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waterchestnut123 · 5 years

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CHAPTER 1 / The Peculiar Perils of Straw Hat Parties

Common commentary throughout the 5 seas held that Straw Hat parties were notoriously wild. This is something that Trafalgar Law, as well as the rest of his crew, are also learning first hand. Not that Law particularly feels like partying; after Dressrosa, the Heart Pirates Captain has a little soul-searching he’d like to attend to. But one tends to become… drawn in, to certain things around Luffy—regardless of one’s plans or intentions. This is how Law finds himself developing an unlikely and unexpected friendship with his ally’s navigator—and how that friendship, much like Luffy’s parties, grows far beyond his intentions.

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Chapter 1: More Than Meets The Eye

Chapter Rating: T Warnings: Mentions of canonical character death, sexually suggestive content

Thinking back on her first impressions of him atop that bleak, snowy hillside on Punk Hazard, she would have laughed at anyone suggesting the captain of the heart pirates was anything more than a cunning sadist with hidden malicious intent; after all, one manipulator knows another. She had him pegged the moment she met him: sharp eyes belying a calculating brilliance beneath his cool exterior, who knew the power of few words and subtle suggestion. He was a shichibukai—and she never had met one she liked, with a sizable bounty to match her estimation of his dangerousness. Yes, she had him pegged; or at least, she thought she did.

Had anyone dared to inform her then of how she herself would come to view him in but a few months time—as not merely a valued ally and friend, but a lover, she would have choked on her own spit.

But a lot can happen in a few months time; this, Nami would come to learn with startling clarity. And perhaps she shouldn’t have been so surprised. After all, during Straw Hat parties, anything was possible.

—:—:—:—

“I think I see it! I think I see it!” Luffy hollered eagerly from the crow’s nest, arms already stretching to swing from the mast before he’d even finished speaking. Nami smiled, glancing down at the jittering vivre card in her palm before murmuring to Franky who stood beside her at the helm.

“Seven degrees starboard should bring us alongside them.”

“Aye aye!” he responded with a grin, turning the wheel with slight, precise movements.

Glancing out at calm water, she could see in the distance the telltale swell amidst the usual ocean waves as the Polar Tang began to near the surface. Glancing briefly up at the sun—it looked to be around 4:30 in the afternoon, she estimated it would be about ten minutes before they reached their ally’s ship. Though he tried to hide it, she could tell he was eager to be reunited with his crew—especially after the unanticipated events on Dressrosa.

With clear skies and smooth waters, their allies located and no enemies in sight, it seemed they would finally have a bit of a respite—and about damn time.

She walked to the railing, quickly scanning the deck for her crew mates. Usopp sat fishing off the starboard side, animatedly telling one of his tall tales to an enraptured Chopper, and Zoro hollered insults at Sanji from beneath one of the deck trees—just the men she needed.

“Oi, Usopp! Zoro!” As both men turned to her, she gestured above her. “Start raising the sails!”

Before they could voice protestations she turned her attention to Law who sat quietly against the fore-mast, his Nodachi resting against his shoulder—a comparatively calm presence in an otherwise chaotic array of personalities staggered about the deck.

“Ten minutes ‘till we reach your crew, Torao.”

He tilted his head back to look up at her, golden eyes bright beneath the shadowed brim of his hat as he smiled—or, well, his version of a smile.

“Thank you, Nami-ya.”

She had to admit, It was nice to have someone with some semblance of manners on board. She nodded with a small smile, returning her attention to the vivre card and the rolling ocean waves.

—:—:—:—

“Incoming!”

Franky’s shouted warning was followed by a loud thunk as the gangplank fell onto the deck of the Polar Tang, connecting the two ships.

“Oi, oi, easy on the paint Robo-ya!”

However Law’s protestation was quickly drowned out by the stampeding footsteps of his crew, Bepo well in the lead as he ran full-pelt across the gang plank towards him.

“Captaaaaain! I’m going to hug you!”

With little ceremony the bear launched himself at a wide-eyed Law, who staggered back at the unexpected force. Wrapping around his captain’s upper half, the heart pirates navigator gleefully indulged in what couldn’t be more appropriately termed a bear hug.

It was, if she had to put a word to it, cute to see the way Law reacted to the show of affection. It was subtle—likely by intention if she knew him at all, which she liked to think she’d come to at least a little; but Nami was well-versed in subtlety even if most of the rest of the crew seemed incapable of comprehending the meaning of the word. His head tilted down just a bit to hide the glimmer in his eyes, and a small smile tugged insistently at the corners of his lips, his posture relaxing easily into the bear’s fuzzy embrace. She leaned forward on the railing, smiling.

“Shishishi!” Luffy’s laughter echoed from the forecastle deck as he launched himself towards Law and his congregating crew.

“We should celebrate! Oi! Sanji! Make everyone some meat!”

Luffy’s sudden declaration startled her out of her amusement over Law’s covert huggle session with Bepo. She straightened, her eyes darting to Sanji—usually a voice of reason, who was instead walking towards the kitchen. Anxiously, she returned her attention to her own captain.

“Wait, Luffy! Don’t you think we should maybe dock at an island or something first?! We’re out in the middle of the sea and this is the new world—the conditions could turn on us at any moment.”

He turned to smile up at her without a trace of concern, draping his arms easily over a smiling Bepo and a frowning Law who stared at the offending hand but made no move to remove it.

“It’ll be fine, Nami! Who knows how long it would take to find an island; and besides, you’ll know if the weather changes before we need to do anything about it—you always do!”

She felt her ire flare at his statement. He was absolutely right, of course—but his shameless flattery did little to minimize the fact that he had openly admitted he was relying on her to keep an eye out for danger while the rest of the two crews partied. She couldn’t kick Zoro’s ass at a drinking contest (and fleece him for all he was worth while she was at it) if she had to be the responsible one! Responsible people were sober!

“Baka!” she shouted from the railing, leaning over it further in her anger, “You don’t get to have fun while I’m stuck keeping your sorry asses safe!”

Luffy simply laughed, releasing both Bepo and Law. “It’ll be fine, Nami! This is a celebration so you should have fun, too!” He then turned towards the kitchen, stretching his arms for the railing as he shouted again. “Oi! Sanji! Meat!”

“I’m already on it, you rubber idiot! Be patient!”

“Yohohoho!” Brook laughed from the swing, standing and pulling out his violin. “Shall I play something for the occasion?”

“Suuuuperrr!”

Nami sighed, leaning against the railing with a hand to her temple. As she glanced out at the deck with a resigned huff—she well knew when she was beaten with her crew, she felt eyes on her. Following the sensation, she found Law gazing up at her display of exasperation with a hint of amusement. He readjusted his nodachi on his shoulder, one golden eye twinkling beneath the brim of his hat as he smirked and gave the smallest of shrugs, before turning to follow an excited Bepo into the kitchen. She couldn’t help but feel a little heartened. At least someone else recognized the inconvenience, even if it wasn’t anyone on her nutty crew.

—:—:—:—

The sun was just beginning to set, amber light turning the blue water seafoam green as it hovered above the horizon. The party had just begun to get underway, and Law was on his third mug of ale. Limbs loose and a rare smile on his face, he gazed out at the water from the solitude of the upper aft deck. The sweet smell of citrus blossoms danced in the air with the mouthwatering tang of Sanji’s shish-kabobs, piped up to the deck from the kitchen chimney not far from where he leaned against the mast.

He felt… peaceful; free. It wasn’t a feeling he was familiar with, nor one that he yet trusted, but it was nonetheless welcome. So much of his life had been dedicated to seeking vengeance against Doflamingo—building his crew, honing his skills, training and preparing and planning; until that vengeance had been achieved, he hadn’t realized how much he had pushed aside, the simple pleasures he had ignored or left unnoticed—the desires and whims he refused to allow himself.

Like watching the sunset and enjoying the smell of citrus blossoms.

Though there was a small, instinctually protective part of himself that refused to believe Doflamingo was really, truly dealt with, with the Shichibukai’s imprisonment a tremendous weight the likes of which he hadn’t fully comprehended had lifted from his shoulders—and for the first time in over a decade he felt able breathe deeply. His world, once black and white and grey—life and death and suffering, had been suffused with color. Everything was just a little bit brighter; sounds were sharper, smells were stronger…

From the lawn deck, he heard the lilting laugh of the Straw hat navigator rise above the chatter of their two crews. Frowning down at the tightness forming in his pants, he shifted uncomfortably.

Other things seemed to be… stronger, as well.

He’d never given his sex drive much consideration over the course of his life. Sure he’d had the occasional liaison, but his physical desires had never been much of a preoccupation. It was yet another thing he’d come to notice these past few weeks—something that his fixation on vengeance had repressed over the course of years; now that his decades-long plan had finally come to fruition, his mind suddenly found itself wholly unoccupied, and quite open to new stimulus.

It was in the wake of this realization that he, for the first time really, noticed how little the Straw hats’ navigator actually wore.

While the archeologist also tended to prefer less fabric to more, she was nowhere near as daring as Nami. Sure, he had been aware of this fact for quite some time—in concept. On Punk Hazard she’d been wearing nothing more than a bikini top and jeans, and in Dressrosa she’d reduced those jeans to very short shorts. But it hadn’t quite… registered, in some higher part of his brain, all he skin left exposed.

And good God what she left exposed…

Objectively he recognized that she was attractive; she was all long legs and full breasts, with a narrow waist and bright eyes… Her wanted poster was a favorite among pirates and marines alike, something he’d noted with some amusement when he’d crossed the Navy’s path as a Shichibukai. But like with her attire (or lack thereof), he hadn’t quite… registered, how striking she really was, until a few weeks ago.

It had made life aboard the Sunny a bit more trying in a way he hadn’t been expecting. He’d grown accustomed to Luffy’s… exuberance, grown familiar with Sanji and Zoro’s constant bickering, the small explosions originating from Usopp’s factory. All things considered, he rather felt he’d adjusted quite well to the overall lunacy of Mugiwara’s crew. His gratitude for their (albeit unexpected) loyalty on Dressrosa certainly aided his patience.

But he had not anticipated, nor had he been prepared for the wholehearted return of his sex drive after recovering from his injuries aboard Bartolomeo’s ship.

He quietly sighed, leaning against the main mast as he watched the sun slowly sink towards the water. In the larger scheme of things, it was a relatively small price to pay. He had some catching up to do, perhaps, once they reached a habited island; find some woman to charm into his bed for the night (or several) and relieve the tension his own efforts failed to. Until then he’d just have to suffer through Nami’s undersized wardrobe. Subconciously he rubbed his right arm; he’d been through far worse, after all.

The sun was beginning to ripple and waver as Law breathed in the crisp ocean air, savoring the silence of the deck. The party would get into full swing soon enough, he was sure, and he aimed to get a little peace before the ruckus was inescapable. He lifted his mug to his lips, swallowing back the remaining ale in his mug. As he closed his eyes, basking in the warm amber light, the squeak of the observation room door caused him to creak an eye open and glance towards the source of the noise.

“Oh! Hey Torao, I didn’t think anyone was up here,” Nami said with a smile, shutting the door behind her with one foot. She had a basket on one arm and shears in the other and, he couldn’t help but gratefully notice, wore a thigh-length sweater—far more than she’d been wearing earlier in the afternoon.

“Nami-ya,” he acknowledged before returning his gaze to the sea, debating the pro’s and cons of descending into the commotion of the lower decks to refill his mug.

She walked towards him—or rather, towards her trees which occupied the space against the other side of the mast.

“Here.”

Without preamble she thrust her basket at him, beckoning him to her trees as she knelt before them. “Since you’re just standing there, help me with this real quick—I want to finish before the sun goes down and I’ll work faster with two hands.”

Perhaps it was the foreign feeling of calm aboard the Sunny making him unusually compliant—refusal only briefly crossed his mind, but he did as instructed. Standing next to her with the basket in hand, he watched as she thoughtfully pruned the first tree, inspecting each mikan carefully and gently placing the ripe ones in the basket.

“You know there are easier ways to fend off scurvy. You don’t have to keep live citrus trees on your ship.”

“That’s not why I keep them,” she answered smoothly without turning from her task, gently squeezing a mikan between her fingers before deeming it ready and giving it a gentle tug. She then turned thoughtful, pausing in her task before adding, “Well, not the primary reason anyway.”

He eyed her a moment as she moved to the next tree, placing her clippings in a bin beside the small grove.

“Then why do you keep them?”

She smiled softly as she reached for the next fruit, rubbing a smudge of dirt from it tenderly before answering.

“Because they’re from my mother’s grove. A little souvenir of home.”

“You’re from east blue, right?” he asked, though he felt he already knew the answer. Mikans were a common export from that ocean.

She hummed in response. “Bellemére—my mother, ran an orchard, where she raised my sister and I until I was ten. Best Mikans in all of the Conomi islands,” she boasted proudly.

Law eyed her as she carefully parted the tree’s branches to reach a more hidden fruit.

“Why did you leave then?”

He didn’t know why he was asking, but curiosity and boredom encouraged his curiosity.

She stilled, fingertips gently brushing a particularly broad leaf as she gazed at it, eyes faraway. It was several moments before she answered.

“She was killed; and I was kidnapped and forced into a pirate crew.” She was quiet a moment before adding with a small laugh, “It’s kind of how I met Luffy, actually.”

Law’s brow furrowed and he eyed her closely as she resumed her task, but did not respond. As he was learning from his time aboard the Sunny, all of the Straw Hats had more to them than met the eye—Nami was no exception. A pirate at ten years old… he could certainly relate.

She finished her pruning in silence, though it was a peaceful silence. Law’s eyes once more navigated out to the sunset, where the bright orange orb was meeting with the water, mind briefly returning to his earlier thoughts—tumbling and drifting much like the waves.

Doflamingo was gone…

When finally she stood, he extended the basket wordlessly and she took it with a smile, her eyes on him uncomfortably analytical. She placed her shears carefully beside the ripe fruit before returning her gaze to him, then following his eyes out to sea.

“It’s strange, isn’t it? Like there’s a little part of you that refuses to believe you’re really free.”

Her voice was soft, her eyes kind, yet despite that Law felt himself bristle at how easily she had seen through him.

“And what makes you say that, Nami-ya?” he inquired guardedly.

She hummed quietly, tilting her head at him with a small knowing smile as she answered.

“Because I felt the same way when Luffy saved me.”

She didn’t wait for a response, merely turned and walked towards the door with her hand raised behind her.

“Thanks for the help.”

Then, she disappeared into the library.

Law stared at the door for several minutes, not quite sure what to make of her words—or her, for that matter. She was the one member of the crew he’d had little time to get to know personally, and had perhaps dismissed the most readily. But there was quite a bit more to Nami than met the eye. She was far more perceptive than he gave her credit, for one; and he was seeing more and more how foolish that dismissal was.

He returned his gaze to the sea. The sun was now half hidden by the horizon, and he watched the rest slowly sink beneath the waves as he let his thoughts turn. She wasn’t wrong; Doflamingo had haunted him his entire adult life. Now he was gone, wrapped in twice his weight in seastone chains at the bottom of Impel Down. It was hard to believe that someone who had been such an omnipresent and looming specter could truly be gone, though It was a change he was happy to try and adjust to.

It did, however, make him wonder about her own life, and what her careful words had only hinted at. He’d had no idea she’d been a pirate before joining Luffy—for it had been on his crew that she’d gained notoriety, and it made him wonder: who was Cat Thief Nami before she was the navigator on a Supernova’s crew?

He heard her reappear on the lower decks a few minutes later, the assaulting shouts of Luffy pulling him from his thoughts.

“Oi, Nami! Have you seen Torao?!”

Law frowned. He had sought refuge on the furthest deck from the festivities specifically because he wanted some distance before the party became inescapable, hoping that the rest of his crew would be enough of a distraction for the other captain. Apparently not. He let out a sigh, pulling away from the mast as he made for the door—and another hiding spot—but stopped when he heard her response.

“Haven’t seen him,” she responded casually. “Have you checked the sub?”

He stilled, a smile growing before he let himself relax against the mast again. He uttered a silent ‘thank you’ before turning his gaze up to the darkening sky. Yes, Cat Thief Nami was full of surprises.

Stars were just starting to emerge, and he decided he’d enjoy what extra time she had bought him. Straw hat would find him soon enough, and besides, he would need to head down there eventually if he wanted to refill his mug. By the sounds of the growing laughter and the noodling of a guitar—Brook, no doubt—the party was just getting started; and he knew, soon enough, he’d be swept up into the pace of the straw hats—whether he wanted to or not.

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tacittherapist · 4 years

Text

We open on a familiar scene: Rose perusing media on her laptop. Yes, she’s doing the narration thing and concurrently performing the actions described within the narration. Don’t judge her. If a certain pointy-spectacled too-much-hairspray anime blowhard can do it, so can a depressed goth nerd. Some semblance of rain pours outside: a faint cloud of cosmic dust they’re passing through pelts her windows with sawdust-sized particles. Her eyes glaze over as she goes through her old chat logs.

tacitTherapist [TT] started trolling carcinoGenetics [CG].

TT: Karkat. Let’s talk. I know you have time because I’m currently watching you sitting on a couch in the aftermath of yet another homoerotic tussle with Dave.

CG: ‘HOMOEROTIC’ YET AGAIN MEANS NOTHING HERE YOU RUSTPANNED SHITWEASEL.

TT: I’ve been thinking lately.

CG: OH, REALLY? WOW!! INCREDIBLE LALONDE, YOU MIGHT BE ONTO SOMETHING THERE.

TT: Don’t interrupt me. I’ve been thinking about our situation.

CG: WHAT DO YOU MEAN ‘OUR SITUATION?’ ‘OUR SITUATION’ AS IN HOW THIS ENTIRE FUCKING STRUCTURE IS IN LITERAL AND METAPHORICAL SHAMBLES?

CG: LET’S PUT ASIDE THE NEAR CONSTANT ANTAGONIZING BY DAVE’S PREPUBESCENT THINLY-VEILED WAILS FOR HELP CLEANING UP HIS OWN OVERFLOWING SPIRITUAL WASTEPANTS AND PERHAPS ADDRESS THE FACT THAT YOU AND MARYAM HAVEN’T SPOKEN FOR OVER THE EQUIVALENT OF SEVERAL WEEKS?

CG: NOT TO MENTION TEREZI IS STILL MISSING, ALONG WITH A SMALL PORTION OF OUR EVER DWINDLING RATIONS THAT YOU POMPOUS GODTIER SHITSTAINS APPARENTLY STILL PILFER DESPITE NOT EVER NEEDING TO EAT.

CG: OH, AND THERE’S A HOMICIDAL CLOWN LOOSE IN THE VENTS. THERE’S THAT TOO.

TT: Yes, all of those things are items I considered.

CG: OH GREAT. FUCKING GREAT. LET ME GUESS, YOU’VE CONJURED ANOTHER CRACKPAN SCHEME TO SOMEHOW MAGICALLY -- SORRY, ‘MAJJJJJJYYYYKLY’ WHISK ALL OF THIS SHIT AWAY?

TT: No. Our situation is bleak, Karkat.

CG: COLOR ME FUCKING SURPRISED. OUR SITUATION IS BLEAK? HOLY SHIT LALONDE, I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS IS WHAT YOU SPENT DAYS IN ISOLATION FORMULATING IN THAT ALL-SEEING MIND OF YOURS.

TT: I do have a proposition. And if you’d be kind enough to quit hammering your clumsy sausage fingers upon that poor phone for even a second, you might even get something from this conversation.

CG: ...

TT: Ellipses wholly unnecessary Karkat. Take your fingers off the buttons.

TT: I have a plan to alleviate our circumstances. It’s risky, but better than sitting here for another few years.

TT: Yes, I know you use sweeps and I’m a totalitarian bigot for not using it here.

CG: YOU PREEMPTIVELY ADDRESSING IT DOESN’T MAKE IT LESS TRUE.

TT: Karkat. Fingers off the buttons or I magically disassemble your phone again, and this time I won’t help you reinstall the macro you use specifically to hide Dave’s long rambling text walls about the economy.

TT: Now then, I haven’t received a vision in several months. I can only presume this means the game is testing my mettle by withholding this power from me.

TT: After weighing the factors behind our predicament, I’ve ascertained that there are two latent states to our position, and the game in general.

TT: Moving and stillness. There exist no states outside of those two. Both a successful and a doomed session move; they may only take on the states of ‘successful’ and ‘doomed’ after having progressed to their ultimate conclusion, after all. A null session, by contrast, stands still. Forever locked into a state that is neither successful nor doomed.

TT: If we were to translate our position into one of these two states, we would be null. This is arguably worse than a doomed session, as demonstrated by the slow malaise gradually overtaking everyone’s moods for the past few months.

TT: Obviously we missed our target somehow. Whether by some small deviation in our course, or a slight miscalculation by Sollux, we are definitely not reunited with Jade and John, who were supposed to have crossed paths with us some months ago.

TT: So instead of sitting here, waiting for one of us to miraculously drift into the other, I propose we recalculate our trajectory.

CG: HOW. IF YOU HAVEN’T NOTICED, SOLLUX FUCKED OFF TO TRAIPSE ABOUT THE AFTERLIFE OR AFTER HALFLIFE OR WHATEVER THE FUCK KIND OF NOT DEATH NOT LIFE THING HE HAS GOING ON WITH MEGIDO. SO WE’RE A LITTLE SHORT ON TELEKINETIC POWERS TO GIVE US ANOTHER PUSH.

TT: Incredibly telling that you refer to everyone by first name when you hold more affection for them over everyone else. It’s really not subtle here, Karkat.

CG: FUCK YOU.

TT: Yes, we no longer have psychic powers at our disposals. But I’ve done some detailed calculations on our current path and where we need to be.

TT: There are a number of small cosmic bodies about to pass us. If we simply jump onto one in particular, we should be able to correct our course and meet up with the others to get our session restarted.

CG: IS THAT WHY ALL OUR NAPKINS HAD INANE CLUCKSCRATCH ON THEM?

TT: Yes, but no more inane chickenscratch than all the penises you and Dave drew on them.

CG: OBVIOUSLY YOU KNOW I CAN’T GO ALONG WITH THIS.

TT: Why not?

CG: WELL FIRST, I’M NOT ABOUT TO TRUST NAPKIN MATH. SECOND, IF THIS ISN’T A ONE HUNDRED FUCKING PERCENT CONFIRMED THEORY, I WON’T CHANCE OUR MORTAL LIVES ON A HUNCH THAT YOU GODTIER ASSHOLES FIGURED MIGHT HELP US STARVE TO DEATH EVEN FASTER.

TT: Dave has no hand in this. You’re the first person I’m telling.

CG: WAIT, WHY?

TT: Because I need you to get everyone on board. You’re still the de-facto leader.

CG: THAT’S A LOAD OF HORSESHIT AND YOU KNOW IT.

TT: Your continued denial of this simple fact is more evidence to the contrary.

CG: SO WHAT? YOU WANT ME TO SINCERELY PEDDLE THIS IDEA THAT WE JUST HOP OFF OUR HOME FOR THE PAST TWO SWEEPS BANKING ON THE HOPE THAT WE JUST MEET UP WITH EGBERT AND HARLEY?

TT: Well yes, but I was thinking you’d make it a bit more palatable to everyone else. That’s more your specialty than mine.

CG: YOU REALLY HAVE TO BE FUCKING WITH ME RIGHT NOW. ABSOLUTELY FUCKING WITH ME. THE VERBAL DIARRHEA COMING OUT OF YOUR MOUTH RIGHT NOW CANNOT BE GENUINE.

TT: We’re both typing on phones right now Karkat.

CG: YOU KNOW WHAT I FUCKING MEAN, ASSHOLE. IF YOU CAN’T EVEN CONVINCE ME THIS WILL WORK, WHAT MAKES YOU THINK I CAN CONVINCE EVERYONE ELSE IT WILL? YOU’RE REALLY NOT GIVING ME THE HARD SALE HERE.

TT: I know this, but please just hear me out. Our food will run out in three weeks at most, and that’s if both Dave and I curb the hunger pangs with something else to distract us. Yes, we won’t die, but you will likely suffer more antagonizing at the hands of a Hungry Dave.

CG: NEVER. *EVER*. ****EVER****. CAPITALIZE HUNGRY BEFORE DAVE LIKE THAT EVER AGAIN.

TT: Deal. On the condition you get everyone else on board.

CG: NO DEAL. FUCK YOU AND FUCK THIS DEAL. YOUR PLAN IS A FAT LOAD OF SHIT AND I REFUSE TO EVEN CONSIDER THIS A LEGITIMATE CONVERSATION GIVEN YOU’VE BEEN HOLDING ME AT METAPHORICAL GUNPOINT THIS ENTIRE TIME. I DON’T MAKE DEALS WITH TERRORISTS, LALONDE.

TT: If you could drop the performative morality shtick Dave has been foisting on you for just a moment, what exactly could I say to change your mind? Perhaps you’ll feel differently in two weeks when we’re down to our last few loaves of alchemized bread?

CG: ...

TT: Tell me, does a large ‘JUST’ or ‘HEROIC’ sign pop up when mortals die? I’ve personally never seen it before, but I imagine of the four of your twelve original session remaining, at least one of you must have seen a non-ascended death. Do you think starvation counts as just or heroic? I mean, Dave and I are precluded because the ascension really did remove our need to eat, but maybe if we find one of your quest beds on this desolate laboratory, we might be able to spare at least one of you from eating the others in desperation.

CG: FINE. FUCKING FINE. YOU’VE TWISTED MY ARM. YES, METAPHORICALLY, SHUT THE FUCK UP. I’LL MAKE A DEAL.

TT: Good. Your terms?

CG: YOU HAVE TO GET MARYAM ON BOARD FIRST. IF YOU CAN DO THAT, I’LL TAKE CARE OF CONVINCING THE OTHERS.

tacitTherapist [TT] has stopped trolling carcinoGenetics [CG].

carcinoGenetics [CG started trolling tacitTherapist [TT].

CG: HEY. WHAT THE FUCK?

TT: My finger slipped.

CG: NO IT DID NOT YOU AGGRANDIZING FUCKHOLE.

TT: Did you just call me a ‘fuckhole’?

CG: I’M TIRED AND HUNGRY, SHUT THE FUCK UP.

CG: WHY DID YOU ABRUPTLY CLOSE THE WINDOW.

TT: I don’t know if I can convince Kanaya.

CG: WHY’S THAT? THIS IS THE PERFECT FUCKING CHANCE FOR YOU TWO TO FINALLY TALK. I THOUGHT THIS WOULD ACTUALLY BE EASY FOR YOU.

TT: It’s not that simple.

CG: OHHH WELL EXCUSE ME FOR GETTING MYSELF ENTANGLED IN THIS COMPLEX HUMAN MATING RITUAL. YOU HAVE TO FORGIVE ME IF I JUST MAKE SNIPPY REMARKS EVERY CHANCE I GET WITH CONTEXTLESS DESCRIPTORS THAT ARBITRARILY DESCRIBE YOUR GENDERS.

TT: It’s just not a good time.

CG: HOLY SHIT. YOU THINK IT’S NOT A GOOD TIME? REALLY? WELL I GUESS WE’VE ALL JUST BEEN PLAY ACTING A FOOD AND GRIST SHORTAGE FOR THE PAST FEW WEEKS. HA HA, WHAT A FUNNY AND ELABORATE PRANK WE’VE ALL BEEN PLAYING ON OURSELVES THIS ENTIRE FUCKING TIME.

TT: I mean it’s not a good time to bring this up with her. I’m still sorting out where I stand with her and how I should approach this.

CG: FOR ALL THE “”““CALCULATIONS”“““ YOU JUST PULLED ON ME JUST MOMENTS AGO, SUDDENLY YOU CAN’T NAVIGATE YOUR OWN STUPID IDIOT EMOTIONS?

CG: WOW. JUST WOW. YOU KNOW, DESPITE HER TOTALLY BONEHEADED APPROACH TO VIRTUALLY *EVERYTHING* AT LEAST JADE KNEW HOW TO TACKLE THINGS HEAD-ON. MAYBE WE DO NEED HER HERE RIGHT NOW, IN SOME TWISTED CATCH-22 MOBIUS DOUBLE REACH AROUND AS ALWAYS.

TT: I can convince Dave.

CG: SO CAN A BOTTLE OF FUCKING CIDER.

TT: I mean that as a counter offer. If I convince Dave, you convince the others.

CG: NO DEAL. NOW THE FOOT COVERING IS ON THE OTHER LEGSTUMP, EH LALONDE?

TT: You just used ‘foot’ in the same sentence as ‘legstump’.

CG: YEAH AND I’LL SHOVE MINE STRAIGHT UP YOUR POLYESTER-SWADDLED ASS IF YOU TRY ANY MORE NEGOTIATION. THIS IS MY ULTIMATUM. IF YOU REALLY BELIEVE IN THIS PLAN OF YOURS, IT HAS TO AT LEAST HOLD CONVICTION STRONGER THAN YOUR REFUSAL TO FACE YOUR OWN EMOTIONAL TURMOIL WITH MARYAM.

CG: GET KANAYA ON YOUR SIDE, OR NO DEAL. FINAL OFFER.

TT: ...

TT: Fine. I’ll see what I can do.

CG: GOOD LUCK. SINCERELY THOUGH, LET ME KNOW HOW IT GOES.

TT: Thanks. I told Dave you were talking shit just now, by the way. You should make yourself scarce unless you want an hour-long lecture about how gossip is destroying society and by extension the economy.

CG: FUCK YOU. BYE.

carcinoGenetics [CG has stopped trolling tacitTherapist [TT].

#long post #pesterlogs

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modernart2012 · 6 years

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Fae by Night (Dance the Starlight Stage)

@sumigakure Halloween Event 2017

12am: Masquerade

Word Count: 2039

Rating: T (for safety)

WARNING SPOILER FOR A WIP THAT INFLUENCES THIS FIC HEAVILY. IF YOU DON’T WANT THAT FIC SPOILED, SKIP THIS FIC.

On AO3

It is strange to realize certain rules don't apply to you when you're not precisely what you always thought you were. There are things he has no name for, no scope to even recognize, bowing to him as he passes into Underhill, skittering out of the way and murmuring obsequious greetings. Any one else would be cowering inside, reciting the rules drilled into them over and over again in their heads, trying to get out alive.

A pale hand touches his briefly, and he catches the sly glance of golden eyes, the subtle twitch of a mouth corner. Ah. Yes. “Dearheart. Do stop thinking. It's not everyday I get to go Underhill under the protection of their Fair Lady and I'd like to enjoy myself.” Still, their hands intertwine like two halves made whole, a statement and a reassurance both.

Ah, his companion is shrewd. Sakumo wishes he could run his hands over the dramatic sweep of his partner’s cheeks, cup Orochimaru’s face and know that of all the dangerous things around them he has perhaps the most dangerous bar none in the cradle of his palm. But Sakumo had already been swatted at once tonight over nearly upending the carefully applied domino on Orochimaru’s face, for the one magically stuck to his own. Still.

It’s easy enough to lift their joined hands and brush a kiss over Orochimaru’s knuckles, “Whatever you wish, Gorgeous.”

A quickly snuffed snort, inelegant in stark contrast to the velvety robes draped elegantly over Orochimaru’s lithe form. “That one - that one is a definite no. Try again.”

He smiles, eyes crinkling like they hadn’t for so long. “Yes Dear.” Instead of waiting for the fond reprimand, he pushes past the hanging moss and leads them into the Fair Lady’s Court proper. It’s a mad whirl of color, scent, smell, overwhelming in the way that his blood sings , his ears prick, and his teeth sharpen in response. It feels like coming home, but a home Sakumo has never known to miss, a home that would have eaten him alive had he known it before his majority. He stumbles as his son glomps into him, nearly taking down Orochimaru with them.

“Wolfling.” That tone is unmistakable, a confluence of contradictions. Cold, yet warm, stately and precise and yet, casual and loose with affection. To this day, Sakumo has no idea if the Fair Lady means him or his son, or just lumps them both together until Kakashi fully manifests.

“Lady,” Sakumo covers his bases and bows deeply. He’s treated to the sense-sound of tinkling wind chimes that passes as the Fair Lady’s laugh, the way it slowly coils around him and soothes.

“Sakumo, my child. I am terribly happy that you came.” Her unnaturally cold hands lift his head before touching their foreheads together in greeting, inhaling deeply. The Fair Lady is terrifyingly beautiful, but he can see where he got bits a pieces of his looks, places where he and his son both originated from in her face. “And you brought your consort. Be welcome, Snake-souled Orochimaru, kin of my kin.” She touches her forehead to his as well, subtly rubbing her wrists against his neck, making him smell a little more like the wild-sunlight-sprint that Sakumo knows marks him and Kakashi as blood-related, marks the Fair Lady too.

Orochimaru’s face blanks faster than anyone not looking for it would catch, before schooling itself into a semblance of Tsunade-social. “By your grace, Lady, so mote it be.” It’s as close as either of them can figure towards a ‘thank you’ here in the Underhill. She smiles, and it is blinding, before offering Orochimaru her arm. There is nothing to do but accept and trail along after her. Kakashi, who has been staying Underhill until his magic stops running amok, stays close to their sides as they walk further into the festivities roiling through the clear night. Smart, since he still smells human enough that the more foolish revelers might be tempted to do something unwise, even though the not-human smell on him is dangerous enough to make anyone with a functioning brain think twice about whatever they were thinking about.

They stop at the Lady’s dais, filled with her fluttering attendants, more kinds of Fae dressed in gossamer thin dresses in every color of the rainbow. It itches at the back of his mind, that these twigs titter and fawn and act like prey, like things he should stalk and chase and run to ground and rip apart, but he ignores the urge. These were the Fair Lady’s handmaidens after all, always more than meets the eye. Now that he was looking for it, he can parse out the hidden signs - the 47 point rank of antlers one Fae woman wears like a stole, the bear teeth and claws that encircle another’s throat and arm, the delicate arch of pommels rising up from the bodice of yet another cleverly hidden as boning. All Huntresses who followed their captain when she ascended the throne. The Fair Lady waves her hand lazily, hidden from the view of those not in her inner most circle, and they leave en masse. Structured to look as though there was a unity of mind with the Lady, to strike fear and respect into the other Fae. It’s a pointed reminder that Underhill is rife with struggle, still fresh with upheaval. Sakumo is glad for the Huntresses wearing facades along with their innocuous masks.

The Fair Lady stands in front of the massive tangle of antlers and claws and pelts, the one that passes for her throne, the one she built with her own two hands still covered in the blood of the last Fair Lady, and a hush falls over the assembled crowd. The Lady sings then, something High Court that jangles across Sakumo’s nerves and has Kakashi curling and uncurling his hands futilely, shifting the features visible above his lower face mask closer and closer to inhuman. It’s a rush that leaves them both ansty for something Sakumo has no name for and cannot even begin to describe. She finally finishes, the assembly churning with potential energy, wild and unchecked and buzzing with life, “Be merry, all!” A hearty cheer, then hidden musicians strike up a hauntingly unearthly song. There’s a resurgence of movement, too many activities to catalogue. The Lady sits, but they remain standing. Courtesies are everything here, even when the ruling power is partial to you. A single attendant, Chiyotsuru, comes back with a tray of impossibly delicate treats, and the Rule blazes bright in Sakumo’s mind even though it’s a moot point: eat not the food of Faerie or ‘til the end of days will you be trapped.

“Lady, by your leave. I would like to look around the various festivities.” Orochimaru murmurs quietly, his lips barely moving. If this is a ploy to get closer to that spectacular display of water magic, Sakumo can’t find it in his heart to disapprove - it is a particularly fantastic demonstration, and he idly wonders what he will need to trade in order to learn it.

“Of course. But please, it is the start of Spring; dance once for me before you sate your curiosity and drag the Wolfling with you. Stars and winds know it will be difficult to find you again once you go.” Still she reaches out and presses her bare wrists to Sakumo’s neck, then Orochimaru’s. Once a wolf, always a wolf.

Kakashi materializes, trailing a small pack of puppies lead by Pakkun, and silent demands a hug. Sakumo has never, and never will, deny his son requests that are so simple to fulfill, making sure to run his cheek over Kakashi’s head to satiate the quiet, insistent instinct for pack to smell like pack. “Be safe, little hunter.” Sakumo takes the steady return of his gaze as agreement, and lets Kakashi return to herding his roiling pack of happy puppies along. Kakashi pauses and repeats the process with Orochimaru, then stalks off into the crowd. Only once he can no longer even see a glimpse of the silver-grey hair that tops his son, Sakumo proffers his arm and leads Orochimaru out into the faerie ring marking out the dance floor.

The steps aren’t complex, innate knowledge of how to keep rhythm and how to follow a pattern aiding them both in stepping into the complex whirling of clothes - for a given value of fabric - and limbs - for a given value of flesh - and merging seamlessly. Time loses its meaning in the cacophony of movement and sound, washed with magic of every type. Orochimaru, vivider than the others dancing with his velvet indigo robes and snake domino, his wolf claw earrings and fang and scale choker, is distracted trying to catalogue every sight and smell and sound, and it is so tempting to close the gap until Sakumo can nose along the hinge of Orochimaru’s jaw and breathe against his cheek, “So, Beautiful, what brings you here?” He feels rather than sees the full blown smile that crinkles Orochimaru’s face, but it’s still worth it to feel the release of the tension in the set of his shoulders.

They whirl apart to duck in and around lines and partners as the steps call for it; then it is too easy to ask, “Aren’t you a little afraid, Handsome?” It takes a moment to see the flash of understanding in Orochimaru’s eyes, “A mortal in a faerie ring, in the Underhill? At the mercy of strange Fae? Isn’t that more or less the most dangerous situation you can ever find yourself in?” He’s teasing, he makes sure he’s teasing because Sakumo knows precisely how dangerous this man is and that’s without having Manda with him, but he’s also curious. Every rule in Orochimaru drilled into his head when he first moved into town made sure to mention the overwhelming disadvantage humans had in the realms of the Fae, and this was certainly at least three of the listed situations to be sure to not find oneself in.

“Oh, Wolfy, but I am the consort of a powerful Fae; I dance with my Fae Hunter under the auspices of their Fair Lady, and I know my Fae in the very matrix of my soul. He is a good man, a honorable Fae, and he once gave me his word to do his best to protect me. Can you think of a safer place to be, my sweet?” Orochimaru presses in closer, far closer than any propriety in Underhill or the human world would find seemly. “Is it overkill his mother and child both adore me?”

Sakumo is doing his best to not flush and failing spectacularly, thankful for the wolf mask covering everything but his mouth. “Godsdammit, Orochimaru.” the mood is completely ruined, but he’s still feeling overwhelmed. It’s not fair.

“Turnabout is fair play,” and that is the smirk of the completely unrepentant. “Now, let’s go challenge those fire -and-ice duos to a match to learn how they’re dual wielding two intrinsically different elements at the same time.” A simple enough request, especially given that Sakumo had noticed them too, and had wanted to observe them and the wonderfully novel shape of those lightning crystals - earth and lightning! Together! - plus the possibility of what looked like a massive black wolf slipping around the shadows. Maybe they’d like to join Fuzzy for a spell?

Orochimaru intertwines their fingers again, and Sakumo knows that the surround Fae take notice and mark it. It is one thing to know that the Snake-Souled Orochimaru has put a claim on the Hunter Sakumo, that it is returned in full and then some, but it is another to see it and know that two individuals who could stand against the oldest of monarchs have chosen each other, smell of a single unit. It’s strange to realize, that all these creatures of myth and legend find him scary, find him the thing not to be crossed, but just as much realizing that the hard and fast human rules for Underhill don’t apply, it is simply a paradigm shift. He follows Orochimaru deeper into Underhill; Sakumo is good at riding changes in situation out.

#sumigakure halloween event 2017 #12am masquerade #this is so spoilery #but it ate my brain #it probably needs a rewrite #once i finish the next fic i'll have to rewrite/edit #i hate the ending so much #art writes

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dracimalfoy1988292 · 3 years

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(ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 18: ǫᴜɪᴅᴅɪᴛᴄʜ ᴏʀ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ)

Weeks passed rather quickly, leaving the students of Hogwarts on an early Sunday morning, and Valentine smelt of fresh orange juice and maple, having come just from breakfast. The library was a wonderful place to be at the given moment, hard rain pelting the roof and draining down the stained-glass windows, lightening reflecting against the carpeted ground. The sound of crisped book pages being turned was prominent in the air, and the oak table was hard beneath Valentine's arms as she laid all her notes out before her.

Macey, although half asleep due to the fact she'd been waken up so early, had her head buried in her arms, facedown against the table. Celia sat besides her, nervously chewing on her nails and glancing around, clearly on edge.

"As long as you're nice, they'll love you ," Valentine reassured the dark-haired girl, who looked all the more skeptical.

"But I'm not nice," Celia commented blandly, emphasizing the not.

"That is true," Macey mumbled through her arms. Celia shot a distressed look at Valentine, getting to her feet.

"Maybe this isn't such a good ide-,"

"Celia!" Lily Evans announced, appearing from no where and embracing Celia into a welcoming hug. "I've wanted to meet you for a while now!"

Celia froze in the redheads arms, her face stuffed into the space above Lily's shoulder. Her eyes were wide and lips parted in shock, and slowly she brought her arms up and enveloped Lily into a hug, though Celia appeared extremely awkward and uncomfortable.

Lily eventually pulled away, wearing a smile that made her emerald eyes glow. Celia mustered a small smile, directing it towards both Lily and Marlene.

"Same here?" Celia replied, though it came out more as a question than a statement. As they sat down, Celia remained by Macey, and Lily sat on her other side, across from Valentine, and Marlene to the left of Valentine.

"Are you guys prepared for the OWLS at all?" Lily asked, organizing her parchments according to classes.

"Partially," Valentine replied with a shrug. The others shook their head.

"We've got a lot of work to do, then. What classes are you studying for?" Lily queried as she pulled her hair back.

"All of them," Marlene snorted exasperatedly.

"Right. And you, Valentine?"

Valentine wafted through her papers, picking out the ones she needed most work on. "History of Magic, for sure. And charms."

"Yeah, I don't fully understand Care of Magical Creatures," Celia hesitantly threw out, and Macey finally sat up, scoring her chair forward.

"Val's really good with that class, she could help," Macey proposed, and when Celia looked to Valentine, she nodded.

"That's true. I really enjoy that class," the blonde explained, knowing that was the profession she wanted to look into after Hogwarts.

"Well, who here needs help with History of Magic?"

At Lily's question, all the girls hands flew up. "Right, then. Valentine, can you go grab some books on the subject?"

Valentine nodded, following through with the task as she quietly followed the bookshelves, scanning for books under the desired topic. Her finger dragged along the spines of books, a fresh coat of dust picking up.

Valentine came to a stop as she found a book labeled, 'Grimoires, History of Magic.' She slid it from its spot, sandwiched between two heavier books, and she grasped it firmly. When she turned to look for more books under the topic, she was startled to find a face pressed between the books from the opposite shelf.

She jumped, dropping her book as she stifled a scream. She clutched her chest, throwing the culprit a dirty look.

"You're going to get me thrown out the library, you stalker," Valentine articulated, watching as Sirius waltzed towards her, Remus and Peter alongside him. James, however, stayed out with his head peeking through the shelf.

"Oi, I'm not a stalker! I'm an observer," he corrected, causing Valentine to roll her eyes, accepting the book she'd dropped from Remus as he picked it up.

"Thank you," Valentine applauded, tucking the hard-cover beneath her arm. "What're you doing here, anyways?"

"Studying, obviously," Sirius confessed, and everyone turned to him, even the Marauders.

"If you're going to lie, Padfoot, at least make it believable," Peter snickered.

"He's right. I didn't think you even knew what the word studying was," Valentine implored. "Really, what're you doing here?"

"We're bored," James whined, scrunching his nose up at the girl. Valentine smiled at the gesture, staring at him for a while before turning away.1

"Go prank Snape or something, then. I have plans," Valentine suggested, but Remus shook his head.

"They've already done that today," he sighed.

"What?!?" Valentine voiced, checking her wrist as if there were a watch. "It isn't even ten o'clock yet!"

"That's the point, Red. You've go to strike when they least expect it," Sirius informed her. "And now we have clear schedules, so what do you recommend we do? And list things not here, it smells like boredom and old books."

"That's because we're in the library, mate," James retorted as he finally joined them in the aisle, shooting Valentine a genuine and pleading glance. "But come on, Vee, you've gotta come do something with us!"

Valentine shook her head adamantly. "I'm studying for my OWLS."

"We've got months for that," Peter acknowledged, grimacing at the thought of the wizarding exams they'd have to take at the end of the school year.3

"Well, I know, but I'd rather be ready than wait for the last minute. Perhaps you four should go back to the common room and study. That'll give you something to do."

"Only think it'll give me is a shorter will to live," Sirius griped somberly.3

Valentine shot him a sarcastic look. "Oh well. Anyways, I've got to get back before Lily wonders where I've gone."

"Tell her I said hey, would you?" James pitched in, cheeks rosy.

"That's all? Just hey?" Valentine asked, surprised that's all he had asked for her to say to the Evans girl.

Normally it would be at the very least 'hey Lily flower, come to the boys dorm if you really want to see the magic I can really do.' That request ended any possibility for Valentine to deliver messages to others. It was scarring.1

"Yeah, that's all," James confirmed, combing his hair with his fingers, the jet-black mess sticking up weirdly, causing Valentine to laugh.

"Right, well, see you later then," she waved, hearing Sirius' complaining decrease until she couldn't hear any talking at all.

_________________________

"ARE THOSE YOUR ONLY PLANS for the rest of your life? Quidditch?" Peter asked as he pulled his scarf tighter against his neck.1

"Quidditch and death," James confirmed stubbornly, cold wind whipping against his face and turning his cheeks the color of bubblegum. "That's all that matters."45

"Morbid," Valentine depicted, shivering against the frosty temperature seeming to swallow Valentine. Her hair fell in its natural waves down her back, blowing against the breeze as she followed the others to the Quidditch Pitch. James had a practice, and he persuaded everyone to come watch.

Correction, actually. He'd persuaded the boys, then he persuaded Valentine, claiming he wanted to showcase his new moves. Then Valentine had persuaded Lily by telling her Remus would be there. Celia had run off after their study session, saying she had to talk to someone, leaving Valentine in the dark to who that person may be. And Macey couldn't attend because she'd promised Mary McDonald and Dorcas Meadows to help catch them up on the lessons they'd 'd missed after being submitted into the hospital wing, thanks to a a foul prank that had been played at the hand of Mulciber and his companion, Avery.4

Foul gits, were the only words Valentine could think of to describe the two Slytherin boys.

Besides Valentine, Lily let out a shaky breath, the action fogging up the space before her like a cloud of fog after this mornings storm. As a result of the rain, the dirt squelched disgustingly beneath the groups feet, dousing Valentine's shoes in watered-soil and broken stems of plants scattered among the fields.

"Are you cold, Lily?" Remus asked quietly, recognizing that James hadn't looked their way. Lily, as well as the taller boy, hesitated, though she nodded nonetheless.

In response, Remus smiled gently at her, grabbing the jumper that had been slung over his arm and handing it to the girl. Lily took it, thanking him for his generosity as she slipped it over her shoulders, the jacket quite large for her, though she didn't seem to mind.18

Valentine made eye contact with Lily from behind Remus' back, making teasing kissy faces and shaping a heart with her hands. Lily sent her a threatening look, and Valentine snorted beneath her breath as Lily's cheeks brighten more so than they'd already been.

Valentine cautiously looked to James, seeing he had in fact noticed Remus' and Lily's exchange. If he thought anything of it, though, he didn't say, but Valentine noticed the subtle clench of his fists and tightening of his jaw. The Hufflepuff was surprised he didn't hex Remus then and there for daring to offer a coat of his own to the girl he'd adored for so long, but Valentine decided it wasn't her place, so she instead looked to the sky.

Blue was blending into an orange and pink, the sun setting high in the air and casting the light of a fire across the left side of the castle, gnarly tree branches casting shadows and the

stands appearing larger in the dark.

James broke off, approaching the locker rooms for a changing, noticing all the other players on the pitch.

"Be careful, James!" Valentine urged, knowing that quidditch could be quite dangerous, and while it was only a practice, there was always a risk.

"Why, you worried about me?" He asked through a cheeky grin, causing Valentine's cheeks to light up, making her no longer allowed to make fun of Lily's pale complexion and bright colored blush.

"In your dreams, Potter."

"I don't think you want to know what I dream about," James commented with a sly smirk, disappearing into the locker room.6

Valentine smiled at the interaction before she saw Lily, frowning at the Gryffindor girls expression.

Lily, head turning back and forth and the speed of light between where James' exited and where Valentine stood, gasped accusingly.

Stomping angrily towards the blonde, dirty water splashing beneath her boots, she took Valentine by the ear and dragged her to the side.1

"No need to manhandle me! Precious cargo, here!" Valentine exclaimed, rubbing her ear lobe when the redhead had finally decided to release her, though as she found Lily with one hand on her hip and her lips pursed, Valentine gulped, unsettled.

"Er- I suppose there's a reason you've secluded me over here? Or do you just enjoy my company that much?" Valentine jested with cheesy finger guns, but she quickly discarded them.

"When were you going to tell me you fancy Potter?" She whisper-yelled, causing Valentine's jaw to drop as she over-dramatically gagged.

"WHAT?!?" Valentine basically yelled, though it sounded more as a vicious 'wot' from where Sirius, Remus, and Peter ascended the stands, causing the boys to snicker as they wondered what they argued about. "Have you lost it completely?"1

"You two were flirting!" Lily enunciated, flinging her arms around.1

"Were not!" Valentine declined, opposed by the claim.

"Were too!"

"Wha- were not!"

"Yes, you were!"

"This is preposterous!" Valentine countered.2

"Oh, I don't think it is," Lily objected. "You know what Potter sent me for Christmas? A card with a poem. Sure, a bit over the top and extremely inappropriate, but that's all! Usually he'll send a whole package of gifts, including candies and books, believe it or not, clothing as well. But all I got this year was a bloody card!"2

"Uh- sorry you weren't gifted efficiently enough? I'm not sure what you want me to say, Lils," Valentine sarcastically shrugged, and Lily cocked her head.

"My point is, over the past few weeks it's seemed, after five years, Potter has finally began to loose interest."

Valentine raised her eyebrows, staring at the girl.

Then she laughed rather loudly.

"Lily, have you not caught the pet names? The way he is always watching you or trying to engage in a conversation where you don't insult him, which, may I add, never happens? He's head over heels for you."

"Yes, maybe, but he's far less head over heels for me than he once was, and I think that has to do with you! And I think you fancy him."

Valentine blew up her cheeks like a chipmunk, slowing releasing the air, causing a funny noise to push past her lips, awkwardness settling over her.

"You've officially lost it. Don't worry, I'll pay the medical bills, but we should hurry to St. Mungo's before you suffer from critical brain dama-,"11

"Did he get you anything for Christmas?" Lily blurted impatiently, hearing the whizzing of brooms overhead, signaling the practice had started.

"Well yeah. That's what friends do."

"What was it?"

"Listen, Nancy Drew-,"

The look on Lily's face made Valentine trail off.

"An Elton John record. Don't Go Breaking My Heart."

Breaking from the tough facade, Lily squealed and clapped her hands maniacally, jumping up and down with a smile devouring half her face.10

"Oh, that's so cute! And meaningful, because you two sang that song! Wow, I didn't think he had it in him!"1

"Galloping Gargoyles, Lily! When James has a crush, he makes it painfully obvious. I think we'd know if he liked me!" Valentine contended, feeling odd that this was what the two were speaking about.

"That's true, trust me, but what if he doesn't even know? It's possible he could just be confused, you know. Having liked one girl for so long and suddenly another, it may take him a bit to realize those emotions and change. Besides, you and I both know he's not the brightest sometimes."

"That's rude," Valentine giggled, brushing stray hairs from her eyes.

"Defending your man?" Lily questioned with playful eyes.

"For Merlin's sake," Valentine commented, disgruntled. "Now you've put all these ideas in my head and wether I fancy him or he fancies me, it's going to be all awkward."

"Why?"

"Because what am I supposed to say? 'Lily thinks you fancy me, do you have the question to number eight?'" Valentine mocked in a deep voice, imaging the future conversations she'd have with the curly-haired boy, none of them seeming to pleasant.

I think I'd know if I fancied someone.1

...would I?

I would, wouldn't I?

Shit.

Other than liking spending time with him and enjoying hearing his cocky jokes or being around his blinding smiles, Valentine wasn't sure she felt anything different than she had when she'd first met the boy.

"Lillllyyyyy," Valentine whined. "Now you've got me confused. My brain hurts."

Valentine pressed her fingers to her temples, massaging them while she curled her lips downwards.1

I need a magic 8 ball.1

"You may not see it, Val, but I do," Lily promised, stringing her arm through Valentine's, pulling her to watch the practice taking place near them. "It's only a matter of time."6

And Valentine found her head blank when it came to retorting a sarcastic remark back.

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i-sold-my-soul-to-loki-blog · 6 years

Text

Chapter 2: The Devil Is My Witness

Hell wasn’t normally a nice place. It was hot, cramped and open flames and lava rivers were everywhere. On the celestial safety scale, it ranked a solid 2 outta 10. That being said the main palace was a stunning and comfortable place. The walls floors and roof was made of either carved obsidian or marble. Colored polished crystals and stones adorned the lights and windows giving it a sacred feeling angels so loved.

The main throne was made from cast silver and ancient demon blades. Sitting in it was Morningstar himself and a little ember demon kit. He was stroking its back and feeding it some kind of meat. She really didn’t want to know what kind.

“Ah, you are here. No need to worry I know it wasn’t you who made the deal to enter heaven. I also know it wasn’t you who stole my brother’s sword. However, I do need your help getting it back.” He took off his sunglasses revealing a pair of ruby red eyes and deep abyssal black wings.

“Now time for proper introductions. I’ve wanted to do this since the first day we met but a fallen angel can’t be too careful. I’m Lucifer Morningstar, welcome to Hell.” His smile was warm and revealed a pair of long almost vampiric fangs. She could almost believe he fathered that race, almost.

“Now I know what you’re thinking. You can’t be the devil you’re too nice and way too handsome. Doesn’t he have goat legs and horns? I assure you I am Satan or Lucifer or the Devil whatever you want to call me I am in fact he.” He stood and gave a dramatic bow. He looked eager as he Awaited their response.

“Actually…” Loki started. “What she is thinking is dear fates why am I surrounded by these crazy drama club goths.” He gave her his best disapproving stare. “I resent that remark by the way. You see this is why I can’t take her places, such a disobedient wolf.” he smiled toward Lucifer as if it was a running joke between the two Gods.

“No.” She interjected. “This is why I can’t have nice things. I meet a lovely semi-normal person who isn’t trying to burn down the town, send me on crazy errands, seduce half the population or trying to start a war and have a decent camaraderie with and he turns out to be an angel. But not just any angel he’s the adorable non-uptight human acting fallen one. Honestly can’t I just meet a nice vampire or maybe a swamp mermaid hell I’ll settle for a dragon at this point.” Her rant lasted longer than she’d have liked but it was getting really annoying her lack of suitable suitors. In true male fashion however they missed the point.

“You think he’s adorable yet I’m just meh.” Loki sounded offended.

“You like having me as a friend?” She could’ve sworn she saw a tear. “I’ve never had friends before, can I please keep you as one.” Damn, he sounded so dang sincere.

“It’s not like you being the Devil changes anything. My best friends are Loki god of Mischief and Hades lord of the dead. Trust me Arch Angel Lucifer will fit right in with this crowd.” She gave him a pat on the shoulder. Yeah her friends were a weird group.

“When did you befriend Hades?” They asked in unison. Loki completely missing the God of Mischief is my best friend part.

“A few years ago during the whole Hammer of Thor incident. I had to retrieve water from the Phlegethon to appease the dragon Gajeel. Struck a deal with Hades so me, him, Hel and Xolotl occasionally get together for tea and trade stories about our respective pantheons. Yes Loki, since you don’t hang with the Norse deities you are considered mine by default.”

The two seemed fascinated by this little tidbit. Hades and Hel don’t talk to anyone yet this little wolf succeeded. Of course, it was no surprise, he was prone to sending her off to do random tasks he couldn’t which required a certain amount of finesse and trust building. Still, it was a bit disconcerting that she had these strong allies he had no clue about.

If she wanted it would be easy to wriggle out of her contract. Especially now that Lucifer was among those friends. He was considered the God of bargains and deals by most of the other Gods. Loki stared at her, silently praying that she wouldn’t choose to leave.

“I know what you are thinking trickster and I have no plans of breaking our little deal. It’s far too much fun being able to roam anywhere in the nine realms without bothering a dimensional sorcerer or sorceress. Besides as troublesome as these jobs of yours are they do past the time between bouts of boredom.” The words were thrown out rather absentmindedly as she studied the group of demons that wandered in.

He could never understand how she handled demokyn so easily. Most of them were either nauseating to look at or to smell, this group was the rare ones that were both. Of course like most celestial beings, if you could call them that, they could take human form. The thing was that unless it was necessary they refused to. He really wished that wasn’t the case right now.

The largest pair of demons were a sickly green color, covered with large bulky scales they had mostly serpentine bodies. They had the chest of a bodybuilder and where their feet should have been were two spiny clusters that seemed to drag the creatures across the floor. They had no hands and instead used their anglerfish like jaws to each hold an arm of their captive. They smelt like rotten desert carrion.

The other three were humanish in looks. Their skin, however, was marbled with shades of red orange and yellow. Their hands and feet were webbed and red fins protruded from their arms, legs and backs. In place of hair were red and orange banded spines that seemed to go well with their bright golden eyes. Like the others they had the jaws of deep sea fish. Their scent however was in a much more charming burnt leather range.

Their captive however seemed like your average human. Tan skin, black hair, brown eyes, two arms, two legs and a bit on the skinny side. He wore a red and orange camo catsuit. He looked a bit worse for the wear but if he had been running around Hell it could’ve been worse. No surprise Skye and Lucifer seemed to know him.

“Is that GREG? Mr. I’m going to kill all the vampires in Romania GREG. Mr. Let me wear your pelt as a trophy GREG.” By the way she said his name he could tell Greg was no a friend.

“Yes.” the Devil responded. “After you caught the guy trying to kill off my precious Nephilim son Asreal I had him brought down here and thrown in the rivers of fury. The five you see before you are lava nymphs. Well except for the guards those are hell born Naga, a gift from my middle eastern partner.”

He seemed so casual about it. Oh yeah don’t mind him I just had the guy drug down here to torture for eternity. It's no big deal really. Just gonna drown in him the fury bled from wronged men. Of course he couldn’t judge, he once turned a human who threatened Nami into a rabbit, gave him immortality and set him loose in a building full of hungry kitsune.

“Okay then.” That’s his lycan and her confused acceptance of the vengeful acts of scorned Gods. “why is he currently in here then?” Straight to the point, good girl.

“You see…” One of the Lava nymphs started.

“An angel came and said they needed his help tracking something or someone down.” The center one continued.

“Since he was cursed by the Dimensional Witch Eternity he can hop between worlds but will only land in the most guarded place in that world.” the third finished.

“The angel thought that if the sword was missing it’d be heavily guarded and they would send him in to scout the place. If he got killed the process he’d just return to us and report.” They said in unison. The naga nodded in agreement causing their teeth to dig into Greg’s arms. Blood started to run onto the marble floor in a steady stream. Hungry calls could be heard throughout the palace.

“What did the Angel look like?” Lucifer asked as he walked towards the human. His red eyes had turned a sickly yellow shade. Black scales replaced the feathers on his wings and a long dragon like tail flashed into view. The not so subtle reminder that when an angel falls it becomes a Demon King.

“It was tall but looked almost completely human. The eyes were like mercury and golden wings were blinding though they had black stripes. It chose a dark-skinned suit, like maybe a Jamaican but was built like a pro boxer. Unlike most it didn’t seem bothered by the air down here, in fact, it was smiling.” The nymphs shuddered.

“It seems my dear brother Michael paid us a visit. It is his sword after all. Still what he says goes even if this traitorous bastard doesn’t deserve to be let go.” He pulled the human from the Nagas jaws causing a fresh spray of blood to coat the walls and floor.

The sound he made couldn’t have been human but it came from one. His cries of pain only caused the distant howls of hunger to grow louder and move closer. Slithering and tapping could be heard on the windows outside. Something resembling a gulper eel with wings flashed into view outside.

Loki took a few steps closer to Skye for comfort. She moved them both a good two feet further from Greg. As did his escort party. A large growl rattled the building and several of the demons retreated from view outside.

“Loki, speaking one Celestial being to another, can I trust you to return this filth to me once the blade is found.” his voice was a low whisper that bounced of the walls and chilled him to his bones.

“Considering I don’t want him, to begin with, I’ll happily return him to you the moment he is no longer of use.” He forced himself to swallow as the urge to throw up became stronger.

He turned toward his lycan for comfort but found only seething hatred in her eyes. Usually, they were a light blue, the color of the fjords, sometimes like glaciers in the winter. Right now, however, they were a deep navy, like waves during a storm. She was fighting down the inner demon that made lycans, lycans. No doubt it had something to do with Lucifer’s current mood, the calls of the demokyn outside and Greg’s pleased smirk.

“Skye luna Starshadow do you swear that no matter what this soul will be returned to where it belongs?” He was full on Demon King now, Greg little more then a chew toy in the grasp of a Great White. Charcoal black skin was covered in red Enochian script in complex patterns. Black bat like wings with red stripes stretched behind him. A long black reptilian tail wrapped around the throne, blood red barbs carving grooves in the floor. Large elk like antlers graced his head, each branch ending in a barbed point.

“The devils as my witness I will drag him back here myself.” Her usual calm voice was little more than a snarl.

“Good now begone. We’ll catch up after.” with a puff of black sooty smoke they found themselves in the heart of Helheim.

#SeriouslyGreg Ofallthepeople onthefrickinplanet Greg dearjesuswhy

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