Your heart. 

CONCEPT DOODLES for an AU I dabbled in with a few friends after the winter king episode but kinda forgot about after the Fionna and Cake finale... I decided to revisit it and explore a little more after coming to terms with everything LOL... So, it's another "Winter King doesn't die immediately after his crown gets nuked" AU, but THIS TIME he's just dying really slowly (like Simon in the Betty episode) and ALSO joins Fionna, Cake, and Simon on their search for magic crowns. There's no logic behind this tbh, we just wanted to put him through The Horrors. And make them all friends. But mostly The Horrors. :) (he only gets to live as a treat, because I think he's funny).

Bonus (old screenshot), because this is still funny to me:

Lackadaisy Enrichment

It honestly really baffles me when people say adrien is a boring or simple character, I don’t understand where that comes from at all. Because I think the main reason he’s so compelling are his complexities, but in the same vein those complexities I think make him someone very easy to relate to. Like it’s fine if he’s not likable or relatable to everyone but saying he’s not complex is really just ???? To me. Just looking at how DIFFERENTLY he acts around different people and situations is so fascinating to me. Of course everyone takes different personas and highlights different aspects of their personality around different people but adrien is the king of doing it around the same people to the extent of which having his two personalities be the same is laughable to those who know him personally in his everyday life.

But it’s not out of no where, seeing his home life and the kind of person he’s made out to be by his situation it’s not hard at all to understand that he’s a person who is immensely self conscious. He’s constantly gauging others perception of him and whether or not he is “safe”. What’s more fascinating is the entirely different way this comes out in chat noir. Because adriens personality as chat noir is also deliberate to a certain extent but it’s deliberate in the way that that’s how he wants others to see him. He wants to see self assured and larger than life because in his everyday life he feels small and self conscious. The fact that this dichotomy is so easy to follow in his character but creates such a black and white image in his two personalities is so interesting!

Another thing I find completely fascinating about him are his high empathy and how that actually fucks him up more often than not. He’s acutely aware of how other people might be feeling and can easily sympathize. At the same time though he has a hard time understanding certain social cues and situations and seems very out of his element. I don’t think these things conflict at all. Adrien is someone who easily puts himself in other peoples shoes and can imagine and have sympathy for their situation, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to pick up on the social complexities of every interaction every time. Emotions aren’t the same as communication and when it comes to the later adrien works best with simple and straight forward interactions.

In the same vein because of his aforementioned situations he’s also a character who has a lot of repressed anger and frustration that has been building up for a very long time. In his everyday life, he feels powerless, small, and insignificant. He doesn’t have faith that anyone would listen to his thoughts and feelings and actually take them into account, because by all of his experiences no one really has. This creates a defense mechanism where he shuts himself out before he even gets to the point of sharing how he really feels. We see this really easily in his relationship with Nino. He loves Nino DEARLY, but there is something that we have seen in him constantly putting up walls emotionally. He won’t tell him when he doesn’t find something funny, he won’t tell him if he’s unhappy to do something even when it greatly affects his life because he is at his core afraid Nino will not validate those emotions.

As a result, all the frustration he’s built up from feeling powerless in his everyday life we see just. Randomly bursting out of him in inopportune moments as chat noir. It’s not that adrien is such a violent or angry person normally. But he’s so used to repressing and modulating his emotions regularly that when he feels somewhat safe to express any frustration ALL of the anger he feels constantly bubbling under the surface all of the time just suddenly rushes out, like a dam holding back hundreds of gallons of water. This happens repeatedly, and then as soon as he’s realized he’s let himself get out of control he immediately feels immense guilt and he stops the dam up even tighter. This is obviously not a healthy feedback loop but it’s fucking FASCINATING!!!!

A common thing that I feel like I see fans often misinterpret about his character in my own opinion is just how PRIVATE of a person adrien is. Adrien loves sharing his love and appreciation for those around him because he knows how it feels not to know, not to be sure of that affection. But in the same token, Adrien rarely if ever actually shares his real feelings with those he’s close to. He doesn’t like people prying into his life or his feelings and he is very private about most things. We don’t see him talking about what he likes, we don’t see him sharing with his friends his anger or frustration. And in the end Adrien is the one character who has kept his secrets most closely held to his vest. This is all despite being so grandiose and loud mouthed as chat noir. Even as chat noir, adrien rarely is entirely open about things going on in his life.

To me Adrien as a character isn’t interesting or compelling because he is shy or cute or sweet, but because there are a number of different facets to his personality that I can easily see reasons for and understand where his feelings come from. He IS sweet, but not without misplaced anger, not without repression, not without mistakes and messy emotions. Not without pain that we can both easily see the roots of but also have a wide spread variety of consequences from. We see how his formative experiences affect every aspect of his life even in ways he audience wouldn’t necessarily expect, but make complete sense. That’s so fun and interesting to me!!!! Let characters be messy but try their best anyways!!! Let characters hurt each other and try to put the pieces back together one shard at a time. People have complicated emotions that come out in ways we can’t always foresee or help, people make mistakes because of that. But despite everything adrien is a character who cares deeply for those around him and tries to do right by them despite all the rest of it, and despite sometimes not really knowing how.

It’s things like that that keep miraculous being an extremely engaging and compelling story to me. Most of the general things about adriens character are also things that I find interesting about marinettes as well! Of course the intricacies of her character are completely different, but the general hows and whys and complex motivations for her actions while maintaining the best of intentions are what make them both so interesting to me. So this is just a little love letter to adriens character because I wanted to talk about that and why I find him so engaging!

Rumors are going around on twitter and weibo that starember might have left the tgcf manhua team omg.. they're unfounded right now but can we get a prayer circle going for hoping that it's true!! 🙏🙏🙏I'm so tired of their consistent racism and orientalism being passed around in the manhua space, people have been raising the alarm on it for literal years now

[OC] afternoon!! starting the day w/ a half-assed oc ref sheet for an art trade

Mourning

Read an exclusive excerpt of "Chapter 5: The Mysterious Cal and Lily" from Tangled Vines: A Complete Investigation of the Vatore Disappearances, the bestselling phenomenon sweeping Sim Nation!

The advent of the Roaring '20s put a new city on the map. Prohibition was in full swing across the nation (though often loosely and selectively enforced), but citizens were more eager than ever to revel in excess. Producers of alcoholic beverages (including the Vatore family itself, having swiftly resumed business operations despite the loss of its future inheritors) transitioned to an outward emphasis on medical spirits while moving recreational production underground. Equally clandestine speakeasys began cropping up by the dozens, but one city's winding sidewalks, grimy storefronts, and labyrinthine system of underground tunnels made it particularly well-suited to hosting these secret locales. Soon enough, San Myshuno was the pinnacle of glitz, glamor, and elegant debauchery. All who attended a party wanted to be seen. Curiously, though, two of the names most often uncovered in tabloid archives, Cal and Lily, seemed to fully avoid the increasingly ubiquitous flash of the camera. While other frequenters of the speakeasy circuit often found their grainy black and white faces in print, providing endless fodder for the burgeoning gossip rag industry, this pair remained elusive, which of course sold even more papers. Fellow partygoers pitched first-hand accounts to the highest bidders, and readers clung onto every salacious word. Lily and Cal were always observed to arrive together, but she would soon make a beeline for the gramophone while he settled in at the bar. Nearly every report calls Lily an exquisite beauty with an almost supernatural ability for drawing men into her orbit. In some instances, partygoers describe a herd of suitors nearly erupting into fisticuffs as they competed for her attention. It is impossible to say how many of these accounts are exaggerated or even fabricated. Nevertheless, it is clear she was quite the force. At the end of the night, she would leave with her chosen companion, stupefied by his stroke of good luck, on her arm. Meanwhile, Cal would watch listlessly from a distance, nursing a glass of whiskey he was never observed to actually drink. The relationship between the two was unclear, as was his reason for accompanying her, as he seemed to have little interest in the raucousness surrounding him. He rarely engaged with other guests or even Lily herself, though there is at least one report of an argument in which he seemed with little success to be dissuading her from leaving with yet another man. One cannot help but draw parallels to a certain set of siblings with suspiciously similar names. Despite being younger, Caleb Vatore was always said to be protective over his sister Lilith's interests, even if she rarely heeded his advice. Digging into the newspaper archives at Myshuno Meadows Library unearths several more disturbing accounts. Increasingly, there were whispers that the men Lily seduced completely vanished from San Myshuno society after coming into contact with her. While there was a small spike in unsolved murder cases at the time, a concrete connection between the victims and the mysterious Lily cannot be made. In one story, which admittedly reads like a hallucinatory drug trip, Lily is described as a succubus with glowing red eyes and sharp blood-stained teeth. This account was clearly dismissed, for its revelations were never entertained further. All at once, the champagne and glitter dissolved into a more sober era, and these socialites vanished from public life just as swiftly. In isolation, similarities between Cal and Lily and the disappeared Vatore siblings may seem like mere coincidences. In truth, it cannot even be proven that they existed. No official records matching either individual have been discovered. One could argue that they were works of fiction concocted to boost sales or composites drawn from several individuals. However, considered alongside the evidence to be presented in later chapters, the theory that this duo and the Vatores are one and the same becomes too tantalizingly probable to dismiss.

"We do so adore restricted areas, don't we?"

"We shouldn't go in there. Which is exactly why we should. Now take heed. There's a chance we could get caught."

“I used to be a marine”, he says, before he can think better of it. And when he does think better of it, well. He’s already said it. 

Next to him, he can feel Shanks tensing up. He leaves him ample time to cut him off, half relieved when the redhead stays silent. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees him idly tracing the neck of the bottle they’ve emptied. 

“I didn’t join out of some misplaced faith or sense of justice”, he feels the need to point out, his father’s stern face at the back of his mind. “I joined because my brother did”. 

To have an excuse to get out of home, too. With Calugurul about to be shipped off, he hadn’t been too eager to find out if he could withstand the full scope of their father’s attention alone. 

“We were… close, my brother and I”, he continues. And then, because it feels cheap to encompass their relationship with just that: “He taught me to fight. Gave me my first sword”. 

Back when Yoru doubled him in height and he couldn’t fathom how his brother managed to wield it when he himself had trouble raising a simple steel sword.

“He did have faith in the cause”, he says after a moment. Under the night sky, Yoru stays black and void. Even the reflection of the small bonfire they’ve built evades it. “Quickly gained the trust of peers… and superiors”. 

The back of his throat tastes bitter. Why is he doing this? He doesn’t owe Shanks a single thing. Why is he wasting his time trying to appease the redhead’s stupid insecurity about him not joining his crew? 

He sighs. 

“My skills in combat kept me by his side through all of it. That is, until Gyorgy Thurzo became our captain”.  

This is for @bluepeachstudios ‘s Ghost in a Shell. It’s really good you should read it.

I looked at exactly one picture of Jupiter Jim and went “yeah this should be enough to draw him.” I will not be answering if it actually was

Have some bonus content under the cut!

And sketches

(I love any character who can say “I don’t want to go back to prison” it’s like the funniest thing to me)

The Soul of The Enduring

A Fear & Hunger 2: Termina mini comic, featuring my OC Louisa encountering Caligura.

WIP Whenever (since I'm way late for a Wednesday check-in)

Popping in with a new OC reveal this week, mwah. Meet Sébastien as he runs headfirst, or shall I say falls, into trouble.

"And above all, keep your feet and legs together.", the faint droning of the instructor rang in the background as Sébastien regarded the picturesque scenery below him through the opening of the small plane, "You listenin'?" He let out a chuckle before sending a smile the man's way, same one he would offer his father's investors anytime he'd be forced to sit into a meeting with them and pretend he knew all about running their family business. "Of course, m-", he racked his brain, trying to remember a name, first or last, anything, at the end coming up empty, "my dear newfound friend." The bored look he received as a reply wasn't promising, but he wasn't there to impress anyone, rather than seconds away from plummeting down from 10 000 feet up, if luck had it, gracefully and without a hitch. "You sighed the waiver.", the man muttered under his breath before continuing, "From your demeanor, I take it you're not worried?" "No.", Sébastien lied as he braced against the side of the plane, completely suited up, wondering if the truth would stop him from his most recent adrenaline seeking spontaneous trip. His forged license ensured him passage, a seat on the plane, almost making him forget he had to also act the part, doubting money would slay the person in front of him with how much weight he put on the rules even before take-off.

"Good.", a mumble sounded from the front, followed by a wave from their pilot aimed at the instructor. "-clearance.", he strained his ears, trying to catch whatever the two were hunkered down and whispering about. "Okay. Showtime, Mr. King.", it took him a lot of willpower to not instinctively correct the fake name he had given upon meeting the man and signing a stack of documents before his dive. His father would always talk about how much pride he had to have in the Gallagher-Kerring name, the legacy it carried, same one that gave people a pause and made it super easy for him to be tracked down. "I thought we weren't due for a couple of more minutes?", checking his watch was close to impossible, with all the gear he had on, but eventually he managed to confirm his suspicion. The scenery wasn't of much help location wise with the fields and various small structures scattered between winding roads signaling, he could have been anywhere over Montana. The body of water they passed reminded him he wasn't exactly listening to that part of the lecture. Just aim for anything that's not water. Easy. "Time flies.", was all the instructor offered before bracing his hands on his hips, "Usually we would need the equipment back by Friday, or else you lose the deposit, but seeing how you have your own and didn't request retrieval…" "That won't be an issue?" The plan was to skydive, land near Missoula, maybe hitchhike there if he felt extra adventurous. Everything he wore was practically brand new, purchased after he had stormed the closest specialized store he could find the moment he had left the most recent gathering Frank Gallagher-Kerring had bestowed upon him. The bright yellow and black piece covering his lean body wasn't exactly his first choice, but he was assured it was the best and most expensive one they had.

"Yeah. Any further questions, Mr. King?" "No. Thank you.", he paired the words with another grin while wishing for the man to already stop talking. With a final clearance and another quick whisper session with the pilot, Sébastien found himself threading air, all his instincts screaming at him he would die. Instead of listening to the pesky voice, he focused on his surroundings and how the small dots that were in reality trees and other buildings became large, closer as he spread his limbs face-to-earth to avoid spinning out and actually making true on that fear. "I'm alive!", he screamed on top of his lungs, absorbing as much of the giddy sensation as he could. There always came a time during whatever dangerous endeavor he partook where his mind would seem so much clearer, though usually he had others with him, drowning out the tranquility. "3000 feet.", the altimeter attached to his helmet announced, kicking him back into action as he recalled his instructor's word about the moment he needed to open his parachute. His right hand grasped the rip-cord while his left came to rest across his waist. A sudden jolt followed as the canopy unfolded, making his breath hitch. He pushed through the shock as a satisfied smile spead over his features. "Piece of cake.", he muttered while his eyes zeroed on a white shape speeding down one of the roads he could see from his position. He had no idea how much time passed where he descended towards the clearing he believed was good enough for a landing with the alternative of ending up in one of the trees nearby, slightly worrying him.

Then he felt it, trying to convince himself the adrenaline was playing tricks on him - something flying past him as smaller forms that looked almost like ants came into view. Whatever calm had taken over his body left him at once when the whoosh happened again, followed by another. A stinging sensation registered in his arm as he gripped his parachute risers tighter. His gaze widened in horror at the tear in his suit as another bullet flew past and missed him. The multiple holes marrying the previously intact material of the bright yellow and black canopy only fueled it. "No fucking waaaaay.", he let out a string of curses as panic swooped in together with the realization he was being shot at. That the shapes that previously looked like ants were people with guns and coming in closer as he descended down. In his attempts to avoid getting killed by something that had nothing to do with his questionable choices, he focused on the road next to the clearing, hoping the maniacs would let out if he landed outside of what he assumed was their private property they were so dead set on defending from an innocent skydiver. Their angry yells mixed until they were indistinguishable as he began plummeting down faster thanks to his parachute being turned into swiss cheese. The wind worked in his favor somewhat, granting him a lead on his pursuers. More bullets flew, all missing him by mere chance, making him glad whoever those men were they certainly had worse aim than him at his very first shooting lesson his father had dragged him to when he was but 10.

"Come on. Come on, baby.", he chanted as his luck ran out and his hopeful descent turned nightmarish, faster, out of control. It was becoming clear making it to the safety of the road wasn't in the cards for him when his trajectory shifted dramatically despite him trying his hardest to keep steady. "FUCCK.", ripped out of his throat as he calculated his chances of making it over the tree line separating the fields from the road. No way. It was going to take a miracle. All he could do was close his eyes while his elbows locked together to instinctively protect his face from the incoming collusion. A part of him wondered if he should pray, if anything would even consider saving him with his track record of mayhem. "I wanna live. I'd donate all my money if I have to.", spilled out as a promise, thought he meant just the first part, letting go of his usual lifestyle felt impossible, out of the question. It's all he had and considered deserving off after surviving being raised by a Gallagher-Kerring. Sébastien had no idea how his landing actually unfolded as he kept his eyes shut, chanting reassurances under his breath, all he knew was that one second he was facing certain death, the next he felt his parachute hook onto something. "What the-", he could still hear faint shouts behind him, as his harness pulled at his body, feet dangling uselessly midair instead of touching the ground below, "I'm alive? Fuck. Gotta move." His hands shook as he grasped at the buckles, willing for his fingers to cooperate and undo them before whatever advantage he had on his attackers would vanish entirely.

"It's not that high. Nope.", he lied to himself, feeling idiotic for fearing such small drop after having literally dove out from a plane and risked his life for thrills. He held his breath as the final straps keeping him suspended gave way and gravity brought him down, his not so graceful but loosened stance softening his fall to a degree. With racing heart he relaxed into the grass beneath him, his victory becoming shortlived as he looked up and met a pair of angry eyes, then his gaze lowered, stopping at the rifle cluthed in the bloody grip of the unkept man looming above him. "Friendly, kind sir.", he whispered and shimmied back until his helmet made contact with something solid. It's just a big stone. Yeah. Not a leg connected to a person. It's what went through his mind despite suspecting reality was different and granted, when his head twisted to glance at what he had run into in his attempt to retreat, another just as equally furious seeming man greeted him by sneering his way. He would have bet a good chunk of money they were brothers, with the one behind him looking like he had been eating his vegetables and then some. "Fried-", a hand pulled him to his feet like he weighted nothing and made the word die before it formed fully, especially with how the longhaired Berserker wanna-be was holding onto his helmet, making him wonder if his grip would squish his head if nothing stood in its path. The fact he was taller than Sébastien didn't help, either. "We should call this in. Otis, get me Brother John on the line.", the shorter brother barked an order, attention shifting past the two. And then there were three?

His captor let out a low grunt, "We should, Bo… but he said he is to not be bothered today. Under any circumstance." "With the exception of anything related to the Deputy.", a third voice presumably belonging to Otis added, or at least it's what he hoped - that he wasn't about to be surrounded by a whole gang of trigger happy locals that took trespassing way too seriously. I wasn't even touching the ground. His hand inched up to his face, aiming for the clasp under his chin while Bo rubbed his dark beard, contemplating their options. "This Sinner fell from the sky.", he pointed his rifle at Sébastien, making him hold his breath in anticipation of the worst, "What if this is part of the Father's prophecy? A sign?" Sinner? Father? WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING? Did I travel back in time? Sébastien forced a laugh, "It's called skydiving, have you people not heard of it? You know, plane, jumping, freefalling, then parachuting the rest of the-" The Berserker shook him in warning, its threatening tone not halting his concealed efforts at freeing himself, "SHUT UP." "Sorry. Just-" "I said shut your mouth, Sinner before you become an Angel.", the sentence was uttered through gritted teeth, before the man addressed his shorter look-alike, "Or the Sinners are sending in reinforcements, airdropping them, hoping we'd be caught off guard." Like I have a chance at taking you all out. I've been hitting the gym, but not that HARD. "Call this in, Otis. Brother John would like to know.", Bo concluded with a nod.

The second the command was spoken out loud, the clasp securing the helmet to Sébastien's head came undone. Before any of the three men could blink, he was making a run for it, discarding the piece of equipment as years of running track in highschool came back to him, but instead of running to impress his father, he was running for his life. "GRAB HIM.", the scream Bo released pushed him to speed up, his calves and whole body really aching from the fall while his eyes remained glued ahead, knowing glancing back would do him no good. Only add to his raising panic, feeding a different level of adrenaline. With the rustling behind him signaling the nearing recapture, he vaulted the fence that stood between him and freedom, leaping onto the road and almost getting ran over by a white truck in the process. His hands rose up as to shield him as Sébastien saw his life flash before him for a second time that day before whoever was behind the wheel hit the breaks hard, forcing the vehicle to an abrupt stop inches away from him. "I'M CROSSING HERE, YOU FUCKING IDIOT.", he yelled and hit the truck's hood for good measure, and he would have been embarrassed by how high pitched the words were, if he wasn't absolutely furious. I'm a Gallagher-Kerring. His brain didn't even fully register the strange cross painted on the vehicle or how it matched the one on his pursuers' sweaters. "Get down.", a deep voice responded before a shot rang out and he ducked without a second thought, scrambling towards the side of the truck as bullets began flying. A rumbling noise sounded from the treeline, followed by a red light exploding in the sky. A flare.

Sébastien watched in horror, suspecting more trouble was headed his way when the gunfire died down as fast as it had started. "Hey.", a door slammed shut, making him move further away from the passenger's side of the truck while the same voice from before added, "You alive, jaywalker?" Boots crunched against the gravel as he rounded the front of the vehicle, his determined approach and the fact he was armed activating Sébastien's fight or flight instincts. "Stay back.", he hollered as a blond man, who couldn't have been older than him, came into view. "Easy now.", a laughter escaped him when he shoved his gun in the waistband of his jeans, his palm circled his own face then pointed at him, "Did you fall into a bush?" "No." "Got caught in the cattle fence as little ducky was crossing the road? Where's your mama?", Sébastien eyed his outstretched arm with suspicious before reluctantly grabbing it so he can help him up. He shook of the man's hold, putting safe distance between them as he braced for another attack. "Skydiving into a tree.", he muttered under his breath and a realization dawned on him, "YOU- YOU- DUCKY?" The stranger shrugged as he regarded him from head to toe before swiveling on his heel, "Yellow. Duck. Wasn't me who picked that outfit, chief. Would you rather me call you baby chick? That was option B. Felt too on the nose."

His anger rose back to the surface as the man climbed back into his truck and he spun to stare at him through the rolled down window, "You have no idea who you're talking to!" All he got initially was a slow, unimpressed blink, "Do tell, your Majesty?", he tapped his watch, an old looking thing, "But make it quick." "I-", his mouth snapped shut. A smirk came over the man across him, "Well? You shy? I'd start first, name's Calahan. Calahan Hartley. Your turn." "Sébastien Theodore Phoenix Sawyer Thatcher Landon Nicholas Gallagher-Kerring.", his full name spilled out, making him feel like he was at the front of his class, confusing everyone and then himself by the reaction it always got out of people. Blond eyebrows twisted in confusion before Calahan released a chuckle, the usual of recognition upon speaking the Gallagher-Kerring name nowhere in sight, "Wait. Are you actually for real?" "It's my name." "Jesus. Your parents hate you or something, bud?", he leaned back into his seat, giving him a first look at the bodies laying on the road a few feet away from them, the pools of blood making him woozy. In turn, Hartley seemed completely at ease, like he hadn't just taken out three men and potentially saved his life. Sébastien frowned, "No." Silence took over before Calahan cleared his throat and nodded at the passenger's side, "You need a ride?" "I will pass." "Be my guest, your Majesty, just a friendly word of advice… that red flare? Means more of those fuckers are coming as reinforcements and I ain't sticking around to play your bodyguard, I'm on a tight schedule. When they roll up, just say you're ready for your Cleansing and praise the Father."

"You're not one of them?" "Hell no." A sigh left Sébastien before his fingers lowered to the door handle, "They shot at me." "Their usual modus operandi with all of us locals. Where?" He pulled at his sleeve until the place where one of the bullets had grazed his upper arm peeked through, crimson marrying the yellow material. "Have seen worse, far worse." "Are you serious?" Mischief shone in his eyes, "You're gonna live, bud, I promise, giving ya the word of a Hope County Deputy. Last chance, are you hitching a ride with me or going for a Peggie pick-up? John is going to have a field day with ya." As he said that, he stepped on the gas enough for the vehicle to inch forward, clearly enjoying the precicament Sébastien had found himself in and how riled up he got at his words. "Who's John?", he asked as he settled into the passenger seat. "It's a long story, short one is: someone you don't want to mess with. How about you start tellin' me how you ended up here and why these three were chasing you?" "It's a long story.", Sébastien parrotted back, finding himself unable to shake off the bitereness at the man's previous comments. "Cheer up, your Majesty. I should be sulking at you for almost denting my truck, after the hassle it was to steal." "I have a name. And you stole a truck?" Calahan rolled his eyes, "Among other things. So, what should I call you for short because I ain't reciting that long-ass name back to you…"

His hands crossed over his chest as Calahan put the truck into drive, "Nothing." "Rubber ducky it is, then." "Maurizio's fine.", he grumbled, causing the Deputy to laugh again. So happy to be providing entertainment for you. "That wasn't even among the names you listed, chief. I think." "It's what friends call me." "Uh-oh, did I get upgraded to a friend?" "Absolutely not." "Ouch.", Calahan rubbed his chest, "Hurts almost as a bullet. You part of a dynasty?" "Something like that. Why were they shooting at me?" "Cult took over after we tried to arrest their leader, has the whole county on lockdown and communications cut off, hence why I was askin' how you got here." "What, I don't look like a local?" He snorted, "Do I start with your outfit, posh accent, or long name that won't fit on a name tag?" "I'm regretting my choice to hitchhike already." "Hey, no offense. You asked. Plus, you need to flag me down first, not jump out in the middle of the road like you're trying to trap me into paying you damages." Sébastien ignored the apology, "How do I get to Missoula?" "You listening to anything I just said? Or did you hit your head as you fell down? Lockdown." Denial seeped into his system at the fact he was stranded in the wrong place, "I need a ride to Missoula." "Can't do."

"I will pay you.", he patted the inside pocket of his suit, the wad of cash he carried around for emergencies giving him a sense of comfort. "As tempting as that sounds, we're in a middle of a holy war, so I can't be your personal driver." "I need to make a call then. You got a cell?" He had left his own behind, knowing his father would immediately track him down otherwise, now he kind of wished he would have left a trail to follow. Certainly, would have solved his 'stuck in the middle of a hostile conflict' problem promptly. Calahan groaned, "You truly ain't listening." The truck drove past a sign announcing they're entering 'Fall's End.', and his attention drifted off again, forcing his reluctant driver to call out his nickname. "What?" "I asked if you're fine making a quick stop on the way to the doctor's. I know you have to get that fatal wound treated ASAP." "Stop where?" Various structures lined the road on both sides, some burned down, others appearing like they had housed a face-off or two. "Here.", the vehicle rolled to a stop in front of a relatively spared building, the neon sign of a woman in just her bikini and a set of wings drawing his gaze. "A bar? It's barely past noon." He had no idea why he had even muttered that, considering he himself had participated in far worse activities in his lifetime, ones that often created a media storm Frank Gallagher-Kerring paid a fortune to bury. "You can stay in the car, posh boy. I won't be long."

Calahan didn't wait for his reply, quickly exiting the car without sparing him a look as he strutted inside the bar. "Fuck this.", Sébastien slammed the door with way too much force, contemplating if he should try to track down a working phone line, no matter how much he dreaded crawling back to his father that soon. This is hardly a proper rebellion. At the end, he dragged himself towards the bar, the bell's jiggle cutting off whatever conversation Calahan was having with a woman and by the knowing look she gave him, he was most likely the subject of it. "Mary May, this is…", Hartley paused, expecting he would just introduce himself, then turned around to shoot him a glance, "Humor me. I saved your life." "Sébastien Gallagher-Kerring." "Hilarious. You forgot like 20 names." "Whatcha drinking?", the blonde nodded his way. "Organic tea?" Before he knew it, she was placing a quick kiss against Calahan's cheek before backing away with an annoyed expression, "I hate you, you know that, Rookie?" "The feeling of being right.", he sighed and locked his hands at the nape of his neck, leaning back in the chair he was occupying. "Sorry, I'm lost.", Sébastien uttered out as he slid into the seat next to his. "You're in a bar in Montana.", Mary May began and placed an empty glass in front of him, "Closest you'd get to me making you tea, even at lunch is serving you lukewarm water with some of my spit in it. Organic." Calahan leaned in, whispering loudly, "Also known as blatant disrespect. Which I would advise against." "Damn right. You order liquor.", she chimed in as she poured him a drink, "With how pale you are, it might even do you some good."

"Man went through his first Peggie encounter, Angel." "And then Zorro got to his face and bold choice of outfit, too?" It was the second time someone had commented on his face, making him wonder if he wanted to see the damage done by his landing while his hand ran across his clean-shaven cheek. "Skydiving." At the same moment Calahan said, "Maurizio hugged a tree… and it hugged him back." "No wonder he asked for organic tea." "He is also in the room.", Sébastien retorted back before he brought the glass to his lips, hoping the alcohol look make his situation seem less hopeless, or at least take care of the constant dull pain in his arm. The bell chimed behind him, and while he ignored the sound, choosing to wallow in his bad luck, Hartley spun around in his seat and let out a low whistle directed at whoever had arrived. "Chief! Come meet a noble." "Noble?", there was humor in the newcomer's voice as he slapped his back and leaned against the bar. Sébastien could feel him staring and he reluctantly lifted his gaze, meeting a pair of friendly blue eyes. "See this face, ducky? You see someone like him but covered in tattoos and rambling about sin and the Power of Yes,", Calahan waves his hand towards the man's face like he was giving a lesson, "you run the other way. Preferably not in front of my truck." "Very funny, Cal.", the dark haired man grumbled out, before reaching his arm across him for a handshake, "Leslie Parish. Don't mind him. I look nothing like John." "Still in denial." "Sébastien Gallagher-Kerring." "Well, now that you two are acquainted, Les, do you feel like givin' me a hand and taking this one to the doc? Peggies gave him a boo-boo." After blowing a kiss to Mary May Calahan jumped out of his chair, pushing the door open just as Leslie finally realized he was being entrusted to take care of a complete stranger, "Should I expect trouble?" He smirked at the question, "From me or him? Both debatable."

Tagging @adelaidedrubman @socially-awkward-skeleton @strangefable @josephseedismyfather @josephslittledeputy @direwombat @purplehairsecretlair @jillvalentinesday @unholymilf @florbelles @madparadoxum @strafethesesinners @nightbloodbix @voidika @theelderhazelnut @clicheantagonist @wrathfulrook @dumbassdep @cassietrn @trench-rot @g0dspeeed @harmonyowl @aceghosts @shegetsburned @onehornedbeast and anyone that would like to share anything this week <3

Of mercy, rage and traitors

The Garleans' bodies laid still on the forest floor. Unconscious, some more hurt than others, all more fortunate than the man kneeling before her in forced penitence. Roots had taken hold of him, keeping him firmly on the ground, though he was still free to move his head to look at the Viera.

He didn't.

From her best guesses—his bruised face made difficult to see clearly—he was anticipating the movements of her boots. In fear they'd leave more contusions, certainly, though she hadn't touched him yet.

But Inge didn't move. She spoke, instead, each of her words enunciated clearly.

"I swore to myself a long time ago that I would help those in need and use my magic to preserve life over taking it.

I also promised my mother I would never leave our homeland... It has now been close to two decades since I have last seen her."

The Hyur stilled, his breath barely audible despite his broken nose and bloody mouth.

"You will listen and you will listen carefully, Laurentius Daye, because there are two things I absolutely detest in this world, and it is traitors and repeating myself.

Do I have your attention?"

No reaction. The tip of her staff pressed against his chin, forcing him to raise his head and meet her gaze.

"You can nod."

He nodded.

"Good."

The staff retreated as she breathed in slowly.

In involuntary mimicry, he did the same.

"We will return to Gridania together and you will not resist arrest. You will confess your crimes and take full responsibility for your actions. You will answer the Wood Wailers' questions in good faith and accept the judgement at the end of your trial. If you do so, I will ensure you are judged and treated fairly. If you do not or try to escape..."

She planted her staff at her side, her gaze never freeing the Hyur's.

"... I will find you again." She kept silent for a few seconds. "Is this arrangement amenable to you?"

He seemed to hesitate. With a flick of her hand, she lifted the silencing spell.

"You can speak. - Yes. - Yes, what? - I will do as you say. Ma'am. - We have an understanding, then."

Another flick of her hand and the roots that kept him in place returned to the soil. For a moment, she thought he was about to pick his lance and attack again. He didn't.

There was hope for him, it seemed.

"Get on your feet."

Arajin and Asamine. Aladdin and Jasmine. 🤔

I know 'person with secret to hide spots other person with secret to hide but doesn't say anything' is like. Thee trope in superhero crossovers, but come on! Some of these guys have been doing this for decades! There's tons of heroes that have gone to pretty extreme lengths to be Completely Imperceptible in civilian life.

Don't you think it's scarier, after all is said and done, to sit there and think I didn't notice a thing? I wouldn't have ever realised? I would never have known? To know that someone you were familiar with - close with, even! - had this whole other personality and skillset and powers and experiences and life just behind the curtain, and they hid it so completely you didn't even see it was there.

'I always knew there was something off' what if you didn't. How world shaking would it be to be so utterly blindsided? To know that this person had somehow learned to so deceptive?