#also the part where they screamed and danced and chanted ‘BLACK SUN BLACK SUN’ for like the entire totality

[soullistrations]

favorite part of the eclipse: my first graders asking me ‘is it Tuesday now?’ after the totality passed

#rebamble #eclipse #adventures in teaching #also the part where they screamed and danced and chanted ‘BLACK SUN BLACK SUN’ for like the entire totality #I mean I cried when i first saw it so #it was just. it was incredible

[sopxhiea]

Rules

Alfie Solomons X Friends with Benefits!Reader

Summary: She’s known as a dancer in a high end club but he’s known her for not so long. She decides the rules, he goes along with them but sometimes, he’s the one making the rules.

“If you interrupt me one more time, so help me god.”

“Obviously you have mistaken me for somebody who gives a shit.”

It’s late. 

Late enough to hear the dogs howling in the groggy streets of London as the black sky decorated the horizon. The room was quiet, only the sound of breathing filling the hollow walls of the apartment. The silence wasn’t unusual and it was more than welcomed. The owner wasn’t home, a familiar body was standing in the spacious entrance.

You weren’t home yet.

Feeling the soft material of the lacy undergarment residing around your upper thighs, you looked around to see who was still in the club. It was close to the weekend which meant that it was getting busier than usual. Men were mostly drunk or intoxicated by the movements of the ladies around. There was no one to entertain in the club anymore so you moved towards the interior rooms to get ready to leave.

The space was decorated with mirrors, make up clutter right in front of them as some of the girls packed the last of their garments to leave. The sun would approach soon, sunlight beaming through the groggy city but you hoped to make it home before then. Slowly gathering your stuff and stuffing them all in your bag, you looked at yourself in the mirror.

The club wasn’t the usual, much like you.

It was a place for rich lads, some aristocracy and the kind of men that had to be served in private rooms because of how high they were up in the pyramid scheme. Most of the work you did was talking, some dancing here and there and you were done. Nothing ever got physical since it wasn’t a brothel, but a place for fine entertainment.

The make-up was off, your natural skin color glowing under the countless bulbs that decorated the mirror. The club was mostly empty now, car sounds no longer audible. It was dead silent outside, the hour when the city would be asleep and you’d walk home on your own. It was a treat to say the least.

The cold weather attacked your skin a bit too quickly as you made your way down the street. Your flat wasn’t too far from the club, just perfect distance for a night walk. It was dangerous in the streets, especially for a lady like yourself but you had a gun hidden in your bag and a long needle that held your bun together and you knew your way around both of those tools.

The night seemed quiet as you walked, no sounds of chatter but a few drunken lads from a couple blocks away. You hugged your coat a little tighter and realized that you were less tired than usual.

-----

The inside of the house was quiet, an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach as he looked through the corridor. Your dresses were on the floor, a couple mugs here and there sitting on the piles of books. He saw a nightgown and your knickers on the floor and decided that you had gone to the club a little later than usual. As far as he was concerned, everything was normal.

The sound of keys jiggling outside the door made him turn towards the entrance and before he knew it, you pushed the door open with a gun in your hand that was pointed at him. Your breathing was even and the gun in your hand didn’t shake in the slightest.

He greeted you with a smile.

You lowered the gun down in a swift motion when you realized who it was. He was wearing his usual smile, broad as he walked towards you with dense eyes. He was wearing the usual attire but his prayer shawl was missing and you realized it was past saturday.

There he was, the handsome stranger.

He wasn’t so much of a stranger really, not since he’d made you chant his name until the sun was down and you had to go to work. He knew the way your body responded, what you liked in the bedroom and just how to kiss you to make you beg. 

He didn’t know anything about your family, where you’d spent your childhood or the way you’d silently pray each time you saw a shadow. Alfie didn’t know what meals you cooked, how you liked your tea or anything past your occupation and name and where you lived. 

He didn’t need to. 

And he wasn’t allowed to.

“What the fuck happened to sayin’ ‘ello, pet?” he said with an amused face that you didn’t mirror. You were still a bit tired from work and he never came over afterhours.

Those were the rules.

He was allowed to come anytime before your work and never after you’d just arrived home. He would usually call before and let you know. He wasn’t allowed to buy you things or take you out, even though he’d stayed over a couple times before. You knew limited information and about him and he the same, and he wasn’t allowed to break any of the rules.

“Sorry. I’m just a little..” you spoke with a soft tone and he could hear the tiredness seeping from your limbs as he took a look at you.

You looked tired but beautiful nevertheless.

Your figure was a bit slumped, the kind of tiredness that came from working too hard and not because he was the one tiring you out. You weren’t wearing any make-up or fancy clothes, it was his favorite version of you. He didn’t like all the make-up you had to wear for the club or the fancy lingerie but he had no say in any of the things you did. You had made that painfully clear for him.

“Ya’ alright?” he asked while walking towards you, voice a little concerned at your state but you were a bit too tired to care.

And you wanted to hug him, really badly.

Alfie was very rough around the edges, far too rude at first sight for any lady but it would take a split second to realize that he wasn’t rude at all, that was just the way he was. He brushed shoulders with gangsters, people of the underworld who had to do dirty things to get food on their table. He had blood in his hands and for a man of his kind, he was a gentle one.

You immediately leaned a bit closer when his hand came into contact with your shoulder.

“Fine.” you nodded, little bits of your hair framing your face and Alfie leaned in even closer, standing right in front of you with his hand on your hip.

“Do you want anythi-” you started speaking in a softer voice than normal and Alfie felt himself melt a little but his eyes didn’t leave yours.

“Nah,’m fine, pet.” he said, in a low whisper. He was very gentle at that moment, almost like in a daze.

He had met you in a very unusual way.

You had crashed into him, face on his chest one day when you were out buying groceries. The flowers in your hand were crushed when you bumped into him and he had no time to apologize before you’d started screaming at him for being so careless. He’d listened you shout while thinking about how lovely you were and then asked you out for tea that very same day.

You had said yes and then somehow ended up on his bed. You’d left without saying goodbye but then bumped into him a couple weeks later. He had talked charmingly the whole time and then it happened again, again and then once more before you established some rules so that he didn’t think this was more than a stress relief situation.

“What are you-” you started talking again with his face closer to yours but he interrupted you soon, speaking softly against your irritated face.

“I had a fuckin’ job, right, jus’ around the fuckin’ corner so I figured..” he spoke but trailed off with a smile and you finished it for him.

“So you figured you’d have a quick fuck-” your smile was less evident as you looked at him while speaking.

“A visit, lass. A fuckin’ visit is what ‘m here for, innit.” he said, interrupting you once more and he saw your blood boil which only aroused him.

“If you interrupt me one more time, so help me god.” your voice was stern as you looked up at the man. He was twice your size yet you did all the ordering around.

He didn’t mind.

He had been with his share of women, mostly in brothels but he’d usually leave out that part. He loved women, that was a given but he had never grown fond of one before. You had seem like the polar opposite of him when you’d first met and all that did was to draw him even further. He didn’t like the warmth that spread through his chest when he saw you, it made him feel young and defenseless again.

“Sorry, pet.” he said, face even closer to yours now. You knew what he was here for but it didn’t fit the rules, you had no problem sending him home.

“You came here for what?” you spoke against his lips, not kissing him just yet but simply teasing. He was a sucker for that.

He smiled when your fingers caressed his cheek and your lips almost touched his. He wasn’t here for a fuck this time, he had simply dropped off. He had business around the corner with a butcher’s shop that was causing him some trouble and realized that you’d be home soon.

He also wanted to ask you a question but that would come later.

“To see ya’.” he said, simple as that while your lips ghosted over his. Your eyes were locked into his and he didn’t seem to be lying from the way his face relaxed.

“Hm.” you said, humming before you leaned closer to plan your lips on his.

The kiss was slow, not the usual teeth against teeth you had with him. His hands were on your waist while yours resided on his chest and cheek. He was savoring the moment since this was rare with you, very rare. You wanted some relief on most days and that’s when you’d see him, not when you wanted a hug or a small chat.

But you weren’t complaining in the slightest.

You broke the kiss, a bit hesitant at first while staring at his lips. He was searching for your eyes when you parted but you wouldn’t look with the fear of him catching something in there. You slowly walked away from him, taking your long coat off and throwing it on the sofa. The house was a mess but that was the usual. All you and Alfie did was fuck anyway so the only place he would be concerned with was the bed.

You sat down on the chair in the corner of the room and looked at him, standing near the entrance with his broad form. He was here for something, you could tell but he wasn’t so keen on giving it to you. It wasn’t like you were dying to know but Alfie was not someone who’d usually ask for anything, let alone anything from you.

All he would ask was a fuck and that was the arrangement.

“You’re gonna talk?” you said, watching as he made his way to the corner you were sitting on and sat on the sofa next to you.

He didn’t speak for a while. His hand tugged at his beard while he looked at you, lost in thought. He wasn’t really looking at you but through you, which was unusual considering he was one of the first people to ever see you for who you were. You didn’t like to think about it, he was good in bed and that’s all you were concerned with.

“Ya’ hear what’s goin’ on in these fuckin’ streets?” he asked, head motioning outside for a split second before he directed all his attention to you again.

Your eyebrows furrowed and you spoke, not a care in the world as he looked at you. “Seeing as I arrive home at this hour, no.” you said, eyes searching for his for a second before finding them.

He seemed uneasy.

“There is a fuckin’ war, yeah, a dangerous one, lass and it ain’t gonna look pretty for ya’ when they realize ya’ fuckin’ know me.” he said, measuring each and every word.

You didn’t know why he cared.

In your eyes, you were just a woman he fucked. There were no strings, no seeing each other romantically or any kind of involvement. You weren’t his, not by any means and he wasn’t yours. You’d speak to him if you saw him outside but there was no other involvement other than being with each other for stress relief. For all you knew, he was still making regular visits to the brothel.

But he wasn’t.

He had stopped right after he had first met you. He still had his needs but you were more than capable of taking care of him if he were to knock on your door. He knew the rules, was very well aware of the lines you’d drawn for him but he’d still protect you. Not because you were his fuckbuddy but because he genuinely cared about your wellbeing, even if that wasn’t allowed.

You smiled at him at first, almost felt like he was mocking you. Why did he care? You tilted your head to the side and spoke with an amused voice as he looked at you with concern in his eyes, not something you were used to seeing. He still listened as you spoke. “Obviously you have mistaken me for somebody who gives a shit.”

He shook his head with an amused chuckle. You really had no idea. The Italians didn’t know of you yet but if they followed Alfie enough times, they could easily make out the equation. He looked at your still form for a moment and spoke, saying what he’d been wanting to say since he arrived and you saw the weight being lifted off his shoulders.

“I can fuckin’ protect ya’, pet, if ya’ come live near me, that is.” he said, word by word and he saw your face change.

It was absurd.

“No.” you said, not even taking a minute to think about it as you looked at him. Before he said anything else, you spoke up again with a shaking head. You were still seated, less angry than he’d expect you to be. “I can’t move away from work and I don’t even know how to find another apartment at this time.” you spoke, voicing all your concerns.

He was a gangster and knew the ropes better than you so you opted on trusting him. If it turned out to be a mistake, you would blame it all on him but you didn’t want to get killed because you’d been fucking some bloke. Except that he wasn’t some bloke and he had his own gang.

“I got that figured ou’, I did, yeah.” he spoke to you while leaning back on the sofa. You looked at him with a curious expression. He was amused at it for a second before speaking up again, hand tugging at his beard. “I got ya’ a fuckin’ place of yer own, near where I fuckin’ live, pet...” he said and watched your eyes burn.

Who did he think he was?

The rules were clear and your blood was boiling because this man was breaking every one of them. He wouldn’t care if you were dead, you had thought but the more he spoke, the more you changed your mind. He had already taken care of everything without even asking you and he heard you scoff while his words still filled your ear.

“I’ll have one of the lads to fuckin’ drive you..” he said, done with what he was saying and you snapped back immediately.

“You’ll have someone drive me in the evening and pick me up at 4 in the morning from a gentlemen’s club?” you spoke, eyes stern as they bore into his.

He just nodded.

You scoffed once more and got up, hand on your hip as you paced through the room. He just watched. He could see the questions forming as you looked at him every now and then as you paced. There was a look of panic in your eyes as you walked through the corridors and realized that he was probably right at having you move, you could easily be killed. Even if you weren’t seeing him, it was common for someone to be killed just because they were living in a dangerous area.

“Will they kill me?” you said, and spoke once more before he could answer. “If I don’t move, I mean..... Will I die?” you said, eyes wide with confusion and panic.

So he spoke up almost immediately, not liking your frantic eyes as he was used to seeing your calm features after a good fuck. “I won’t have that fuckin’ happen-”

“But If I refuse to move?” you said, waiting for him to properly answer the question with hand on your hip. He knew you were measuring all the possibilities.

“I ain’t gonna lie to ya’, pet, ‘s very possible, it ‘s.” he said while looking at you. He was still sitting in front of you.

He watched you nod.

This didn’t change anything in your eyes. It wouldn’t mean that you were dependent on him or that he would have any power over you. You’d just be protected and the chances of you getting killed because of him would decrease. You measured it all in your mind and realized that it was probably for the best.

“Fine.”

------

His movements were fast, feral almost as his skin came into contact with yours every other second. The bed creaked, not too loud while your panting filled the room. Hands holding onto him by the shoulders, you let out a shaky exhale when he adjusted the angle. His hair was messy as it fell on his forehead, moving each time he thrusted into you.

“Fuck.” you whispered against his lips when he started moving faster, hand on his back and neck while his remained on your waist.

He groaned against your neck with each movement, holding your legs up on his knees in the process. A thin layer of sweat was apparent on your skin even though it was freezing outside. You watched him lift his head, facial expression covered in bliss while the morning light hit his face.

It had been a week since you’d moved into the apartment and 4 of those days had been spent with you and him testing the new bed. You had gotten a new one for yourself and he’d joked about how you’d have to break into it so that it was comfortable and you had given him one look and there you were, four days later with your legs wrapped around him.

Your back arched off the bed the faster he became and he was soon becoming erratic, gasping for air and you felt your body slowly tense and give in. Your hands dug into his back as he moved, reaching his climax soon after. He stayed like that for a while while you regained your breath, feeling your body grow tired with each passing hour. You swallowed as he slid out of you and collapsed next to you on the bed.

The rules were still in place.

You stared at the ceiling while he stared at you while laying on his stomach next to you. Your hair was messy, the tie no longer holding it together and tangles here and there. He watched your heaving chest, breath a little lost as you locked your lips. 

And then you turned to him.

His eyes had already been on you but you hadn’t realized. He was staring, not gawking but looking with some sort of softness in his gaze. You didn’t smile as you inspected him and the way he was looking at you. You didn’t do the same to him, feeling yourself grow a bit too uneasy at the feeling of being watched.

And if you looked for too long, you were afraid you’d get lost.

Slowly lifting your body off of the mattress and sitting next to him, you came to realize that most of your lower body had gotten sore in between days of tidying and arranging the new flat and Alfie not wasting a second to get you alone so that he could spend the rest of the day tiring you out even further. 

He watched your hair fall across your back when you got up, messy from the events that had just taken place. You were not wearing anything so you grabbed your cardigan and wrapped it around your body when you got up. The whole time, he just watched as you moved around your new space.

It already felt like home.

He’d spent most of the days either helping you out or making sure that the lads didn’t damage any of the furniture or simply making you pant on the bed. It had been wonderful if he was honest, he wasn’t as angry and there was no feeling of uneasiness in his chest. He still saw dangerous man from day to day but knowing that you’d be home before you left for work, telling the lads how to put the sofa made him feel look forward to the time he’d get to see you.

He didn’t think much of it, or so he convinced himself that he didn’t.

“Alfie.” you said, you had been speaking to him but he was in his head so he hadn’t heard.

“Huh, what, luv?” he said, lifting himself off of the mattress and sitting on the soft material instead.

“You want tea?” you said, licking your lips while standing next to the door’s frame with nothing but a cardigan on. 

“Hm.” he said, nodding as he got up to put his pants on. He didn’t dress himself any further even though it was cold outside, he felt warm after laying on the bed with you.

He walked towards the kitchen to see you waiting for the water to boil. You looked at him when he appeared on the door and you gave him a gentle smile which he returned with a warmer heart. He walked next to you while you poured the water in the tea cups and his hand met your hip, squeezing gently.

This was not something you usually did.

In the last week, the lines had become blurred. It was hard to tell what he was to you. He had found you an apartment and had even picked you up in the morning when you were done. You had joked around with him during the ride and he’d even made jokes to make you smile, he had succeeded, too.

You shuddered a little when his lips met the space between your ear. He knew your body like the back of his hand, no matter how much you’d want to deny it. You kept your eyes on the water that was pouring out to the cups but his lips had your attention.

“Alfie, I’m gonna burn myself.” you said, in a breathy voice and he stopped with a smile. You didn’t even see his lips soften but you knew he was smiling.

After putting the tray on the table that resided in the middle of the living room, you sat on the soft chair you had brought from your previous place. He sat on the sofa on the opposite corner while waiting for the tea to cool down. He wanted to say something, it was hanging at the back of his mouth but he couldn’t get the words to come out.

And you so took it upon yourself to make him.

“If you wanna say something, just say it.” you said, almost a whisper but he had heard since the rooms were silent. You wore an annoyed expression that he often saw but it only amused him further.

He wanted to ask you if you’d work today and he already knew the answer.

He didn’t like it, the sticky feeling in his stomach each time you would go to work. He had no say in what you did, either for work or on the daily and he knew that but it only stirred him further. There was the fear of you getting hurt but he knew you were more than capable of taking care of yourself.

And then, there was the other issue that wouldn’t leave his mind.

Other men got to see you in fancy lingerie, things that didn’t cover you up all the way and it made him mad. He didn’t quite know why, just that he was annoyed with the whole thing. He wouldn’t say it but you’d see the relief on his face when you’d be back from work or when he’d come to pick you up. He had been fucking you a little more carefully lately, ever since you’d moved in closer to him. He was almost tender, painfully soft with you when you’d let him show you a good time. It wasn’t the animalistic, rough Alfie you were used to but there was complaint, only curiosity.

He didn’t speak, just hand tugging at his beard and you knew he’d wait until the day was over and you’d be back from work to see him still in the same position. “You’ve been in me, Alfie, I won’t get mad.” you spoke, almost sensing the reason for his hesitation and his eyes locked into yours when you were done speaking. 

He figured he’d trust your word.

“Yer goin’ to work?” he asked and saw your features change.

You knew why he was asking but that didn’t change anything.

You had a vague idea as to why he had been more gentle with you lately, why he kissed you deeper than usual and why he insisted on giving you hickeys even though you’d told him not to on numerous occasions. He was more touchy, almost always around with the excuse of ‘making sure you were settled in’. You were just a girl but you weren’t stupid.

And this wasn’t something you could allow.

Men got jealous, they got protective and thought they had some sort of power over you the moment you’d become ‘ their girl’. You hated that anyway, being someone’s girl and knowing how dangerous Alfie’s line of business could be, you didn’t see sense in pursuing the possibility of anything happening with the man. You shook your head and he watched you lick your lips before you spoke.

“Yes, I am.” you said nonchalantly, as if you were trying to tell him that no matter how much he’d ask, you still wouldn’t want it. “You don’t need to pick me up.” you said, expressionless as he looked at your standing yet somehow small form. You hugged the cardigan tighter as he spoke, he watched you put some things into space. Things he’d knocked out of its place when he had been feverishly kissing you.

“I fuckin’ will, though.” he said, eyes stern as he looked at your face. You were a little taken aback but no evident sign of surprise.

“You don’t have to.” you said again, agitated with his need to make sure you were alright when all you needed him for was a quick fuck.

It didn’t work like this, not with you so you wouldn’t entertain the chance of being with him.

“I want to, lass, yeah, so I fuckin’ will.” he said one last time before getting up to walk towards you.

He would be jealous, you told yourself. He wouldn’t like the fact that other people were able to see you in such little clothing, you thought and he certainly wouldn’t appreciate the little dances you would give. Sure, he was a good fuck but he was also a cruel gangster and the balance seemed almost even.

Almost.

You walked away the moment his breath his your face and made your way to the bedroom to tidy up. There were clothes on the floor and books everywhere, you grabbed one and put it on the shelf and he was right behind you when you turned back.

“Alfie, move.” you said, not able to penetrate through his large form as he blocked your way.

“Tell me.” he said, finger under your chin as he lifted your face so you were looking at him.

“Tell you what?”

“Why?” his voice was a whisper as he looked at your small form, chin still between his fingers as his eyes bored into yours.

Your eyebrows furrowed at the question as he looked at your face, Why what? you thought. The question had so many ways of ending and yet, only one question popped into your mind.

Why were you still going to work? Why, when he was the one keeping your bed warm?

You didn’t answer, you didn’t know if there was an answer. It would not work, he would be a jealous man, jealous of the other ones that got to see you in work and it would get unbearable like it always would with any relationship you had. You didn’t say anything and walked away, he just watched.

He left soon after that, not a word or a forehead kiss like he’d usually give you. He wasn’t hurt or broken by anything, he was just waiting for you to make up your mind. The words had stirred something in you, he had seen that when you had looked at him. He just needed an answer now.

Laying on the bed as you watched the street lights dance on the ceiling, you realized you had the answer.

But it would put you in a lot of danger.

-----

Tagging: @clairecrive  @parkbearum @sourirez  @vetseras​ @mollybegger-blog @babylooneytoonz @peakascum

A/n: Hi!! This was something that had been in drafts for a while now so i wanted to post it at last. I hope you enjoyed it and let me know if you’d like another chapter!!

#alfie solomons #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons smut #alfie solomons scenario #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons series #alfie solomons fluff #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons fic #alfie solomons fanfiction #alfie solomons x oc #alfie solomons x shelby!reader #peaky blinders #alfie solomons peaky blinders #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders smut #peaky blinders scene #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders fluff #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fiction #tom hardy x reader

[shadowdianne]

A friend who is actually starting to write her own book sent me a little thing back at instagram which was a cute version of inktober. For each day of august a prompt of word. She asked me to do it with her, as a way of making her write even a short paragraph each day and motivate her. I said yes, but since I'm quite the overachiever I did all previous days plus today and my plan is to do them all now that I'm up to date with the ones I was "supposed" to have done. Anyway, the rules we set for this were no tailoring afterward, no editing, and a max of 15 lines. It's not fanfic but if anyone wants to read them...

1.- Circle

The grass was dry beneath their feet as they moved, the nighttime air filled with the chants of those who hold the candles as they moved, shadows undulating, changing, as they rose their arms. However, If anyone would have dared to peek from beyond the trees that surrounded the clearing, they would have only seen the blue formations of the will-o-wisps as they moved and created the never-ending circle and yet, however, if any bystander clever enough, magical enough, interested enough, would have kept on watching, battling against the feeling of being watched that would have crept out on their back, they would have seen the figures, the lights, form and change and transform until the will-o-wisps were gone and, on their wake, the circle would have led to the wings of those departed, waiting for their time to come so they could traverse to the place beyond.

2.- Changeling

Their eyes are never the right color, their mouths form words no-one should speak outload, they teach us to never share our meals, our names with them, for they do not belong to us anymore that they do belong to what lies beyond the veil that permeates magic and secrets. Their souls were sold, way beyond they were formed, even if they wear lead and silver like any mortal would. They can touch salt, and eat it as well, but their redemption lies beyond the crosses and symbols of the religion that they were brought up into. You can make deals with them, they teach us, you can peer into those eyes and try not to lose yourself if you are willing, but remember that their bodies are borrowings, copies of imperfect molds. They exist and they can bring gifts, for they can step into said veil, but there’s nothing that will make them human, or mortal, even if they think of themselves as such.

3.-Lottery

The numbers bled ink onto her palm as she brought it closer to her eyes, the rain around her turning ice-cold as she tried to peer beyond it. The air freezing as she rose her free hand and moved a few stray hairs out of her eyes. She could feel the chill on her back and neck, the razor sting of the water turning to hail. “Is someone there?” She wanted to ask, the silhouette she had seen -she had thought she had seen- walking down the road now nowhere to be found. The lottery ticket kept flapping against the wind, the numbers beginning to smear as she brought it closer to her chest. Numbers, she would soon find out when she entered into one of the few shops down her street that would take it, that changed with notable pace. There was never a wrong one, she would realize, for each number would always be the correct one, would always give the answer that would need to be given in order to win. Then, she would ask, why the ticket was also stained with blood?

4.-Officiate

The bold man rose his arms and looked at us with a grave look, the shadows within the chapel seeming to grow and wreathe as we all stood, waiting. There was very little to do, beyond keeping up with his stare as he repeated the old mantra I’ve known by heart for longer than my years would have said. I let my mind wander when he didn’t stare at me, trying to catch the sins off our memories, the reason why we have been brought up here. I looked at the stained glass at his back, at the stories that were told with jaded crystals that our memories had conjured. With each night, the stained glass seemed brighter, our souls, according to him, purer. And yet, I felt light-headed, weak, as my eyes were captured once more, distant screams scurrying through the floor as we fell, knees first. Again, and again, and again.

5.-Enchant

He eyed the pendant that hung from between their intertwined fingers, the jewel encased in the middle of the brass and silver lines glinting under the electric light that hung above them. He was still able to taste the wine he had consumed a few minutes prior, the tanginess of it, the way it had stained his teeth. The light within the pendant glowed stronger as it beckoned them, their breath halting and then speeding up as their feet rose from carpeted floors, the wood panels that covered the room’s walls seemingly to throb as they kept on grabbing the pendant, the magic, scribbled beyond the details the artisan had created for them both. “A promise trapped in glass” The old man has whispered as he had given it to him. “A secret written within it.” He had replied, the words strange but expected, such was the way of the saying. He now was able to fear the heat radiating from the pendant, the magic, and he knew he had been lied to.

6.-Science

Beakers tinkled as she looked around the room, the papers, scattered around the body, the last strength of the dead man’s hand thrown over one small portion of white paper that was now marred with words she wasn’t able to understand. The inspector knelt next to the body, not bothering to check the man’s pulse as she knew him dead; the trail of blood pooling on his back enough proof of that, alongside with the scalpel, the broken pieces, of what could have been his latest experiment. Outside, beyond the sea of voices so normal in an investigation site, she could almost listen to the crows she had seen upon entering the building, their beaks open in a sempiternal smirk. She frowned and stood, fingers ironing her clothing reflexively as she took into the laboratory, the slight stench of fluids that had been spilled. And then she winced as her finger opened, sliced by one of the speckles of glass that covered her pants. Stupid, noob, she could listen to the scornful remarks others would tell her, if only the heat that now seemed to burn from her insides would end.

7.- Basket

It was sturdy, the old woman would often say when trying to sell the ones she made in front of her home, the porch worn and slanted but still giving her enough shade for her hands to work without breaking a sweat. It was sturdy and practical and all new-commers should buy one. What would you do, she would say with eyes so clouded they looked like the sky in a stormy day, with the things one was supposed to carry for long travels? What would you do with your food and waterskins? Where would you carry them? She would scoff at the words of those who politely told her that they had their backpacks. “They are not as reliable” She would reply, but she would shoo them away nevertheless, her interest depleted the moment they told her that they were supposed to go for the distant mountains, the ones that seemed blue from where they stood. She would insist more, sometimes, if they seemed hesitant to say not to her, toothless smile and quick tongue quickly lifting a few coins from their purses. It was sturdy, she would say to them, as she gave them the promised basket, the sigils woven into it blinking once, twice, beyond their eyes. She would smile then, promising them good travels, safe travels. She was rarely wrong.

8.- Ensnare

The gardener looked at yet another vine, sweat rolling down his brow, he could feel the dirt slowly resettling itself as he watched, the steps of the poor unfortunate who had ended up being trapped, ensnared, by the vines already beginning to disappear. There was very little he was able to do now, the body mangled beyond recognition, and so he brought a clean cloth and his sears and began the process of recollecting what little he was able to get, at least for the ones who had lost another family member, for the dead to be tolled, he didn’t quite hate his job, it paid well, as long as he himself kept away from the vines covering the mausoleum’s door. But there were days like this one, days in where the heat bothered and the vines were more playful than usual and their teeth nipped at his fingers, that he wondered about taking that final step, devoid of the protections the pendant around his neck gave him. If only to see if there was actually a way of getting lose from them all.

9.-Sky

Their wings fluttered, moved by the breeze that only they could see, and as the night covered everything in velvety black, the wings of the creatures grew in size, changing the sun with the moon, their eyes black holes that blossomed into galaxies only those keen eyed, where able to distinguish on the earth below. They danced around each other, the aurora borealis a stamp of colors their tails created their flight erratic for every night is different and every sky varies, even with the matted imperfections of their plumage -the constellations, those mortals would call them- The planets aligned as the sun disappeared, one last bite of fire hanging low on the horizon, and they kept on dancing, on transforming day to night, and then back and back again.

10.-Box

The box was engraved, numbers of family members so old it was difficult to remember them any longer. It was also covered in dirt, from the grave they had dug it up, their secrets locked away with a lock as well crafted as it was gorgeous; rust not seeming able to corrode the details of the metal parts that surrounded the names. Cold to the touch, permanently, it seemed to leave a thin layer of frost no matter what object it touched, and she bit down her bottom lip as she tried to remember the old nursery rhymes her grandmother used to sing to her, about the secrets she was supposed to inherit, the clues she was supposed to recall. Nothing, however, came forth, her own fingers felt cold and detached and her vision blurred and gone, the will-o-wisp lights that had seemed to grow stronger the last time she checked into the forest that surrounded the home coming closer and closer to her now, asking for a permission they didn’t need as her own soul had granted such.

11.- Catapult

He run, almost slipping over a pool of oil as the noise of the fighters and soldiers below reached him, the sweat on his brow getting heavier with every passing second. He had been tasked with one thing and one thing only: being a novice there was only so much he could do with a sword after all. And so, he run, run towards the catapults waiting outside the castle, beyond the riverbank. All the careful planning had been for naught as they had found a way into the place using the old catacombs, the ones in where numbers appeared written in blood, passages of a bible so cursed there were only a few that could remember the name of the book itself. He hadn’t dared to ask how the enemies had found a way in; the eyes full of fear of his sergeant had been telling enough. And so, he willed his legs to carry him further as he kept on descending the stairs, moving between bodies, and propelling himself in-between those who fought. He had one job and one job only and he needed to reach the riverbank. Or else.

12.-Ladder

The wood of the ladder splintered beneath her fingertips, but she didn’t pay any mind to the pain on her flesh. There was no point to it, after all, for everything she had tried lied dead at her feet, the eyes of the multitude stuck on her as she felt stricken by fear. She had been propped up the unlit bonfire, read her sins, what she had been accused off, and called forth a blessing from the mute skies. She had looked up then, narrowing her eyes as she searched for the birds that changed as the seasons did; she had been taught, instructed, to find those in the case she was found. Yet, nothing came forth on that starless night, not even when she began to feel the stench of fog and fire about to reach her feet. For that, for fear, she transported herself as far as her powers allowed her; to the silo next to the old road; the one in where Old Granny used to sell her baskets to those stupid enough to transverse to the mountains. The silo was closed now, rot settling in of what had been a small hut back when she had been a child, and so she had waited and waited for the screams outside to disappear, her legs around the end of the ladder, her arms, and hands clutching the top of it. A mere second longer, she thought, she prayed, and she would be able to escape, to flee, to those blue mountains she still could see on her mind’s eye.

13.-Carnivorous

The wolf is not evil, despite its large smile and piercing teeth, its tongue as red as the blood it consumes. The wolf is not evil but a warning, one created by the path that moves and curls around the forest, a way of keeping you focused and not dead. The wolf is not evil, it eats what you eat, it grows from what you learn. The wolf is not evil but a companion, one to listen to when you are traveling, hoping for the next curve of the trail to show the shadows of a town nearby. The wolf is not evil, but a guide, a mortal one, that can travel between what you know and what you definitely shouldn’t pry about. The wolf is not evil. Merely carnivorous.

#yes #they are connected #in a way #I'm creating a time line on the go but I plan to have something done by the end of the month that you can follow through if you read them #aughost

[barnesandco]

Go for Gold

Bucky becomes seriously affected by an Olympic athlete during his time at the Summer Olympics in Tokyo, and makes a desperate attempt to get to know her better.

This is my entry for @allaboardthereadingrailroad​ ‘s #marveldiversitychallenge. My prompt was the song Swimming Pool Summer by Capital Cities.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Black!Reader

Warnings: Blushy Bucky lol.

A/N: Whitney, thank you so much for providing this opportunity to write characters we are not so familiar with, allowing us to expand our horizons and crucially, working to make this space more inclusive for people of color. It was an amazing initiative to take and I’m so glad I participated (albeit a little late -- sorry)

This is also a wishful glimpse into the Olympics we never got this year.

Tokyo is a cornucopia of sensory overstimulation, and for the first time in a long time, Bucky is glad for it. It’s like the Stark Expo raised to the power of ten, the bright lights of the city and its signs mingling with the bright jerseys worn by fans. The streets are packed with sound and celebration, and his only guide grounding him is the heat he feels along his right side, where Sam walks beside him.

Pressed together, shoulder-to-shoulder, his brother in arms is today a brother in merriment and sports enthusiasm, as they make their way to the swim hall for the next event on their list. The women’s 50 meter freestyle. Bucky feels like he’s floating, cheeks aching while he listens to Sam talk about childhood dares that forced him to brave the cold waters of the cleanest part of the Hudson he and his cousins could find. All the while, the beat of a Xhosa chant from a crowd of South Africans syncs with his heartbeat and he inhales deeper as they pass a samosa cart.

Bucky doesn’t mention working at the docks and witnessing kids decades before Sam complete the same challenges; it’s too grandpa-ish an anecdote. Not that Sam would really notice, not right now, at least. Captain America has fallen silent, his focus on the swim hall, big, brown eyes bright in the cerulean light reflected from the water below.

He snaps out of it, out of that youthful glee at another item crossed off the bucket list, as they sit down. “Hey, how are you feeling?” Sam asks, once they’ve settled down, and they have time to breathe for themselves, and not to inhale all the amazement that surrounds them.

Bucky smiles. “Couldn’t be better,” and that’s all he has time for before the swimmers are walking out and the crowd is cheering behind him and he is fixated on one, particular Olympian. Your posture encaptivates Bucky, because you stands like you are ready to dive. 

You enter the water like Bucky does his apartment, with a sigh of relief at being home. It is transfixing to see someone return to their element, and some egotistical part of him wonders if he looks anywhere near as ethereal as this swimmer. Only your head and shoulders are visible now, brown skin shimmering in the reflection of the water, and you tuck your swim cap tighter on your head the same way Bucky does his gloves before battle. Your face gleams with determination set in steel.

And then there is only quiet, and the gentle lapping of ripples against the pool walls, and everyone holds their breath. The starter pistol fires, and you’re off. Bucky’s eyes follow you and only you, your grace unparalleled by your lithe movements, like a knife through butter, and moments stretch into hours that are over all too soon.

But then Sam is screaming next to him. There’s something about a world record and the audience is on its feet behind him but he sees only you. You hoist yourself out of the pool, beaming brighter than the sun. A towel is placed around your shoulders and you laugh exuberantly when your coach whispers something in your ear as she hugs you. The sound imprints itself into his mind with the intensity of a magnesium flare, and with it, Bucky is a complete and total goner.

-----

He does not stop thinking about you. Can’t help it, even when he and Sam have attended two more events and he has had dinner and Sam has left for bed. Something tugs him to the water. 

The sun has long set and the velvet blanket of night has drawn itself over the sky, tucked neatly into the corners of the horizon where he can see Tokyo spilling over the edge of his view. The city’s size is doubled by the calm reflection he can see from Hinode Pier, and he finds himself sitting on a jetty, above water pitch black save for a cluster of fireflies nearby. 

There are steps behind him, and he tenses, more so when he sees the reflection in the water. It’s you, your posture and height unmistakable.

“Hi, mind if I join you?” You ask, and he stands to pretend he didn’t notice you earlier. The smile dancing like waves on your face tells him you’re not fooled, and he thinks the heat rising to his face surely won’t help, either. 

“Of course.” 

You sit down, and he follows, and the line holding your shoulders so tightly eases as your legs swing over the water. The fireflies look like fireworks -- magnesium flares -- in your eyes. An ease washes over you as you graze the bottom of your sneakers over the surface of the water.

“Congratulations,” Bucky says after a while, and you close your eyes and laugh, rub your eyelids with the heel of your palms.

“Thank you,” you say, removing your hands from your face, using them to gather your braids back and at your neck again, laughing again. “Sorry,” you say, shaking your head, and he wonders why. “I just can’t believe it. A world record.”

Your laughter is contagious and addictive, and Bucky tries to elicit more of it, toeing the line of your acquaintanceship delicately. “I was talking about the medals you won today, but yeah, congratulations with that, too.” It works. You smile, this time directly at him, and he can’t breathe with the full strength of your beauty directed right at him.

Tilting your head, you ask, “You watched me race? Were you rooting for me?” You joke back, but Bucky nods seriously as he considers your question.

“I wasn’t going to root for anyone because I don’t know the first thing about swimming, so it was as impressive as flying to me,” he begins, and thinks about how he really should be used to flying considering who his best friend is, “but I saw you in the 50 meter today and, well, I’ve always cheered for the winning team. Wasn’t going to change that now,” he says.

Your eyes flit between both of his, and the warmth emanating from you is enough to combat the chill of the night near the water. “What about not knowing anything about swimming? Are you willing to change that?” You ask and Bucky looks at the water below, and his face, intrepid, staring back in the dim light.

“Why not?” He says with a shrug, and you grin a starlight smile back at him, and then stand to pull a swim cap out of your hoodie before taking it off, leaving you in a sports t-shirt and yoga pants. The water splashes onto him as you dive off the jetty, and Bucky watches you giggle as you break the surface and come up for air, gesturing for him to join you.

The water is probably cold, but you’re in it, and he removes his windbreaker too, joining you more hesitantly. The waves welcome him, lapping over his t-shirt and he’s glad he’s wearing the synthetic skin today, so that you can be just two strangers, without the weight of your reputations tugging at you.

You cup your hands around your mouth as you paddle backwards and call, “Let’s just warm up,” and Bucky follows in a clumsy breaststroke, as you take off.

His breath is releasing in pants and the jetty is a thin line in the distance, his body warmer by the time you stop. There is no sand beach or wood pier here, only a small stretch of marshland. The cattails sway gently in a slow breeze behind you, and you look happier than you did in the pool, your eyes glimmering.

“You need to move your arms like this,” you say, and demonstrate steps that Bucky then mimics, but you shake your head and move closer. Your hands hold his arms gently, moulding his movements to look less like he is hacking at the water and more like he is pushing at it to propel himself forth. 

Voice low, as if imparting secrets, you speak softly in his ear and are kind in your corrections. Once satisfied with his technique, you ask for him to swim beside you, and begin to move back towards the jetty you came from. 

The air is calm, and then his stomach growls loudly, prompting another peal of laughter from you, as he laughs nervously. “Didn’t you have dinner?” You wonder.

“Guess the swimming worked up some more appetite.”

Treading water, your head and shoulders bob up and down, as do his, and a new affection blooms as each of your circular ripples meet. “You wanna go for a midnight snack?”  

He thinks about what has brought the two of you there, a restlessness, a soulful ache for something unnameable. The night has ended in a way he did not expect, but he is better for it, and hopes you are, too. Something is blooming, with all the soft elegance of cherry blossoms and the deep understanding of hearts resonating with each other. Something he wants to see grow further and take root. He needs to know what your favorite food is, what it took for you to get to where you are, what you like to do in your free time. 

Bucky wants to see more of you you, this version of you, the athlete away from the competition, the woman in her element, the teacher with a student, because he is drowning in all of you, so he could not be any happier to answer: “I’d love to,” and have you smile like the Pacific Ocean, wide and warm and welcoming, in response. 

#marveldiversitychallenge #ayesha writes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x reader fluff

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

Kingdom Collisions Part XVI

please explain to me how i started this fic after EotH and we’re now ahead of that fic?? Also don’t kill me? Okay i love you guys enjooyyyy

masterlist; my links

I know it’s been over a month so here’s a previously on:

Prince Jason Grace sets him down by the fire. “Don’t move, I’ll come back for you.”

And then he is gone, and Prince Perseus Jackson smiles. Because that was the voice of the man he fell in love with. And those hands which had brushed against his waist as he let go were as warm and alive as electric currents.

So the destroyer sits by the fire, and waits for his healer to rescue him.

Come home, don’t die so far from the sea

Percy Jackson can feel the hard press of the wooden floor against his back and he welcomes the pain like an old friend. The darkness of the room feels endless in the cold black of the early morning hours. The fire has long since died, no kindling or wood to keep it alight for however long he stays here. If he didn’t know they planned to kill him at dawn of the coming day he would think they were trying to freeze him to death. It was almost strange how cold he was considering Hanaan was supposed to be in spring, heading towards the warmer months at a rapid pace. He wouldn’t be surprised if he wasn’t in Piper’s kingdom any longer. Maybe he had been transported to a kingdom of eternal winter.

He remembers a story like it, one his mom had told to the group that met at the children’s library every month. He remembers all the stories his mother had told him, fitting into each other like a tapestry. Just then an icy wind drifts in from under the door making him shiver in the thin cotton clothes. He curls into a ball-any attempt to save his body heat- and closes his eyes to a warmer darkness. His mother’s voice echoes inside him.

“When the world was first created there was only the earth and the sea and the sky and the beings that made these elements up.”

Queen Sally smiled down at the children surrounding her, looking up with sparkling eyes, hanging onto her every word.

There was the Lady of the Ocean, and the Being of the Rivers, and the Wisps of the Sky and the Dancers of the Earth. They lived together in harmony, for they never knew of each others’ existences. But one day the Being of the Rivers met the Lady of the Ocean and they learnt together what love was, and then loved each other. They refused to be apart, they couldn’t bare it; the oceans would thrash in agony, hurting the earth; the rivers would dry up, or form canyons in the ground in rage. It was destructive to keep them apart, for they loved so hard and so fiercely that it became a weakness to the world to separate them. So the beings stayed together, for eons, seasons, lifetimes passing without disruption. And in their time the earth changed and the sky grew rainbows and new elements came into being, things that molded and shaped as they had. Things that would not become clear until there was tangible things to hold them, make them. The day came, uncountable eras into their existence. A Dancer of the Earth had fallen in love with a Wisp of the Sky and together they created one that walks.

“Like us Your Majesty?” A little girl burning with curiosity, curly pigtails swinging slightly in the Mare breeze. 

“Just like us Bianca.” His mother had smiled, “With two legs and a wide smile and so much love in their hearts.”

Bianca sighed contentedly as if she had known that first being all her life and looked up to them.

“And with that one being came more and more. As they settled down the need for structure became apparent. Not to control these new beings, but to make sure they had a place to talk about their struggles and to connect them with those who could help. And who better-

His mother had smiled, one of her secret smiles, that meant she knew something she’d beg them to tell her. Half the children around her fell for the bait.

“Whom, your majesty?” A child he had never seen before squeaked, rocking on their heels, knees pulled up to their chest.

“Well the very beings that brought them there.” She giggled, watching as some of their faces scrunched in confusion while others slowly came to the realisation.

The beings of the earth and the rivers and the sky took on a form, as close to the new beings as possible and came to them to offer help, and solace. And that is how the Kingdoms were formed. Mare for water, and Caelum for sky, and Canbaha for earth.

The questions came all at once. 

“So the first Kings and Queens were the beings of the world?’

“What happened to the Ocean Lady and the River?”

“Are you a-”

“Alright alright,” The Queen laughed, “One at a time, let’s go around the room shall we?”

The children raised their hands, impatience shaking their little bodies. His mother pointed at Bianca who was right under her gaze.

“What happened to the Lady of the Ocean and the Being of Rivers?”

“Remember how i told you they couldn't ever be separated?”

The gaggle before her nodded enthusiastically eager to show they were listening.

“Well they were the only beings to rule one kingdom together. They decided if they fed one another there was no need to keep themselves apart. Instead of becoming a kingdom of Oceans and  kingdom of Rivers they become the Kingdom of Mare.”

“What about all the other kingdoms?” A small voice piped up, drifting in the sea of mutters.

“Those kingdoms came to be as beings changed and evolved and became something different, something more. The Kingdom of Hanaan appeared first, created by a beautiful person who could change form at will. She knew not of physicality but of emotion. And then the Kingdom of Hekima came, bringing with it prosperous invention and ways to keep the world working better, more beautifully. And then the Kingdom of Xoia-”

Bianca gasped, “Mine!”

“Yours” his mother had smiled, stroking the little girl's head. “Xoia was one of the last to appear but it brought brightness to the world that could not be found or made otherwise.”

“What happened to the beings that ruled, mom?” Percy’s voice was small, like a baby bird learning how to use its beak.

For him she cocked her head, her blue eyes glinting under the candlelight swaying above them. “What do you think Prince?”

Come home, don’t die so far from the sea

Percy awoke to the door creaking open and rough hands digging into his arms as they hauled him up. He doesn’t have the energy to demand where they were taking him. He didn’t have the wits or the power because his brain was slowly coming to realisations he was not ready to have. It was making assumptions he was terrified may be true. It was shattering his world for the billionth time. It was breaking him.

The world is still dark, but it is not that heavy blackness that seems to suck him in. It is the kind of dark that tells you the light was winning; that soon you will see pinpricks of white and yellow and gold poking through the sky and then the world will be awash in colour once more.

He is thrown onto the grey-stoned floor, hiding his wince as his knees take the brunt of it. The people who had deposited him laugh and walk away. He doesn’t bother to call after them, instead taking in the surroundings. He is in an arena. In a colosseum. He is the lamb offered up to the butcher. He is the prey stuck in a hunter’s snare. He is the entertainment.

He can picture it now; crowds stomping into the stone stands and chanting for his death. He can imagine the painter sat in the box only one lower from the royalty, slapping colour onto a canvas, swirling it in the shades of his blood. He can imagine the musicians in the box just below the painter, banging on their drums, letting the beautiful notes of a flute be the anthem to his downfall. He can imagine his husband, standing in the box above all, looking down at him with those eyes of lightning. Eyes he had woken up to when Jason’s nightmares were so bad they had to sit by his window. About that blonde hair, like strands of sunlight, he has so often wanted to run his hands through, how he mourned its discolouring when their blood coated it.  About those hands that held him when they were captured and freed him so they weren’t. And he wonders, if the Prince will miss him.

Because, he realises with startling radiant clarity, somewhere in the mess that had become their lives Percy had grown to care for the Prince of Caelum. He doesn’t really know when it started; maybe when he found Jason screaming outside the door to the Captain of the Guards’ chamber; or maybe when Percy had sought him out some nights later, and held him as he cried; or maybe when Jason let him be a part of the kingdom by giving him a white rose. He can’t be sure it wasn’t a combination of all those things. He sits on the cold platform in the middle of the arena and finds himself sad, achingly sad, that he will never get that time with his husband. That he will never get to tell the Prince how he feels. 

The sun rises slowly, as if trying to delay the inevitable, but Percy embraces it, letting the warmth of the final tomorrow caress his brown skin. If it is the last time he feels the sun, he wishes to do nothing but feel it. The rays are gentle on his face and he can only imagine it’s what Jason’s touch would have felt like. He sits cross-legged, chin to the sky, eyes closed to the array of colours and lets the last joys of this world embrace him.

The wrought iron gates underneath the raised stands shake and rattle, but he doesn’t open his eyes. He doesn’t know what beasts await him; he doesn’t care. Let them come, he thinks, it will be a mercy to rest at last. The crowds pour in, his people who he was set to rule one day, Jason’s people who he was set to protect one day. Still he keeps himself shut off from the world, feeling the sun, and the wind.

If he had loved anything at all he had loved the wind, the way it chased his ankles, and swept him up, and raced him, and held him, and danced with him, and coaxed him. It was a tragedy, a heartbreaking thought, that he hadn’t gotten to see his ocean one last time. He would have loved to feel the cool water on his skin, and the sand sinking under his feet. He wishes he had more time. He wants this to be over as soon as possible. Time is up.

“Good morning my people,” A voice like ancient beings and newborns croons across the colosseum. “Are you ready to witness history?”

Percy thinks of his mother, the keeper of stories, and knows she has already heard this one. Percy thinks of his father, who has returned to the beginning. He knows his parents will not come to save him. Percy thinks of his childhood friends, all leading secret lives, forged to end his own. He knows they will be in the stands to watch their victory. Percy thinks of his husband, a soldier for an army they could never have predicted. He knows they will never learn how to love one another.

The crowd is screaming, the wrought iron is rattling. Prince Perseus Jackson opens his eyes as the gate yawns open.

The arena is deafening, shaking with anticipation. He glances to the royal box nearly floating in the clouds and frowns when he doesn’t spot a flash of blonde hair.

The people are feral with excitement. A loud boom echoes from the musicians box.

Prince Jason Grace stumbles from the mouth of the arena and falls to his knees in front of the platform.

“Kill him Perseus.” A voice glimmers around him, leaking in through the ringing in his ears.

“Come home Prince,” That voice lilts, “Do not die so far from the sea.”

Jason looks up at him, blue eyes hazy, a dagger loose in his clasp. “Hello Prince.”

Percy steps down from the platform, and takes the dagger from his husband’s hands. It is almost sickening how easily he gives it over.

The crowd stomps its feet: they are ready for blood; they are ready for slaughter.

He holds the dagger up, making sure it glints in the sun. And then he draws his husband close until there is nothing between their bodies, not space, not even air.

“Let’s go home my love.” He whispers. “We will not die so far from the sea.”

Prince Perseus Jackson brings the blade down.

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

Danny how do we feel?

Tags (if you want to be added to/ taken off the tag list just let me know, all my channels of communication are open):

@nishlicious-01​​​

@queen-of-demons-and-hell​​​

@leyontheway​

@sparkythunderstorm​​​

@jinpas-bitches​​

@aalikun

#kingdom collisions #part 16 #jercy are royalty #royalty jercy au #Jercy royalty AU #pjjg fanfic #pjssg fanfic #pjjg series #pjssg series #jercy #jason grace #percy jackson

[theotherbackgrounder]

Need a little help. Some pointers.

So I’m writing a story and I just need you guys to read a part of it. It’s a magical girl story. If you don’t mind just read the down below and tell me if it sounds like the most cliche/troupe filled Magical girl story you ever read (that’s the intention for set up) Like if you read it and it doesn’t even sound like you are reading some rip-off, I want you to tell me and please, give me some pointers.

This is the beginning of a story that will pit a Magical Girl against a Onryu like The Grudge, or Ringu. Ideally I’m using the Typical Mahou Shoujo formula to establish the whole magical girl side before getting into the actual meat of things, like stories like Watchmen/Irredeemable that uses the cliches of Superheroes..

On a familiar day, in a familiar town, in an all too familiar park, reside familiar people that go about their day-to-day familiar lives. Children are out playing enjoying the nice sunny weather. Adults are jogging around the track. The elderly sat on their benches chatting it up as they dote on their children and grandchildren. It was a perfect the perfect scene for such a perfect clear sky.

               Above this picture-esque setting on top of a large tree, was an oddity. Standing with perfect balance was at the tip was someone that could have been mistaken for a young teenager. With fur for flesh and large pointed ears it was clear by the shape of its mouth that it was related to canines.

               “Today’s the day!” The wolf-boy licked his canine teeth, relishing in the moment. “It’s time to begin dance of darkness!” he exclaimed throwing his arms out, allowing his sleeve-less leather jacket to be shown to the world. His eyes were glued to one spot in the open sky. His gray-skin level fur glistened in the sun’s ray. “This time the key is mine!”

               This young canine boy was one of four in a group only known as the “Children of Darkness.” The Children of Darkness was a group of four individuals that served under a dark lord that was only known to a few as Kurodo Noyami.

Kurodo in of itself had no form to speak of, but it’s essence in of itself is what causes fear to those that knew its name. It was the personification of the concept of fear itself. At this time Kurodo no longer existed on this plane of reality, but he does exist in another – behind a locked door. That is where the “Children of Darkness” comes in.

The door was sealed away by five locks and only can be broken by five keys, otherwise known as the four keys of Black and the key to shadows. Each member of the Children of Darkness held a key of black, each one specialty made for each member of the Children of Darkness, but the fifth key was something different.

The “Key of Shadows” could never be created by someone of Darkness. Instead, as the name would suggest, could only be created from one place-

The young wolf-man raise his hand outward, as if he anticipated to be given something, “Elder priest of our lord of darkness, I beseech thee,” he tilted his head, as if he were chanting, “deliver upon me the radiance of black so that I may create the Key of Shadows from the heart of man.”

-The “Key of Shadows” comes from the heart of man. Inside of mankind’s heart exists the unlimited potential of love, life, and light; but also exists the possibility of casting even the blackest of shadows. It is from these shadows only that the fifth key to Dark Lord prison could be forged. And to forge that key-

Shadows lurk and fear reigns. Even in the brightest days there will always be the darkest of places. Even in the presence of the light of day there will always be the presence of the night.

“Great Priest Moon, I ask you for your power this day!”

-one simply needs the blessing of the moon. And with that blessing of the moon-

Despite the sun disappearing over the horizon at night, the moon never followed that same cycle. If one were to look up during the daytime one could easily see the moon, in all its pale and ghostly glory.

The wolf reached his hands towards the daytime moon with his outstretched arm, at first it seemed like it did nothing. But of course, in the light, anything could be deceiving. It’s subtle, but just like a golden drop of ray, the light reflects off from the moon’s body and down to earth like a drop of water from a faucet. It’s faint, but it’s only just a fraction the size of a drop of rain, smaller than even a human eye could detect. From the moon drips just a single drop of black energy.

The wolf reached his hand out grasping the moon’s single drop of darkness. “I thank thee, Great Priest.” He bowed his head in appreciation. He looked at drop of radiated blackness that just hovered over the palm of his hand. And then a sly smile stretched out from ear to ear. “It’s time for a Kureeper.” he tilted his hand.

-monsters can be created.

The single drop of darkness fell from the young wolf’s hand. The single drop of darkness fell from the top of the tree. The single drop of darkness fell through the cracks of leaves and branches, through the slashes of light that broke through. The single drop of darkness fell to the ground below. The single drop of darkness splashed onto a single beautiful red flower.

Then the flower exploded into a swirl of dark energy. Cries of children, their parents, and grandparents could be heard throughout the park as the air pressure erupted, blowing many aback. Then, at the epicenter of the spiraling darkness, a small figure where the small flower once stood started to grow and mutate, it grew at a pace of one’s own beating heart. The flower grew and grew into monstrous proportions. The stem of the flower split and grew into vines as thick as cinderblock cylinder’s, each end growing a massive flower itself just like the main body itself. The main “face” of the flower twisted and cracked until it formed what could be best described somewhat like a mouth.

“HANA-OH” the massive flower, otherwise known as the Flower Beast King, roared into the air like the massive monster towering over the it’s prey. Soon the screams started again as the normal every day people realized what was happening and the panicking started again. The Flower Beast King’s cracked face twisted into a perverted smile.

Up above the beast king in the tall tree the wolfman couldn’t help but grin ear-to-ear. “Go, Kureeper. Go and forge the ‘Key of Shadows.’” The Flower Beast King roared in delight as it began its attack as the screams continued to echo through the park.

With the power of the Beast Kings the “Children of Darkness” would be able to cause enough chaos and destruction that the despair that a human’s heart could fall into despair that their heart would forge the “Key of Shadows.”

Normal humans could never match up against the “Children of Darkness” or their monsters. But there is one group of people that can. Only one group that could drive out the darkness. And what are these heroes called?

“BARWOLF, STOP RIGHT THERE!” the wolfman, known as Barwolf, turned his attention away from his creation and down below to two familiar figures. Standing there were two familiar figures in a determined stance staring back at him with equal grit. Barwolf felt disgust as he looked at the young blonde girl, that couldn’t have been no older than fourteen.

“Well, Well, Well, if it isn’t the little witch girl.” Sucked at his teeth as he made a gesture with his hand. As he flicked his wrist, the Flower Beast King stopped its current attack and turned its attention as well to the little girl and her friend.

The little blonde girl turned her gaze at the wolfman in the tree and towards the Flower Beast King that towered over her, and then back at Barwolf. She was wearing a school uniform that she had on while heading in that morning for class, unique in a way that there was a yellow gem over her left breast. Despite her outburst the young girl was still a timid young teenager facing against two monsters that wanted nothing more than the end of all humans, of course she found herself shaking. But despite herself being overshadowed she did her best to stand her ground despite her instincts telling her to run. In short, her novice was showing.

“Kirara.” A voice came from beside the young girl. “You can do it!” The girl, Kirara, turned to look at the person that was standing next to her, but they weren’t standing no where nor were they human. Floating in the air at eye-level was what could be best described as a little mascot character, a little animal that would make the perfect stuff animal on the toy aisle. It was a tiny little creature that resembled that of a tiny polar bear cub with a cyan colored coat, with little arms and legs you could swear is filled with stuffing.

For a moment, Kirara processed what exactly the little creature said to her. Then she closed her eyes. She took a deep breath. Inhale. Exhale. Her anxiety washed away. Her shaking subsided. Then she opened her eyes, a new glow shined in her sun-colored eyes. “Thank you, Beareezy.” She nodded to the little mascot creature. Then she turned her gaze back at the two shadow creatures, now with a newfound determination. Or perhaps it was always there?

Barwolf snarled under its breath. “That’s enough! GET THE LITTLE WITCH, BEAST KING!!!” He commanded the much larger beast. And as a good servant, The Flower Monster followed its master’s order and lunged itself at the little schoolgirl.

Kirara flicked her waist-length sun-colored hair over her right shoulder with determination and then she threw the same hand outward cupped, bringing her other hand to her right chest. “Come, MAGICA KEY!” she snapped with her cupped hand, and just like magic a flash of light engulfed her hand and now she was holding a yellow key in her hand.

These young heroes were called Magical Girls, young females whose hearts shined the brightest to vanquish any shadows.

“MAGICA ROCK, UNLOCK!” then she brought the key to the yellow gem over her left breast, and as if it melted together, the two slid inside one another. Then with a flick of the wrist, Kirara turned the key with an audible click.

If the flower from earlier had erupted into an explosion of dark energy, than the young girl in front of the massive beast could be described as engulfed inside a ball of pure golden light. Taking place inside of the glowing orb was some form of metamorphosis. The Flower Beast King, even for just a moment, was stunned away.

Kirara’s once blonde hair seemed to not only double in length but somehow in its shade of yellow as it’s one single ponytail split into a pair of twintails with a bounce that seemed to break the known laws of gravity and almost seemed to float in the air. Then despite not wearing any prior, Kirara was beautified by a foundation and a coloring to her face that would please any child’s “adult” fantasy look. And then finally, after her school uniform dematerialized, she was given a beautiful white and yellow accented dress outfit with matching boots and gloves that would look good for any desired brush-able doll on a kid’s aisle. And finally, for one last touch, like a seed, the yellow gem that was over her left breast exploded into a beautiful yellow flower.

From an outsider’s point of view, this type of metamorphosis probably seemed to take a whole minute to witness. But the truth of the matter, as the glowing orb died as instantly as it came, the transformation that Kirara undertook was that merely of .05 seconds.

“Shining bright as the sun! Shining brightest as the flower!” Kirara stepped out of the glowing light and into a pose. “I am Mahou Sunlight!”

Barwolf’s ear twitch in aggravation, “I don’t have time for your little magic show, witch.” The wolfman hissed like a snake. “DESTROY HER!”

“HANA-OH!” the large beast king cried out once more as it threw down it’s arm-like vine to crush the much smaller girl standing in front of him. The ground shattered around the massive vine as the earth was upheaved. But it didn’t seem to connect with its target as Kirara seemed to disappear before it could hit its mark.

The Flower Beast King turned its head left and right, then it looked over its back, but he couldn’t find the little girl. But then he looked upwards towards the sun.

Up above the Beast King, almost hidden by the rays of sunlight, was a small figure. Kirara, or in this form Mahou Sunlight, wasn’t capable of flight but instead had leapt out of the creature’s attack before it could have even noticed that she was gone. And now, as if she had switched places with the monster before, she was towering over the massive beast. Then she started falling back to earth.

“GET HER!!!” Barwolf called out commanding his monster.

“HANA!” The Flower Beast King screeched as, like a viper, threw out it’s other arm at the magical girl to catch her as she fell towards it.

Mahou Sunlight, despite lacking any ability of flight, in midair, twisted her body in mid-air to use the centripetal force to parry the snake-like vine. As she did this it seemed as if she fell faster towards the large beast.

CRACK! Combined with the force of which she fell as well as her own sheer strength, Sunlight’s fist sank into the crooked face of the Beast King. The Flower Beast King’s head was sent rocketing backwards as he was repelled by the young girl’s punch. As the beast fell Sunlight was left free falling, a look on her face that screamed “a victory for justice.”

“HANA!!” The massive beast snapped back with a recoil, like rubber he bounced back with a massive head butt. Sunlight’s body was sent flying as the monster’s massive form connected with her more petite self.

But she was still okay as she had blocked the oncoming attack and landed on the ground with no marks on her body – the magic power that boosted her strength also gave her an almost unrealistic defense.

“HANA!” The massive cried out again, this time looking back up into the sky. It almost seemed as if the air around the monster started to reverberate. Energy, mostly likely the sun’s radiation, seemed to gather at the monster’s mouth in a great big ball. Then he ate it. “HANA!” He screeched like a banshee, unleashing the energy store in its mouth shooting a large all-encompassing laser at the child.

Sunlight clapped her hands together, “Flora Shield!” she called out throwing her hands flat out in front of her. A large, almost arcana-like, sunflower shield appeared before her facing towards the towering beast. As the monster’s laser connected with the sunflower, it began to absorb it with ease until the energy dissipated without causing any hard. Sunlight waved her hand, causing the large flower to disappear as easily as it appeared. Both Sunlight’s and the monster’s eye connected.

“HANA!” The flower Beast-king cried out, this time pissed, as it lunged itself at the little girl. It started to throw itself tentacle-like vines out like whips.

Sunlight started to dodge and block the monster’s attack, almost like a dance. She ducked under the overhead attacks, she flipped under the low hanging strikes, she parried every blow that tried to connect with her smaller frame. There was a certain grace to her movement as she seemed to be moving closer and closer to the monster.

CRACK! one more flip and Sunlight’s foot connected with the lower jaw of the beast, had it been a normal human no doubt the person would have been obliterated, with a force strong enough to send the monster off the ground. The monster cried out in anguish as it was sent flying. But the little magical girl wasn’t done yet.

With unbelievable and precise speed Sunlight leapt into the air positioning herself just above the air-borne monster. With another swift kick she stuck the beast. As her foot connected again, the monster plummeted to the ground with a dust explosion. Then the young girl landed on the ground a few feet away harmlessly. She turned back to look at the monster.

As the dust settled around it the monster gave out another cry. It tried to stand up. But it started to falter. It was clear that it was beaten. It was time for the finale.

“ROSE RAPIER!” Sunlight called forth as she brought her hand to the flower over her left breast. Yellow energy poured from the yellow rose and flowed into the young girl’s right hand. With a flick of her wrist, she threw out her arm to her side and the energy started to take a life of its own. The energy, seemingly going from a liquid to a solid, started to expand itself and rearrange itself in the girl’s hand. Stretching itself into a more befitting corporal form it turned itself into a sword. The sword, as Sunlight referred to it, was like that of a white rapier. It was undamaged, unscratched, unscathed, it was like it was freshly made. Adorned the hilt of the blade was a small yellow rose facing outwards. Sunlight brought the blade to her face, holding it like a knight with a graceful stand.

The beast’s eye twitched, it somehow knew what was coming. Fight or Flight. “HANA” It cried out as it lashed outwards and ran towards the girl.

Sunlight brought her left hand to the hilt of the rose rapier. “It’s over” she spoke softly, almost motherly, to the monster that charged at her. She ran her thumb, index, and middle finger up the side of the blade and as she did the rapier started to gain a glow that ran parallel to her free hand as it pulsed energy. She ran her hand off the tip of her blade.

The beast cried out again, using all its strength it threw one more desperation attack at the little girl. It was like a watching a dying animal fight until it’s last breath.

Almost blind to the monster’s struggle, Sunlight to a deep breath. She closed her eyes and lowered her body into a different pose, like that of a samurai. As she took her stance she waited. The Flower King’s last attack connected with her form.

But it was too late for the massive monster. Sunlight was no longer there in front of him. And he finally lost the strength to fight. It was as if any animosity was cut clean through. It was too late for him to realize that he was already dead.

“It’s okay.” A calming voice came from behind the monster. “I’m here.” he turned to see the young magical girl standing there holding the blade in both hands. But now that he no longer held any negative emotion, he seemed to have been taken back by her. Despite their fighting, she wasn’t looking at him with any hatred towards him. It wasn’t pity either. She looked up at him with kindness and a warmness that could melt any cold heart. He hadn’t been alive for more than fifteen minutes, but he quickly learned just what made this child so special. It was the light inside of her heart.

Sunlight smiled with a warm soft glow like that of a caring mother. “I hope that next time, we can be friends.” She ran her left hand down the side of her Rose rapier, and as she did the energy that flowed down started to disappear. “Goodbye.” She said as she closed out the battle. “Until next time.”

The Flower King’s death finally registered through his massive body. But inside of the clammy wetness of death, he felt a warmth overcome him. In those last few moments, as his life trickled away, he didn’t fear death. He felt happy. I’m glad that I was born, I’m glad I was able to meet this young girl, were possibly the monster’s last thought. “Hana~” the Flower Beast King died with a gentle smile on his face.

Then he exploded.

The resulting explosion caused a dust to erupt into the air, but as quickly as it happened it started to subside. As the dust settled, Sunlight found herself staring at the place where the monster had just perished. There, where the Flower Beast King lost its life, was a patch of red flowers glowing beautifully in the sun’s warm light.

“Useless Beast-king!” Barwolf snarled as he watched another creation of his be destroyed. “I’ll get both you little witches next time.” With his threat out of the way, the young wolfman disappeared into the darkness, no doubt planning his next dastardly deed.

The young Magical Girl Sunlight stood there for a moment, taking in for a moment of what she did. She did well to protect the innocent bystanders of the people that were visiting the park and kept damages to a minimum. And she hoped that she was able to save the flower creature.

“SUNLIGHT!” a voice came from the young girl, she turned around to see her little flying companion. “You did it~ You did it~ Another Good Job~” Beareezy flew over to the young girl’s side with a smile on it’s button-nosed face congratulating her. “I can’t believe,” he said bouncing around in the air, “Second week on the job and you were able to defeat your second Beast-King.” He said excitedly. “You’re a natural!”

Sunlight smiled at the small creature, “Thanks,” she said-

Then she fell to her knees.

#magical girl #sailor moon #precure #mahou shoujo

[homogrimoire-archive]

The Remnant Branches

CH. 5 - Ash Qrow

Qrow ventures into the world where day and night are at a standstill. There, he gets stuck with a bunch of kids, and a book or two.

AO3 Link

You can kill two birds with one stone. But if those two birds are the same bird, are you really killing two birds?

-

Qrow flew right into a large rock that was hurled from below. With a caw, he flew away with it. It hurt like hell, but honestly, he was used to such inconveniences.

“Kainé! You hit that poor bird!” berated a child’s voice.

“What? It’s not my fault the damn thing came out of nowhere.” a woman said as she tore through a shadowy monster.

As Qrow recovered, he looked down below. There were four people: two young adults, and two children. There were also two floating books, one white, and the other red. The two children fought together, while the male teen and the white book fought together. The woman, whose clothing could hardly count as clothing, fought with the red book. He thought of joining in the fight to help them out, but they were taking care of the monsters, shades, he remembered, as if it were having a picnic. Not only that, they all used magic. He was happy to have found what he was looking for on his first day.

Qrow spent the rest of that first day scouting the surrounding area. Nearby, was a small village, a seaside town, a small desert civilization, a run down factory, a forest, and a village built into a cliff side. In the distance, he could see dilapidated buildings, an abandoned city in ruins. He knew that whatever happened to this world was unimaginable. He knew that if Salem won, Remnant could very well end up like that part of the world.

The first place he visited was the tavern of the village the four stayed in. His first order of business was to find out preliminary information on them. Bars were one of the best places to get info. Alcohol flowed, and information flowed with it. However, bars in small places could be either hit or miss with information. The people in such bars would either be too tight-lipped, wanting to keep their community’s secrets, or all too eager to share the latest gossip. He was all too happy to find this bar a hit. Great information, with even greater alcohol. He decided then that post-apocalyptic alcohol was the best.

“You mean you haven’t heard of them!? They’re like, only the strongest people in the world!”

“I’ve seen Grimoire Weiss and Nier take on an army of shades all alone! I wish I was as awesome as they were.”

“Kainé is soooo cool. She and Rubrum took down a shade the size of three building in five minutes flat. She even saved me from this giant shade and helped me up. I haven't washed my hand since she touched it.”

“Emil and Halua are soo adorable! And so strong too! Don’t let their looks fool you though. I heard that they took on Weiss, Nier, Kainé, and Rubrum on in a spar, and won.”

“They’re gonna save the world! Once they find The Shadowlord, we’ll be free of the shades at last!”

Qrow was having a great time. Apparently, he had showed up after a rare performance from the village’s leaders. The bar was filled with laughter and chatter. While he was chatting away with some man, he heard a roar rise from the crowd.

“Oh man! Here comes the main event!” said the man.

Qrow saw that an arm wrestling contest was going on, and the champion was one of the village leaders, the one with the straight hair. She seemed more drunk than anyone else, and did not appear particularly strong. The first opponent was a woman, a dainty thing that went down easy. Next was a beefy man. He went down with only a smudge of struggle on the champion’s part. After him was an even beefier woman. She was defeated just as easily.

“Come on! One more opponent! Who else wants to face me? You!” She pointed right at Qrow. “You’re a new face! Get over here! Let’s see how you hold up against me!”

Qrow shrunk and tried to get out of the challenge, but, the crowd pushed him forward. He may have been drunk, but still knew that it was almost never a good idea to attract attention on a mission. However, there was no good way of getting out of it, so he went to his slaughter. She sized him up and smirked. Their hands interlocked, and the match began. Qrow put up a better fight than the others. He assumes it is because of his aura helping out. But, she unleashes a burst of strength that not only seals her victory, but breaks the table they were playing on. While Qrow picks himself up, the champion raises a leg onto her chair and relishes her victory.

“Popola! Popola!” the crowd chanted. Qrow knew that there was more to this woman than meets the eye. But, pursuing her would have been illogical. He had his lead on magic, and would focus on that.

It wasn’t his first loss at arm wrestling. That was with Tai. Summer ended up winning Team STRQ’s little tournament. It was a nice memory. But, a memory is all it ultimately all was. He spent the rest of that day gathering bits and pieces of information on the group, nursing the great beer out of his canteen.

The Shadowlord and the black book, Noir, had taken the Nier’s kid sister. The two children were siblings and had lived at the mansion. Kainé had lived at the Aerie, the place built into the cliffside. Grimoire Weiss, who insisted on being referred to by his full name, and Kainé did not get along. Rubrum and Nier don’t get along. Rumor has it that Nier and Kainé are dating. Nier’s weapon is named Beastcurse. None of the info he gathers pertains to the specifics of the magic they wield.

Qrow always found sleep difficult, and the eternal sun only made it harder. He wondered why Popola was so strong. Ozpin didn’t mention anything about the people having such strength. He rested alone in a tree at the top of a hill in the village, and was grateful that it at least wasn’t cold. However, he was filled with apprehension. The previous two days had gone well. Too well for someone like him. All he could do was wait for things to inevitably go south.

-

Qrow was awoken by the sound of a scream. He quickly jumped out of the tree, but landed on his foot wrong and fell on his face. He quickly gets up and scans the area with his sword in hand. He notices that a kid is in front of him, protecting a shade.

“Don’t hurt him! He’s a good shade!” the kid pleas. Behind the child, the shade is cowering. Qrow then realizes that the two were probably just playing, and he heard laughter, not screaming.

“Don’t worry kid. If he’s a good shade, then I won’t hurt him.” He reassures as he sheaths Harbinger.

“Alright...” the kid says warily as she lowers her arms. From behind, the small shade seems to relax as well. “What were you doing sleeping in a tree anyways? Birds sleep in trees. Are you part bird or something?” the kids says, suspicious of Qrow.

“Nope, not part bird or anything.” he quickly clarifies. He’s technically not lying.

“What’s your name then, mister?” the child asks.

“Qrow.” he answers nervously. The child looks at the shade, and the shade looks back at her. Qrow knows that they know something is up.

“Ok then, Mister ‘not a bird’ Qrow. Wanna play with us?” she innocently asks, as if she weren’t just suspicious of him.

“No. No thanks, I’m good.” He says as he begins to back away.

“Sure?” she says. The shade comes forth, saying something in its odd voice as it holds out a palm full of worms. “We were just digging for worms. Don't you think that’s fun?”

“That’s, that’s good for you. I’m not interested though. I really should get going.” he lightly laughs to counteract the heaviness around him. The worms do seem enticing. The shade mumbles something again, and holds out some shiny objects. Qrow begins to sweat.

“Or maybe we could play with these shiny toys? They’re sooo shiny.” she smiles as she tempts him as she holds one up to the sun, making it sparkle brilliantly. He almost can’t handle it. He can’t handle it. With a loud caw, he transforms in an instant, and flies away.

“HA! YOU WERE RIGHT!” he hears her shout as he makes his escape. “You were right! He was magic! That’s how he lasted that long against Popola! I knew you were right!” Turning his head to look back, he sees the two dancing with each other, sharing their small victory. It was heartwarming, even if it felt like he was just being interrogated by them. However, he wonders why his avian urges were so strong. He chalks it up to his bad luck.

Since he was already flying, he decides to see if he can find that group of kids. He sees them in the plains below. And they’re riding huge, wild boars. They’re all laughing and screaming in wild joy as they head towards the town in the cliff face. However, he notices that the demeanor in the woman seems tense. He remembers that she lived there, and might have some bad memories of the place. He’s glad she had her friends with her though.

As they entered the cavern, he flew overhead and took the time to scan the town. It seemed no different than when he first saw it, save for a small gathering of people on one of the large platforms. He imagines that’s where they’re heading, but he knows he could be wrong. He perched on a wire above the group of merchants and customers.

“There they are.” One person says.

“Ok, get ready. Act like we planned.” whispers another.

“Did you say something?” asks one of the merchants.

“Huh, oh, no. I just remembered something.”

“Ah, ok.”

That’s not suspicious at all. Qrow thought to himself. He kept himself alert. The guy with the white book finally entered the little market. He hopped up the wire to see if he could find where the others were, and found them waiting at the entrance. They appeared to be chatting with each other.

Down below, he heard the book and the guy making small talk with the people there, and buying a few things.

“Everyone? Every one? Every one? Everyoneeveryoneeveryoneeveryoneeveryone…” said a guard as his voice morphed into the sound of a shade. And in a puff of smoke, he and a few others transformed into shades.

“Crap, an ambush.” Nier said.

“So it seems.” Weiss commented.

From his vantage point, Qrow could see more shades gathering around the other parts of the village. He decided then that now was the time to help.

He flies to a bridge where more shades have gathered, and with the slash of his sword, he sends them flying back. A few fall off the bridge to whatever lies below, but more shades manifest to take their place.

“Forget how to actually kill a shade, old man?” berates the female teen as she slashes through slade after shade on the other side of the bridge.

“Hey! I’m not old!” Qrow answers back.

“Then start killing them properly, or leave, dumbass. Rubrum, play Cold Steel Coffin.”

“Ooh, nice choice.” The red book compliments as she opens up and flies through her pages. “Tear those blood bags to shreds!” From her pages flows a song in an unknown tongue.

Vlee sieh tah, Vlee sieh reeh, Vlee raun stee yah, Vlee yon ston reeh. Begins the powerful, almost terrifying song. Kainé tears through the shades with even greater ferocity than before, their blood devoured by the red book as the volume intensifies.

“Kickass!” she shouts as a shade is torn to shreds, as promised. Her movements become quicker and quicker, stronger and stronger, and before Qrow can take care of even five, she’s already taken care of the rest of the shades on that bridge. “Out of my way old timer!” she says as she rushes past him.

“Kainé! Hold on!” Qrow hears a boy shout.

“Yeah, hold up!” A girl also shouts.

“We’re sorry about her.” The girl says.

“She just really gets into it when Rubrum plays a cool song.” The boy says.

“So, what’s your name? I’m Halua, and this is my twin brother.” she introduces.

“Hello, I’m Emil. It’s nice to meet you.” he says with a slight bow.

“Qrow. Nice to meet you two. We should chat later though, huh?”

“Oh, you’re right. We really should. Hm, follow me Emil.” she says.

“Okay!” he replies as he takes her hand. They proceed to walk off the bridge, and onto the empty air as if it were solid ground.

Nobody bats an eye at the two, but Qrow. The sound of a shade screaming right in front of his face scares him, and he jumps off the bridge. He turns into a bird to fly back up, but rather than his wings, he is instead brought back up by some unknown force.

“Huh? A bird?” Halua questions.

“You can turn people into birds? That’s new. Do you think you can turn me into a parrot later? I always wanted to be a colorful parrot!” Emil exclaims happily.

“Nooo. Waaaait… Qrowwww… Crowwwww… Sorry mister, I’ll let you go now!” she shouts from the center of the canyon as she releases her magical grip on him. “Let’s get back to this. Tell me when it sounds right.” she tells Emil as they toy with a glyph.

“What the hell???” he wonders. It’s the second time that day a kid guessed his magical secret. What that said about the adults in Remnant wasn’t good. Then again, it wasn’t like magic was common in Remnant.

He shifts back into a human and gets back to taking care of shades. By now, the song echoed through The Aerie for all to hear and empower. Qrow had to admit that it did help with the fighting, as it paired well with his fighting style. Despite the toughness of their armor and tendency to block, he soon finds himself flying through shade after shade at a good pace.

Everynow and then, he takes a look at one of the kids to see how they’re holding up. The villagers at the tavern had evidently placed their praise well. Nier and Weiss work as an experienced duo, efficient, clean, and powerful. Kainé and Rubrum, all Kainé really, were a shade killing machine. They are brutal, swift, and deadly. While Kainé hacks, Rubrum dances to the beat of the song as best a book can. Then it seems as if the young twins then appear to have finished their task.

“There! That’s it” Emil says excitedly.

“Alright. Applying the buff!” she announces. With an otherworldly, fear-inducing glow surrounding her, she absorbs the glyph, and Qrow finds that Harbinger is glowing as well. Looking around, he sees that Nier and Kainé’s weapons are glowing as well. A quick slash of the scythe shows what the buff was: armor nullification. Harbinger went through the armor harming the shade underneath.

“Fuck yeah!” Kainé yells with joy.

“Will she ever learn to hold her tongue around them?” Weiss wondered.

“Fuck yeah!” Emil and Halua echo as they jump with joy.

“I think it might be a little late for that, boo─ Grimoire Weiss.” Qrow corrected before he could finish.

“Well, at least someone has the decency to respectfully use my full name. Who might you be anyways?” Weiss asks

“Qrow. It looked like you guys could use some help, so here I am.” He responds.

“That’s nice of you, but─” Nier begins before being cut off by Weiss.

“Shush! No buts! We’re taking all the help we can get. Bah! Teenagers!” Weiss says as he shakes his head, or that’s what it looks like he’s doing.

“Don’t worry Weissy, we’ll be good teenagers when we grow up!” Halua says earnestly as she and Emil join them.

“But I wanna be like Kainé! She’s awesome!” Emil argues.

“Sorry Weissy, nevermind.”

“Apologize not. This old book has given up hope long ago.” he says tiredly.

“Done!” They hear Kainé probably declare as she joins them.

“Another day of honest work is complete!” Rubrum chimes as the song fades out. Slowly, they all begin to notice the ominous, dark mist that vibrates all around The Aerie.

“Rubrum! This is why you have to be more careful with the songs!” Nier reprimands.

“Oh calm down you big baby.” she tells him without a care in the world. “Like I said last time, it’s nothing we won’t be able to handle.”

“Last time?” Qrow asks.

“We were relaxing on the beach, and she was playing Repose. We even didn’t notice the giant shade in the ship.”

“Hey, things ended up alright, didn’t they?” she defended herself.

“I broke an arm! The mailman almost died! Halua was tired out for a week!”

“Well your arm’s okay now, the mailman is still alive, and Halua recovered. What’s your point?” she told him. Nier growled in frustration as he covered his face.

“Lose later Nier, we have a new friend to make.” Kainé smiled cruelly.

Before them, in the center of The Aerie, a giant shade formed. It was unlike previous shades. Its size made it in a part of a very small class of shades. It was a perfect, dark sphere. Tendrils, or perhaps tails, slithered to and fro to reveal what seemed to be an eye in the center. Its roar could be felt as it traveled through the air, rattling their bones through their flesh.

“Emil! Halua!” Weiss shouted.

“On it!” they answered, and began to manipulate a new glyph.

“Until they’re done, we’ll practice the tried and true method of concussive maintenance.” Weiss continues.

“If it worked on a grimoire, what wouldn't it work on?” Rubrum added.

“Emil and Halua.” Kainé answered.

“Dare I ask again?” Qrow dared to ask.

“Does it look like we have the time?” Weiss responded. As the monster appeared to wind up for an attack.

“Nope.”

With such a monstrosity, Qrow expected it to whip its many tentacles at them, or attack with some kind of magical energy. He expected wrong. It unleashed some kind of gas, a sickly pale green color. They all had no chance to try to avoid it.

What are you even doing here? You’re just endangering those kids. Don’t you know that, idiot? Or maybe you want bad things to happen to them? Why stop there? Make everyone as miserable as you! Oh wait, you already do that, you pathetic excuse for a human.

“I do, don’t I? That’s all I ever do, bring everyone bad luck and make them miserable. Why am I still here? I─”

“I am just a freak. I shouldn’t be here, near anyone. A monster with a cursed body like mine shouldn’t even exist…”

“Why is a broken guy like me even here? I don’t want to be here in this terrible world. It would be easier if I were gone.”

“I need to be alone. I need to be alone. They can’t turn to stone that way. If I never look at them, if I’m never close to them, my cursed eyes can't petrify them.”

“I’m just a weapon. That’s all I was ever good for. I couldn’t even protect Emil. A weapon like me shouldn’t exist. I never wanted this. I never wanted to be this...”

“I─ I─ I─ Snap out of it! Quit saying those things! Snap out of it!” Qrow yelled to the children.

“Use a song!” Weiss shouted as he fended off the shades as best he could.

“I have to find a proper one, or be given one! You know how this works!” Rubrum frustratedly replied. “God shit fuck!” she cursed as more and more shades inched closer, and closer.

“Hey, Rubrum, find one for me!” Qrow requested. All he knew he could do was protect the kids. “Weiss, try to wake them!”

“Scanning…” Rubrum said as Qrow began to attack the shades. “Searching… Found one. Ooh! She’s a beauty!” The song starts calmly enough. It gets a simple rhythm going in him, then…

Pain! Is your reward for being near me. Fate! Won't be your friend when I’m around. Blame! Me for the tragedy that follow. Grave! The situation that surround. …

Unfortunately for the armored shades, Halua’s buff was still active. They were felled easily, feeding more and more blood to the red book. More and more blood, more and more song and power, it was intoxicating.

“Blood!” she giggles. “Blood blood blood blood, blood!” She spins and twirls in ecstacy. “Make this song the end of the shades!” Qrow was happy to oblige. A tendril accidentally pierces an ally, a shade trips and runs its sword through another.

“Misfortune wins again!” Qrow laughs as he ends another shade. “I’ll bring you down! I’ll bring you all down!” he announces to his enemies.

His misfortune finally targets him when he gets unlucky and the last shade pins his cape down, causing him to fall onto Halua, waking her in the process.

“Huh?! What!?” she says, confused, having been broken out of the trance..

“I need to be alone… So my eyes won’t hurt anyone… Alone…”

“What? Emil, no, don’t say that!” she tells her brother. She then turns to the giant shade with fury in her eyes. The air becomes heavy, and the last shade runs away in fear..

“Weiss, Rubrum, get them out of here.” she orders. An image of a skeletal beast flickers around her. “Mister, get Emil for me.” He obeys, and picks up the child.

“What about you?” he asks her.

“Just get Emil to safety.” she solemnly tells him as she summons a glyph in front of her. The shade strikes it, but screeches in pain as dangerous power cackled from it in defense.

“You better come back safe too, kid.” he tells her.

“I will. Rubrum? Can you play the song? I need to be able to hear it too.”

“Sure can do. I have more than enough blood for that. And remember Halua, we’ll be with you no matter what.”

“We are a family, after all” Weiss says. Halua smiles, and the beast appears for a split second once more.

“I know.” The song begins, calm and soft with its ethereal vocalization.

Kaun mon-no ruutra, Kaun oulvadei-gyaiya, Droh fee lai-narszes, Whoul sheeg-ma rae, Restivaun, Whoul vajei hli mehg jzu, Sii-kyathrae, Whestel-ou har thehgehy, Quin-deskuel, Shoul-yaneiyan …

Soon, the song becomes not just calm and soft, but powerful and imposing as well. From the safety at the top of the canyon, the song echoes below. Qrow can see the beast flickering in and out of reality more and more.

“Earthly Zenith of Modernity, The uncontrollable might of solitons, The spiritus that threatens to devour all, Avenge and atone in the name of all that is accursed! Number Six!” Halua yelled as she activated the glyph. “Deconstruct!” The beast appears from behind her, and consumes her with a bone-chilling cry.

“What is that?” Qrow asks in terror with his mouth agape. Emil awoke and jumped out of his arms.

“It’s my sister, Number Six, The Ultimate Weapon. We were made to be weapons long ago.” Emil explains as he faces his sister, sensing the intense and unparalleled magic.

“What you are witnessing is perhaps the most powerful magic in all the world, much more powerful than even a grimoire.” Weiss reveals as The Ultimate Weapon latches onto the large shade and tries to tear through its protective tendrils.

“Mmnnn,” Kainé groans, “What the hell happened?” Number Six lets out a piercing screech as she jumps to cling to a cliff, and fires a beam of energy that the giant shade just barely avoids. The spot where the beam hit is pulverized into nothingness for who knows how deep. Quickly, Kainé jumps up to see her. “Halua! Halua! Goddammit!”

“Is she gonna be alright?” Qrow hopes she will be.

“She will recover, just like last time.” Weiss answers confidently. “But...”

Finally, she had the shade cornered. She howls as the song begins its closing. Cowering in horror, the shade makes a last ditch attempt to win, firing a volley of magic at Number Six. She is unphased as The Ultimate Weapon activates its true might. A bright light begins to grow from where they are. At a steady pace, it swells and devours the shade and everything else in the vicinity, turning it all into nothing. When The Ultimate Weapon deactivates, an unflinching Halua, eyes glowing a dull red, stands where Number Six once was.

-

“Are you sure you guys are alright with me being around?”

“Yeah old timer, we’re sure.” Kainé assures him.

“It’ll be only for a few days anyways, like you said.” Nier adds.

“Besides, fuckers like us have to stick together.” she reasons.

“And if the world can’t handle us, we’ve gotta find other fuckers who can!” Rubrum exclaims joyously.

“In a sense, we create a world of our own.” Weiss states.

“That’s… a nice way to think of it. A world of our own, one that’ll accept a bad luck charm like me. I like the sound of that.”

-

Qrow had arrived right in the path of a large rock that was hurled from below. He let out a pained caw as it struck him as he fell. It hurt like hell, but honestly, he was used to such inconveniences.

“Kainé! You hit that poor bird!” berated a child’s voice.

“What? It’s not my fault the damn thing came out of nowhere.” a woman said as she tore through a shadowy monster and looked up. “Wait, that’s not a bird. It’s a guy?”

“It is!” Emil gasped as he saw that Kainé was indeed right. “Don’t worry mister, I’ll save you!” With a wave of his staff, he slowed Qrow’s descent and uprighted him. Lightly, he landed on the ground. “Hmm?” Emil said as he cocked his uncanny head in confusion.

Qrow, meanwhile, realized that this was where the voice of the child was coming from. But he had little time to ponder the realization, as he sensed an enemy nearby, a skill honed from all his years as a huntsman. Swiftly, he unsheathes his sword and slashes at the shade to send it backwards. The lady in lingerie, Kainé, followed up and stabbed the shade in the chest, pinning it to the ground.

“Gawk later Emil.” she tells him as she extracts her sword and moves onto the next enemy.

“R─Right!” he says in an embarrassed tone. “Sorry mister!” he apologizes as he returns to fighting.

“Don’t worry about it kid.” Qrow replies as he joins the fray to help finish off the last of the little shadowy demons.

“So, who the hell are you?” Kainé asks him.

“Qrow.” he answers.

“A better question is, how does a man end up so high in the sky?” the book inquired.

“Ooh, I know that! It was magic!” Emil excitedly answered. “You were the bird Kainé hit huh?”

“Yeah, and it hurt.” an irritated Qrow said as he took a quick drink from his flask. Normally, it would be good to hide his little talent, but there was no reason to try to hide it now that the kid could sense the magic.

“Well damn. That sucks.” she replies nonchalantly.

“Weren’t you ever taught some manners?” he jabs.

“You’re wasting your time with this hussy. Manners are as foreign to her as proper attire.”

“Why don’t you two go and do whatever the fuck it is old timers like you do and shut up?” she jabs back.

“Hey Emil, how were you able to tell it was magic anyways?” Nier asks as they continue arguing. He is mostly unphased by their conversation, and the fact that the man is walking with them to the boat, even though he could just leave. A man falling out of the sky and joining them hardly compared to a kid getting consumed by his weaponized sister, and then joining him.

“Hey! I’m not even that old!”

“And my age is a symbol of my infinite wisdom and arcane power!”

“I just sensed it. It’s different from Weiss’ magic though, and Kainé’s and mine too.”

“Weird.” Nier commented. “Hey, uh, Qrow?”

“What now?”

“What kind of magic do you have?”

“Hell if I know. It was a gift from a friend of mine.” he answers. “What about the rest of you?”

“Mine is from my sister. We were experimental weapons.” he answers solemnly.

“Wha─??”

“It is a sad, and long story.” Weiss says.

“Still, it’s pretty cool that you’re an ultra powerful weapon though.” Nier says.

“Yeah, it’s pretty fucking kickass.” Kainé adds on. “Way cooler than some boring old book.”

“Aww, you guys...” he says shyly.

“I’ll have you know that my magic is far older than you can even fathom, hussy. But I unfortunately cannot answer your question because someone,” he paused as he looked specifically at Nier, “found it acceptable to perform concussive maintenance on The Grimoire Weiss.”

“I said I was sorry like a million times already.” Nier exaggerated.

“You are fortunate you have my mercies.”

“As always Wiess, as always. But, we’re here.” Nier says as they arrive at the boat.

“I’ll go ahead and scout the area. That tower place, I’m guessing? I’ll let you know if I see anything unusual.” Qrow tells them as he shifts to his avian form.

“Hey, wait, don’t you want to─ Aww, he’s gone.” Emil lamented as Qrow flew away.

-

Qrow scans the backside of the structure. It’s a bunch of shoddy workmanship. Loose planks of wood, metal poles, and cheap ladders are what make up this sorry excuse. But oddly, it does not appear to be old. In fact, it seemed like a recent addition to the place. Nothing is rusted, and none of the wood is rotten either. A few shades even jumped about, and nothing creaks or breaks. It is suspicious, and screams that this is a set up.

Regardless, he defeats about half the shades that lingered on the platforms built into the stone by the time the boat arrives. They’re tougher than the ones on the plain, but they fall just the same, into a dark smoke, and then into nothing. Despite how uncanny it was that slicing into them felt somewhat akin to slicing aura, they were otherwise oddly reminiscent of grimm. What wasn’t reminiscent of a grimm was their ability to bleed.

“Damn, save some for the rest of us!” Kainé yells. “Some of us have a bone to pick with the fuckers!”

“Quit crying and hurry up then!” he shouts to her down below. “Damn kid…” he complains as he takes a small drink from his flask. For all he knows, he won’t be able to refill it anytime soon.

Kainé swiftly jumps up a few platforms above him and starts her slaughter. While Nier and Weiss slowly make their way up, taking care of the few shades that happen to appear, Emil floats up to Qrow.

“So mister, where are you from?” he asks curiously as he floats a few feet away from the platform.

“A place called Remnant.”

“Well that’s an odd name. What’s it a remnant of?”

“It’s just what we’ve called it. Don’t know why either.” Qrow answered as he climbed up a ladder.

“Oh… Well how about your name? Did you get it after the magic, or was it a cool coincidence?”

“It was the name I was born with. Can’t say if I know it’s a coincidence though.” Qrow quickly replied.

“Emil,” interjected Weiss, “leave the poor man alone. He appears to be tired of your barrage of questioning.”

“It’s fine.” he responded. “I’m used to this kinda thing.”

“If you insist.” the book replied in his snotty tone. Something about it seemed familiar, but he couldn’t quite put it on his finger yet.

“Are you sure? I don’t wanna be a bother.”

“If I can handle my two little girls, I can handle a single kid. Don’t worry about it. But─” He was cut off by a loud and excited gasp from Emil.

“Oh my god! You have two daughters? I bet they’re adorable!”

“What? No. I mean, they are adorable, but they’re not my daughters. They’re my nieces.”

“You just said they were your kids, dumbass.”

“How about you mind your own business?”

“How about I─” she began before her heel got caught in a gap in the planks of wood, causing her to fall backwards. “Ack! Fucking bitch! Stupidass wood!” she cursed as she got up and angrily punted the guilty board.

“Kainé! Look out!” Emil warns her.

“What?” she turns to see a shade about to strike her, and that it is too late to react. Ooh it’s gonna be my turn soon, Sunshine! Bwahahaha!

To her surprise, and Tyrann’s, they don’t feel the slash of the shade’s sword. Qrow is in front of her, blocking the attack. He knocks away the weapon, and brings the shade to its demise.

“I’ll be up top.” is all he tells her before he flies away.

“Hey, wait up! I’ll join you!” Emil says as he follows the black bird.

“Did you scare him off already?” Kainé hears the book assume.

“What happened?” Nier asks as he and the grimoire neared her.

“Shut up. He just went off on his own for no damn reason.”

“Hmm. Odd guy huh?” Nier asked no one, as Kainé and Weiss were already beginning the hour’s bickering.

Meanwhile, Emil chased after the man, wondering why he seemed so insistent on being alone. He didn’t seem like a bad guy who had anything bad to hide. Then again, looks could be deceiving. Emil knew that very well. Emil concluded that it was perhaps something about himself the man was hiding, maybe something he was ashamed of. Kainé was like that at first, and he probably would have really been like that without her.

“I’m here!” Emil announced once he caught up with Qrow. “Man, you fly fast.”

“Wouldn’t you rather be with your friends, kid?” he questioned the kid.

“Ohh, I don’t mind. I just wouldn’t want you to be alone. Being alone sucks most of the time, huh?”

“Meh. I’m used to it.” he waved dismissively, taking a small drink from his flask.

“Still, it’s better to be friends than alone.”

“Not always, kid.”

“Not always?! It’s always better to be with friends!” Emil shouted, to which Qrow winced at the young boy’s volume. “Oh, sorry.”

“It’s fine. But I just prefer to be alone.” Qrow said as he took a seat.

“Why?” Emil asked. He could see that Qrow was thinking.

“Back in my world,” he began, “everyone has a sort of ‘magic’ more or less unique to them. We call it a semblance, and mine is Misfortune. It brings bad luck to anyone nearby. I’m sure you can see why now.”

“Hmm, I do see. … Well, that’s alright. I’d still rather be here with you than let you be alone.” He could see that Qrow froze for a moment, as if the words were somehow familiar, then he regained his composure and let out a short chuckle.

“You’re a funny kid, you know?” Qrow joked.

“Im serious! I know I only sound like a little kid, but I’m older than you!” Emil fussed.

“Yeah, let me guess, a thousand years old?”

“Mmm,” Emil pondered, ���somewhere around there.” Qrow looked at him as if he were telling an obvious lie.

“Well, I guess I should explain. You told me something about you, and I’ll tell you something about myself. It’s not a very happy story though.” Emil sat down to tell the tale of him and his sister.

“And so, Emil and Halua Grimm became the most powerful weapons in the world.” He finished wistfully.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.” Qrow said solemnly.

“Yeah… But at least it led me to Nier, Weiss, and Kainé. I wouldn’t trade my time with them for anything. Okay! Now tell me something about yourself!” Qrow was shocked by the sudden shift in mood, but was happy to entertain the child.

“My name is Qrow, with a “q”, and my last name is Branwen, though that’s just the name of the tribe I grew up in. So, would your name happen to be spelled with two “m”s?”

“Yeah. Me and Halua always wondered why though. Do you think you could know why?”

“Well, like this world has Shades, my world has Grimm. I think it’s just a coincidence though.” Qrow says as he takes a sip. “Besides, you’re a hell of a lot better than any Grimm back home.” It was hard to discern, but Qrow could tell he was happier than before. That made him happier too. “So, were your eyes silver, by any chance?”

“No,” Emil began somewhat shyly, “they were more of a really light purple. Though, I think they were a different color before I gained my petrification, but I can't remember what color exactly if they were different.. Could people with silver eyes petrify things in your world?”

“They could petrify Grimm. That’s about it though. But, people with silver eyes are said to be destined to become great warriors.”

“I think Nier said that Yonah had silver eyes.” Emil mentioned.

"What about Yonah?" They heard Nier say as he climbed up to where the two were sitting. At their own paces, the two got up.

"That she has silver eyes, right? Qrow said that in his world, they become awesome fighters!"

"Hmm… I don’t think she’s fit for the warrior lifestyle. But, if it’s a sigh that she'll live a longer life, I'll take it. But until then,"

"We keep on going, yeah, yeah. Let's hurry up already." Kainé interrupted as she kicked the rock blocking their entrance out of the way. "I haven't killed enough shithole shades for today."

"The hussy is right that we should move along. The sooner we take care of things, the better." Weiss stated as he ushered them in.

Once inside, the place was virtually unchanged since Nier's last visit. Kainé didn't think much of the place. Weiss seemed shocked that this was the place where he was stored. Emil, however, was clearly enamored by the place.

"Wowww… this place is pretty, isn't it?" He praised quietly as he floated over towards the center where the towering tree stood. There, warm sunlight filtered through, alleviating the coldness of rusting metal and decaying concrete.

"Hmm. It would be a nice place to relax for a little bit." Qrow responds as he follows Emil. It's quiet and calm there. He thinks it could have been a hotel, based on the layout.

"Not while shades are here though." Nier commented as the soulless monsters readied to fight.

Promptly, the group got to culling the local shade population. Swords galore, magic, and a favored spear, all end the lives of the shadowy entities. Some are even left petrified.

"Emil, you can still petrify shit?" Kainé asks him out of curiosity.

"Yeah, I, um..." he begins as if feeling guilty.

"Sweet. Smashing stone shades really hits the spot." Kainé smiled cruelly as she reduced a statue to rubble. "Ahh, that felt bitchin'."

Briefly, Qrow contemplated if he should allow himself to cuss. On one hand, he would feel a lot better. On the other, he was just starting to be able to control his tongue around Ruby and Yang, and he didn't want to undo his hard work. It took a lot more effort than he would have wanted to admit.

"Hey, Qrow?" Nier called to get his attention.

"Yeah?" Qrow called back before tripping over a stair step and hitting his head. "Fucking stair!" he snarled. Cussing was fine so long as it wasn't around Ruby and Yang, he decided. If he wasn't around them, it was alright. He then noticed the shade above him.

"I've got you!" Emil shouted. Swiftly, it was petrified, and then destroyed by Kainé.

"Careful old timer." Kainé warned as she helped him up. "Can't have your ass dying on us."

"Such a kind soul you have, helping an old man like me." he teased.

"Pft." she responded as she rolled her eyes. She heard a snicker come from Weiss and snapped her neck at him. "Got somethin to say, book?"

"Oh, to a kind, young woman such as yourself? Heavens no." He replied.

"If you say so, Weissy." she glared at him with an innocent grin. As they continued their trademark bickering, with Emil joining in to unwittingly embarrass both of them, Nier returned to his conversation with Qrow.

"So, what else can you tell me about those silver eyed fighters?" Nier questioned as he stabbed another shade through it's armor.

"Back in my world, they're a myth at most to many. But, they do exist. With their eyes alone, they can take down hordes of Grimm. I guess the equivalent here would be Shades."

"I’d just be happy if Yonah could even go a day without needing a nap, if I'm being honest."

"What's wrong with her?"

"The Black Scrawl. There's no cure for it yet, but I'll take any kind hope I can get. As long as she's alive, even if it's risky like this, I'll be happy."

Qrow knew that there was probably no way the power of silver eyes would be in this world, but who honestly knew. Besides, he also knew that people needed all the hope they could get, even if he himself has mostly given up on the notion of hope..

"It's also genetic. Either of your parents had silver eyes?" Qrow asks

"Well, my mom did. I got my dad's eyes, but we both have his hair color. … Hmm, they were both great people. My mom was a good fighter too." He said fondly. “But when the Scrawl started to take over her, she had weird dreams. She said she saw weird but huge rectangular structures that went high into the sky, and things that moved on wheels at unnatural speeds."

"It sounds like she saw a city. Maybe one from before whatever happened that made this world like this." Qrow commented as he and Kainé slashed away at a huge shade.

"She also… she also had nightmares. In them, she fought these pale white beasts with glowing red eyes she said she fought them with incredible powers, powers like Emil's…" Nier had never really connected the dots before. It was just something he had never considered, always too busy with other things to reminisce about his mother like this.

…

No response. It was quiet.

"Huh?" He said in confusion as he looked around. Kainé and Qrow were gone. "Emil! Get close to me!"

"Huh? What?! Where'd they go?!" Emil questioned as he noticed the disappearance of his friends.

"It could be a shade, one with powers previously unknown to us. We should stay close to each other." Weiss advised.

"Right!" Emil nodded. Cautiously, they circled about, looking all over to see if they could spot anything unusual, and fending off the few shades that remained on the floor..

"I can sense some strong magic nearby, but I cannot pinpoint where. Can you two here us!" Emil shouted out.

"Perhaps w─" Weiss's words were interrupted by a sudden crash that caused the floor to give way beneath Nier.

"I got you!" Emil said as he lunged for. Nier. But, his efforts were for naught. He too was mysteriously swept away by a shadow. Thinking fast, Nier stabbed his sword into the wall to slow his fall.

“What kind of shade is that?! What did it do to them?!” he shouted as he landed.

“We are in the presence of a powerful shade, one capable of using incredible magic. They’re still alive, I know that much. If we kill it, it’s magic should be undone!” Weiss replied.

“All we have to do is find it then.” Easier said than done, but, it would be done.

Silently, they were back to back, waiting in anticipation for an attack. Nier was tense, ready to pounce at the vile shade. Weiss readied a sealed verse, taut and set to pin down the enemy for the kill. Nier looked up, left, right, everywhere he could look, except for below himself, where his own shadow betrayed him.

-

With heavy breathing, Qrow opened his eyes to be surrounded by darkness. It wasn’t the darkness of a moonless night in the middle of nowhere. That did not even compare. This was an advanced darkness very few things in the world could compare to. In front of him lay an unknowing expanse, a field of nothingness, a─

“Turn around, dumbass.”

“Huh? Oh.” Qrow sighed as he stopped flailing about. There was Kainé and Emil. She was lulling about as Emil did… something magic related. They all floated in the void, but were otherwise perfectly fine.

“Make yourself comfortable, or whatever. Emil will get us out soon enough. I swear to hell I’m gonna tear the little shit stain that did this to fucking shreds.” she hissed.

“I take it this isn't a thing that happens everyday?”

“No.” Emil answers as he fiddles with a glyph. “The craziest things tend to be giant, monstrous shades every now and then. But we always take care of them!”

“Yeah, we take real good care of them, don't we, sunshine?” a cold, cruel, and sharp voice says from the unknown. Qrow knows that this voice is dangerous. He can sense it, so he held Harbinger out, prepared to strike. Emil notices the voice too, and hurries with his magic. Kainé is unphased, and rolls her eyes at the remark

“Show yourself!” Qrow shouted into the void. For a moment, he thinks it is the monster that captured them.

“Hmm? Ooh, they can hear me. Finally! Do you know how boring it can get just talking to one person? Real fucking boring.”

“Ugh, do you ever shut up? Like really? I could cut your tongue out and you’d still find a way to talk more than anyone else.” Kainé complains. But, she is justified in her grievance. “Hm? Oh. That’s just the shade that lives in me. Just ignore his bitchass.”

“Hello mister shade!” Emil greets innocently.

“You’re supposed to tell this one to fuck off, Emil.”

“Oh. Okay. Fuck off mister shade!” he corrects, and resumes his work.

“Adorable.” Tyrann deadpans. “So, dear black bird. What sort of atrocities are there in your home. I’d kill to know.”

“There’s the kinds of things that would kill you first.” he retorts. Qrow didn’t like this thing. If this was the standard for shades, then it was a good thing they were being slaughtered.

“Fat chance, but that sounds like my kind of place. Tell me, is the death slow and painful?” Qrow is disgusted as the thing laughs.

“You get used to it after a while.” Kainé shrugs. Before Qrow can respond, they’re on the roof, where Grimoire Weiss also is.

“It worked!” Emil triumphantly shouts

“GAH! Don't sneak up on me like that! You’re all fortunate I can’t get a heart attack!” Weiss berated.

“Where’s Nier?” Kainé demanded.

“Beyond this door, but, it is blocked by a magical barrier. If we all focus our attack on it, we should be able to break it.” Weiss explained, and on the count of three, magic assaulted the door Nier was behind, breaking it and the barrier. They could see the shadow descending down onto Nier.

“YOU WILL DIE YOU FILTHY BROTHER KILLER!” it screamed.

Thankfully, Emil was quick enough to cast a protective barrier around him. It floated in place as it attempted to break the barrier. Quickly, Qrow rushed at the thing, except he could see that it wasn’t exactly just anything. It was Hazel, possessed by a shade? Qrow had a million and one questions, but he had no time for them. He kicked the monstrous man and fired a bullet to his chest. He knew it wouldn’t be enough to take Hazel out, but it was enough to send him flying, flying back into the shadows.

“We’re not too late, are we?” Emil wondered.

“Nope. Just in time.” Nier responded gratefully as Qrow helped him up.

“Hold your conversing for later. More pressing issues are at hand.” Weiss reminded them as he floated back over to Nier.

“Right. Let’s just stay close together.” Qrow ordered. “He can't take us all on at once.”

With great tenseness, they all cautiously made their way out of the shrine. They eyed every shadow they passed, and relied mostly on ranged attacks to dispatch any brave shades that dared to attack. Only when they finally left the shrine and onto the boat did they all begin to feel safe, all but Qrow. Something wasn't sitting right with him, and it wasn't just Hazel appearing. He couldn't make a sound conclusion yet, but he knew he would in time

-

“That guy, he was possessed too, but it was different somehow.” Kainé revealed.

“I have some information that might help make sense of things. We should try to settle down first though.” Qrow suggested.

“Agreed.” Weiss concurred. “It has been a long day, and we’ll be much safer in the sunlight and the open field.”

With that, resident expert campers Kainé and Emil decided on a good spot to set up on. While Emil got the fire ready, which didn't take long thanks to magic, Kainé reaped some fresh mutton. Before long, a fresh meal was served. It was plain, of course, but it was warm, edible food, that didn't taste like an abomination, which Nier was particularly grateful for.

“Old timer,” Kainé began as she bit into a piece of meat, “what were you gonna say about that possessed guy?”

“He’s from your world, isn’t he?” Weiss guessed. Qrow nodded his head yes, and swallowed a bite.

“Hazel. He works for the woman that controls the monsters of my world. I’m sure that at least one of his goals is to get in the way of my mission.” Qrow said with annoyance. But, if anything, he expected Hazel or someone to show up sooner and pose a problem.

“Why would he focus on me then?” Nier wondered. “It’d make more sense for him to target you then.”

“Maybe it was the shade that possessed him?” Emil Suggested.

“Could be. It looked like the shade in him had a lot of control.” Kainé answered. She remembered how the massive fiend was covered almost head to toe in the shade pattern. Filthy brother killer, huh? Sounds like someone was having a lot of fun before we even came along. A man after your own heart, ey sunshine?

“But…” she continued, “he didn’t exactly seem out of control either.”

“Now that I think about it, the eyes seemed familiar. Remember those stone guardians that imprisoned you, Weiss?”

“Not fondly. It was hardly how a Grimoire such as myself should be greeted.” Weiss complained. “But, yes, why?”

“Remember that one of them had glowing red eyes? His had that glow to them.”

“I see now. My former wardens were siblings, and it appears as if one of them survived our initial attack and wants revenge.”

“And that would be a cause Hazel would sympathize with. I could be that they're in sync, rather than one of them being in control.” Qrow murmured as the gears in his head turned. Shades and Grimm appeared to have some similarities, so perhaps Salem had taken interest in that. After all, what better way to learn about the monsters than to become one?

"There's just one problem though, why would a shade have a brother? Shades don't have family." Emil reminded them.

"Just as I am a product of ancient magic that is unknown today, perhaps they are too. They may very well just be a special case of rare, ancient magic influencing an archaic pair of shades." Weiss reasoned.

Wanna tell them the truth? I wanna see the looks on their faces when they realize just what they've been killing! Ha ha haa!

"Doesn't matter. They're our enemy now." Kainé tells them firmly.

"Right. It doesn't matter what kind of shade they are. They're still a shade, and we have to kill them before they kill us." Nier affirmed after taking one last bite and letting out a long yawn.

"... You three get some sleep. Me and the book,"

"Grimoire Weiss." he interrupted to correct.

"Me and little Weissy Weiss here will keep watch." Qrow taunted. Qrow had to say he felt proud of himself when he saw the grimoire's reaction. It was like ruffling up an Atlesian, which always made him feel better.

"Oh joy. Another bane to my existence." Weiss commented sarcastically.

"Will you shut the fuck up already. We’re trying to sleep." Kainé

"And when you want some sleep, let me know. Don't feel bad or anything either. I hardly even need any sleep." Emil directed at Qrow.

"Sure thing." he answered.

As the hours progressed, Qrow and Weiss managed to turn civil with one another as Qrow sipped out of his flask every now and then. From Weiss, Qrow learned that blood and words were the focuses of the grimoire's magic. Blood was the physical component of the magic, and words were where the power resided. Although, the words used were a mystery much like the script that occasionally accompanied it.

In turn, Qrow shared the scant information he knew about magic. The most common magic of his world was elemental, the magic that belonged to the maidens. Then there was Oz. His powers included the elements as well. A simple way to understand the rest of his magic was that it concerned energy, the flow, transfer, and magnitude of it. A specific portion of that ability was given to him and his sister to aid them in their little parlor trick. Upon their deaths, that power would return to him.

And then there was the depraved woman known as Salem. The full extent of her powers was unknown to him. Power over the Grimm was an obvious magic of hers. He imagined her abilities included the elements as well, since it seemed to be a common magic. Beyond that, he could only guess with uncertainty.

“So, what about the magic that made you a book? I doubt you were always a grimoire.”

“Truth be told, I do not know if I ever was anyone or anything else. The best theory I have is that it involves humans of the old world. But, for what purpose I was intended to serve or how exactly I came to be, it is all hardly of any importance now.”

“Now?” Qrow wondered. The book looked around to make sure the kids were truly asleep.

“When Nier beat me out of my slumber, I only had my knowledge, no memories to speak of. Without him and my memories, I still could have done as I so pleased, but I did not because I couldn’t just let him end up hurt. And then it just so happened that our goals aligned. And then came the Shadowlord and Grimoire Noir. They almost succeeded in using me for what I can only assume was my purpose, but I eventually came to my senses thanks to a certain foul mouth. I didn’t want to leave them, you see.”

“Well aren’t you a big softie?” Qrow teased. He had a feeling the book would have rolled his eyes if he could have.

“You are a menace, second only to Kainé. But, I suppose I am. She is much the same. Therefore, I imagine you are much the same, hmm?” the grimoire accused.

“... I guess so.” Qrow admitted. “Can’t say it always feels good.”

“I imagine so.” The book commented as the man took the last drink of his canteen. “While it has been nice talking to someone who isn’t a moody teen, I’m sure you need some sleep.”

“Yeah. Some sleep sounds good.” He said as he gently awoke Emil, and took his place to rest for the “night.”

-

“So, where to next?” Qrow asked as he served himself a piece of mutton seasoned with nearby herbs courtesy of Emil.

“Back to the village. That was the best lead I had, and nothing came out of it. So I’ll have to see if Devola and Popola have any new information for me.” Nier answered.

“Me and Emil will be around then. See you two in a bit.”

“You two aren’t gonna go with us?” Qrow wondered.

“Yeah, the shitfaced villagers don’t really like us.” Kainé answered.

“So?”

“Devola and Popola thought it would be best if we stayed away so we didn’t scare them or anything.” Emil replied sadly.

“What? Do they own the place.”

“No, they do not, but─” Weiss was about to explain before being cut off.

“Who cares then. Come on Kainé, I never took you as someone who followed the rules like that stick in the mud over there.” Qrow taunted, referring to the book in the air.

“Alright then. Emil, we’re going to get in that dumbass village.” she said with finality.

“But what about the guards?” he asked, tilting his head.

“Hmm… Remember what I said about making people feel sorry?” she questioned him with a sinister smile.

“I do not like that look, hussy.”

“Fuck you.” she spat at the book and turned to Qrow. “And we have just the perfect prop.”

-

Two guards are stationed atop the gate see Nier and his friends rush to the gate. It’s difficult to tell, but one of the two outsides appeared to be holding a blob of black in their hands.

“Oh god it’s them again.” says one.

“What do we do? Popola said they wouldn’t be a problem.” said the other.

“Okay, let’s just remind them. Maybe they forgot.” guard A suggested doubtful they indeed forgot.

“Did you forget they have magic?!” guard B shouted quietly and fearfully as they neared.

“Shit.”

“Hey! You gotta let us in!” Nier shouted.

“Please, we have to help this poor bird!” Emil begged as the black bird twitched in his boney hands.

“I just couldn’t leave it to die at the hands of a shade,” Kainé began innocently, “Just like when I saved you two from that giant shade.” Her voice had added just a bit of edge to it, enough for the guards to feel the weight of her words.

“Or like when I helped fight the Shadowlord when everyone else ran away! Or when Kainé saved Yonah when no one else could!” Emil added.

“Won’t you please let us in? All so we can help this poor little birdy here?” At that moment, the crow let out a wheeze of a caw. The guards could not still help but feel somewhat threatened. But, despite this, they conceded.

“Fine. Just… neh. Nevermind.” One said with defeat.

“Thank you so very much.” Kainé smiled.

“Yeah, thank you mister guards!” Emil thanked genuinely. “Don’t you worry little birdy, we’ll fix you up in no time.” he cooed.

“Thanks guys!” Nier waved as they passed through the gate. They all tried to hide their giggling as they made their way to nier’s home.

“Well, that went better than I imagined.” Weiss admitted. “And here I thought you were going to directly threaten them.”

“That was plan B.” Kainé told him.

“Of course it was.” he deadpanned.

“Cheer up. You guys’ll finally, really meet Yonah. She’s always wanted to thank you two properly.” Nier told them.

“Oh I’m so excited! Should we surprise her?” Emil suggested.

“Umm, probably not. She’ll probably faint. Okay, just wait here for a moment.” He said as they got to the front of the home, and he quickly went inside. After making sure none of the villagers were looking, Qrow turned back into his human form.

“Excited?” he asked the two.

“Eh, sure.” Kainé shrugged with nonchalance. But, she could not hide her smile.

“I am! Do you think she remembers what we looked like? Does my scarf look alright? I want to make a good impression.” Emil worried.

“I don’t really think she’ll care about that, kid. But,” he began as he fixed the green scarf, “it looks fine.”

“Alright come on in.” Nier said nervously. “Sorry if it looks messy, I tried to clean up a little but,”

“I’m so happy you’re all here!” Yonah shouted, interrupting her brother. “It’s nice to finally get the chance to talk with you two!” she said to Emil and Kainé.

“It’s nice to officially meet you Yonah.” Emil greeted.

“Yeah. If Nier’s not gonna shut up about you, we might as well meet you.” Kainé reasoned.

“And it’s nice to meet you too, mister Qrow. I’m glad Nier has another friend for me to meet!”

“No problem kid. It’s nice to meet you too.” he replied. She was an adorable little thing, reminding him of Ruby with her bubbly demeanor. It was also obvious she was her brother’s kid sister. They had that same white hair, and a similar facial structure. And now that he could see her eyes, they were indeed silver. But, it was likely that didn’t mean anything.

“Do you guys want a drink or anything?” Nier offered.

“How about I make them something! Nier says I make great food!” she beamed. Behind her, her brother’s eyes went wide with fear, an emotion any of them had rarely seen.

“No! I’ll buy something!” he quickly interjected. “It’s a special day. We should buy them some food from the village. You guys’ll like that, right?” he said as if it were a plea.

“Sure.” Kainé said indifferently. While she had heard of Yonah’s atrocious cooking, she wasn’t a wimp and would have taken some of her cooking just fine. But, she figured Nier could use a break.

“I’m fine with that.” Emil answered. While he too had heard of her cooking, he doubt he would have minded it anymore.

“... I’ll try some of your cooking.” Qrow told her. If Nier’s reaction was anything to go by, it was a very bad decision. But, he couldn’t stand to see her face droop down a little, even if it meant suffering a single poor meal. He was sure it couldn’t be that bad though.

“I’ll go to the market real quick then.” Nier said as he made his way to the door.

“Or, how about you let me and the grimoire go. You kids should stay here and have some fun.” Qrow suggested.

“By my word he can think! We’ll be back soon then. Don’t tear the house down.” Weiss quickly agreed before Nier could say no.

“No promises Weissy!” Yonah shouted as she waved a quick goodbye.

“Yeah Weissy, no promises.” Kainé teased. Once outside, they could hear the lively and joyful commotion as it just barely escaped the walls.

“A rare moment of peace and quiet, I must thank you for that at least.” Weiss thanked.

“I just didn’t want them to think I’d run with the money.” Qrow reasoned.

“Believe it or not, they’re rather trusting.”

“And it hasn’t come back to bite you yet?”

“No, surprisingly. Though I suppose that should be cause for concern. Well, there’s nothing we can do about it now.” Weiss dismissed as they passed the fountain, absent of Devola for once.

“Well, did you notice anything odd about the back of the building as we climbed up it?”

“Hmm… I can’t say that I do. All looked as a rock face should.”

“Even with the ladders and wooden planks?”

“Well of course! How else─ Ooh, I see! Based on the location, it all should have rotted or rusted away.” Weiss finally realized.

“But it wasn’t.”

“Begging the question of who set it there for us…”

“Any idea who that might be?” Qrow asked.

“Well, Popola said it was near a trade route, so it’s possible traders built it.”

“But why would they?” Qrow asked.

“Why indeed. There was no other activity in the shrine save for us and the shades. My, this is a most concerning conundrum.” Weiss worried. “But, a small break from that is in order. The market awaits us, and I doubt you know what they want.”

“And that is also what I brought you for. See, I can think.”

“Indeed you can.” Weiss replied. All in all, the book was rather surprised by the man. He was much more capable and intelligent than he looked or let on.

After gathering a few items, some healthy fruits, a few vegetables, some juice, and a bit of seasoned meat, they began to make their way back to the small home.

“So, any idea on who could set you all up?” Qrow asked.

“If someone is in fact steering us onto a path of their creation, I do not know who it could be. Such a person, or group, would have to have quite the amount of resources and power to do so, as I imagine they would have been doing so for some time.” Weiss answered.

“Yeah, there is the chance it could just be some odd coincidence or some rare natural phenomenon that preserved the metal and wood. But still, I’ve got a feeling something’s up.” Qrow reasoned. His instincts tended to be rather good after a lifetime of honing them.

“As do I. But, I believe we should not mention this to Nier and them. They’re all stressed enough as is, and this may not even be a real concern.” Weiss suggested. His unparalleled wisdom told him it would not be a bad idea to suspect some foul play.

“If you say so. In the meantime, I’ll be doing a bit of recon. Hold these.” he said as he handed Weiss the groceries, placing them in a magical hand.

“Such a waste of my talents.” he huffed. “But if you could, give Popola a visit at the library on the hill? Tell her what happened and see if she has any new information would you?” he requested.

“Consider it done Weissy.” Qrow taunted.

“I will enjoy seeing you eat the lass’s cooking.” he said ominously before Qrow left and he reentered the home.

-

After scanning the town for half an hour, Qrow had found nothing of interest, save for a shiny coin. He was sure it likely wasn’t worth much though. He then made his way to the library at the top of the hill. Once inside, he could see that it was a rather small library, but all things considered, impressive. A number of patrons were scanning the walls of their contents. He asked one of them to point him to Popola, and told him where she was.

Just as he stepped onto the stairs, he could have sworn he saw Ironwood. He looked back for a moment, and saw that no one was looking at the books by the stairs. Children’s books, by the looks of it. Qrow laughed at his mind playing such a trick on him. Qrow had no affinity for men like him, but, Ironwood was not a bad man. Not exactly a good one either but the same could be said for many. At the very least, he was easy on the eyes and a decent drinking buddy, and very fun to rile up.

After knocking on the door and waiting for an answer, he entered when Popola told him to come in. In there were two women, twins by the looks of it. The main difference was their auburn hair, more red than brown though. One had slightly messy hair, with it jutting out in some places, while the other’s was perfectly straight.

“Hmm? You’re a new face. I was kinda expecting Nier.” said the one with messy hair to her sister.

“I’m Popola, and this is my sister Devola. Is there anything we can help you with?” The twin at the desk asked.

“Yeah, I’m a friend of Nier’s.”

“Oh, is that so? I’m glad then.” Devola said.

“He needs all the help he can get. So, what was it you needed?” Popola added.

The two seemed innocent enough, but Qrow could just feel that something was up with them. Though, he could not tell if it was something good or bad. Time would tell.

“Nier’s with Yonah right now, so he wanted me to pass on some info.” He began. He went through the gist of what happened at the shrine, to the possessed human. Though, he left out the info about he and Hazel being from another world. Around these two, he wanted to feel secure and revealed as little about him and his situation as possible.

“I see. That is concerning.” Popola commented.

“The shades are becoming more and more brazen, huh?” Devola commented as she lounged on the couch.

“Any idea why?” he asked them.

“Their leader is the Shadowlord. Whatever the reason, its because of him. I’m surprised he hasn’t told you yet.” Devola responded nonchalantly.

“I’m sorry, but was that all? We were kinda in the middle of something.” Popola explained. Qrow wondered what exactly they were in the middle of, but knew he couldn’t just pry like that.

“Yeah. Nier wanted to know if you came across any new leads.”

“Yes actually.” she responded happily. She opened a drawer and pulled out a piece of paper and an oddly shaped piece of stone. “This is a part of the key to the Shadowlord’s castle.” she said as she handed him the paper and key piece. The Stone Guardian, Sacrifice, The Law of Robotics, Memory Tree, and Loyal Cerberus.

“We’re not sure what Sacrifice and Loyal Cerberus are referring to, but its likely that The Stone Guardian piece was somehow connected to Gretel at the shrine.” Devola began.

“The Law of Robotics likely concerns the junk heap, and Memory Tree may have something to do with the Forest of Myth.” Popola finished.

“Alright then, Thanks ladies. I’ll be sure to give him this stuff.” Qrow waved goodbye as he walked out.

“Of course. Take care now.” Popola said.

“Yeah, and make sure Nier stays safe, will you?” Devola requested with undeniable concern. Of course, he agreed to.

As he closed the door, Qrow wondered just how they knew the shade at the shrine had a name. That was most concerning and suspect. Just how they came into the possessions of the items was a suspicious mystery too. Not only that, why just ask to keep Nier safe? What about his friends? He may not have been as capable as them, very few likely were, but there was no doubt they could be hurt too.

And then the Shadowlord. Qrow thought he must be somewhat like Salem, a manipulator of shadowy beasts. It was safer to assume he was intelligent, and leading those kids down some path of his creation. But why? And there was still the concern of who was helping him, if there was anyone.

By the time he made it back to the house, his mind was running through the possibilities. He was glad he could run them by the grimoire. While somewhat annoying, he was no doubt wise and smart. Though, he was snapped out of his thoughts by a terrifying smell.

“Brothers, what is ─”

“You’re back!” Yonah exclaimed, holding out a pot of… something. He wondered how she made it an unnatural looking bright blue. He doubted she had food dye.

“Just in time for your dinner, it seems.” Weiss snickered. Qrow gulped.

“Looks… interesting.” He commented with a smile. He reminded himself he was doing this to make a sickly little girl happy.

“It’s an awesome color isn’t it? I wonder if I could get Sebastian to make something as cool looking as that.” Emil said.

“Not unless─” Weiss said as he was cut off by a jab to his spine and a dirty look from Nier.

“I guess I’ll try some. I doubt it would taste bad to me.” Kainé said.

“Not that it ever tastes bad!” Nier affirmed intensely.

“I’ll try some too then! Can’t let Mister Qrow have it all for himself. I think it smells good anyways, so that means it’ll taste good.” Emil said as a bowl was set before him. Next was Kainé, and finally Qrow.

“Are you sure you don’t want any, Nier? I made a lot more than I meant to.” she told him.

“Oh, no, I’m fine. I already ate a lot.” he reasoned. He was thankful she didn’t press any further.

“Okay, on the count of three, all of you take a sip!” she adorably ordered. “One… Two… Three!”

Each of them took down some of the soup. Nier covered his eyes as he did so, and prayed they would all act fine. When he didn’t hear anyone gag, he uncovered them to see the trio gulping down the soup.

“This is good.” Kainé said in between gulps.

“My word, this is the quietest I’ve ever seen her! … See! The hussy didn’t even bark back at me! What kind of enchantments do you use young Yonah? I must know!” Weiss insisted as he moved about in grimoire fashion. It made her giggle.

“It’s my secret!” she joked.

“It’s sweet and salty, with a bit of bitterness to even it out.” Emil explained. “I really like it.”

“I love it.” Qrow said as he savored it. There was definitely some alcohol in this, weak, but alcohol nonetheless. Just how she got some in there, he did not know. He wasn't going to complain or question it though. “Pour some in here for me, will you kid?” he said as he offered her his empty flask. The soup, if it could be called that, wasn’t anything strong, but it was free, and the best kind of booze is free booze.

“Of course mister!” she replied gleefully. Internally, Qrow laughed that he would get a refill from such a situation.

“Hmm… I guess I could try some.” Nier said after contemplating grabbing a spoon.

“Hey! Back off, or else!” Kainé threatened as he went for her bowl. Cautiously, he backed away.

“You can have some of mine.” Emil offered.

As Nier took a spoonful out of Emil’s bowl, he inspected it nervously. It did not smell good to him, and was beginning to regret his decision. But, Yonah was watching, so there was no backing away. Quickly, he took the spoon into his mouth. It was terrible. Either they were good liars, or they somehow all actually enjoyed it. Quickly, he swallowed it.

“That was… Great!” he tried to say with enthusiasm.

“I’m glad you like it! Here, have a bowl!” She said as she slid him a bowl.

“Oh no, I’m still to full Yonah, I─”

“Mine now.” Kainé announced as she stole the bowl and began to wolf it down. Qrow chuckled.

“More please!” Emil asked as he held out his bowl.

“Fill me up again, yeah?” Qrow asked as he offered his half empty bowl. Happily, she refilled both of their bowls.

“I’m so glad you all liked it!” she said, smiling brighter than the sun.

It made Nier the happiest among the group. Despite everything, she wanted to help, so seeing her actually able to do that made him feel a warm feeling he hadn’t felt in some time. She proudly placed the pot back on the stove and resumed eating her meal from earlier.

“Hey, you’re not gonna eat any?” Kainé questioned, hoping she wasn’t taking any food away from the little girl.

“Oh, no. It tastes terrible to me. Devola said that it’s because I have weird taste buds.” She answered cordially as she reheated some food from earlier. Nier lamented the fact that he didn’t think of that excuse for himself. Well, he could perhaps use it in the future, blame it on puberty or something if he had to.

-

After a day of rest in the home, the group decided to leave for the Junk Heap. Yonah begged for them to stay just a little longer, but Nier was quick to say he needed to take care of things. As she deflated, he was even quicker to remind her that they all had such a fun time together, and that they would do it again soon enough.

“So, what’s the junk heap like?” Qrow asked aloud.

“It’s in the name. It’s a heap of junk, duh.” Kainé sassed.

“To be precise, it’s a place filled to the brim with junk from the old world, before it regressed to become what it is now.” Weiss explained.

“There are a lot of machines there. They’re a mix of technology and magic. The world sure had a lot of power and knowledge back in the day.” Emil reminisced sadly.

“Well, the machines still break against our weapons, so the old world couldn’t have been that powerful if you ask me.” Nier added.

“Power alone only does so much. Still, let’s just hope we don’t have to spend more time than we need to. But, based on what your friends said, I’m thinking the piece might be tied to a specific machine. And that, might take some time.” Qrow lamented.

He had already learned some nice info about magic from Weiss, but it wasn’t enough to feel satisfactory. He doubted a place filled with machines would reveal much to him, even if they also were part magic. However, he was glad he was able to help these kids. That was a goal he came to value more than he originally thought he would.

When they made it to the entrance to the heap, Nier made one stop at the brother’s weaponsmith to see about upgrading Beastcurse. He left Emil, Qrow, and Kainé outside longer than he anticipated. Weiss expected some sort of verbal spat when he joined them back outside. To his surprise, the two were formally sparring, with Emil as their referee.

Kainé was strong and quick with her swords, but Qrow still surpassed her. Serrated blades screeched against the sword Harbinger. Weiss could see that it was a well crafted weapon. Their back and forth was a sight to behold, though Weiss was sure Kainé could beat him if she used her magic. With a skillful parry, Kainé was sent skidding back.

“You’re a pretty good fighter, no surprise there, but you could still use some more experience.” he told her.

“Experience this!” she yelled as she rushed at him. Once they met, a volley of exchanges could be heard echoing.

“Get his ass Kainé!” Emil cheered. So much for a clinical ref.

“You got him now Kainé!” Nier assured.

“Show that hussy the might of incomparable wisdom!” Weiss cheered on Qrow. Someone had to.

In one swift motion he kicked her away. And almost as if by magic, the blade transformed into a scythe before their eyes. Kainé, however, did not notice, and sped back to him for another assault. That was her error. The scythe hooked the blades out of her hands by their chain, and a low kick felled her to the ground.

“Like I said earlier, power alone only does so much.” He told her as he held out a hand to help her up. Rolling her eyes, she took the help.

“Yeah, whatever.” she said.

“Your weapon, how did it do that?” Nier wondered as Qrow handed Kainé back her swords.

“Huh, wait, when the fuck did that happen?” Kainé exclaimed as she noticed Harbinger’s new form.

“That?” he said as it transformed back into a sword. “In my world, this kind of thing is commonplace. Its just a series of gears and stuff. Nothing special.” he replied dismissively. “... Well, no. It is kinda special.” His weapon was a rather unique one, even among the many huntsmen of Remnant.

“Impressive indeed, but our fun has been had. We have a new clue on the Law of Robotics. There is a machine that has partnered with a shade. If there is anything that is our target, that must be it.” Weiss announced.

“Don't be such a stick in the mud, book. The fun doesn’t even have to end, you know.” Qrow told him as they made their way into the heap.

“There is such a thing as a time and a place, you know.” Weiss annoyingly reminded him.

“I’d say this is a good time and a place.” Qrow replied. Then, an idea came to him. “For example, this is a good time and place for a bet.”

“... Really? I never would have guessed.” he replied sarcastically. “Please impart your wisdom unto me, Grimoire Weiss, as to how this is the proper setting for what is likely a petty bet?”

“Simple. I bet I can teach beach day over here better than how you can teach big brother here.”

“Pah! Do you truly think a ruffian such as yourself would serve as a better instructor than me? I agree to your little bet. I am sure some humility will do you good, once you lose.”

“Hey! Who said I gave a shit about this?” Kainé protested. “I am not gonna spend some time listening to some old timer telling me how to fight.”

“Here take this then.” Nier said as he held out a large sword with a bird motif. “You can wield two swords like Kainé.”

“Uhh, are you sure? I mean─”

“Yes, it’s fine.” he assured. “I still have the spear and dagger anyways on me anyways. It’s no big deal.”

“If you say so.” he said as he somewhat reluctantly took the sword. Now, he matched Kainé with two swords in hand. Granted, his were larger and heavier and lacked the chains her sword had. Looking at the golden sword, it was rather simple. But, it did have a strong and unique silhouette.

“Good. With that settled, let this one-sided battle begin!” Weiss announced confidently.

“I still haven't agreed to this crap.” Kainé reminded them.

“Don’t worry. I was a combat teacher for a bit, and I was amazing.” Qrow proudly assured.

“Wait, what about me?” Emil asked.

“You’ll be our judge.” Qrow answered him.

“It is an important and honorable task, one I am sure you will perform well in.” Weiss added.

“Yes!” the little mage excitedly nodded. “Don’t you worry, I’ll be a great judge!”

“Ugh…” Kainé sighed as she rolled her eyes. Now she had to do it, for Emil.

“Hey, It’ll be fun, Kainé. If you end up winning, that means you’ll have helped beat Weiss in a bet too.”

“Well, when you put it like that…” she chuckled, a grin spreading across her face.

“It was nice knowing you, Weiss.” Nier said dejectedly.

“And what is that supposed to mean? I will not accept a defeatist attitude!” Weiss yelled affirmatively.

“Let’s show those losers how its done!” Kainé yelled excitedly as a wave of machines approached.

“Now you’re talking my language.” Qrow replied as he swiftly felled some machines in a display of bravado. The other sword, it felt surprisingly good in his hands, almost empowering as if by mysterious magic.

As they progressed, Weiss barked “tips” for Nier to follow. Most of the time, he followed them well. Nier didn’t mind. It was different fighting without Weiss’s magic, as he focused his attention onto studying Nier’s movements and technique, but Nier considered it a good challenge. Plus, it was safer to practice on the machines rather than shades. They had become more and more dangerous, just as he did. The machines remained much the same as they were when he last visited, and the time before that, and the time before that.

As for Qrow, he found that Kainé was difficult to teach, at first. She was a difficult person in general. But, he knew that he was too. In a sense, that made her easier to deal with. Qrow quickly found that she didn’t take well to being told what to do, even if it meant improving her fighting. What she did take well to was being shown what to do without being told to do it. She was someone who learned by observing, which is what he realized after going down the first elevator.

The machines at the lower levels of the Junk Heap were more of a challenge, but still nothing compared to their talent and skill. Dual wielding the large swords, many automatons were easily felled. Qrow had half a mind to take up dual wielding back home. An impressed Kainé followed in his footsteps, turning machines into scrap much more efficiently than before, and without the aid of magic.

However, Qrow’s semblance was starting to act up, and it was eating at him. Nier had tripped and nearly met the electric end of an automaton. And sure, some machines were crushed by falling ceiling tiles, but one even fell near Weiss, almost flattening him.

It was at that point Qrow said they could spit up in their search. To cover more ground. At first, Weiss and Nier wondered if that was a wise move. But, Kainé convinced them, saying that if they ran into the shade and machine, they’d reduce it to smoke and scrap metal easily. Emil also supported her and Qrow, but opted to stay with Nier and Weiss.

Having split up, Qrow was sure less bad things would happen to the people around them. But, it seemed as if his semblance just decided to focus more on him and Kainé. At one point, he fell down one of the bottomless pits, and had to fly out. A few feathers were singed as a result.

Later, in a dead end room, Kainé got body slammed by a machine because she was too preoccupied mangling a P-33. Thankfully, the machine that body slammed her didn’t have its electricity on, for some reason. Regardless, Kainé quickly exacted her furious revenge. After that, Qrow suggested they take a break out in the empty hallway.

“Dammit, what the hell?!” Kainé yelled frustratedly as she kicked the wall. “Why the fuck is today so shitty!” Again, she kicks the wall. “What! The! Fucking! Hell!” Qrow leans against the wall, and she takes a deep breath and joins him for a moment of rest. “Well, at least its not boring today.” Qrow lets out a quick chuckle.

“Sorry.” he apologizes. “Not everyday I hear something good about me.” She could now sense his unease. She looked at him, and saw that he seemed hurt. Well, not hurt, per say. More sad, the kind of sadness that comes from the bitter acceptance of what one perceives as terrible. It was familiar to her.

“So, what’s up with you, then?”

“Would you believe me if I told you I was a curse?” he asked her. She gave a quick laugh in response.

“You’re asking another walking curse that, you know?”

“Oh. For what its worth, I don’t think that shade makes you a curse.” he earnestly told her. After all, you can’t really blame a person if a literal monster inhabits their body against their will. Her sad and bitter laugh surprised him.

“He’s hardly a curse. More of an annoying bitch than anything.”

“That’s not hard to believe.” he scoffed all too knowingly. From what he could infer about the shade’s personality, he was the very sadistic, and very annoying type, He’d come across a few similar people in his work for Oz. In Qrow’s eyes, the only thing that separated such people from Grimm was their intelligence and other desires aside from sadism.

It did not escape Qrow that this meant that some other thing weighed her mind, some other thing that made her mark herself as cursed. He knew better than to pry. If she wasn’t going to say, she didn’t have to. He could respect that. He knew he’d be a hypocrite otherwise. Still, he felt that she at least deserved to know what plagued him, what was plaguing her because of him.

That, and she was still just a kid, an teen hardened by cruel life, but a kid to him nonetheless. If his time teaching had taught him anything about kids, it was that they opened up to adults who took the time to understand and empathize with them. Mr. Branwen, man who had lived through a hell of a youth worse than most, found that he was rather good at getting the kids to open up about their feelings and concerns. It was one of the few things he could say he was proud of about himself.

“I told Emil already, but I guess you should know too. I… ”

“Uhgg. I’m gonna stop you there. These kinds of things are always sob stories.” she told him, rolling her eyes in usual teenage manner. “I fuckin hate sob stories.” she said under her breath. “It doesn’t matter what’s wrong with us. At the end of the day, we’re abominations either way, and we’ve still gotta live on regardless.”

“You’re pretty smart, you know?” Qrow chuckled. He’s sure she had a shitty life too. In an ideal life, kids don’t get that kind of thinking, so young at least. “You still wanna beat that book with me, yeah?” he asked, getting off the wall to stretch.

For a moment, Kainé hesitated. There was just something about him she felt that she could trust. She then noticed the concern, almost hurt yet resigned look on his face because she was taking so long to answer.

“Yeah, definitely.” she quickly confirmed. “But first, can you keep a secret?” she asked.

“Of course. What is it?”

She motioned for him to come closer. Even though it was just them two in the empty hallway, she still felt the need to whisper it. He lowered his head down, and let her whisper her secret to him. He was surprised at first. It was not what he was expecting in the slightest, but it was something he could very personally understand. In return, he shared a “secret” with her too.

He assured her, they were not monsters because of the body they were born with. She was a strong young woman. He told her that he felt much the same once, a long time ago, but assured her she too would overcome it.

Qrow knew he was not an epitome of self-love by any means. Far from it. But, his body was not a source of his self-hate. With an uncontrollable and unfortunate semblance, he was going to love that aspect of himself that he decided on, the part of himself that he could control. That part of himself he did not, would not, hate was a source of solace and comfort.

Qrow knew that Kainé wasn’t just going to love herself overnight, but he had given her some hope. That, she was thankful for. Just knowing that someone like Qrow was kinda like her, was comforting.

Don’t lose your hate so quickly now, sunshine. A weak, sad, pathetic voice told her.

-

While they all lost to Hazel and Gretel at the Junk Heap, they did manage to find the Law of Robotics key piece among some rubble.

But, Emil did later declare Qrow and Kainé the victors of the bet. Nier was ambivalent, but Weiss was absolutely livid, nearly unable to accept defeat. Qrow and Kainé had a lot of fun rubbing it in.

By the time they returned to the village to rest, he had come to accept his loss. Though, he stated that if their bet concerned magic, rather than weaponry, Qrow wouldn't stand a chance. He teased the book, saying he shouldn't be so sure of that.

Although reluctantly, the guards opened the gate on their command. Devola was playing the Song of the Ancients at the fountain this time around, eyes closed and focused on the song. So, it wasn't much of an issue to get past her unnoticed.

Once inside the home, Yonah squeaked with joy that they all returned so soon, and ran to hug her brother.

"It's nice to see you again too Yonah, but take it easy, ok? I don't want you to overexert yourself so much." Nier worried as he hugged her back.

"Ohh, you worry too much!" She scolded.

"He's just concerned, is all. Besides, you've got a good big brother. It's only natural for him to worry." Qrow explained.

"Well…" she sighed, "I guess you're right. I do have a pretty good big brother. I probably shouldn't complain too much. I promise to take it easy today then."

"Thank you Yonah. I heard that Popola managed to find some cards and taught you how to play with them. Maybe you could teach us, and we all could play?" He suggested. A smile beamed from her happy face at the idea.

"Okay! I'll go and find the cards." she announced as she went upstairs.

"I'm gonna go to the store real quick then!" He shouted.

"Alright! Don't take too long!" she shouted back.

"We'll help her look then." Kainé said.

"Sure. Want anything in particular?" He asked.

"No, I'm alright." Emil answered.

"A potato. … Two potatoes." Kainé said after a moment.

"Alright… Two potatoes." Nier said. He was unsure why she would want such a plain food.

"I'll go with you." Qrow offered. "I'm sure you need a break from the book."

"It is a pleasure and honor to be in my presence you know? Honestly, do you think the Grimoire Weiss is as common as a crass paperback?"

"Sure." Nier agreed as the two were walking out the door.

"Have fun, Weissy." Qrow goaded.

As the door closed, Weiss sighed. But, if he were being honest, he wouldn't mind just resting on a nice bookshelf for a moment. Nier was with Qrow, and the other kids were just upstairs where they could cause no trouble. He deserved a little rest, and there likely wouldn't be a better time for quite a while.

So, he found a spot on the nearly empty, but comfortable shelf in the corner near the staircase, and felt himself slowly drift into a calm and relaxed state.

-

"Thanks back there. For talking to Yonah and convincing her for me." Nier said graciously as they entered the shopping district. Truly, he was thankful.

"Eh." he shrugged. "Think nothin of it. Besides, you are a good brother. Trust me, I know what a bad sibling is, and you definitely aren't."

"It doesn't feel like that sometimes…"

"Yeah. It's easy to feel like you're never doing enough. I can promise you though, you're doing all you can, and it is a lot." Qrow assured him.

"Thanks. Again. That means a lot." Talking to Qrow, hearing him reassure him, it felt good, like it was something he needed, but didn't know he needed.

"You're welcome kid. Now come one, we've got some memories to make." He said, and proceeded to trip in front of the women at the fountain. He could hear them giggle. So much for trying to seem cool and stuff.

-

"Well, here are your potatoes." Nier said as he tossed them to her.

"Nice! You don't know how much I've been fucking craving these." She said, and took a bite out of one potato like it was an apple.

Qrow was not a man easily caught off guard. But that, that was shocking, and frankly, revolting.

"What?" she said to a staring Qrow as she took another bite.

"Why??? That's not how you eat them…"

"How the fuck are you supposed to eat 'em then?"

"Cook them?"

"And lose the crunch?"

"Ok my gods… give me those, I'll make fries."

"What the hell are fries?"

That broke Qrow's heart. After all that happened to him, it was not an easy thing to break. He could almost cry. He had to sit for a moment to process this. All the while, Kainé loudly munched on her potato.

"Okay." Qrow said once he recovered. "Just find me the other potato. I promise you will love fries. If you don't I will literally give you Harbinger."

He gave her a confused look. Right.

"My weapon." He clarified. Satisfied with the offer, she tossed him the other potato.

"You really named your weapon? You sleep curled up next to it or something?"

"That reminds me," interjected a refreshed Weiss, "the other blade you are currently in possession of is the Phoenix Sword."

"That's pretty believable." He said as he cut up the large potato. He was glad they bought cooking oil earlier.

"Would you like to hear the story I've collected on it?"

"Sure. Why not."

"Ugh." Kainé groaned. "I'm going upstairs so I'm not bored to fucking death." With that, she joined the others in a game of cards.

So far, Yonah had beaten both Emil and Kainé. Qrow imagines Nier was next to lose, and that Yonah was probably making up rules as they went. He'd figure he'd indulge her and lose later.

"Anyways, let me begin." Weiss said, and told the story.

This is an old story. A beautiful bird with brightly shining feathers lived silently and carefully in the depths of a forest.

One day, a child abandoned as a burden wandered into the depths of the forest. The bird took pity on the starved and sunken child, and pecked off one of its feathers to give to the child. The child brought it back and pleased his relatives, and he was able to live with his family again.

Hearing the story, people barged into the forest one after another, and told the beautiful bird of how poor, how unfortunate and how unrewarded they were. The beautiful bird took pity on them, and gave them one shining feather after another, and when it gave its last feather, the bird’s beautiful body was reduced to a sorry state. However, the ugly bird did not have any regrets.

The ugly bird that lost its feathers was freezing in the cold, and the child from before appeared in front of it. He told it that he was searching for a brightly shining and beautiful bird to repay his debts. The ugly bird was overjoyed, and told the child of its desire. "That was me. Please, would you not keep me warm in your chest?" But the child merely took one glance at the ugly bird and called it a liar, killing it with a huge sword and eating the burnt bird. Afterwards, he continued to search for the beautiful bird.

"... Well, that was something." Qrow commented.

"What were you expecting?" Weiss said accusingly.

"I don't know." Qrow responded defensively. "Ow!" He hissed as some oil splattered onto his hand. "Maybe how it was created, or something about its original owner?"

"Hmph, I imagine your weapon's story isn't to your tastes then."

"It doesn't have a story!" Qrow affirmed.

"Pah! All noteworthy weapons have a story, and yours is no exception!"

"Wait, wait. You're saying that Harbinger, my Harbinger, has a story?"

"Naturally. Do weapons in your world not have stories? Most odd." Weiss said before letting Qrow answer. "I suppose it is my duty to tell you your weapon's story then. So, I implore you to listen and listen well."

In a time not known, there lived an archer with jet black hair who killed, and killed, and killed the allies of the wretched light. The Goddess of Light ordered his death, as he was far too much of a threat for a mere mortal. She sent her greatest warrior to slay him. Equipped with divine magic and a holy armament, he obeyed his Goddess and killed the Hero of Innocent Darkness with his own fiery arrows.

Being an honorable and just soul, he ascended to an afterlife within the light. There, the cruel goddess controlled him as another one of her puppets. In her name, he ended the lives of many valiant souls who sought a world of freedom. Wherever he went, the goddess’s will followed in the form of a fiery arrow. To his dismay, he soon even surpassed the one who killed him, and became her new greatest warrior.

So, when a new living, breathing soul threatened her as he once did, it was this warrior’s duty to dispatch the threat. The threat was a young woman, much younger than he was when he took up arms against the goddess. He announced his arrival with the shining shot of a holy arrow into the air.

The woman… she seemed familiar to him. But, it was no time for distant memories. He had to carry out the will of the Goddess of Light, even if he did not want to. While a magic user, she was unique in how she wielded it. Rather than fight at a range, she fought up close. She lasted much longer than he had in his last fight, but even she too was felled. However, he too succumbed to her efforts. He lay there, burning by fiery arrows once more. In his final moments, he wondered, and feared, what awaited him in the death after death.

“Well, there’s your story. More satisfactory than the Phoenix Sword, hmm?”

“No.” Qrow deadpanned. “In fact, I’m gonna forget it. Well, I’ll forget it soon.” With that, he popped open the flask and downed it. He was hoping to ration it, but in all honesty, he’d rather not have to live with the fact that even his weapon was a sad mess. He was sure the alcoholic “soup” wasn’t going to be strong enough to actually help him forget, but, it was worth a shot.

“Underappreciated as usual.” Weiss sighed to himself.

“You’ll get used to it soon enough.” Qrow joked. “Come one, we’ve got kids to feed.”

Qrow carefully ascended the stairs, as to be sure he wouldn’t drop them. A cautious Kainé scrutinized a fry before taking a bite out of one. Her face lit up and she quickly shoved it into her mouth. The others quickly joined in on the indulgence, enjoying the simple treat as much as their voracious friend.

Nier threw money at him to get some more potatoes, and Yonah begged him to teach her how to make them. He was happy to oblige. It made him happy to see them all so energetic and pleased. He also made the book go with him to the shopping district so they could discuss some important matters.

All in all, Qrow was satisfied in how things were turning out. Sure. things could be better, but they definitely could have been a lot worse. So, this is a win in his book. It seemed odd that he felt so happy in this world, but he knew that he would have to leave this world soon. If anything, he preferred that. That way, he had less of a chance to ruin his time here, or ruin anything else. But, for now, he would enjoy this mission.

-

Qrow woke up feeling groggy, and was hit with a terrible headache. His first thought was that he had gotten stupid drunk before returning to Oz and was paying the price. But, as his senses came back to him, he noticed that he wasn’t at Beacon. He wasn’t sure where he was. He quickly got up and searched for his weapon. It was at the side of the bed he was on, and he quickly shifted it into its scythe form.

Cautiously, he went for the door. He found it odd that his capturers let him hold onto his weapon, but he wasn’t going to complain. Just as he was about to touch the handle to make sure it wasn’t rigged or anything, the door shot open.

“Hello there.” A woman greeted as she blocked the scythe with a suitcase. “Just on time. I was hoping to have a few words with you, if you don’t mind?”

Qrow really wasn’t going to take his chances entertaining this woman, so he figured that the best course of action was flying past her as a bird, which he did. Though, he didn’t get far. He flew straight into another suitcase and fell limp to the ground.

“Thank you Accord.”

“You’re welcome Accord.” cordially replied Accord. She walked over to pick up the knocked out bird, and took measurements and notes as she walked to her destination.

When Qrow awoke, a different woman was in front of him. She was eating some fries, sitting on her comfortable looking bed. She had off white hair, and silver eyes. Qrow shifted back into human form.

“Yonah?”

“Oh Qrow! It is you!” she shouted as she jumped up and pulled him in for a hug. “I almost didn’t believe Accord when she said you’d be here. I’m so glad you’re alright. I’m glad you remembered me too.”

“I’m glad you’re alright too. Couldn’t forget someone like you if I tried. But, uh, mind filling me in on all this?” he requested as she released him from the embrace.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah! I guess Accord didn’t have time to huh? Come and walk with me, and I’ll give you the basics.” she said as she picked up her sword, one with a phoenix motif, and then her fries.

“Still hooked onto those fries, huh?” he asked. He was glad to see a familiar face. It put him at ease. That, and he did not feel or sense any danger in this place. It felt safe. That was a good sign.

“Mmhm.” she said with a mouth full of fries before swallowing them. “I always remembered how to cook them how you taught me. In fact, because of you, this place has fries now.”

Qrow lightly laughed. It was an odd honor to have, but an honor nonetheless.

“So, what exactly is this place?” he asked, still smiling.

“This, is the base of the organization known as The Dragon Guard. Though, dragons are practically extinct in most timelines now. But, we do have Mikey. He’s funny. But anyways, our goal is to defeat god. His goal is to destroy humanity and our creation.”

“And naturally, you guys aren’t gonna let that slide, right?” Qrow stated. Yonah eagerly nodded.

“Yup! I was recruited a couple years ago. Though technically, its been millenia since then.” she said as if it were no big deal. Qrow looked at her, eyes wide with surprise. “It’s actually not that complicated if you want me to explain it.”

“I’m good. My head hurts enough as is.” he complained as he rubbed it.

“Yeah… Accord said that might happen.” Qrow looked at her curiously, almost concerned.

“Did you call for me?” they heard a voice say from behind. He jumped up with a yelp in shock.

“On time, as always. How are you Accord? Come across anything that needs some of my special attention?” Yonah casually asked.

“I’m good, as always.” Accord smiled. “Though, there have been reports of another dangerous interloper. This one wields elemental magic and a bunch of swords. But, I doubt you’ll need to take care of her. She’s in one of the timelines where the Seeds of Destruction activate the goddess.” Qrow wondered what the hell any of that meant.

“Another moment of rest for me then, I guess.” she sighed. “Hey, do we have time to spar real quick?” she asked Accord, who thought for a quick moment.

“Sure. I’ll be sure to set up an arena for you.”

“Thank you Accord. Alright, follow me!” she said as she excitedly led Qrow to what he assumed would be the training area.

They passed many different places on their way. There was a large mess hall, a weapons room Qrow would have to see if he could look at later, a magical test center, and he even saw Mikey. Apparently, the white dragon loved his fries, which he confirmed Yonah made perfectly just as he did. When they finally reached the training room, he was out of breath.

“Here,” she said as she pulled out a seat, “rest for a moment. Do you think you could watch my swordsmanship and critique it? Kainé said you were an amazing teacher.” Her face betrayed her cheerful voice, as a hint of sadness could be seen.

“That, I am. So show me what you’ve got.”

After watching her go toe to toe with an android in black, he could say he was very impressed. Her attacks were quick and precise. Additionally, some damage she took seemed to be shrugged off by her own attacks, as indicated by the health bars on display. As the battle ended with Yonah as the victor, he proudly made her way over to Qrow.

“So, what do you think?” she huffed excitedly.

“I’d say you’re even better than me.” he answered honestly. Time had been kind to her. He hoped it would stay that way. She deserved it.

“Really, you think so?” she asked. Qrow nodded his head to reaffirm. She squealed in joy. “I’m so glad you think so! It means so much to me!” she yanked him in for another hug. It was rough, but he didn’t mind too much.

Just then, they heard the door open, Accord walking in.

“Oh, you’re here early, er, on time, actually. I guess it just feels early.” Yonah said. Sadly.

“Your time’s almost up. The magic that brought you here is strong. We were lucky enough to even be able to intercept it.” Accord neutrally explained. “You know, you’re a singularity. Of sorts.”

“You’re someone who causes timelines to branch and split off. You even made a timeline that survived.” Yonah said happily.

“Yeah, an incredible feat. If I were you though, I wouldn’t feel bad about the ones that didn’t survive. Those ones were gonna fail regardless. But man, you did give me a lot of work, not that I mind though. It provided some nice data. That brings me to this: I’ve temporarily sealed off a majority of your memories from during your time away from your world. You have a choice. You can choose to remember or not. It will be a lot to take in, and you’ll have a nasty headache for a bit. So. what’s your choice, avian interloper?”

“I…” he wasn’t so sure. He had a bad feeling about this. But, something compelled him to choose to remember. It felt like he had a duty to remember. It felt somebody was convincing him it was the right choice. “I want to remember.”

“As you will.” Accord answered, pulling out her large phone. “Alright. Initiate code. MEM-3313.”

She was right when she said the headache would be nasty. But, the memories were worse. So many things made sense, and it was all saddening and terrifying. But, mixed in there, were some good memories, ones people wouldn’t trade for the world. There was little Yonah, so much like Ruby to him. Her, Nier, Kainé, Emil, Halua, Weiss, and Rubrum, were a part of many wonderful memories, memories of a world where he felt normal, even if just for a moment. And there they were, in a few terrible memories too, reminding him of his fears and hatred.

“We have another choice for you. Do you wish to keep your memories?” Accorded asked. “Regardless, I already have the important ones recorded, so don’t let us influence your choice.”

Those memories worth more than the world, weren’t worth more than all the suffering and sadness and betrayal he had witnessed so many times. He could barely handle it.

“Take them… take them all…”

“Are you sure?” Yonah asked this time.

“Kid… I’m sorry. I’m not that strong of a person.”

“You are a strong person, Mister Qrow, just not that kind of strong, and that’s alright.” she sat down to take a seat next to him. “The world is a pretty terrible place. And we can all only take so much. I don’t blame you, okay? Accord, transfer them to me.” Qrow looked at her in shock.

“You’re a good man Qrow. Don’t forget that. I know that someday, you’ll be stronger for the people who need you. I believe in you. You have someone who believes in you. Don’t forget that, okay? You have someone who believes in you.”

Qrow wasn’t sure what to say as she tearfully pulled him in for one last hug. He just noticed that he was crying too. He began to feel sleepy.

“Thank you for so many good memories, Qrow. You helped make those days with my brother and friends possible. …Thank you, and goodbye…”

“Goodbye. . .”

You have someone who believes in you.

#qrow branwen #nier #kaine #grimoire weiss #rwby #18.9k words #okay back to this format #cause its kinda cringe #but lots of fun #and saddness #well its just full of drakenier convolutedness #not full of it persay #but definitely has those elements #also ill someday write a sinoalice/rwby fic so i can have Weiss Grimoire Weiss and snow white interact #The remnant branches #Ash Qrow #fun fact the title is a susumu hirwasaawa refrence. His song Ash Crow is also what inspired Harbinger's story #with the fiery arrow and fleeing and being afraid and all that.

[floosies]

bury a friend: The Story of Noctua

pairing: steve rogers x possessed!oc x mcu!au

summary: there have been sightings of a dark creature who vanishes with night and in the mornings only remains of once living people are found scattered in open fields or forests nearby.

warnings: mentions of abuse, mentions of attempted suicide, violence, gore, cursing, mentions/scenes of sexual nature.

Please read with discretion. 18+ content.

A/N: This is my first attempt at something more dark. It’s been in my brain since hearing some of biilie’s works and quiet frankly I want to venture into new territory. However, I understand the severity of some topics that I will write about. If you or someone you know is in need please look at these resources.

tags: @indecisivedolly​

Part 4: The Seven Wonders (2 of 2)

She wanted to lash out, to drag him into the nearest body of water and drown him. Disrespect was something she had no experienced in so long, it made her burn brightly. Tenebrae wanted to intervene on the matter, but higher powers were unraveling truths to the old being.  There were rules that came along with the new found information, one of most importance, it could not kill the boy. There was a greater purpose for his soul. 

Dreams are often either ones forgotten by morning light or drag one’s soul through hell. This was the latter, she was witnessing a horrible moment of her childhood. Her rabbit was being killed by her cruel step father, who found the poor creature in her small room. Each time she tried to stop it, the scene would become farther from her grasp. She could hear the cries and screams of agony from her younger self. The dream shifted and distorted to a different scene, her first witnessing. The birth of a lamia, who had recently given up her virtue. An older warlock possessed by Tenebrae was the sacrifice. It was a beautiful scene, but the face of the warlock became the face of the boy who’d tried to take her virtue from her when she was a girl. He was burning in the fire pit as she and other lamia’s chanted old latin spells. They danced and laughed as he charred, a true haunting justice. 

Cold sweat covered her face as she awoke, it was still dark out. She couldn’t go back to bed however. The adrenaline from what she had to relive was terrifying her. Taking her robe, she went in search for a library or entertaining room hoping to distract herself from the resurgence of images from the harrowing dream. She was due to preform the seven wonders in a matter of hours. How could she preform if there was any sort of fear in her being, “daughter those were dreams. They cannot hurt you, unless you let them become real for a moment.” She found a room filled with spirits and fine wines from different years. Taking a red wine dated from 1893, she filled a glass to the mid part. There were comfortable seats with crushed velvet upholstery. 

Taking a shaky drink, she narrowed her eyes at the ceiling knowing it was present. “I have to present my gifts on command and you choose this time to remind me that I can make my horrors a reality? How unforgiving,” The being then took the form of an elderly man, “I apologize my daughter. I only remind you as you will need me there for certain things, or am I wrong?” Of course it was correct, to teleport through time required a certain stamina only Tenebrae possessed. “You’re right, but you don’t have to egotistical.” She laughed softly, the elderly man smiled. They were interrupted abruptly though, “this is Stark’s private bar.” It was James.

Bucky saw her sat next to some old man. The old man’s stare made him feel uneasy, “relax. It’s simply Tenebrae morphed into an elderly man for some reason.” He was still unsure of this girl demon or whatever she was. “You should go back to your room,” the elderly man sighed. “I will let you talk to this boy, I have other matters to see to. Call for me when I am need Noctua,” she nodded and it disappeared into a small gust of air. “James, I do hope I don’t frighten you.” She said almost mockingly. “Don’t ever call me that name again. Bucky will do, and i’m not scared of some little girl possessed by some demon.” She finished her wine and stood up, “little girl? I have lived life times in decades. I have seen far greater reaches of life and the afterlife. I am not possessed I was blessed with my gifts because I earned them. Tenebrae is not some demon, Tenebrae saw the creation of all you know that exists today. It even molded the ground you step on. You will respect me, or I will not hesitate to truly show you fear. Bucky.” She snarled his name, walking off to her quarters once more.

He wasn’t just angered, he felt embarrassed. Who did she think she was? She killed people for sport, she lived like a savage before they retrieved her. A little girl with an attitude and some words that rhymed, that was all she was to him. Fear her? He could destroy her if he wanted to. 

A shining sun filled the training room created for, it was quite large and empty. Steve had taken her to it, “do you think this will be good enough for you to display your powers?” She smiled, “of course it will be. Thank you,” he nodded and then those who wanted to view began entering. Tony of course had to see it, “hope I made it in time. Did we start yet?” She looked at Steve, “this is Tony Stark, he-” “I’m the billionaire who created the Avengers-” “He did not create the Avengers, he just complained his way in.” A third person said, “I’m Nick Fury, I formed this group, years ago.” She nodded, “is there anyone else who is coming today?” The men shrugged.

With that, they began. First was telekinesis which was easy to show. The video camera that was recording her suddenly was dragged to her grasp without anyone moving it. Concilium or mind control was also fairly easy, she made Steve do a fox trot with Tony. It was quite amusing. Vitalum Vitalis or the balancing scales of one life with another, was difficult to master, but she had and she proved it by bringing a dead hummingbird back to life. Divination was interesting, “in a room somewhere on the compound is Steve’s compass, in it a picture of his old love. Which room is it in?” A glance at her palm was all it took, “he usually keeps it in his office. You’ve chose to throw me off, it is in the bar room on the third floor.” Tony took his computer pad and showed the compass placed on the table of the bar room. It was impressive.

They had gone through almost all without realizing that Bucky was watching. Pyrokensis was interesting, he watched as she set half the room on fire in the shape of a swan. He listened as they reached the final wonder, “transmutation?” She nodded, “it’s teleportation really. Watch,” she suddenly disappeared. “Hi Bucky,” he screamed punching the wall behind him, but she was gone. Now she was in front of Steve laughing. Fury rolled his eyes, “okay you had your fun, but now show us the teleportation between realms, time, and alternate universes.” She became serious again.

The air grew cold for a moment, the entity was now in the room. “This is Tenebrae, it gave me the ability to travel through all those different dimensions. It must help me-” “you mean possess you?” Bucky scoffed, “yes actually. It is the only way I’ll remain conscious through the travel.” Fury nodded, “can you take someone with you?” She never had, “I- i’m not sure.” The being spoke then, “she can. My strength allows me to take many-” “just one, to assure this is true.” Reading Steve’s mind, she found him actually afraid to do it. “Stark?” He shook his head, “sorry it’s a risk I’m not willing to take. My will is still being rewritten.” Bucky rolled his eyes, “i’ll do it. To prove it’s a hoax.” A thunderous laugh echoed through the room. 

It was simple really, one artifact from the past, as well as alternate pasts/futures., and something to prove she went to a different realm. Tenebrae waited for it’s daughter to signal for it to begin the take over. She warned them first, “it isn’t pretty. You may want to look away.” Bucky thought she was lying, but then she began to contort. Her eyes were pitch black for a moment, he had never seen the human body twist and turn in such horrifying ways. He couldn’t look away, she was in mid-air, bones cracking, and eyes still filled with black. Then she wasn’t, her pupils went from gold to olive green. “Let’s go, you can all look now.” She grabbed his hand in hers, “we’ll be back!” That was the last thing she said before they traveled to a different time.

A home, a small house with vintage- these were not vintage. He looked down, the floor was checkerboard and he was wearing a suit. She had on a mini dress, this was the sixties, something felt off though. “Who’s home is this?” She didn’t answer, instead she led him to the front door where a newspaper was waiting to picked up. it read 1967 and John F. Kennedy was on his second term, civil rights movements were dying down as he’d made good work of ending the segregation era of the nation. Charles Manson had been arrested for his cult, this was the alternate future. The one where the good guys lived. Before he could get a second to enjoy it, they were gone. 

It all looked like the present except for the way some words were written. She lead him to a magazine, the date read 2058, they were two decades into the future. This future had no mention of the avengers or heroes. “What’s going on?” She looked at him, “in this universe heroes never existed. There was never a need for them. Everything was resolved without the creation or need for them. They hide their powers or are allowed to exist as is and use their powers as a way of earning wage.” Again as she said that, they were else where.

He was wearing a leather coat with fringe and denim jeans. She was dressed in a long white dress and sandals. “This is our 1970s, ya know with the super heroes and all that.” He followed her through someone’s garden, “Stephanie!” He heard her call out, and then a blonde woman appeared from the house, “little owl, you’ve come back.” The two met in a hug, “this is my friend Bucky, he’s a vet.” The blonde woman nodded leading them inside the home. They drank tea and she sang to them, her husband playing the guitar. He hadn’t even noticed that she’d disappeared for a moment. She apologized for them having to leave so soon, but thanked her friend for the kind welcome.

Their own future. He knew it was theirs because Tony was on a billboard and people recognized him. She bought coffee’s for them and kept the receipt knowing it had the date and with that they left. He couldn’t believe it was real, that he was experiencing this. The last stop was this odd planet with odd fruit, she grabbed one quickly and sent them to present.

Once in their present she dropped all the proof on the ground and ran to the back of the room. He went after her, “please stay back.” Her voice sounded pained. Soon the contortions and black pools of nothingness came back. It was leaving her, he felt awful for her pain. When it was gone, her eyes were gold again, her body fell to the floor. “Noctua!” Steve ran to her side, she looked feeble. 

Tenebrae felt awful for causing her pain. It never aimed to do so, but it was a long trip through space and time. She knew it would not be a fair toll on her body. It had to be done though, the boy was showing care for her. It’s work so far was going well. Quickly and smoothly it spoke to her, “rest my child. I must go, you will awaken in the morning.” As the medics came and took her to the hospital bay of the compound, Fury and Stark examined the artifacts.

Bucky was kept as he was the witness, Steve promised him with updates on her. The men listened as he explained everything, including the vinyl he didn’t know she stole off her friend, apparently it was a rough cut of some popular album. It was terrifying, that she could do such things. He was wrong, she was capable of more than he thought. 

#sorceress #witch #oc!female #Steve Rogers #bucky barnes #tony stark #nick fury #stevie nicks #1960s #1970s #chris evans #sebastian stan #robert downey jr. #mcuedit #mcu #time travel #seven wonders #ahs coven #bury a friend

[carameloveskook]

starlight

CHAPTER ONE

pairing: idol!jungkook x idol!reader

warnings: 🌧 & 🌸

thousands of crowds, fans roaring both your names. people are willing to do anything to get ahead of the game, and breaking a heart for fame isn’t surprising in this industry.

everyone is using this gif but I love it so much!

notes: should i do a part 2? also I need a name for y/n’s group suggestions anyone? :)))

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The roaring crowds that cover the stadium fill you up with adrenaline and the tiny hairs in your arms start to rise as the audience chant your group’s name. The black risers beneath you begin to rise, Zora, your group leader grabs your hand. You met her during your audition after you left the room with a doubtful expression plastered on your face, she went up to you. Her kindness attracted you and her dancing skills were out of this world, the way she moved her body so freely landed her a spot for a potential group when they announced the callbacks. What surprised you the most however was how happy her face was when your name was called to join her group. You’ve always admired Zora, she was like a big sister for you. Whenever you had a problem she was the one you went to.

She must’ve seen you tense expression because she was rubbing her thumb on the back of your hand softly. You smile at the gesture, the warmth from your hand grows cold once Zora lets go to adjust her outfit. The screams become louder and the crowd starts to chant your group’s name once you all emerge from the ground. Chanri yelled into the mic and started to hype up the crowd. You two first met through Zora, they were talking to each other the day after your auditions. Chanri was beautiful and there was no doubt that she had a lot of admirers once your group had their very first debut. Admittedly, you were completely intimidated by her and her rapping skills. The way she held on to herself every time she rapped, fire seemed to be radiating off of her body and the crowd adored her. It was awkward at first for the two of you especially since she was the oldest out of all the girls. She would smirk every time you looked at her in awe and eventually she went up to you to smack your head. “Don’t look at me with your mouth open, I’m your unnie it’s disrespectful.” She gave you a playful smile and beckoned you to join the stage with her. The two of you became close since then. 

Chanri looks towards your direction and smiles at you before looking at Nayoung. Nayoung was the last member to be placed in your group but that doesn’t mean she any less special to you and the other girls. She was the shining sun in your group, whenever someone was having a terrible morning, Nayoung was there to brighten their day. Her flashing smile is always contagious, there was a time where you ran out of dance practice out of embarrassment and Nayoung hurried after you. She discovered you crying in a closet, it was difficult at first but she managed to get you to open about your insecurities and proceeded to comfort you. You both were the youngest in the group, because of that, you two would have disputes over silly things but none of them were ever serious. In fact, all those disputes made you closer than the other two girls. She was your ride or die until the end of time. 

Anyways, back to the present, you look around at the crowd before getting into the dancing position of your recent song. They begin to chant each of your names in order from oldest to youngest before chanting your group's name. Cameras were all focus on you while you sang your solo, looking towards the screen it shifted its attention from your group to a boy in the crowd. It was Jungkook, a member of the popular boy group, BTS. He was handsome, skilled and you had to admit it, you did have a crush on him. Who wouldn’t want him honestly, he’s rich, talented, kind and at the ripe age of 21. The two of you have had your fair exchange of conversations to the point where both of your fans ship you. It wasn’t extraordinary but every time you would communicate with him, your heart would beat fast and butterflies would flutter inside your stomach. His smile was more infectious then Nayoung’s especially when it’s towards your direction. The cameraman was able to catch his bunny-like grin during your performance making the crowd go wild, he wasn’t able to do so often because it becomes the #1 headline the next day. You smile at the screen, not noticing the cameras catching the whole thing. Finally, your song comes to an end and you flash a suggestive smirk before the lights dim. “That was the best performance yet!” Zora exclaims, she was sweating but she still looked like a goddess. Chanri nods in agreement, “Did you see Jungkook? He was practically beaming at you y/n.” The girls giggled, you blushed, “Guys he was looking at all of us, we were amazing! Sexy even, people were smiling everywhere and the camera just chose Jungkook.” Chanri rolled her eyes but didn’t say anything.

You and your group were escorted to your seats in order to watch the other performances, they were mind-blowing and everyone left you astonished. The next day, as expected, the headlines were titled, “JUNGKOOK X Y/N, A NEW COUPLE ON THE RISE?” It showed a picture of you smiling at the screen of Jungkook smiling at you. You sighed and picked up the phone to call your manager. It took a few rings before he picked up and the first thing you hear from him was: “I have a plan.” It sounded so suspicious and you were worried about what your manager was gonna say next. “How do you feel about dating Jeon Jungkook?”

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tag list:

@dimple-jungkook  @d-noona

if u would like to be added to the tag list, dm me.

#bts #bts x reader #Jungkook x reader #bts fluff #bts angst #Jungkook fluff #Jungkook angst #fanfic #Jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook

[wordsfromgrime]

One Night in Richmond

~Busted~

It never hurts to show up with a case of beer so I stop at Lombardy Kroger on my way to the Circle and pick up some Blue Moons and a box of popsicles -both alluding to the festive mood facing through the air. This morning the mayor announced the resignation of our only ten-day old police chief, and while many understood the dense socio-political tactics implied with the decision, most celebrated the occasion as well. A Friday night at the top of summer will always carry with it feelings of excitement and reward.

I pull my bike up to the normal spot at Marcus-David Peters Circle and recognize a few familiar faces in the soft afterglow of dusk’s light. The sun is just now setting, leaving only about 30 minutes until full darkness and the cover that comes with it. Now, the sun is still tightrope walking over the horizon, the sky shimmering with raspberry-lemonade tones and watermelon marshmallow clouds. Around the turn of the Circle a free concert is underway, made possible with just a microphone, a generator, and a few amps. We doodle with spray-paint, or attempt freestyle tricks on our fixed gears, as we sip beers and bust musings on the day.

We’re all rocking on the obvious cookout vibe, but we’re tentative as well; We aren’t completely relaxed. We’ve seen things turn from lax to chaos before, in only a second, for no reason at all, and we know it can happen again.  When you’re facing an enemy that has full control over the definitions of combat, it’s forgiven to feel nervous.

For now though, it’s good vibes and sunshine. And while our conversations dance around the protests, the police, police brutality, human rights, the mistakes of the generations before us, and our determination to fix those mistakes, mostly we just talk about Richmond. It’s hard to explain Richmond to someone who hasn’t stayed there for any amount of time. Richmond is like an oasis that’s also a black hole. Richmond is the place you’re trying to get out of, and also the place you can’t wait to be back in. Richmond is the place you think you deserve. Richmond is where a lot of us feel most at home, but it’s a home that needs sweeping renovations.

As we expound freely on the failures and accomplishments of the capitol city, more and more of our friends arrive, skidding to stops at the periphery of our claimed area and slowly increasing our settlement size. It’s easy to dominate a space when everyone arrives with a bicycle, and in our group it’s pretty much a necessity to show up with some wheels of a sort. Besides a general interest in protesting the state, bicycles have been the strongest conjoining factor throughout the ragtag group of friends that I’ve been meeting with near-daily since the brutal murder of George Floyd at the end of March.

Some of these friends, like Salad (our stoic, de facto captain of the group who’s got friends in every part of town) and Funky (our resident artist and Big Wheel extraordinaire), I’ve known for a while and originally met just by biking in the same parts of town. But others, like Sophia (badass girl with a Wide Bars/Big Heart combo) or Johnny (no fixie yet [just a road bike], but is well-loved for his reputation of generosity and hilarious braggadociousness) I’ve only spent real time with since the protests began. All in all, there’s about 12 of us that have formed a little posse of itinerant protestors. Every summer brings with it something new, but something about the revolution marching down the streets had this summer already feeling particularly seismic. And something about all that “newness” in the air made me feel more like a kid again.

Soon, a few men in assault rifles and military vests approach us, seemingly threatened by their own lack of acceptance and comradery now reflected against our group of laughing friends.  

“Is this your tent? This tent’s gotta go!” the man begins the conversation, unaware or unwilling to exchange pleasantries.

“It’s not our tent but we don’t think it should go”, a few people begin to say at once. “That tent is covering a free community library.”

“Well, when the cops get here this is going to make them upset, and they’re going to come in here and destroy it anyway,” the man says. “So I’m just saying y’all should take it down before I come back with a few other guys with rifles and take it down myself….cuz we don’t want the cops to come!”

“You can do whatever you want, man, but we’re not going to take down some tent that isn’t ours just because you think the cops might come,” our friend Amin (always good for a giant smile and a fat joint) says. “And also, that whole theory doesn’t make a lot of sense to me” He punctuates this last part with a tip of his head and a swig of his beer.

The man grumbles to himself and walks away, returning ten minutes later with his aforementioned rifled goons, as well as a lady that doesn’t really seem to fit in with them.

“This lady owns the library so we’re getting her to take it down,” the man says, directing his speech towards our group for no apparent reason other than to start a conflict. He was obviously oblivious to how his aggressive, commandeering attitude was completely antithetical to the entire idea of the community space that is Marcus-David Peters Circle…or maybe he was just an asshole. Regardless, he was a blatant intimidator, and unless we’re talking about Number 3 (RIP) there’s just no room for that inside the Circle.

We ignored whatever the guy was trying to serve to us and kicked back, but soon the man was back again with an even larger group, now forcefully encouraging everyone to exit the interior of the Circle under the assurance that “the cops can’t touch us if we aren’t in the Circle”. As one tends to notice, it’s hard to say “no” to a group of men with large guns in their hands, so the group was having large amounts of success with their attempts to incentive people out of the area. Our group, though still not understanding completely or agreeing with the logic of the move, followed suit, packing up our blankets, beers, and popsicles.

Not five minutes after the entire populace of the Circle had been cleared out of the area that lay surrounded by graffitied barriers, officers in riot gear began to arrive, just as the man earlier had “predicted”. Predicted! *Hmpf*! Predicted, or imprecated? Or better yet, foretold? Because I reckon it’s a hell of a lot easier to predict the future when you’ve got a direct line to the chain of commands. I also reckon that about the only person who would come up and complain about the tent covering up a free library was some bootlicking wannabe-cop snitch who knew, without a doubt, that the cops were coming that night, whether they had a reason to or not.

And, of course, there was no reason that any amount of police officers, let alone 50+ outfitted in full riot gear, should have appeared that night. No reason for a city to sic a militarized pack of baton-wielding goons on its own people. No reason why the citizens of Richmond could not have just been left to be: listening to music, drinking beers, talking with friends. These were the crimes we committed before being attacked.

As police announced to the crowd that the surrounding area had been declared an “unlawful assembly” by the state, tempers began to flare on both sides. Rampant rubber bullets and flash bang grenades sliced through the air, as chants and screams rose up from the civilians. Suddenly, the space felt like a warzone, a battle with what seemed like completely lopsided enemies. On one side stood line after line of grown men adorned in battle armor, helmets, and shields. Some held Assault Rifles or guns meant for firing rubber bullets and smoke canisters; all wore heavy, polished, steel-toed boots. On the other side stood men, women, children, and pets equipped with nothing more than their wallets, sunglasses, tank tops, and shorts. Some held bottles of water for extinguishing smoke, others had gloves on for tossing tear gas canisters away; all wore a sense of fear, anger, confusion, and determination on their face. These Richmonders, who had done nothing more than to enjoy the public space of their city, would not be deterred so easily. A feeling had spread through the crowd that we would not be punished unjustly tonight. If we were going to have to face the consequences of merely existing in the street, then we weren’t going down without a fight.  

The ranks of G.I. Joe-pretenders slowly increased their perimeter, pushing citizens further and further from the reclaimed art space at the epicenter of the Circle. Soon, we stood in the middle of Park Avenue, a block from Monument Avenue, and still we were being told to “back up” and “get out of the street”, by both RPD and VSP. It seemed the boars with badges would not be content until they had claimed the whole neighborhood as their own Draconian hang-space.

When my friend Nick (The big love bully - The homie to ask you if you’re okay when you’ve got a down face) shines his flashlight toward a group of suspicious looking officers, he’s swarmed upon by a particularly dorky looking Virginia State officer who accosts him with a completely trivial question about the bike he’s riding.

“Whoah! Hey! You got lights for this bicycle here?” the officer asked, taking strides closer and closer to us, hand on his hip.

“Two, actually!” Came Nick’s response as we all flipped our bikes around to put some space between the officers and ourselves. “You’re not gunna get us on some shit like that!” He shouted over his shoulder as we pedaled up the street towards a safer space. “ya dumbass cop”

With some distance between the commotion and us, we regroup. Nick, Sophia, Salad, Ryan, Johnny, and I squad up at a park only a block away.

“Shit’s wild”

“What even started this?”

“Oh, they’re definitely mad about the chief resigning.”

“I saw someone get hit right in the face with a rubber bullet”

“Fuck!”

“I saw a couple kids with paint guns shooting at the cops, I think that’s what started it all”

“I mean, the cops started it all when they showed up…”

“AGREED!”

Looking behind him, Johnny says, “This car coming up is an unmarked cop car, anyone want to see where it’s going?”

“Let’s do it”, I say.

And we take off. The two of us darting after this beefy-looking tinted black SUV, keeping close but keeping our distance.

After a few blocks Johnny turns to me and says, “They aren’t going anywhere interesting, let’s head back.” and we reverse-course towards the way we came.

Coming back up towards the intersection where we left the rest of our friends, I can’t say that anything felt particularly off, though it did seem a little quiet, not a simple quiet but a stifled one.

As Johnny and I make our way through the shadow left in the space between two light posts, we hear a “GRAB HIM!” and a hidden mass springs from the darkness. I watch as Johnny’s bike finds the space between charging homunculus and a row of cards and skirts through it successfully, just as the same cop changes direction to tackle me off my bike (FUCK!). The goon leaps into the air as gracefully as an anemic hippopotamus, and tackles me off my bike with the ease of a drunken uncle at Thanksgiving.

“All right, big guy, you got me! You can chill out.” I say to the panting officer now shoving my arms in positions not familiar to them, restraining my non-resisting body with the help of 3 or 4 buddies. “I appreciate all the attention but it’s really not necessary”

“It’s for both of our safeties”, the stormtrooper says to me without looking at my face, instead holding his nose high with eyes darting around the perimeter like some cracked-out hound-dog.

“Oh yeah, I bet”, I say, laughing a little. “Hey man, you having any fun?”

The officer just grunts.

“Aw, c’mon man, what’s your name?”

“Officer Harris” Still no eye contact.

“Hey, officer Harris, you having any fun out here? It’s ok to have fun, I’m having some fun, are you having fun?”

Officer Harris shifts his weight from one foot to the other, rolls his tongue across his upper teeth, and says out of the side of his mouth, “Yeah, I’m having a little fun…but you guys are making it hard for us out here.”

“GROSSSSSSS!” I say laughing from the pit of my stomach, “Oh, Officer Harris, we’ve got real problems” And I continue to laugh as this confused cop looks down on me, still zip-tied at his feet. I was beyond affable at this point from the adrenaline and alcohol coursing through my bloodstream, and while the fear of this cop and his gang of buddies assaulting me crossed through my mind, I figured if I was in for a penny I was in for a pound. Being arrested for protesting the police force already put me in a vulnerable position, and I figured the policeman’s image of me couldn’t be altered much in the short time we were interacting with each other, but I wanted to say one more thing before Officer Harris cast me aside as some wanton rioter.

“I hope you don’t think I’m just some white punk, some revolutionary with no cause. I’m fighting for what I believe in, and I sleep well every night, Officer Harris, do you?”

“I try,” Khaleed Harris said with a sigh as he put me in a cage in the back of a van.

“Now, watch your head.”

[shleepys]

Summer Tones

This story can be found on my Archive of Our Own! I recommend going there and reading the notes I’ve left. Any feedback (constructive criticism or support) on either platform is highly appreciated. :)

TRIGGER WARNING : mentions of abuse and suicidal thoughts.

Chapter Six

Ch.1 - Ch. 2 - Ch. 3 - Ch. 4 - Ch. 5

- - - - - -

June 5th, 1985

Amber

The Next Day

The front door latched shut with a quiet click, silence rummaging about the house as the three left. Neil, Susan, and Max. Gone. Off to go do something together without their ‘son’ after he had made excuses as to why he couldn’t go out. But in reality, he just didn’t want to go out, especially if Neil came along.

Amber stretched across the hardwood floors in a subtle sway, shining through windows marked with drawn curtains and white blinds. Yellow accented the walls with its warm hue as the sun danced across Billy Hargrove’s face. He stared up at the ceiling, quietly waiting for the roar of Neil’s truck to break the silence and slowly disappear down the road. Eventually, the rumble came and went as the distant sounds of terrible memories and hate fled and allowed him to temporarily embrace safety. A few hours to himself to contemplate the night before and what Neil would have done to him this morning if he wasn’t back at the house before he woke up.

Guilt toyed with his decision to leave without telling Steve goodbye, but he didn’t want to wake him up. Maybe he would reveal why he left the next time they met up, or maybe Steve would reveal the terrible shit that his parents have pulled in the past. . . or maybe they would pretend that the night never happened.

Like Billy never managed to get up to Steve’s window and knocked on it, like Steve didn’t grab his wrist and cry into Billy’s button-up after hugging him, like they totally didn’t sleep in the same bed together and Steve cuddled up to Billy in his sleep.

Billy sat up from his bed, brushing back a few stray curls with his hand as his attention focused on his cassette player. He blinked. An urge spreading through him as he remained there, completely motionless, almost as if he were waiting for something to suddenly happen. As if him sitting there and thinking would cause the cassette player to start up.

He exhaled through his nose before standing and sluggishly moving towards the electronic box. Billy stared at it for a while, noting how the scratched chrome showed his vague reflection and the white glare of the sun made it seem as if he was glowing. He sat down in front of it, never taking his eyes off of the inorganic thing until he dragged his vision towards the several boxes of cassettes hidden catty-corner behind his mirror.

He moved to all fours to reach it, sitting on his knees as he backed away with the container and opening it with hesitation. Inside laid several tapes, all twirling with the gold glow of the room as their colors popped against the black box. Carefully, he pulled one out. Billy stared at its cover, discomfort raking its nails down his back as the person on it seemingly stared right back at him. Like it was trying to pluck parts of his soul out of him through his eyes but reassure him that all will be alright. The title bolded in red above, ‘10cc The Original Soundtrack’.

He pulled his legs from under himself, sitting with them spread rather than uncomfortably on them before pushing the button to open the player. Billy slid the cassette inside, a frown twisting at his lips. And with a quiet click, he closed the little door and pressed play.

At first, the music swept him over softly. A faint pleasant tune providing him a sense of blissful ignorance and a way to ignore the hellscape thrashing about in his mind. But then it began to crumble. Bit by bit the barricades were ripped away allowing the music to turn sour and pound at his temples. Increasingly getting louder and louder until his eyes stung and lip quivered. A lump of self-hatred was caught in his throat, tightening the airway until he felt like he couldn’t breathe before he broke into a broken sob. His heart had drifted and burned a pit in the bottom of his stomach.

He didn't have a word - a phrase to describe what churned in his chest and prodded at his mind last night. The feeling was so familiar yet so out of his reach. Something rested its hands on his shoulders and whispered sweet little nothings about Steve into his ear. That something poured kerosene onto his skin and gave Steve the match to ignite it, to set his wrist on fire when he grabbed it and spread through the rest of his body in waves when he begged him to stay. The one that gave a devilish smirk behind Steve when he hugged him like he was never going to get to see him.

That something turned out to be Eros, and he in all of his grace had accompanied them under the pale moonlight, his wings engulfing them both with a sense of security that no one was going to interrupt this precious moment. And when the deity had to leave, he pressed a bittersweet kiss to Billy's lips to lock his fate and let him know for sure that he, Billy Hargrove, was in fact falling in love.

But it wasn't just with anyone, oh no, it was with Steve fucking Harrington.

Billy stared at himself in the mirror, fear flooding his eyes as he combed his fingers through his hair and yanked. His chest felt like it had been set ablaze while the rest of his body tried to fight the sobbing and somehow turn his mind back off.

He’s afraid, terrified. He let someone into his life, let them into his heart while simultaneously trying to keep it fully guarded. Steve had somehow made it past the barbed wire and bombs defending his mind, his emotions. . . him. His greatest fears danced around him and blurred his vision with every taunting step and scream as they kept reminding him of reality. How Neil wouldn’t hesitate to kill his ‘faggot’ of a son, how Hawkins would gladly shun him despite also having feelings for women as well, how no one has any remote amount of respect and care for him in the whole world other than Tommy Hagan because. . . well, he and Tommy had done some things. Confidential things.

But, what about Steve? Steve, he wouldn’t abandon him, would he?

Surely after everything they’ve done so far, all of the emotions that they’ve revealed and support they’ve given one another, surely Steve wouldn’t just leave him. Maybe he would just be uncomfortable. That or maybe he would never want to see him again.

But at the party, with what Steve had stated so calmly to him, like if it were a life long promise or pact that they would keep between one another. That he’s here for him, that he can help him.

Surely that wasn’t some stupid fucking lie that he said just to make him feel better. Surely the laughs, cries, and screams weren’t all a sick joke constructed against him. He tried to laugh through a cry, hum little bits of the song that was waging warfare with his thoughts, but it did nothing to ease the lump in his throat or the burning, stabbing, pain in his chest.

Emotional turmoil had been waiting for when the time was right to strike a jaded Billy Hargrove, almost as if it were a prophecy that he would’ve fallen for Steve and the flood gates would’ve busted open. Years of torment and abuse boiling down to self-hatred and fear that led to frustration and confusion. Billy questioned himself, especially after apologizing to Steve. He questioned if he should’ve gone to Steve’s last night, if it was alright to like both sexes, if it was alright to be human. All were stuck in the back of his mind and weren’t planning on leaving any time soon. Particularly the sexuality part, but also the human part, but mainly the sexuality part.

How the fuck is that even possible? To like both at once?

Billy shivered as he brought his knees into his chest, attempting to laugh again but only being met with more sobs. He didn’t want to have Neil’s ideals, he didn’t want to be anything like him. Every day felt like it was going to be his last, every time Neil yelled at him he felt like he was going to snap and then get killed for whatever bursts out of his mouth. Every time he got hit, he was reminded of his mother and how she left him without giving a reason why. He could imagine why she left, why she ran away from Neil, but not why she would leave Billy behind with him. There had been points where he had been covered with so many bruises that he couldn’t count them all, where he was afraid he was going to bleed to death out of his nose and mouth, where he had been fretful about crying himself to sleep because if Neil heard him he knew that he would come in there and ‘give him a reason to cry’.

There were the contemplations about running away, escaping to another town and pursuing another life. Cutting all of his hair and changing his name, hoping that he could find some kind of peace and maybe even find his mother, wherever she may be. There were undoubted contemplations about death as well. The l'appel du vide that chanted his name while he sped down abandoned streets near the quarry at night, screeched when looking at his pocket knife, cheered when he got dangerously drunk at a party. The void calls for him at times, but he doesn’t respond to it.

He doesn’t want to comply. He doesn’t want to give in to Neil and the abuse that has traumatized him.

But he has to give Steve credit for that.

Steve brings out something in him, something foreign that he can’t describe. Maybe. . . maybe it’s hope. The hope for a better life. The hope for someone to care. The hope for someone to. . . love him.

For Steve to love him.

Billy loves Steve, he doesn’t want to really admit it though. Will Steve love him back, or will he run away?

#enemies to friends to lovers #steve harrington #steve harrington x billy hargrove #Billy Hargrove #harringrove #mentions of abuse and suicidal thoughts #angst #crying #internalized homophobia #slowburn #oh no our boy is crying :(

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Wrought Iron Machine (Part 3)

The wail of Baatar’s guitar echos around the venue as it dies off. The sound of P’Li’s rhythm guitar had done so only seconds before. Taking a deep breath, Kuvira finishes off the acapella ending of the song. Once upon a time it had been a highly experimental move...to end a song with no instrumental backing. It had been a successful risk and it still does the trick when she decides to bring it back.

The crowd bursts into a series of cheers, claps and, whistles. Louder and more intense than she has heard in a long while. And, for a moment, Kuvira remembers the jubilation of their early days. For a moment,  she feels as though she has regained some of the band’s former traction.

She smiles down at the crowd and nods at their kind reception. It is the best she’s gotten since coming into the Fire Nation. She watches Ming toss her drumsticks into the air and then catch them again. It is something she does when she thinks that all eyes are on Kuvira and off of herself. This time she gets a few claps, so she does it again, this time giving the drums a few hits.

Kuvira lets the impromptu display continue until the woman has had a full on drum solo complete with drumstick twirling and throwing. Ming ends it with a with a final toss and a final hit. The crowd cheers and she flicks one of the sticks into the crowd and then the other.

P’Li and Gazhan mirror the action with their guitar picks. The crowd momentarily, but frantically congregates in the directions of them. Once all of the picks save for one per band member have been distributed, they take their bows. “You guys have been wonderful.” Kuvira notes. “I try not to pick favorites, but I think that this is one of our best crowds of this tour.”

Baatar nods in agreement.

“How would you all like to take a picture with us?” She asks. The act of taking pictures with the crowd is a relatively new tradition, a trend started by Fire Of Agni and a few bands like them. As much as she loathes to admit it, it is a brilliant idea. A way to commemorate things and bring in a little more revenue. It isn’t very easy to distribute the photos taken and their film reel is limited so they have to pick and choose which crowds to take the shots with. The rarity of the photos typically warrant decent money when their record label auction them off.

After claps and cheers of approval P’Li adds, “then give us your best Vaatu horns!”

Many years in and Kuvira still has to laugh at whoever coined that term. Vaatu didn’t have horns, more like flared out whisps. No less she faces away from the crowd and slings an arm around Baatar and makes the hand sign with her free hand.

The Hakodak camera flashes. It’s a fine model, she must say; a folding autographic model, black-brown in color. It isn’t the latest model, but it is nice enough to get the job done and still earn a few buyers. The camera flashes thrice more. Kuvira makes a mental not to look through the four images after they print and decide which one to keep.

She leads them backstage and listens to the whooping and hollering until it becomes a familiar chanting of their band name, rather a shortened version. “Wrought Iron! Wrought Iron! Wrought Iron!” She lets them continue for sometime, building up the anticipation. “I think that they’re ready for us to come back out.”

“Do we have to?” Gazhan asks earning him a glower from P’Li.

“Yes.” Kuvira answers. “We do. This is our best show in a long time. Let’s end it that way.” She leads them back out and stands before the crowd once more. The cheering intensifies until she believes that it is reaching its peak. Kuvira nods in approval.

They scream for her, for her band.

Staring out at them is like looking at an army awaiting orders from a general.

“I’d say that they’re in the mood for one more.” Baatar announces. He looks at Kuvira but she knows that he is addressing the crowd.

They give another collective and affirmative cheer.  

“I don’t know about that.” Kuvira replies, eliciting a more energetic round of applause. “Maybe they are, after all…” She trails off.

They begin chanting the band name again, it is nearly lost under cheers and whistles.

“Alright, but you’re all going to have to convince Ghazan.”

And they go from chanting the band name to Ghazan’s. It isn’t quite the response she had in mind, but it will do.

“Think you can handle this Ghazan?” P’Li asks.

Kuvira detects the taunt in her voice and goes tense. Raava, she hopes that they don’t start on stage. Not when they are having such a good night. And perhaps she is radiating this because Ghazan brushes the comment off and says, “I can. But can they?”  He points his guitar at the crowd and they go wild once more.

“I think that we’ve reached a decision.” Kuvira notes. “I suppose, since you’ve all been so kind, that we should play a new song.”

“You all will be the first to hear it.” Baatar adds.

The volume of the applause is greater than even before. This lot has a lot of energy. It lifts Kuvira’s spirit some. A smile spreads across her face, one that she couldn’t stop even if she had tried. Ming pounds out the first beats.

.oOo.

Kuvira flops onto the bed and blows out a tired breath. She ought to unravel her braid and shower, but she hasn’t the energy. She said that they’d play one more song, their new one. But she played at least three or four. Raava, that crowd had been a good one. It had made her feel like they were in their prime days.

“Are you going to get dressed for bed?” Baatar asks.

She gives a dismissive hand flap, too drained to do anymore.

“Fair enough.” He chuckles. “I guess I’ll just sleep in my day clothes too.”

Kuvira feels the bed dip as he crawls up next to her as he so often did. One of his hands slides to her hip and the other caresses her cheek as she presses her forehead against his. He kisses her good night. It is a rare moment, a moment where things aren’t so tense. A night so good that she can pretend that there is nothing wrong at all. Not with the band and not between the two of them.

She squeezes his hand.

She wants to savor the moment, to drag the night on. But sleep takes her without her consent.

.oOo.

As soon as the sun rises, Kuvira is thankful that she has scheduled an off day. She is sore all over and her eyes still feel so heavy. She pulls herself upright feeling sluggish as all hell. The stretches she does as she stands, do little to ease the tension in her muscles. It is a familiar ache the kind that came in wake of dancing while managing an expensive microphone. Raava had she missed dancing, she wonders why she had stopped doing so on stage. She thinks back, unfondly, of accidently falling off of the stage. Of the incident that really set in motion their steady fall from grace.

Sometimes, in sleep, the sound of her leg snapping still haunts her. It was such a sickly sound. A sickly feeling when the blood started welling and worse still, knowing that she couldn’t actually feel her leg. And faces, so many faces.

Watching.

Judging.

The magazines and newspapers had their work made for them.

Such a slow physical recovery had at least given her time to write songs, but that had hardly made up for the sheer amount of cancelled shows. They still had half a tour left. A waste it had been. A shameful waste. She thinks that, that is why it is hard for them to gain traction in the Fire Nation. They can no longer be trusted to stick to a schedule. The more she thinks about it, the harder it is for her to decide what exactly is doing the most damage; the falling popularity in their style of music or their own unexpected mishaps and shortcomings.  

Kuvira pinches the bridge of her nose, determined to think about something else. This isn’t how she wants to start her morning after such an optimistic performance. She motions for one of their firebender roadies to lightningbend their portable oven--another relatively new invention--in to useable condition and begins fixing herself a hot cup of green tea. She enters the time into the portable oven and puts the cup within.

As she waits for the thing to boil the water, she finds herself something to wear. Something very casual; a simple white T-shirt and a pair of green sweatpants. Baatar is already standing, shirtless, before the mirror when she gets there. Her eyes fall on the mechanical badger-mole he had tattooed on his chest during their first tour. He has another on his back, a large depiction of the mechsuit they had designed together. One day she ought to bring those costumes back on stage.

She watches him fumble with his small gauge earrings. She isn’t all that fond of them, but she makes no mention of it, especially since she had kind of brought it upon herself. She had been the one to suggest getting them in the first place and suggested that everyone in the band get at least one--some extra metal for an Zaofu based metal band.

While Kuvira has little ink of her own she admits to perhaps going  a little overboard with the piercings; an arch of rings on both of her brows—the final ring on her right brow linked by a small chain to a different piercing on her ear—a stud collar bone pierced, many more on her ears, and a lip ring. She has been considering getting a new nose stud.

She thinks of Ming-Hua. Ming who is a stark contrast to herself. Ming who isn’t as adventurous, she keeps it simple with only a small navel piercing… the woman didn't even get her ears pierced.

And then she thinks of P'Li  who is also pretty simple—the woman was more of a tattoo type. The only piercing she had gotten was one on her arm, a small ruby stud that acts as an eye for her fiery tigerdillo tattoo.

Ghazan is more like herself, having only one tattoo of Vaatu on his bicep but a collection of piercings. Most notably are his nipple rings, the man likes to make a point of reminding everyone of how much those had hurt. His ears are also pierced from top to bottom and more recently he had acquired himself some snake bites.

Kuvira squeezes next to Baatar and begins quietly unraveling her braid. In the mirror she sees Baatar lean in and slip his arms around her middle as he cranes his neck to press a kiss to the back of her own. Right on the one tattoo she does have; a lotus flower opening into a cloud of teeny music notes.

“How’d you sleep?”

“Very well.” She replies.

“Good to hear. And how is your throat?”

She lifts her hand and gives him a ‘so-so’ gesture. It could certainly feel worse. She hears her roadie call to tell her that her drink is done. “Join me for some tea?” She knows by now that he isn’t a fan of the drink, but she still likes to ask.

“I’ll pass.” He unhooks his hands and lets her return to her tea.

Staring into her cup she tries to come up with a way to keep last night’s momentum going. She hopes she can cling onto her spunk for at least two more shows. It could do the band wonders.

P’Li comes to sit next to her, slamming a magazine down onto the table with force enough to have some of Kuvira’s tea splattering on the table. “Look at this shit!”

Everything in the woman’s tone tells, Kuvira that she doesn’t want to. Either it is an article dragging them through the mud or something prising Fire Of Agni in a way they don’t deserve. No, she doesn’t want to know, but she looks anyhow.

Her nose crinkles in disgust. “That’s not the same picture is it?” She hopes that she is mistaken and that it is the one she’d already seen.

“Nope, brand new.”

If it is attention that the Fire Of Agni members want, they are certainly getting it. Kuvira tosses the magazine in the trash, thanking Raava that she’d never go that far for publicity.

What she doesn’t understand is why they need it, Fire Of Agni already has all eyes on them. Perhaps they want to completely overtake the spotlight.

The magazine glares up at Kuvira from the rubbish bin.

#Avatar #Legend Of Korra #Kuvira #Azula #Baatar #Zuko #P'Li #Ming-Hua #Ghazan #TyLee #Mai #Fanfiction

[svetspi-of-kasvrroa]

The Interloper From the North

It was in the depths of that cold and dreary time of year of bitter winds, and short, grey days, known familiarly as winter.

I had fallen into the seasonal depression and irritation that came with the time.

Children seemed to revel in the snow, forming it into balls, and tossing them at each other, as well as at various passerby, chattering with a glee that quite frankly baffled me, and left me feeling even more sour than when I had first awoken to see the horrid, white stuff blanketing the yard, and piled up against the windows of my bedroom. The stuff had coated the front walk, and left it treacherous to navigate on my way out that morning. And of course it had been too early in the day for the plowman to have come to clear the drive, and salt the roads.

I had not lived in this town long, and my home was placed (rather awkwardly) on the slope of a hill on the outskirts, where civilization gave way to a dark wood which loomed ominously  over the the roads and rooftops.

As a whole, it was not a bad place -quaint, and perhaps a bit more lacking in proper educated folk- but not bad. And regardless of how much or little I liked the place, it was not as if I could just up and leave; I had a reason to be here after all.

I had moved here chasing rumors of a dreadful sort: the resurgence of an old pagan religion, practiced in the old days of antiquity, when European civilization was still young, and horrid things still lurked the deep shadows of winter nights, prowling the tenebrous borders of dark forests just like that which crept hungrily onto the edges of my property.

According to a colleague of mine, who had tipped me off to the place, the cult had taken over the entire town, converting every last man, woman, and child to their barbaric, primitive, ways.

One would think that such a cult, that could entangle an entire village, would be easy to learn about, but alas! Despite my remaining undercover for nigh unto two months in the place, not one cultist had been caught speaking of their pagan ways! I was beginning to fear that perhaps what I had been told was just that: talk! With nothing to back it up but rumors and hearsay.

That is, until, the night of the winter solstice. In that, the darkest, longest, night of the year, I was roused from sleep by a what sounded to my ears like a distant, chanting song, low, and loud, and choral in sound, as sung by hundreds of voices.

A chill ran down my spine, raising the hairs on my neck, and setting my heart thudding loud and quick. My mouth dry, and hands shaking, I slowly pulled off my blankets, and slipped on my robe, and the cold floorboards creaking traitorously as I crept from my bed and cautiously made my way to the eastward window, which faced out, over the town. My hands, set on the sill clenched, my knuckles turning white, and my arms shaking. What I beheld before me was horrifying. A fearful orange light danced across the rooftops, and trees, mixing and intertwining with the phantasmal blue light given by the the full moon overhead, gazing ruefully through a ragged gash in the black clouds above. From the middle of the town, rose an awful column of flame, sending up sparks of red, yellow, and orange, hundreds of feet into the air, and birthing a plume of black, swirling, smoke, that rose up, higher and higher, until mixing with the dark clouds above.

Though the source of the vast flame largely was obscured by shops and treetops, I could just barely make out several figures. Though dark, against the bright light of the flame, and shrouded in what appeared to be robes and hoods, I could well see that there were members both male, and female, and of a great variety of of statures and builds. With each rise and swell of that unholy choir, the dark figures would clasp their hands together and raise them high, swaying with the melody. And, in that moment, I made a horrific observation: among the singers were children. By god, they had children partaking in their awful ritual! Then that would also mean that all the town was likely down their, dressed in the robes and swaying in time with that abominable, alien, music!

I found myself frozen, unable to look away from the scene down below until, at last, the song ceased, the singers dropped their hands, and the fire burned down to simple coals.

When I was finally released from that awful spell, I could not return to sleep. What I had just witnessed was undeniable: it was all true. This was it. Everything that I had been looking for, and yet, I found that it brought nothing but dread. I knew not what it was that I had just witnessed, but I could only fear the worst.

As I sat there, shuddering on my bed, waiting for morning my mind darted and shifted to dark places, and dark things, bringing to mind remembrances of my studies of the gruesome rituals of the fire-worshipping cult of Yax’taztut’thut in the remote sands of Eqypt, and readings on the dreadful Nantucket moon-cult.

When the sun finally rose, after what seemed an eternity, I found myself overcome by a great weariness, and, unable to hold my eyes open any longer, drifted to sleep.

I spent the next several days drifting about my home in a sort of stunned, paranoid, dread, peeking at passerby on the road through the curtains -all of which I had drawn shut- and pacing about my bedroom.

But, alas, I knew that I must eventually venture out from the safety of my home.

It was a frigid afternoon, and a light snow was beginning to fall, big, heavy, flakes tumbling down from the heavens, and breaking gracelessly upon overcoat. I thought that if, in fact, my fears were true, and the entire town had taken part in that dreadful ceremony days before, it is more than likely that upon seeing me, they may realize that I was not among them that awful, dark, solstice, night, and I shudder to think what the penalties for such a thing should be.

As I walked through the village, head down, and hat drawn over my face, so as to obscure it from passerby, I noticed a change had taken place…

Objects of a dreadful, and occult, nature had been hung from the street-lamps. Ropes of blood red, like fresh entrails had been tangled amongst the bushes, and chanting like those which now seemed so distant emanated from some unseen place, loud, and horrible, prying at my ears, and clawing their way into my mind, seeming to batter and tear at my very soul, until finally, I could no longer take it, and with a cry bolted into the general store.

But dear god, I was not safe there, for though the chanting had been blocked from my mind, before me, in the very center of the room, encircled by those same sanguinous cords as were tangled up in the bushes outside was an awful spire, adorned with unholy depictions the likes of which I dare not -nay, cannot describe in human language. And before that awful spire, stood a woman, and a child, festooned in that same visceral red color, adorned in awful pagan, imagery. They were speaking to each other, about what, I do not know, but from the small snippet I did hear, I do not know if I wish to. As the woman turned to her child, she took her hands, and uttered a phrase that made me turn around, and run, as fast as my legs could carry me, non-stop, the full  mile back to my home: “He will come tonight. We must prepare.”

Who “he” is, and what sort of preparations “his” coming requires… I shudder to think.

I cannot escape… the road is buried too deep, and the plowman has still not come. The snow is falling faster, and as the night descends on the valley, gloom creeps like some insipid, ghoulish liquid, through the cracks and crevices of the floorboards, and walls, pooling in the dark corners of the house, and forming a wall among the trees, and as it does so I can feel the isolation setting in. There is no way out. I am trapped.

It is night now, and I have barricaded the door with the bookcase. A terrible fog has set in, and the chanting rising from the village has finally, stopped, though a small blessing that is, as, in the dark of the night, high, up above the treetops, glows a single star. Bright white, cutting sharp, and cold, through the swirling fog, and blazing like the baleful eye of some dark god in the timeless, infinite blackness of space. I can feel it piercing my very soul..

Even now, I can hear it’s song creeping into my mind, calling out to me, feeling about the dark like a blind man searching for his cane, rattling about inside my skull, growing louder and louder.

Outside, a red glow bleeds into the air -not the natural glow of the sunset, or sunrise, but a horrible, gruesome, glow, unnatural, and impossible, like nothing that could be produced by mortal minds. I know that he draws near.

His song grows deafeningly loud, pounding with a maddening rhythm in my mind. I can only sit here and cradle my head in my hands in the sitting room, but blocking my ears does no good. Oh! God help me! I can hear him pounding on the walls!

The metal chimney rattles and creaks and… god… he is in the room now! He is formless and gruesome, to behold, a bloated, gelatinous mass, bulging and writhing underneath robes of an eldritch, alien, sanguinous red. His eyes -or the black orbs, inlaid in that crimson, bulbous, expanse of a face, that I assumed to be eyes- seemed to contain in their depths that very same baleful star that shone above, and, as from his mouth billowed curls of greasy smoke, I could not hold back a scream, as from the depths of that gruesome, impossible, form, bellowed, three, thunderous, syllables: “Ho. Ho. Ho.”

#lovecraft #christmas #writing

[artificialqueens]

How to Adore the Seasons 2/4 (Adore-centric) - Mac

AN: Hi there friends! This is the second part in a four part series I’m doing where I pair up Adore with someone else and a season to describe how that particular person loves Adore. Idk if that makes sense. Oh well.

Summary: It’s Adore’s birthday, and Alaska has planned some surprises.

Summer (Alaska/Adore):

“She turned to the sunlight

   And shook her yellow head,

And whispered to her neighbor:

   “Winter is dead.” ― A.A. Milne, When We Were Very Young

Adore woke up to the sound of screaming.

Then she let herself slump back into the cool sheets when she figured out where, or more specifically, who the sound was coming from.

She groaned and pulled the blankets over her head, as Alaska poked at her with her nail-less fingers.

“Rise and shine bitch. Let’s go.”

“Mhhhhhmph.” Came from under the blankets.

“What? I can’t hear you.” Adore could feel the smile in Alaska’s voice, and it made her want to strangle the blonde even more than normal.

Adore removed the covers and pointedly looked, well tried to look, her eyes were practically glued shut, at Alaska. “I said fuck you.”

Alaska mocked offense, “Is that any way to treat your elders.”

“When they wake you up at 4 in the morning it is.”

“We gotta get going if we want to catch it.”

Adore wasn’t going to ask what they were supposed to catch. She wasn’t. She was going to go back to sleep. She wasn’t goin-“Catch what?” SHIT

“You’ll see.” Alaska said with a smirk that wasn’t altogether menacing, but definitely not reassuring. “But you have to GET UP first.”

They played tug-of-war with the blankets for a few minutes before Adore’s fatigued muscles gave out. “Fine. But fuck you still.”

Alaska gave a little victory dance that Adore attempted, and failed, not to laugh at. She then began traipsing about Adore’s room, throwing open curtains and humming some ridiculous song that Adore couldn’t be bothered to figure out. Adore took her sweet time getting up and dressed, pointedly ignoring Alaska’s huffs when she took too long. Just as the shirt went over her head, Adore’s world went dark.

“The FUCK?” Adore pulled at the blindfold.

Alaska batted her hands away. “It is a surprise! Keep it on.“

“If you make me fall, I swear.”

“I won’t. Just trust me.”

Adore bites her tongue on a smart reply and allows herself to be lead to a car and driven away. “If it were anyone else,” she mumbles to herself.

Adore hears Alaska fumble with something for a minute, then the unmistakable sound of a disk tray retracting, and suddenly the car is full of music.  And curse Alaska for knowing all of Adore’s favorite music. She was really trying to be angry at the older queen, but the unconscious smile on her lips gave her away.

Alaska saw it, but wouldn’t mention it. She would however, file it away in her mind to be brought out at a later date. And that feeling that accompanied Adore’s smile would also need to be analyzed later. But now, now wasn’t about her.

Alaska kept checking her watch nervously, and gave an audible sigh of relief when they finally arrived. She hopped out and pulled Adore with her. The two walked only a few steps before they stopped.

“Just one more minute now.” Alaska said, mainly to herself. They stood side by side for what felt like ages, before Adore felt Alaska’s hands beside her face.

Adore’s world went from pitch black to full of color in .2 seconds. The sunrise filled the entire horizon line and Adore’s lungs to the brim.

“Wow.” Adore breathed.

“Yeah.” Alaska smiled.

The orange sun was just barely peeking its head up around the curve of the earth, but the color had spread already. Pinks and light purples mixed with blues and yellows around the edges of the horizon. The whole thing blended together to paint the most beautiful art piece either queen had ever seen.

The two stood there for what felt like ages but also only seconds. The sun was no longer eye level when Alaska slipped the blindfold back on Adore’s face.

“HEY!” Adore shouted in indignation.

“We aren’t done yet.”

Adore smiled. A full-unbridled one this time. If this next surprise was anything like the first she knew waking up at the ass-crack of dawn would be worth it.

They drove for a much shorter distance this time. Adore noticed, because she had only just started to get comfortable when Alaska came to a stop. They both hopped out, and Adore smiled again. Her favorite breakfast place. She could tell by the smell alone. It was only open one day of the week, and at the most awful times. As a creature of the night, Adore never could find herself awake before 11:00am, and thus, she missed her opportunity for the most delicious omelet every week.

Adore was ecstatic, and then she was confused. It was a Tuesday. This place was only open on Thursdays. Alaska, sensing the question at the tip of her tongue, tried to move them along by pulling off the blindfold and shaking her hands as if to say ‘ta da.’ Adore let it go for now, the rumbling in her stomach taking priority.

They entered the empty restaurant, picked the best seat in the house, and had their food within minutes of sitting down. Adore didn’t hesitate before digging in. Alaska, ever the patient one, was content to wait a few moments between each bite and just smile at the younger girl.

When Adore finally came up for air, Alaska spoke softly, “Happy Birthday Danny.” Adore beamed at her, and the older queen immediately burst into giggles. Adore looked at her confusedly until Alaska motioned with her hand at her own face. “You’ve got something right…” Adore struggled for a few moments before Alaska took pity, and wiped the stray cheese residue from her cheek. Adore and Alaska sat in relative silence afterwards. There was no rush, there was only time.

Adore isn’t sure how long they sat, only that when they finally got up, the newborn sun now hung high up above them.

Alaska re-did the blindfold and proceeded to take Adore to every activity Adore enjoyed doing, and even some things she had never done before. They went to a trampoline park, and got so incredibly sweaty that Alaska would definitely need to get her car deep cleaned. They had a picnic in the arboretum. They went zip-lining and swimming and talked for hours about the complexities of life, drag, and the pursuit of marijuana. Adore couldn’t remember a time she felt more understood by another person.

Till the last stop.

Adore let herself once again be blindfolded and whisked away to an undisclosed location. This time, when they came to a halt, Adore couldn’t even begin to figure out where they were. She listened for any identifying sounds, but her brain kept coming up empty. All she could tell was that they were outside. Alaska led her by the hand up a few wooden stairs, and then allowed her to stand by herself a few moments.

“You can take it off now.”

Adore did as instructed, and the resulting chant of “Happy Birthday” rung out. Adore spun around wildly, trying to get a glimpse of everything and everyone. All around her were the people she loved most in her life, a beautifully decorated park, and mountains of food. Before she could take it all in, her mother enveloped her in a huge hug. Bianca and Courtney followed next and squeezed the life out of her, whispering how proud they were, and getting a few jabs in here and there.

The party was magnificent. There was a pool and a gazebo and a food truck. Anything Adore could have ever needed was right with her. The party had Alaska written all over it.

Adore searched high and low for any trace of the blonde, but kept missing her. Finally she spotted the lanky queen, and Adore grabbed her friend before she could dart away.

“Hey Lasky. Uh. I just wanted to say thanks for everything today. You did so much, and I really have no idea why, cause its just little old me, but…but thank you. Really. For everything. “Alaska looked down at her, and for the first time that day, Adore could see some trepidation in her eyes. “Whats wrong Lasky?”

“I just…I didn’t want to tell you here. This is your party and you should be being happy with everyone.” Alaska looked this way and that, rather guiltily.

“What’s going on? You can tell me. Anything. You know that.”

Alaska looked unsure, but pulled Adore closer to her so she could whisper, “I’mmovingnextweektonewyorkforajobandiwantedtotellyoubuticouldntandimgoingtomissyousofuckingmuch”

“Wait, hold on, slow down. You’re moving?”

“Yeah.” Alaska was quick to clarify, “I wanted to tell you. All this time I wanted to, but I didn’t know how, and I knew as soon as I did it would be real.” The older queen looked devastated. “I’m just going to miss you, and I was scared I would lose you. So I put it off, and I think all those feelings bubbled up and then…this.” Alaska gestured to the party around them.

Adore looked at her long and hard. She wasn’t sure if she was angry or sad or happy. So she resorted to doing the thing she always did when she felt overwhelmed, she hugged Alaska.

It was a fierce, strong hug that left the two feeling equal parts better, and like they bruised some ribs.

“Ok.” Adore finally said.

“Ok?”

“Yeah. Ok. That doesn’t change anything. You are still my best friend. I still would do anything for you. I still think you are the most amazing person in this world. Nothing will have to change, except I guess that whole time change thing. But other than that, nothing has to change. You don’t have to lose me.”

Alaska’s face broke out into the biggest grin Adore had seen on her in a while. Alaska launched herself at Adore, and the two stood holding each other for ages, until Bianca yelled across the park at them to get a room.

They finally broke away from the embrace, but kept their fingers interlocked as they made their way back over to the others and they stayed that way till they reached the security line at the airport. And while they may physically have untangled their fingers at the gate, they would forever be intertwined.

#how to adore the seasons #mac #friendship fic #fluff #adore delano #alaska thunderfuck #rpdr fanfiction #adore delaska

[rickfallsforgravity]

Diamond Crystals

(Rick x Reader horror, angst, fluff // Trigger warnings: Mental illness, self harm, hallucinations, gore) Foreword: Here’s some Rick Sanchez writing because I haven’t done some in a while. Also this is my 100th post :D This is kinda horror/angst/fluff? so yeah uh enjoy!

I lay in bed, the folds of the blanket tucked around me, cocooning me into a nest of warmth and comfort-

But I felt neither of those things. 

The sickness pooling from my stomach, tainting my breath with a bitter after taste. Leaking out from me like I was a broken pipe, dripping, slowly until everything around me was corrupted with bile and sewage. Black with anger. Black with frustration. Black with disgust for myself. 

I sat up, wincing as the blood rushes to my head. How long had I been lying here for? How many days have I not eaten for? The whole world spinning so viciously- too fast- I just want to-

I slumped back down, tears turning the furniture into mere blobs of colour, running down their well-travelled paths across my skin. Following the crinkles and fault lines that were engrained into my features. The air tarnished by stillness, the stagnancy making it suffocating. I struggled to breath, sobs racking my lungs, making them raw and tender. Again. 

Always happening again. 

I was a broken record player, unable to be fixed, my life just a dull, painful repeat of the same day over and over again. Sleep, cry, repeat, sleep, cry- The cycle only interrupted by futile attempts to dull or distract myself from the pain. I looked down at my wrist, the many attempts evident across my skin. Red, angry scars that hurt to touch, scattered sporadically up my arms- sleeves of affliction. 

Just a pathetic little shit

-

Rick slammed the door of the space ship shut behind him as he settled into the driver’s seat. The plastic bag of food and supplies discarded to the passenger seat as he turned the key in the ignition and the vehicle came to life with a low hum. He sighed. This whole situation was his fault, he should have never have brought you with him on that adventure. He knew that they had come up with a new poison in their weapons, one that HE KNEW lead to psychosis and severe bouts of depression, but that was why he brought you on along. The strong, sensible, intelligent and ultimately emotionally stable (Y/n). He had thought this through- the drug only affected people susceptible to mental illness, who were insecure, who weren’t happy. It was why he hadn’t brought Morty or Beth or fucking Summer. He had chosen you, because you were happy. 

How fucking wrong he had been. 

The symptoms had not shown up immediately. When you were hit by the dart it seemed to have the opposite effect, boosting you with adrenaline. You had fought like a fucking machine that day… and he knew he had not been wrong. He was almost proud of you. But as the next few weeks enfolded, you started to crack. The darkness taking hold so slowly it was impossible to notice until your sleeve had slipped a little too far up your arm one day. When he saw them, the cuts, he had frozen. He had PANICKED. You were still the same. Still happy, still ambitious, still strong. How had that happened? How had it slipped past him-

The truth was that he hadn’t been watching, he had been too sure of himself. But all the signs were as clear as day. And it only got worse. 

Rick smashes his arm upon the steering wheel, frustration and anger buzzing in his being. And the worst thing was that there was no cure. He just had to wait it out, just had to go through with it and let the venom work itself out of your system. He felt helpless, the smartest man in the world yet he had his hands tied. 

-

I clasped my fists around my ears. The voices starting up again, singing their sweet lullaby that dripped through the holds of imaginations into reality, saturated with self-loathing and truth. Their desire made as clear as diamond crystals as they started to dominate over my senses. Bodies and beings flashing before me in the dark, standing and watching me unravel into their claws. 

“You’re not real- Your all part of the drug- y-our not r-real," 

Their calls turning into screams, so loud my head wanted to explode. Their eyes dark and cold, the little light the bedroom contained glinting off them, revealing nothing but the abyss. The oblivion. The emptiness that took hold when the pain subsided…

"FUCK OFF” I shouted at them, fresh tears blossoming, blurring everything but them. No, they- they were as clear as day- as clear as diamond crystals. A scream escaped my lungs as I pressed my face into the mattress, my effort to block them out only making them angrier. I needed to stay strong, I needed to keep trying, for Rick, for him-

I gasped- teeth ripping at the flesh of my forearm, blood dripping onto pillowcase, blooming into the fabric. And it just stood there, the monster. It’s beady eyes sunken deep into its skull, it’s skin shrivelled and decaying in front of me. Slowly, it started to smile, the terrifying grin spreading like an infection, stretching from ear to ear, revealing millions of tiny shards of teeth as sharp as razor blades… smeared in my blood. The cuts in my arm ripped open, spurting fresh colour. 

I fell silent. No scream could capture the horror I felt. Slowly, I reached down and pressed my thumb against the wound, the warmth of my life coating my fingertips. Oh god… this was REAL. THIS WAS ALL REAL. I stumbled out of bed, falling onto the floor, their random singing turning into a singular, godforsaken chant. 

This has all happened before, this will all happen again. 

“No-no stop please- please stop” my voice hardly above a whisper. Not this again- I can’t- it will never end- I can’t go on anymore. I stumbled about in the dark until I felt my fingers grasp the edge of the window sill. On trembling limbs, I pulled myself up to it, shoving back the curtains to look out into the dark, bleak but star-studded night. The orchestra of delusions humming behind me, their melodies agreeing with my growing need. I brought my hands up to the glass, ready to push against it, for it to open, for me to fall 20 stories out of my apartment window and into oblivion-

It was locked. I faltered for a moment before a new wave of panic awashed my veins. I banged against the glass, trying to force it open, to break the lock. No. No- NO! There was no escaping them. I was trapped in here with the demons; the hideous, shark teeth monsters and I was trapped here alone. Where was he? Why wasn’t Rick here? 

-

You should have been alright. Rick had taken extra precautions as he knew he was leaving you on your own. He had thrown out every sharp object in the house, every pill available, all the ropes, bolt locked all the windows. Before he left he had even given you sleeping pills, which should knock you out for a few hours until he was back- but worry still pricked his mind. This venom was unpredictable, making the victim irrational and emotion. Sometimes, you were fine, it would seem like you were getting better, coping… but then you would relapse even worse than ever, plagued by hallucinations and suicidal thoughts. It infuriated him. He parked up his space ship and got into the lift. With a ding, the doors of the elevator opened to the 20th floor and that when he heard it. The screaming. 

“Fuck-” he shouted, dropping everything and rushing to the door. 

-

I crumpled to the ground, terrible visions of slaughter and violence dancing across my mind. Images of me, covered in blood, grinning from exhilaration as I stood over a pile of a thousand dead children. Images of me eating a lamb alive as it bleeped frantically from the excruciating pain. Images of me setting fire to a hospital, laughing as the people inside started screaming. This has all happened before, this will all happen again. No- I am not that person- I would never! THAT WAS NOT ME! IT W-asn’t wasn’t me… and the monster loomed over me, a shit eating grin tearing the skin around its mouth, salivating, my blood stained upon its teeth, dribble trickling down on me, making my skin crawl with disgust. And its intention was clear… it wanted revenge and it was going to taunt me until I lost all sanity- as clear as diamond crystals- terrify me, torture me, tear me apart. It wanted to see me suffer… and suddenly I caught my reflection in the mirror. Grey, dead skin pulled taunt against my skull, eyes sunken into sockets until they were just dots of black, mouth agape, revealing layers of maggot infested teeth. I screamed. The realisation shattering my mind into a billion fragments of glittering glass-

I was the monster… 

Suddenly, the bedroom door smashed open and there Rick stood, his tall stature silhouetted by the bright hallway light. His presence immediately silencing the voices, making the room fall into a toxic silence. I brought a bloody hand up to my face, shielding my eyes from the sudden brightness… A look of complete horror and shock contorted his familiar features. Pain glinting in his eyes. He staggered forward, taking me in, his chest rising and falling heavily. 

“(Y-y/n)" 

- 

The bedroom was like one from a horror movie; blood smeared along the floor and the walls, shimmering in the artificial sun. Prints of maroon and burgundy smudged against the glass from where you tried to force it open. But worst of all was you- 

Your wrist glistening with fresh blood that flowed down your arm, bite marks tearing it open. Shadowed eyes crazed and frantic, darting to and fro in a mad panic, terror still shining from the core of your being. And as Rick shifted his gaze, everything became crystal clear. Ruby smeared across your mouth and cheeks, specks of saliva dotting your clothes, the rich colours contrasting against your skin which had gone pale from blood loss. 

Obviously, he had seen you tear open your skin before when the delusions took hold; he was accustomed to the blood, but it had always been with an instrument- a knife, a pen, a sharp end of a folder. This time you had ripped open your life source… with your own bare teeth. 

"Fuck-” he rushed forward, his hands gasping around your body as he lifted you up. Your head resting against his cotton blue chest, vision glazing over. You didn’t resist as he moved you into the light, into the living room and sat you on the sofa. 

“I’m sorry, this was my fault, I shouldn’t have left you alone…” He said, his voice low but steady, soothing your head until you were sure you were safe. You look up to him, catching his eye, looking into his soul. “God-” he picked up his phone quickly dialling in Morty’s number, “Morty, I need you to come quickly. (Y-y/n)’s hurt really bad, they’re bleeding out-”

“Aw geez Rick, h-how did you let this happen? You- you- you know-”

“Don’t fucking lecture me Morty- its-it’s a code RED Morty, just- just come as quickly as you can and bring Summer!" 

Rick hung up and brought his attention back to you, quickly working to stop the bleeding and deal with your flesh wound. You groaned a little, head spinning off into the galaxies, as quickly as the earth twirls around its axis. And only one thing came clearly to you, one thing that was still tormenting your heart. 

"This will has all happened before, this will all happen again-” you muttered, letting the vibrations of it dance in the air like smoke. Letting it linger. Rick glanced at you, worry ageing him into an ancient being. 

“(Y/n)-" 

"Am I a bad person Rick? Did I do all those things they say I did?" 

He looked down at the white bandage wrapped tightly around your injury, his fingers brushing against the soft material.

"Am I a monster?" 

He flinched. It was all wrong… you were pure, and young and kind. Always had been. He had been the one to corrupt you, to destroy your morals, to disintegrate your virtue so that you were willing to help him. Manipulate your belief so that right was wrong, and nothing mattered. You were never the monster, because everything you ever did had always been for him. But he couldn’t bring himself to tell you that. 

“Shh baby, don’t-don’t think about it. It’s going to be okay…” His voice quiet, gentle almost. Calloused fingers wrapping tightly around your hand. Never letting go- not again- never again. Holding onto the faint pulse that drummed through your hand-

It faltered.

“STAY with me, promise you’ll stay with me.” His words suddenly surging with new energy, fear springing him to life as he grabbed your face to force your eyes to fixate solely on him.

“Promise ME!”

You stared at him, your thoughts a wild scatter of images and emotions- lost in haze that no one could fathom, not even you. Your eyes just a blank stare, like nothing that was happening had registered in your brain. But despite your condition, despite your disorientation, something momentarily pulled you back into focus. You recognised something that made your mind snap back in place- only for a second- Rick was crying…

And in that millisecond of sanity, of sudden rationalism, you managed to splutter the one truth that mattered the most.

“I promise.”

And then you were gone.  

Written by M.S.T

#rick and morty #rick and morty fanfiction #rick and morty fandom #rick sanchez #rick x reader #fanfiction #my writing #reader #reader insert #reader imagine #reader interactive #horror #angst #rick x reader fluff #rick x reader angst #rick x reader horror #rnm #rick/reader #rick sanchez imagine #rick sanchez imagines #fandom #morty #morty smith #gore #writing gore #rick sanchez x reader

[rakuraiwielder]

black hole eclipse: my orbit is the sun in the sky

White light, and a star reborn. V-route(ish).  

A Mystic Messenger Pokémon AU. Loosely based on Sun and Moon.

Also on AO3

Foreword:

i love pokemon ᕙ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ᕗ

*this is part from a massive Mysme’s Pokemon au I planned out prior to V-route concerning a purely platonic V/MC path. I’ll probably never release it fully, especially since the release of the SUMO sequels. But there are several close-loop scenes that I really love. I might write them all out one day, or come up with a completely different pokemon au idea and do that instead heh 

the MC has a nickname for plot reasons btw, but her real name is a mystery #spoilers: shes you aHA

character relationships are purposefully unspecified 

She thinks she sees him first, a sliver of white peering out of the alleyway as the procession passes. Even from this distance, he stood out from the ochre colours and bright splashes of everyone else, the glossy black of his jacket catching the fire’s light. Traditional music blasts through the streets, mixed with the constant shuttering of V’s handheld camera. The latter was humming under his breath, echoing the triumphant melody of the festivities that overtook all of Akala Island.

Someone had been crowned champion tonight.

A breeze blows, smelling of spice and heat. A man had started a chant in the crowd, singing a song that relates to their beloved Tapu. A chorus of roars follow; Tauros stamp their feet, Marowak slam their clubs into the earth, sharp bones catching green swirls of fire, and the people began the uproar anew. The edges of his hood shift, and suddenly Deneb sees his eyes. Two glints of swirling green, and this time it was impossible to hide the white shock that blankets his head.

The boy blinks at her, and she thinks she sees him say something. But the alleyway was too far away, her memory still fuzzy, and V-

V.

She turns back to look at him. The photographer was picking at the lens, blue eyes unusually bright and focused. Below them the dancers had started to circle, flower leis weaving gracefully through their hair. An Oricolo spins through them, standing poise in centre. Another series of clicks, and V pulls back, thumbs the buttons and changes the setting. He was all gentle precision and swift fingers now, stuck in the zone she sees mirrors hers whenever her partner growls in sync to the heartbeat pulsing in her veins.

So when the drums continue to its climax she slips away, sneakers skittering on uneven pebbles as she brushes past the surging crowd. It wouldn’t take very long. With any luck she would return before he notices she was gone. The smell of sweets fills her lungs as she nudges her way through a snaking queue. Children run pass her, the crunch of Malasadas sweet and hot in their mouths, all sugar, sugar, sugar and the memory of a cool day and Casteliacones and a flustered demeanour as the boy finishes his third cone and oh, oh she remembers now.

The ice cream boy.

Deneb stops, cranes her head to find him amidst the countless alleyways. She almost recoils when green eyes meet her gaze immediately, the boy staring blatantly as he watches her. Another blink fixated on her; this time she was close enough to see the upturn quirk of his lip before he pushes off the bricked wall and walks into the shadow.

“Hey!” The sound that leaves her mouth was lost to the tumultuous applause of a thousand hands and bells. Something smooth brushes her cheek; a Chimecho twitters heartily as it floats by. It tickled, and she resists the urge to rub the shivering skin as she stumbles into the gaping hole that led into the city’s backdoor maze.

The air was cooler here, untouched by the heat of tribal fires and warmth of the populace. Deneb pants, presses a hand to her heart as she slows down. Footsteps thud softly in the distance, a lone speck of clarity. A head turned back; green eyes illuminated from the dim light of the cloudless sky. The boy watches her follow before continuing down the path.

“Wait, I forgot to thank you!” Gold eyes furrowing in confusion, Deneb jogs after him. “I still owe you an ice cream, remember…?” He could hear her, she knows he must have. Shadows lengthen as the walls of the alleyway slopes downwards. Little squeaks sound from the edges; feet pattering, grass rustling. Even in the darkest parts of Heahea there was still a sprout of nature. She turns at the corner and finally sees him; standing in the centre of the path, back to her as he stares unseeingly at the winding road ahead.

Here the noises of the festival were muffled, trapped in a bubble that could not reach. Deneb presses forward, stopping just shy of a few feet; comfortable, comfortable, this was how they stood before-

“It’s you, isn’t it?” A beat of uncertain silence. Why wasn’t he talking?

Slowly the boy turns around, the soft green of his irises glowing in the dark. He was wearing a smile. Something else fuzzes at the edge of her mind; did he ever give a name?

“Um, hi?” Her hands clamber to do the regional greeting, clumsy fingers sticking together as her palms fall awkwardly to the side. The boy blinks again, the edges of his lip curling before he repeats the action, hands still in midst of forming an incomplete arc before he stops, arms hovering as he pauses, seemingly staring past her. A crooked positioning triggers a memory; and then she was reaching for his hand before she could even think it through. Ray, he said his name was R-

Their fingers touch. His smile curves, wobbling, and the illusion breaks, white shock turning blood red.

Fear stabs at Deneb when she stares at sharp fangs and feels sharp claws grazing her fingers. With widened eyes she stumbles away from the Zoroark; swallows the lump in her throat as her senses screamed in heightened suspicion. A soft grin follows her, clawed paws scraping cold stone. Someone breathes on the back of her ear, and Deneb freezes stiff.

Another hush exhale, and with a choked noise she spins around, breath hitching at the reflection of white hair and green slits. Her eyes dart back and forth, narrowing when she sees the edges of an amused smirk fade. Ray blinks, a crease in his brow as he pulls his hood down, and watches her with a curious tilt of his head.

“I wonder, what is it that he sees in you?” His eyes gazed over her, soft green looking faraway. They held none of the lightness she remembers, all vanilla sweet and kindness only that of a stranger could bestow. Deneb swallows, and does not answer.

It had been a mistake; -V was rubbing off on her, she knows it- she never should have followed.

“Why do you stay with him?”

The silence stretches further when she remains silent. Finally Ray looks at her, frowning minutely. She watches him watch her, sees his knowing glance meet hers once.

“You are afraid.” He smiles pityingly. “You don’t have to be.”

“I don’t understand.” She says, apprehensive. No, she truly does not, and yet her shoulders remain stiff. Behind her the Zoroark stands quiet, blue eyes watchful.

“Aren’t you just the least bit curious, Deneb?”

“I don’t know.” Something small darts through the shadows, causing them to turn their heads to it. Zoroark growls, eyes glinting, and the skittering doubles, the panicked steps of a frightened Pokémon fading into the night. “Should I be, Ray?” She tests it out again; a question, runs over the syllables of his name and sees the slight inclination of his head and his pleased expression as she remembers right.

There was something superficial about it; a name of warmth belonging to a boy only half-illuminated by wane moonlight. It was almost too quite; and something within Deneb lurches at the thought of it mirroring hers.

“I know a place where all your worries will just disappear. Wouldn’t you want that?” There was that knowing glint again; one she narrows her eyes at. Ray takes one step forward, the seams of his jacket swaying as it catches a draft, and holds a hand out.

“Wouldn’t you rather come to Paradise with me?”

Shadows dance by his feet, hiding part of his frame as he smiles. The green in his eyes glow; mint colour betraying earnestness. There was something bitterly ironic about it; that that flash of emotion was the sincerest thing she had seen from him since they first met. Slowly he advances, and Deneb flinches at the panic rising in her gut.

More scraping behind her; both trainer and Pokémon moving to cage her in. The faint light in the alleyway was barely enough to hide the curl of a palm from view. Ray blinks, shoulders easing as he nears- and Deneb moves.

A swipe of her hand in a sliver of a second causes a bright flash to blind the alleyway. She hears their surprised shouts in momentary confusion, but a moment was all she needed. A canine body breaks free from the Pokéball and slashes at the rippling forcefield, causing the shadows to dissipate. Mightyena snarls once, hurling forward, and then they were gone, lost to the alleyway and running towards the heat and noise.

When Ray opens his eyes he is alone, moonlight considerably brighter in the damp alleyway. Zoroark growls, baring teeth and ruffling its mane as it stares down the winding path. Only when he shakes his head did it relax, sniffing pointedly and turning back to the sky.

Green eyes stare back into the shadows contemplatively, a frown curling the edges of his mouth. She hadn’t accepted. There was a faint throbbing building in his head now, mixing with the unpleasant aftertaste on his tongue. He thinks it might be discontent, though he is not sure why.

The night feels like a loss to him, but the plan was still young, still early in motion. He will have plenty of chances, many more in the long scheme of things. His trusted ally will make sure of that. Still the tingling feeling persists as he turns and walks away from the echoes of singing cheers and steady drumbeats. His partner follows, but he barely notices. It was an odd thing; the very land itself coming alive under the blood of its children and a cacophony of noise. Not yet soiled by those who wanted to ruin it. A land still relatively untouched, still beautiful and at peace. He understands why Rika would want to protect it.

By the time he steps out of the city’s maze and onto soft grass the itching feeling was gone, the remnant of a memory from a time he was not yet called a beacon of light for others to follow. Claws nudge his shoulder gently beside him. Zoroark grunts, and Ray reaches out to pet its head until it purrs. One more thoughtful look back, green eyes catching the ochre glows in the distance, and then he moves, relentlessly forward.

He thinks of the lone star who had gotten away, and wonders what kind of ice cream he might get tomorrow.

x

A/N

Just like Ray isn’t Saeran’s real name, Deneb is not her real name. tfw all mentioned charas are not using their real names lmao. The title black hole eclipse comes from the dark type Z-move in Pokemon Sun and Moon (because mightyena and zoroark) im not that edgy in real life I promi s e-

There is a reason I choose Deneb as the nickname/mask for our nameless chara and its entirely because of a motif that is purposefully interpretable. ᕕ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ᕗ Feel free to tell me your thoughts and interpretations of it heheh-

Oddly enough this has a V-route vibe to it, but apart from switching “Unknown” to “Ray” (wao Saeran how many names are ya gonna have oy), this scene remains completely unchanged in the original ver. This was also the very first scene concept I came up with (a confrontation with Unknown), and still remains one of the most powerful transition close-looped scenes I really liked in the original au drafts.

(if anyone’s curious I start drafting early Jan17. you clearly saw where all my motivations went LOL)

anyways i love pokemon so much gimme a good story where you clearly see pokemon and people co-existing and co-sharing the spotlight that is more than just within a battle or a matching making force in crossover au fics and you have my heart

#mystic messenger #unknown mystic messenger #ray mystic messenger #saeran choi #v mystic messenger #cheritz #pokemon #pokemon au #writing #Property of the Rakurai #can you believe i was blasting disney's pocahontas ost while doing this