#❝ all the girls in the village are mad for him. ❞ ( re; replies )

[apocalypticavolition]

Let's (re)Read The Dragon Reborn! Chapter 11: Tar Valon

I'm a day later with this than I would have liked so I'm cutting the crap. This post has spoilers for almost everything Wheel of Time and should not be read by people who don't like spoilers. Thank you.

This chapter has the Flame of Tar Valon icon because it's about Tar Valon. Also let's all take one last chance to giggle at the map. Let's hope that the Ogier Grove isn't the metaphysical equivalent of a herpes sore.

A square of pikemen marched along the streets, ranks and files bristling like a carding comb, followed by bowmen in flat, rimmed helmets, with filled quivers riding at their hips and bows slanted across their chests. A squadron of armored horsemen, faces hidden behind the steel bars of their helmets, gave way to Verin and her party at a wave of their officer’s gauntleted hand.

It's rather ironic that Siuan's increasing the security of the island and its nearby villages in her last few months in office since of course absolutely none of them will be able to do anything about the real threat to the Tower once it arrives.

Just the same, the balding man seemed to be taking his time about making sure each one had a right to enter Tar Valon before he let them go.

Is this just the man's actual nature, or is it a sign that Mesaana has arrived in Tar Valon and is corrupting the populace?

They say there’s a new false Dragon out west somewhere. Why, they even say he has Artur Hawkwing’s armies, back from the dead, following him, and that he killed a lot of Whitecloaks and destroyed a city—Falme, they call it—in Tarabon, some say.

Frankly it's good that the truth is at least vaguely recognizable in this, when absolutely none of it IS true.

Things had changed, and not for the better. When she had left Tar Valon, any man who spoke against Aes Sedai would have been lucky to escape with a punch in the nose from whoever overheard.

Again, is this Mesaana's doing? If not, then what's got the people who have the least business hating Aes Sedai so negative? The Whitecloaks aren't that convincing... though perhaps the troube with Elayne after so much else has gone wrong or weird has people losing their patience.

If she ever returned to Emond’s Field—the “if” hurt, but she had to be honest—if she returned, it would be to visit, to see her parents.

She never does and I'm still a bit angry at Sanderson for it. Jordan would certainly have expected her to return at some point, if only to visit Perrin.

Great buildings and small, in stone of every color, looking like shells, or waves, or wind-sculpted cliffs, flowing and fanciful, captured from nature or the flights of men’s minds. The dwellings, the inns, the very stables—even the most insignificant buildings in Tar Valon had been made for beauty. Ogier stonemasons had built most of the city in the long years after the Breaking of the World, and they maintained it had been their finest work.

Jordan dedicates so much space to how beautiful the city is that I have to share a little of it. It's a shame we don't get to enjoy Tar Valon more.

“I always expect trouble,” Verin replied placidly, “and so should you. In the Tower most of all. You must all of you be more careful than ever, now. Your . . . tricks”—her mouth tightened for an instant before serenity returned—“frightened away the Whitecloaks, but inside the Tower they may well bring you death or stilling.”

Verin is doing her best to warn the girls about the Black Ajah within the confines of the three oaths she's sworn.

“I cannot waste a day, Verin Sedai. Not another hour. I must return to Shienar, to tell King Easar, and Lord Agelmar, the truth of what happened at Falme. I must tell them about—” He cut off abruptly and looked around.

Yes Hurin, if you don't make a mad dash north then how will the monarchs of the Borderlands spend seventy-two books abandoning their posts to fulfill the world's lamest prophecy?

He was only a man, and helpless as a babe when it came to facing whatever might await them in the Tower. Yet his leaving made their number one less, and she could never help thinking that a man with a sword was useful to have around. And he had been a link to Rand, and Perrin.

You never hear about stuff like this in the big Egwene hatedom lists, about how she misses Rand and Perrin so intently she'll cling on to some dude who is only a loose connection to them for the sake of feeling closer to them.

Verin was already riding through the gates as he spoke. She rode as if there were no hurry.

Verin knows there isn't a hurry. She knows Mat's ta'veren and that the Pattern is weaving itself around him. She probably would have been much more concerned if she was getting to Tar Valon and was under the impression that Mat still had days to spare instead of hours because that would suggest that the Pattern was going to find a way to use them.

As the horses were led away into the stable, Verin took the leather sack from Mat’s feet and tucked it carelessly under one arm.

And again we see the proof that Verin is an incredible actress who could fool the Black Ajah for decades. Any of the girls would hold the bag with fear and reverence and thus make it clear to anyone who came to them that the bag was important, but anyone who sees Verin with it will probably assume she found a bunch of old books in a ditch somewhere and had to read them.

“We did not—” Egwene began, but Verin cut her off with a sharp, “BE SILENT!” Verin stared at her—at each of the three of them—as if the intensity of her look could hold their mouths shut.

Objectively speaking, it can and it does.

“I suppose,” Verin said, “that the whole Tower knows we have returned by now?”

See what I mean? Moiraine is crazy for thinking Min can make an unremarkable entrance.

“Not a word, Verin Sedai said, and not a word shall it be. If one of you speaks—except to answer an Aes Sedai, of course—I’ll make you wish you had nothing but a switching and a few hours scrubbing floors to worry about. Do you understand me?”

I don't know if Sheriam knows Verin is Black - obviously the cell structure is meant to stop would-be Verins from dismantling the organization from within - but if she does she's probably being extra thorough to enforce her rule on the assumption that it's part of their evil scheming.

And you three, who have more ability born in you than I ever hoped to see in my lifetime, left the Tower without permission, ran away not even half-trained, like irresponsible children, stayed away for months.

It's a pretty shitty thing to do to these girls's reputation to try and pretend that the Black Ajah doesn't exist, and of course it soon becomes a completely pointless gesture anyway. The Light side's efforts to engage in shadows and secrecy never really come to much for some thematic reason or another, bar Moiraine's mostly offscreen quest.

“Give over, Faolain,” another of the Accepted said. The oldest of the three, she had a willowy neck and coppery skin, and a graceful way of moving. “I will take you,” she told Nynaeve.

Our first introduction to Faolain and Theodrin! Rather funny that Egwene will use them to justify her own policies, considering how they meet. I always thought they were gonna get involved in something bigger towards the end, but they stay relatively bit players and that's probably for the best.

Egwene returned Faolain’s stare with as much calm as she could manage, and, she hoped, a measure of the haughty, silent contempt that Elayne had adopted. Red Ajah, she thought. This one will definitely choose the Reds.

She chooses Blue.

Next time: A Siuan POV!

[punnychef]

tag drop !! 

❝    we  both  had  an  awful  dream.    ❞    (  re;  jamie  )  

[cooliogirl101]

From a very young age, Obito's grandmother had cautioned him to guard his heart.

"There is nothing more dangerous than an Uchiha in love," she warned him. "If you're not careful, caring too deeply will destroy you, drive you to madness."

For a five-year-old Obito, all it took to fall in love were three words, coming from a girl with sparkling brown eyes and the brightest smile he'd ever seen.

"Hey, nice goggles!"

~~

Obito, as a general rule, tried to avoid thinking too much about Hatake Kakashi. As far as he was concerned, stupid Bakashi already had too many people thinking about him. It felt like Obito couldn't go five minutes without hearing the whispers of "prodigy" and "genius" and "future-Hokage" trailing Kakashi everywhere he went (and what really stung was that they probably weren't wrong-- what Obito worked at for hours upon hours to accomplish, Kakashi managed in minutes without breaking a sweat).

Obito thought he'd been doing a pretty good job of ignoring Kakashi all things considered, despite the other boy's annoying attitude and annoying hair and annoying voice and annoying mask and annoying everything. He didn't even care (much) about Kakashi's annoyingly large number of fangirls-- up until he noticed that Rin had also started watching him.

He lasted three days before he confronted her about it.

"Why're you watching Kakashi?" Obito blurted out. He'd considered straight up asking her if she had a crush on him-- like half the girls in their class, he thought bitterly-- but had chickened out at the last moment. He wasn't sure what he'd do if the answer was yes--probably something that would land him in detention again.

"He's walking home alone again," Rin said quietly, gaze still fixated on Kakashi's departing figure. "It's been weeks now."

"So?" Obito asked. "He walks home by himself all the time."

Rin shook her head.

"Only when his father's on a mission. Which he might be, I don't know, but given what happened--" Her voice trailed off. Obito didn't need her to complete the sentence, anyway. Everyone in the village knew what had happened on Hatake Sakumo's disastrous mission.

"We're going to follow him," Rin decided. That got Obito's attention.

"What? Why?" He wasn't whining. He wasn't.

"Because something's not right here. And until we figure out what it is, I'd feel better watching over him to make sure he's safe." She glanced at him and grinned. "Besides, this will allow you to practice your stealth skills. And my Henge skills. Think I can make a convincing bush?"

~~

Through some miracle, because Rin did not make a convincing bush-- bushes didn't move for one thing, nor did they have legs-- they managed to follow Kakashi back to the Hatake Compound undetected. The moment the compound came into sight, Rin jolted, her henge dropping away completely.

"Oh," she whispered, eyes widening. Obito swallowed, feeling rather sick to the stomach himself.

The wall of the compound was completely covered by graffiti. Obito clenched his fists, mouth going dry-- there were words on there that would make Obito's grandmother scrub his mouth with soap if he even thought of saying them but worse than that were the words scattered between the cursing and insults:

Failure

Disgrace

Weak

Monster

Shameful

Your fault

Your fault

Your fault

"Obito." Rin's voice was strangely calm.

"Y-Yeah?" Obito cleared his throat, tearing his gaze away from the Hatake Compound. Kakashi didn't deserve that, he found himself thinking. His dad didn't deserve it either. No one deserved that.

Rin glanced at him, eyes hard.

"Do you think your grandmother would be okay with you sleeping over at my house tonight?"

Obito blinked, then slowly began to smile.

"I think I can convince her."

"Great." Rin folded her arms across her chest. "How are your painting skills?"

~~

Of all the things Sakumo expected to find outside his house in the middle of the night, two kids wearing badly-made face masks painting his wall was not one of them.

"What are you guys doing?" Kakashi demanded, looking like he wasn't sure whether to be angry or confused.

"What does it look like we're doing, Bakashi?" The kid in the orange eye-mask retorted. "Everyone calls you a genius, figure it out."

This night was getting weirder and weirder, Sakumo thought bemusedly to himself.

"You're...vandalizing my house. At two in the morning," Kakashi replied. It looked like the confusion was winning out over the anger.

"It's not vandalism if it's done with good intentions," the girl in the purple eye mask said primly. Sakumo resisted the urge to rub at his eyes.

"Friends of yours, Kakashi?" Sakumo asked, and received an immediate flurry of responses.

"No, I hardly even know them, they're just some kids from my class--"

"Friends with Bakashi? No way, I--"

"Not yet at least."

Sakumo let them talk over each other, gaze drifting back over to the half-completed paint job. They'd...done a surprisingly good job, actually. He could barely see the words underneath anymore.

He held up a hand, causing all three kids to go quiet.

"Why?" He asked finally, addressing the two kids who apparently weren't friends with Kakashi and yet had gone to the trouble to do all...this.

"Why not?" the boy said defiantly, jutting his chin up. "We felt like it and your wall is messed up, so we're painting it to look better."

The girl remained silent for a beat longer, before turning to look him in the eye.

"Because you deserve better," she said. Sakumo's mouth twisted.

"I'm not sure I do," he murmured, almost inaudibly. He blinked as the girl suddenly narrowed her eyes, brandishing her paintbrush at him like a kunai.

"Don't say that," she hissed, glaring fiercely at him "Don't you dare say that! The first thing they teach us in the Academy is that your teammates always, always come first. You acted according to that and the fact that people are treating you like a monster for it is wrong."

"It's not that simple--"

"It's not your fault that Konoha is on the brink of war,” she interrupted sharply. "If you didn't trigger it, someone else would have. You don't teach five year olds wartime tactics if you're not expecting...if you're not preparing for a war. People don't want to admit that, so they look for someone to blame-- but that's their problem, not yours."

She turned around, re-coating her brush with paint.

"I can't make you believe me, Hatake-san. But what I can do is cover up this wall of yours. At the very least, Kakashi-kun doesn't deserve to look at this every day."

At that, Kakashi straightened up, scowling at her. If his glare seemed rather halfhearted, no one pointed it out.

"I don't need you to do it, I can do it myself," he grumbled.

"Great," the girl said without missing a beat. "While you're here, you can settle a debate between me and Obito-- hypothetically speaking, would you prefer snakes painted on the wall or dragons?"

"C'mon Rin, dragons are so much cooler, what kind of person would prefer snakes--"

"Obito, neither of us can even draw a dragon and besides, they summon snakes--"

"What? No we don't! We summon dogs!"

"Oh. Really? But your dad is called the White Fang. That wasn't a reference to snake fangs?"

"No!"

"Huh. Who summons snakes then? Someone summons snakes."

"Forget the snakes, is there a dragon contract I can sign?"

"They'd take one look at you and eat you, dead last."

"Shut up, Bakashi!"

Sakumo felt his lips twitch. He turned around to walk back inside, feeling lighter than he had in weeks.

And to think, he'd been worried about Kakashi making friends.

[hohoz]

How RE Village (8) SOLVED almost every problem that I had with RE Series

Okay - a few weeks ago I made a post that was “The ones that suffer the most” where I showed and explained my main problems with Chris and Jill and the RE series in general 

RE 1 is my fav game of this series and probably one of my all time favs, I player every RE there is to be played except 4 (because I dislike Leon, sry) 

Recently, specially after 4, the franchise had a few problems, specially in writing/map design/lore 

Resident evil 5 for example (I love this game) but it has it flaws, Chris there is only driven by anger and action - Sheva is used as a tool for lore exposition and to be Chris’s new partner 

PLEASE: be aware that game at that generation didn’t have much lore - with some exceptions, like God of War 1 2 3 were a simply game with a simple lore, and the most recent GoW has evolved a little bit in the storytelling

Until we hit rock bottom in RE6 - I know a lot of people like this game, but this is only and action game, bad writing and generic stages. 

Chris there is so mistreated that makes me mad (if you want to read more about this go to my other post “the ones that suffer the most”)

Until RE7 appeared, Capcom had a new engine and they wanted to do a game that was more horror like - since RE is know for being a Survival horror game.

I liked 7 - some people complained about Ethan being without emotion and others complained about the mold, a few didn’t like the FEAR vibes from Eveline. 

I personally enjoyed the game, I thought RE series was going back on track, that game has it’s problems but it was really nice compared to what we had in 6.

After that game I had a conversation with my best friend and I said that I wanted a game that portrayed Umbrella’s fall since the only game that shows this is Umbrellas Chronicles (and that is most a resume of what happened)

And I said: “Bro, I wish that when they made that game, they could tie some mythological lore and human evolution before Umbrella - using Spencer, this would solve LOT OF STUFF and open new ways to handle this series”

and guess what - this happened in RE8 and kudos to the one writer that did that, i have my gratitude. 

RESIDENT EVIL 8 is probably one of the BEST RE games that we had IN YEARS

And I want to address all thing that I loved in this game and do some predictions to what will happen in the next games.

“WELL WELL IF IT ISN’T ETHAN WINTERS” (The Father of the year)

My father was not a great guy... really, so I want to be the best dad ever, I really want be like Ethan - a guy who is ready to sacrifice and fight every monster in the way to save my family. 

Ethan was a character that in RE7 was used to make us fell like that it was us in the Baker’s house, so that is why he didn’t had that much personality (in my opinion) but they changed that in RE8, here he has nice dialogues AND a diary 

He has one of the best story line in the whole REverse, a guy that did EVERYTHING in his power to save his daughter - and you saw that playing the game, every sentence line that he delivered, he tried to save others too and even tho Chris said to him stay put ... but he couldn’t, he had to go to the altar, he had to help Chris, he had to go forward and keep going, specially after having the tools to face Heisenberg. 

The plea from a father, that was his last wish, after he heard that Mia was alive he knew that someone had to stop that monster, he made a promise to his daughter “Daddy won’t let those weird fairy tale monsters get you” so he trusted Chris, to be the one that teaches his kid how to be brave and strong

I will not address Chris and Rose situation here because this is Ethans part and he deserves completely all the spotlight, his sacrifice was 100x times better than Steve (CV)/Piers(6)

My cheers to Ethan Winters - You have my respect !

Revelations -> RE8 

So leaks from earlier times said that RE8 sucked and Revelations 3 was amazing

Revelations FYI is know for using old tales in RE stories 

Revelations 1 - Dante’s Inferno 

Revelations 2 - Frans Kafka 

Revelations 3 - Dracula 

But since RE8 sucked, Capcom said to the REV3 team that they could make REV3 become RE8 and they accepted 

Revelations series is one of the best in the games, they handle Jill in a way that I love, Claire and even Barry - so they deserve all the spotlight for making this awesome game - you CLEARLY can see that they love this series and that they treat all the characters with the love that they deserve. 

Keeping that in mind, they are the same team that made Rev 2 and in REV 2 we have this file here 

So they had a plan for Jill and we can see that in RE8 - I will address that later but keep that in mind - this team cares for the old characters, they were the ones that brought Barry back to the games :V 

Chris Redfield 

This is a hard one, because he is my fav character and I usually have the most critics regard him, since I’ve expect a lot from Capcom 

In the latest games they made him kind dumb, only muscles type of guy and an alcoholic that let all the people in his surroundings die (RE5,RE6,Vendetta) 

RE6 treats him the WORST

But in RE8 he had an amazing part in the storyline, it was obvious that he wasn’t evil and they FIXED HIS EYE COLOR - FINALLY 

I still don’t like the model face that much but it’s way better than 7 - so I believe Capcom, I still feel that he need more jawline 

But let’s go to the most important thing - here he really feels like a squad leader and a veteran, he has his team but he is the one in the front line, he covers and ask for help when he needs, everything about his line delivery makes you feel like “Woah, this guy is a badass, he is not some stupid guy only driven by emotions”

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR FINALLY GETTING THIS RIGHT 

If you remember my post about the ones that suffer the most / Jill is also in that list and I will talk about her a little bit later but if my guess is right RE8 saved her character aswell

Another thing that I enjoyed here is the fact that he is kind of a mercenary / Neo Umbrella kind of guy, even tho he is one of the founders of the BSAA

So I will give you all my score to this game: 

9/10

I won’t give 10/10 because of some technical issues, the cursor lock didn’t work and mouse sensitivity was i dunno, not the best. 

RE8 and the future (PREDICTIONS)  - Jill Valentine, Chris Redfield, BSAA, Neo Umbrella, Ada Wong and Rosemary

First let’s look Rose

The first time I saw Rose all grown up - I thought to myself : She has the same problem as Eveline (age a lot faster than normal) 

But she also absorbed Miranda’s power since the metalicite (something like this) thought that she was a better host. - so maybe she will live longer or something because I doubt that they will do a 14 years time skip. 

This is not the same as Terra Save logo (Claire’s job) but it kind reminds me of it - her shoes appeared at least 3 times in this cut scene so maybe they are trying to show some hints with this 

She really reminds me of Jodie (Beyond two souls, a game where a girl has a lot of power and the gov uses her in missions and stuff, but she also is learning how to be her own person) 

Another thing here is that they don’t have a logo in this car, it really reminds me the car that Chris as using in RE8 

This supports the theory that Chris’s organization is dealing with her instead of the BSAA, the she is a hot headed girl and that she had a lot of powers. 

So here you can say that she is just a kid because she is a teenager, but what if she actually grows older really fast (like Eveline) maybe this is just 1 year later / 2 yrs later. (after RE8)

So this is the tricky part, this is Chris’s guard/soldier, someone that Chris trust to stand by her side, in my mind I do believe that Chris is kind of a father figure to her, so when this guys says this he is thinking about hot head Chris but she replies “Yeah” thinking about Ethan - (she has the mold memories, so she can actually remember Ethan’s memories) 

Now let’s look at this 

BSAA 

So in REV1 is hinted that BSAA is not the best organization in the world, but since our heroes work there we think that they are the good guys right ? 

In REV 2 (it’s important to remember that the team that created RE8 is the same from the REVELATIONS and they had this file here in REV2)

This email is from Jill and what does Jill have ? T-Virus 

Wesker is a different case since he was a project and she had the vaccine but this would make a lot of sense if they had this tests with Jill to get the T-Virus

If that is the case, they explained Jill’s absence in the main games, could even explain why Chris left BSAA and opened a new window to a lot of possibilities 

My Predictions: 

- Chris had trouble dealing with BSAA and Jill’s case, he wanted to get her out of there, maybe he removed her from there but that resulted in him being expelled from the force

-Jill may or may not know what they are doing with her blood, but she will have a huge part in the BOW used by BSAA 

-Chris is married to Jill (sorry- I had to place this here, in a perfect world he has two kids with her and they all love aunt Rose) 

-Chris will hopefully be a father figure to Rose and they will be in a game together since in the end they came to get her

-Rebecca is still involved in BSAA activities (leak from new REV3) if you consider Vendetta canon, she maybe the one that used Jill’s sample of blood to create the virus soldiers

-Barry maybe retired 

-I don’t think Leon will be in this game, but he will get his RE4 Rmk 

- I do believe RE9 will be release after Code veronica rmk and MAYBE they will do a game about Umbrella’s Fall (Chris and Jill in Europe against Red Queen and BOWs) 

But that is it, you can see a lot of elements from old RE games in RE8, they tried to do something really smart and the game felt amazing to play, that was something else and it’s been a while since a player a RE game that made me feel that way <3

[cafeinthemoon]

The Home I Crave - Chapter 5

Title: The Home I Crave

Genre: Fanfiction

Pairing: Tobirama Senju x reader

Rating: teen and up

Word count: 2577

Chapter: /?

Symbols: ⭕ | ➕ | 💛 | ▶️▶️

Read the previous chapter here: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

Thanks to Mito Uzumaki’s help, you’ve learned everything you needed to know to understand the daily routine of Konoha, though you’d only start to think of it as your home when you were at your own house, managing your own tasks – or so you hoped. You still had to think of how your life under the same roof as Tobirama Senju would be, and no matter the direction your guesses in this sense would take, they all led you to the same place: whatever it was expecting you there, it shouldn’t be less than a challenge.

During those days, with the work regarding the treaty, your communication with your parents, who kept you informed about everything that was going on at the compound (to whom you had to reassure about your well being in every message even when they had a brief conversation with Mito before they left) and the moments you’ve spent with Hashirama’s wife, you have been avoiding any question on this topic, only speaking about it when you were doing something directly connected to the ceremony, such as trying your clothing while the dressmaker made the necessary adjusts and to discuss the hair style. The messages from Tobirama’s part were brief and few, always directed to his brother and only to keep him in touch about the mission in the Land of Wind.

The first and only exception was the last one, which was written to you.

You received it from the Hokage himself, who took a moment at lunch time to leave the office and bring it to you. You startled when Hashirama offered you the roll with the message guarded inside a seal like an official letter. You read the writing on the seal and recognized the category used in the correspondence between your clan and its allies, including the Senju. You have opened this type of message countless times during your work as the head’s eldest daughter.

- I mentioned in one of my letters that you know how to break this type of seal, since you did it many times while working with your father – he explained – He must have remembered this detail when he decided to send it like this.

- I see – you mumbled, looking at the seal – Well, I would never expect him to remember something that was only mentioned once.

Hashirama smiled.

- You do not know him yet, y/n-san. To be honest, I myself didn’t remember it until I saw this roll. But my brother’s brain works differently.

You were about to ask if such measure was really necessary in this type of mailing, but then you considered Hashirama’s last words. You accepted the roll from his hand and put it on a small table close to you. Using the habitual hand signs, you broke the seal; a thin column of smoke covered the roll for an instant, then disappeared to reveal a common paper sheet.

You took the letter and found a steady, verticalized calligraphy distributed in three brief paragraphs, after which you saw his name written in a slightly wider style.

This was what you read:

To my betrothed, from the … clan:

Y/n-san, since this is the first time I write to you, it is only natural to expect this letter to be one of a particular nature, in which I would express my feelings towards our engagement and the perspective of returning to Konoha to finally meet you. However, the circumstances force me to write about a different topic. I hope you understand the situation and do not take it as a sign of discontentment or disinterest from my part.

According to the plans established between me and the Hokage, my return to the village was settled for tomorrow, but an unforeseen event will require my presence in the Land of Wind for a longer period, so that my stay here will extend for more three days. I have searched for all the possible alternatives to this problem, but the best arrangement I could get was this one. Considering the distance between the Land of Wind and the Land of Fire, the time our entourage will need to organize everything before the journey home and my personal preparations for the ceremony once we are back, our wedding will be delayed in at least … days. I apologize for this inconvenience, with which I myself am displeased.

Finally, I hope we make amends for this in the name of our clans and in an act of decency as shinobi allies during our encounter. I ask you not to reply this message, both because I will not have enough time to write you an adequate response and because I will send another letter with news if necessary.

Sincerely,

Senju Tobirama

You spent a moment in silence, staring at the paper, re-reading some parts of the letter, trying to absorb the message in it and all its undertones, just like you did when you talked to Mito, during the walking at the river and when you found the portrait. Still, the difference between all those signs and this letter – the first and only time when you saw him speaking for himself – couldn’t be denied.

You must have stood there, quiet for a long time, for Hashirama came to your side and asked you about the message’s content.

- Is everything okay with him? What does he say here? You seem worried.

You blinked and raised your eyes to him.

- He says that something happened unexpectedly and he will have to stay in the Land of Wind for more three days. The ceremony’s date will have to be changed.

You passed the letter to Hashirama, so he could see for himself. His eyes would go from one side to another, passing over the lines with gravity. When he finally looked at you again, you didn’t like what you read in his eyes.

- I didn’t sent him alone on this mission because I knew that this could happen – he sighed – I know exactly what he’s talking about, and despite being a complex task, any of the people who I sent with him could stay behind and finish it. They’re perfectly capable for this. But convincing my brother to do this is something I can’t do at this distance.

He gave you the letter back and you folded the sheet with a weight in your heart. The first letter you received from your future husband and the only thing he had to say was about a delay in your encounter. Not that you were entirely surprised – he was the Hokage’s advisor, after all; he was used to have many things depending on him. But couldn’t help thinking that this would be a constant in your life together.

You didn’t say any of this to Hashirama, though. When he asked if you were okay, you just smiled.

- Guess we will have to wait and see what happens. Let’s think of this as an advantage: we will have more time to prepare things here. If we consider that we haven’t had much of it, we cannot waste this opportunity.

The Hokage nodded.

- If you say so.

Hashirama didn’t say a word about it, but it was clear that he noticed your deception, for he looked at you as if saying he couldn’t believe his brother did something like that again. You decided not to concentrate in this, doing as you yourself just said and taking the extra time to work on the preparations for the ceremony.

***

Now, the day of the wedding came, you were dressed with the emblems of your clan in evidence, your hair was done and your face was covered with the delicate makeup you chose despite the protests of the girl who was responsible for it, who affirmed from five to five minutes that a bit more of color would sett off your naturally beautiful traits, only stopping when you told her that if she kept insisting on it, you would steal the brushes from her and do your makeup yourself. To you, wearing the vibrant tones of your clan’s traditional clothing was enough to set off anything in your appearance.

During the week before the wedding, your father sent an entourage with representatives who transmitted you the respects from himself, your mother and your other relatives: according to what was establish in the meeting, your parents stood at the compound to take care of their own work beside your second and third sisters. You knew that Tobirama would arrive at Konoha just the night before, and in fact he did, for a brief message was sent from his part thanking you all for taking care of things while he was away and explaining that he would need that night and the next day all alone to prepare himself, only meeting you, his family and the representatives of your clan during the ceremony.

At the Hokage’s residence, you had a brief exchange of words with Mito and Hashirama, after which the Uzumaki explained that she was going to take you to a private room where you would wait until the groom’s arrival.

- He will see you there and will be the one to lead you to the temple – she explained; and, with a clever smile – Don’t worry about the waiting. He’s not going to get late.

You looked from Mito to Hashirama, who was smiling too, and then back to Mito.

- My brother is too attached to punctuality to let himself get late – he replied to the question you didn’t make – I bet he’s still mad about what happened in the Land of Wind.

Mito nodded to show her agreement, then turned to you.

- So, I think everything’s ready. Shall we?

You shook your head instead of verbalizing a response. Finally, it came the moment.

Hashirama wished you luck and told Mito he would be waiting for her in the Hokage’s place at the temple. He approached her and gave her a kiss on her temple; you looked away in a gesture of modesty.

When he left, Mito asked you to follow her through less used corridors in her house, until what you found out to be one of the rooms you didn’t receive permission to enter. She opened the door, stepped into it and invited you in.

The room was not as large as the door suggested while you were outside, but it had a decent size and the simple furniture was well organized. At its north side you saw a window that would go from one wall to the other, and was low enough for the glass to reach your hips; there were no curtains to cover it.

You turned to Mito and found her still at the door. You came to her, not ashamed to confess how nervous you were.

- Time will feel like an eternity if I wait here all by myself, Mito-san – you commented, holding your hands together in front of your body – But I understand you have to go.

That time, she not only had a smile to you, but a tight hug and assuring words.

- Everything will be fine, because you’ve worked hard for this, y/n-san – she whispered – It is an honor to receive you as part of the family.

- Thank you so much for this – you returned the hug.

Mito Uzumaki said she was going to join her husband and wished you the best, leaving right after. The door was closed and you were left with only yourself to rely on while you waited.

You were about to move away from the door and back to the window when your eyes caught something unusual on its polished wood. You looked closer at it and identified a pattern of signs that formed a seal. You’ve never saw that seal before, and neither you were able to tell to which category it belonged, for it was nothing like the seals you knew. Could it be a protection seal that would only allow the right people to enter the room, or something else?

You raised your hand to touch it to see if something would happen, helping you to find an answer. Your fingertips passed through the marks, but there was no texture, temperature variation or anything that asserted their existence besides the fact that you could see them, as if they were just part of the door. Maybe if you were a sensor, you could identify the presence of chakra in it, but unfortunately for you, that was out of your reach.

- This is my Hiraishin mark.

You screamed so loud that you weren’t sure if what scared you most was that deep voice speaking out of nowhere or your own with the scare. You moved away from the door to the other extremity of the room, throwing a kunai you were hiding under your sleeve at the voice’s direction, but gave up on an attack once you saw the owner of the voice – he was the man of the portrait, with his white hair and the red lines on his face, but dressed in the Senju fashion instead of the blue armor. Upon the left side of his chest, between the folded fabric of clothing, he carried a tiny, white flower. He had no difficulty to deflect the blade: he moved his head from its way, grabbing the weapon’s base with his left hand.

You spent the next instants in silence, waiting for your breath to return to its normal rhythm, just staring at him, who had his last word swallowed by your scream and gave up on whatever he was going to say after it: after approaching you and giving back your kunai, he just kept looking at you, only then understanding that his sudden appearance inside a room with its door closed would scare anyone inside it.

So, that was your betrothed. That was Tobirama Senju. It was as Mito told you: if the date she gave to the portrait was correct, he haven’t aged a day. He was almost as tall as his brother, and the paleness of his skin wasn’t just an impression produced by the lens; it was his natural tone.

He wasn’t scared or bothered by your reaction; he didn’t even startled, confirming the idea you had about his unusual self control. The only thing you noticed in him was a hint of disappointment, which was soon explained by his next words:

- As I was about to say, this is the seal of my Hiraishin – he approached the door and touched the mark – It is a teleportation jutsu that I created some years ago. I have put it here to prevent a delay in our encounter – and with a sigh – I’ve talked about this measure with my brother, so I thought you were informed about it. But as I can see, he forgot to mention it to you.

Tobirama bowed his head at you in a brief but respectful gesture.

- I apologize for my sudden entrance, as well for my brother’s lack of attention. This is far from what is expected from a decent first meeting. Now, let me introduce myself properly – and raising his hand to his chest, right below the flower – I am Tobirama from the Senju clan, the Hokage’s brother and advisor, and the representative of the Senju in this new alliance between our clans.

[gaming-universe]

Who We Are || Russell Adler

Call of Duty Black Ops: Cold War

-PART FOUR-

Warnings: SPOILERS FOR CALL OF DUTY BLACK OPS: COLD WAR! IF YOU HAVEN’T PLAYED/FINISHED THE CAMPAIGN THEN PLEASE DONT READ! Gore, violence, course language, mature content.

Summary: Betrayed and alone after surviving the events that took place on the Solovetsky Islands, Y/n ‘Bell’ L/n faces new and more dangerous threats when she learns that Perseus has other plans for his failed nuclear detonation of Europe. It was only a matter of time before Y/n came face to face with her old team. There is unfinished business between Y/n and Adler, as this operation proves to be more deadly than originally thought.

Author’s Note: So, after finishing the campaign, I needed to do Bell/Player and Adler justice. I loved this game so much, and chosing to play as the female character, I felt like there was a genuine connection between Bell and Adler throughout the game. There is a tag list open for anyone that wishes to stay up to date with the series. Simply comment below. Gif by @travelllar (Girl I’m using all your gifs they are absolutely amazing)

|PART ONE| |PART TWO| |PART THREE|

Another day, another sleepless night.

It was 5am, the sky a light deep blue, and the last of the Soviet soldiers were leaving town. They had searched almost every square inch of this small fishing village, searching for anyone that might be harboring the ones who broke into their base. You thanked whatever god there was that they seemed to forget about Viktor’s house, which was practically veiled by the night sky on a hill below the lighthouse.

You had been awake since one that morning, watching the Soviet soldiers busy about the town like flies on a wound. As dawn broke, you sighed heavily, closing your tired eyes and pinching the bridge of your nose. Your head throbbed painfully from the lack of sleep, but between your nightmares, reoccuring memories and the ruckas of the soldiers, you doubted you would have slept much at all anyway.

The door to the house opened softly, followed by light footsteps as they moved behind you to stand on your left. You didn’t have to turn to see who it was, the familiar stench of cigar smoke almost made you choke. You could see Adler in your peripherals just fine, you rolled your eyes in mild annoyance. “Do you always have to wear those aviators?” You found yourself asking, as the man in question began to chuckle. You heard him sigh “No, I don’t always have to wear them”.

“Do you have to wear them at 5am in the morning?”

“I suppose not-”

“Good, because you look stupid”.

Adler laughed again, releasing a stream of smoke from his lips as he shook his head in amusement. But doing as you had somewhat suggested, Adler removed his aviators, and hooked them over one of the open buttons of his shirt. The two of you stood in silence, watching as the sky began to turn an early morning grey. Adler huffed more smoke “Did you sleep last night?” He questioned lowly, now leaning his back against the white wooden railing and turning his head towards you.

Looking at him from the corner of your eye, you merely shrugged. “I don’t sleep much, not anymore...” You replied smoothly, now wishing that you had never said anything to begin with. You focused your gaze forward again as Adler’s expression fell, he brought the cigar to his lips. You watched as the waves danced in the early morning sunlight, remembering what is was like to be at their mercy. Adler moved closer to your form, flinching slightly as he watched your hands clench into tight fists. You flexed your fingers with a small wince, a sense of pride washing over you as you examined your bruised knuckles.

“How is your jaw?”

“Fucking sore, but thanks for asking”.

You laughed. A soft, genuine laugh as you finally turned to meet Adler’s gaze. His blue hues stared down into your (eye/colour) eyes with a mixture of emotions. His lips parted slightly as he went to speak, clearing his throat awkwardly. “I know you hate me, for everything I have done to you. Nothing I do will ever make up for the amount of shit I have put you through, but you have no idea how hard it was for me to do what I had to do...” He began, his grip on his cigar tightening. “I didn’t want to kill you, I really didn’t. But Park convinced me that killing you was better than the other option-”.

“And what would the other option have been?” You interrupted, folding your arms over your chest. Adler’s jaw clenched, “Letting you go through life not knowing who you were”. You scoffed loudly, stepping away from the taller man before you as you shook your head in disbelief. “She really convinced you that killing me was better than that!? Sure, I might not have ever figured out who I was before, but what was it you said to me after Cuba? ‘The CIA re-invented me’. I could have started a new life, Adler, and you fucking took that away from me” You growled, your eyes narrowing dangerously as you practically seethed with anger.

You paused for a moment to breathe, brushing stray strands of hair from your face as the wind blew in. There was so much more you wanted to say to him, so much you wanted to curse him for.

“Last night you asked me if I regretted it. If I regretted shooting you that day...” Adler spoke softly, almost painfully as his eyes suddenly became a darker shade of blue. “I regretted it, every single goddamned day afterward. And do you want to know why? Because a part of me hoped that you were alive. After you fell I...I hoped to god that you would resurface, that you would have survived that fall. But as the days went by, I realised you weren’t coming back, and that affected me, Y/n, it really did. When Woods and Mason found heard about what I did, they left, and you have no idea how pissed off Hudson was when he found out-”

“I would say just as pissed off as when he discovered that I was the Perseus Agent willing to defect and help the CIA take him down”.

Adler froze, his eyes widening significantly. For the first time in what you assumed was a long time, Adler was speechless. He stared at you completely dumbfounded, his mouth opening and closing as he searched for something to say. “I...w-what are you-”

“A few days before the whole incident at the airstrip, I sent an enrypted message to the CIA, telling them that I was willing to cooperate and answer any questions they might have had in regards to Perseus in exchange for asylum. I guess my message didn’t reach you in time-”

“But, if you were...” Adler trailed off, once again trying to make sense of things “Why didn’t you tell us? When we found you-”

“Things got a lot more complicated when Arash shot me, I think defecting was the last thing on my mind as I lay bleeding out in that car” You finished explaining, shivering slightly at the cool breeze. Adler hadn’t said a word since you finished your long explaination. He paced back and forth, running a hand along the back of his neck as he sighed heavily. You felt yourself tremble as his gaze focused on your form, he looked at you differently.

He looked at you the same way Mason had before Cuba, with pity, sadness, and empathy. “Y/n I...I’m so sorry, if I-” “Don’t apologise...” You interrupted, shrugging your shoulders awkwardly “I’m not mad about that. Actually, I am, but that isn’t the main issue”. Adler nodded, trying to regain his composure with a long draw of his cigar. You buried your hands beneath your arms, not wanting the man before you to notice their trembling. Clearing your throat, you averted your gaze back out to sea “Did you want to talk about last night, or did you want to wait for Woods and Mason?” You asked, trying to hide the slight shakiness of your voice.

You heard Adler sigh, “Y/n, I have to call Hudson. He needs to hear everything from us, and he will no doubt want to hear everything from you”.

Your blood turned to ice, a cold shiver running down your spine at his words. Call Hudson? You felt your stomach churn uneasily, you swallowed thickly and nervously. There was no way of telling how Hudson would react, how he would-

“Y/n...” Adler spoke softly, now standing before you with his eyes searching your distant expression for anything. Something that would give him an insight into what was going on in that head of yours. You turned to face him, looking up at him sadly. “You do what you need to do. But I just-”

“I know, I’ll take care of it. You can trust me-”

“Can I? Can I trust you?”

When Adler’s expression fell, you felt a strange sense of guilt consume you. You didn’t mean to be so hesitant toward him, you didn’t mean to be careful with who you trusted. But after everything that had been done to you...after everything that had happened...

You froze as Adler moved to step around you, your body becoming rigid as something warm was draped over your shoulders. It was then that you realised you had been shaking violently, and that Adler had given you his beloved brown leather jacket. You quickly spun around to face him, managing to catch the fleeting smile he gave you. Then you knew.

Adler understood. He understood where you were coming from. That you needed time to trust him again. “Like you said last night...” He began softly, giving you a barely there smile “no more lies, no more bullshit. Take things in your own time, but I want that jacket back, got it?”. With that being said, Adler turned slowly and made his way back inside, leaving you alone on the wooden terrace. When you were sure he was gone, you wrapped Adler’s jacket around your form tightly and collapsed to your knees, crying softly as strange, compassionate feelings overtook your worry, anxiety and guilt.

When you had calmed down, you leaned back against the wooden railing, letting your head rest against the wooden slats as you breathed deeply. You tried to ignore the scent of Adler’s jacket filling your nose, a mixture of old leather combined with cigar smoke and some kind of cologne.

As the sun began to peak through the grey clouds blanketing the islands, you decided that it was best for you to head inside. You still had the matters of last night to discuss, as well as the oh so joyous anticipation of waiting for Hudson to arrive.

After changing into more comfortable and warmer clothes, you begrudgingly gave Adler back his jacket, giving him a warm smile in thanks before disappearing into the living room. 

Woods and Mason were playing poker with Viktor, and losing horribly. “How the fuck did you manage to get another royal flush?” Woods complained, this his cards down atop the coffee table with an annoyed groan “I swear you’ve rigged the damn thing”. Viktor chuckled, gathering his winnings with a sly wink in your direction as you passed. “When you have played this game for as long as I have, you learn all the tricks of the trade” He responded, as Woods threw his hands out in exasperation.

You watched on from the far wall, grinning as Mason caught your gaze. He waved you over “Hey Y/n, did you want to join us?” He asked, to which you shook you head with an amused scoff. “No thanks, I would like to keep my money-” “Wuss...” Woods teased “I’ll play for you” “No, I’m good thank you, but I appreciate the offer”.

Woods groaned again as Mason laughed, while Viktor practically bled them both dry. Adler emerged from the kitchen, moving to stand by your side. “Adler, lend me some money, I need beat this old man at least once!” Woods exclaimed, gesturing towards Viktor with an extended hand. Adler shook his head “No, I’m not doing that” He replied, glaring at Woods��� obscene gesture thrown in his direction. You chuckled quietly, looking up at the man beside you with a small shrug. “How did you go?” You asked, not liking the way his gaze fell. He huffed “Hudson has a few things to take care of in Washington before he gets here, but he plans on arriving sometime tonight”.

“Well, I guess we can’t really do anything until we inform him of what is going on then?”.

“We can prepare what we are going to say? Combine our knowledge”.

You nodded hesitantly “I really don’t know much. But whatever those soldiers were doing up there is in relation to something called Operation Hyrda”. The entire living room fell silent, as all eyes now focused on you. “Operation Hydra? What the hell is that?” Mason asked, his eyes narrowing in confusion. You sighed “From what I’ve remembered, Operation Hydra is a failsafe for Operation Greenlight. Reading that name back in that bunker triggered something. All I know so far, is that Perseus and I are the only ones who know of the failsafe”.

“And because we brainwashed you, you can’t remember what this Operation Hyrda entails” Adler interrupted, his eyes remaining trained on your smaller form. You nodded as Adler cursed, cringing at his dangerous tone “I’m trying to remember, if that helps-”

“I know you are, we’ll figure it out” Adler spoke distantly, before once again disappearing back into the kitchen. You sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of your nose with a groan. If only you could remember something, even if it was small. Every little detail counted right? A gentle hand was placed on your shoulder, causing you to flinch as your eyes lifted to meet the warm expression of Mason. “Hey, don’t beat yourself up about this...” He soothed “it’s not your fault you can’t remember”.

“I know, but knowing that I’m missing something important is just...” You paused, breathing deeply in through your nose and out through your mouth “I feel so fucking useless”.

“You might feel like that now, but it won’t always be like this...” Woods spoke solemnly from his position on the couch. “Sure, it might take you a while to remember things, but you will get there. Just don’t be so hard on yourself, alright?”. You nodded slowly, allowing his words to sink in. Though Woods did have a point, you couldn’t help but feel like a burden to the team.

As your lips parted to respond, there was a sharp knock at the door. Your head tilted to the side in confusion, your gaze meeting Woods and Masons’ who wore similar expressions. Adler emerged from the kitchen, carefully moving past you and Mason towards the front of the door. You waited anxiously as two voices echoed down into the living room. As footsteps approached, your body became rigid as Adler moved past you to stand on the other side of the room, followed by a woman you knew all too well.

Her midnight hair was slightly longer, but her brown eyes widened upon landing on your form before her expression hardened. All you could do was glare at Park, as she stood in the doorway to the living room.

Tag List: @pookolokon @travelllar @basicwhiteasian @shellshockedbell @inteligentecat @staryozora @lovinggooppalacebanana @ktdragonborn @quietblogs-2-rd @cerezi @alluringartangels​

[jokertrap-ran]

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Charlie’s 6✩ Inspiration: Midsummer’s Gilt [仲夏鎏金] Date Translation (END 1: Do Nothing)

“While it’s true that I don’t like attending birthday banquets, it is not in line with my personality to spend my birthday in such a low-key, simplistic, manner.”

*Light and Night Master-list | Charlie’s Personal Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *6✩ Inspirations have 6 Endings!! *Charlie’s tag will be #For Night, For Paradox

✥ Choice: Do Nothing [都不做]  

Thinking about it, I still didn’t know how to go about celebrating his birthday. In the end, I could only resort to falling back on our original plan to go to the swan lake.

There were many attractions in the scenic area, but I wasn't really into any of it, absent-mindedly going through them all. The matter of his birthday present never once left my mind.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

It was evening by the time we got back to the farmhouse. I quickly went to open my luggage, rummaging through it and contemplating if I had anything that could work as a birthday gift.

MC: This earring and this bracelet… should do the trick after slight adjustments, right?

After thinking it through, I went to look for the owner to borrow some of her tools. I removed the metal earring fittings and improvised a new re-decorated bracelet out of it.

MC: I hope he doesn't dislike it… No, if he doesn't like it, then I won't give it to him! Hmph!

I tucked the small gift away inside my bag to give it to him afterwards.

Outside the window, the moon quietly climbs to the peak of the sky. I looked out beyond, lapsing back into my thoughts.

MC: I wonder if I can make it up to him once we get back to Guangqi City…?

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

After dinner, the night gradually grew darker.

Having changed into my pyjamas, I was just about to close the windows when I suddenly heard a commotion coming from outside.

It sounded like a lot of people were gathered in one place, chattering along with the joyful cries of children.

MC: What's going on!?

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Curious, I crossed the yard and walked out of the back door. I was immediately dumbfounded the instant I opened the door.

The originally empty plain had somehow accommodated a helicopter from somewhere. Charlie was standing by the helicopter’s door with his head bowed as he adjusted his shirt collar.

There were many villagers from around the area beside him. The old, the young, the boys, the girls; some of them taking photos, some of them discussing within their midst.

Little Boy: Big bro, do you really mean what you said earlier?

Charlie: But of course; I never lie.

Little Girl: Wow! I'm gonna get dad to bring me to a good spot right now!

Little Boy: Wait a minute, me too!

A couple of kids fussed about wanting to get to higher ground, to which Charlie only smiled at. The sides of his mouth curled upwards as he let out a soft snort, an inconcealable look of pride on his face.

Suddenly, I can’t help but have a very bad feeling about this new turn of events. I subconsciously turned to flee.

Charlie: I haven't even gone looking for you yet, and here you are.

Charlie: Looks like we truly have an affinity with each other.

A big hand lands on my shoulder, making me unwittingly turn around only to face his triumphant expression.

MC: And what are you trying to pull again? What's with this helicopter here?

Charlie: I'm going to take you for a spin.

MC: ……

MC: I'm going to bed. Good night.

I turned to leave again, but the same hand landed on my shoulder once more, this time backed with an irrefutable strength as he dragged me up into the helicopter.

Ten minutes later.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Chuf, chuf, chuf.

The sound of the helicopter’s propeller reverberated in my ears. I’d eventually given up struggling against him; and now, I sat next to him blankly, decked in pyjamas and slippers.

Charlie: Why so quiet? Are you scared of heights?

MC: Har, har, very funny. Just think of it as me being sleepy.

Charlie: Then, you’d do well to wake up; because what’s coming up next is something worth remembering for a lifetime.

MC: ...What?

Charlie: I did give my birthday some serious thought.

Charlie: While it’s true that I don’t like attending birthday banquets, it is not in line with my personality to spend my birthday in such a low-key, simplistic, manner.

MC: ……

Charlie: Plus, my fiancée worked so hard to prepare so many surprises for me. So, I have to give her a gift in return, won’t you say?

He’d only just said that when a loud bang sounded from outside the window.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

I saw fireworks blooming behind him, suddenly lighting up the night sky, as well as the hand that Charlie had started to reach out towards me.

My eyes widened in surprise. I'd totally forgotten that reactions were a thing. And that was how Charlie had pulled me over to admire the scenery outside the window together.

And that was how the gorgeous fireworks bloomed seemingly near, yet far. It was almost as if one could simply reach out and touch them.

The boundless night sky was skin to a long and endless river, while the fireworks resembled the starry sky, reflected on the surface of the river. We were seated atop a small boat, free to move and traverse this galaxy as we so wished.

I couldn't help but raise my hand, pressing it against the glass window and fixing my eyes firmly to the fireworks blooming outside.

Charlie: What? So moved that you could cry?

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Charlie's voice snapped me out of my reverie. I glanced at the handkerchief that held out before me and turned away with a huff.

MC: Thanks, but I’m not that easily moved.

MC: And these fireworks… It’s really beautiful, but please don’t do such overly exaggerated things in the future.

Charlie: So you're already contemplating how to celebrate my future birthdays?

MC: I'm not…

My eyes dilated in rage, yet the flicker of flames died out the moment I raised my head.

Reflected within those twin violet orbs of his were the flashing lights of the fireworks… and two little reflections of me.

MC: Let's leave the stuff next year… to next year.

Charlie: Don't worry, you can have it every year.

The fireworks outside the window continued. Looking at the magnificent splendour outside, I suddenly remembered that I didn't exactly wish him a "happy birthday" yet.

MC: Charlie.

Charlie: Hm?

MC: Happy birthday.

Charlie: Thank you.

This might actually be the first time that he has ever seriously thanked me for anything before.

My heart squeezed, immediately starting to race soon after. There was no longer any way to hide it.

MC: And there's something else I want to tell you…

MC: Actually, I wouldn't have known that it was your birthday today if you didn't mistakenly think that I was making "longevity noodles".

MC: I only agreed to go on a trip with you because I didn't want to owe you any favours.

MC: And… I only decided to come here to this rural countryside to spite you because I knew that you'd be uncomfortable with it.

MC: And I didn't prepare anything in advance as your birthday gift either...

I paused, not knowing how to continue. However, it was Charlie who carried on with the conversation, much to my surprise.

Charlie: So?

MC: So… Aren't you angry?

MC: I clearly lied to you, in a way.

Charlie: My fiancée has been pondering hard and busying about like a busy bee today to celebrate my birthday.

Charlie: I don't think there's anything to be mad about.

I was stunned. For a moment, I didn't quite know how to reply to him. All I registered was the soft thud of my heart as it skipped a beat.

MC: ...I really don't understand you sometimes.

Charlie: Then, I suppose you'll have to put in more effort to understand me. After all, I can already understand you like the back of my hand.

Charlie: You can just tell me if you need help. I'll get someone to collate my information and send it to you in a file.

MC: No need!

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

I softly snorted, turning around to continue admiring the fireworks outside the window.

Even though I knew clearer than anyone else, deep down in my heart, that fireworks were nought but merely a fleeting moment of brilliance…

I still can't help but hope…

To hope that everything would be etched into stone, preserved forever and evermore.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

✥ Choose another Ending:

END 1 | Choice: Do Nothing [都不做]  

END 2 + 3 | Choice: Approach [亲近] ⊹Touch⊹

END 4 | Choice: Listen [倾听] ❖ASMR

END 5 + 6 | Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ✩Light & Night★

❖☆————— ⊹ For Night, For Paradox⊹ —————★❖

Previous Part: Prologue

[erekiosuncreativeideas]

Being Human - Chapter 02

<= Chapter 01

Summary : Snatcher is not having a good time. Also available on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/24826561/chapters/60233137

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Hey hey heeeey, new chapter ! Hope you'll like it !

Also, I never expected so many good reactions, on the first chapter ! Thank you so much everyone, it means a lot to me ! I really hope you'll enjoy this fanfic !

Thank you again for all your likes and reblogs !! I'm so happy if you like this fanfic !

Don’t forget to check out the audio files for this chapter ! - Bow Kid’s Apologies - Hat Kid’s Apologies

The “Oh The Humanity” AU belongs to @doodledrawsthings​ !

Happy reading !

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Chapter 2 - “How can any of this be okay? Are you blind?”

Snatcher didn’t really know how long he had been crying. Maybe it was mere minutes, maybe it was hours… The shade wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure of anything anymore. The world had just collapsed beneath him, taking him down to a pit of pure despair. He couldn’t help but hope this was just an immense joke, that the kids were just playing with him, but the more time passed… The more unlikely it became.

It was just -oh- so very real. No matter how much he wished to go back to his spectral form, it was just not going to happen.

The ghost’s face was red and his eyes were puffy from all of his cryings. They stung and the feeling of his cold tears on his cheeks was unpleasant. His nose was stuffed and he was forced to breathe through his mouth when he wasn’t even able to swallow his own saliva yet. The overstimulation was killing him: even the littlest thing felt extremely intense for him, making him unable to focus. He could barely hear his own thoughts, buried under all of those terrible and awful sensations. This was just a pure nightmare.

He could feel the kids’ hands rubbing his back gently and carefully as he kept sobbing, unable to stop. Breathing was difficult and he couldn’t hold back some coughs as tears left his eyes. He probably looked so stupid, so pitiful, so… Pathetic. The same reasons he hated his past self which, ironically, had never been so true before, now that he was back in his old body. Why did it have to happen to him, of all people?

The spirit sniffed loudly and, after a while, he didn’t have any more tears to cry. His eyes just stung and he felt a lump in his throat. He slowly lifted his head again, meeting the children’s eyes once more. They were still watching him with worry, with pity.

Snatcher hated those expressions.

-“It’s going to be okay,” said the bow-wearing kid, tilting her head on the side as she tried to reassure him. The ghost, however, was very much not reassured and let a scoff leave his lips. He opened his own mouth to answer, still with difficulty. Moving a tongue he didn’t have earlier the same day was particularly hard.

-“Are you joking, kiddo?” he retorted, with a mix of sarcasm and bitterness in his voice: “How can any of this be okay? Are you blind?”

The older kid punched him lightly in his left shoulder, making him wince at the wave of unwanted sensations hitting him hard:

-“Hey, don’t talk to her like that!” she reprimanded him with a frown: “She’s trying to be helpful!”

In hindsight, the younger child was trying to be helpful, yes. At his remark, the latter had knitted her brow, probably not knowing what to do or what to say after the way he had replied to her. Her older best friend, however, was not happy with that. And, if Snatcher had been in a better state of mind, maybe he would have understood his lack of tact.

Yet, the ghost was not feeling well at all. Nothing mattered to him anymore, not if he had to stay like this.

-“Helpful?” he repeated, furious: “Unless you can make me a ghost again, I’m sorry, but you are not being helpful,” he spat, glaring at the hatted child.

The two kids stared at him, astonished by his attitude. In a way, he had always been mean and hurtful, yet… There was something else, something new, that was much more malicious and cruel in his words. It was not his usual sarcasm, his normal bitterness, no, on the contrary.

His sentences were full of hatred, a point that the kids definitely didn’t miss.

The hatted brat’s face contorted in anger, surely not believing how spiteful he was being to them after the way they tried to comfort him:

-“Are you serious?” she argued, absolutely mad: “You threw the Time Piece! You’re the reason you’re a pecking human again!” she fumed, gesturing to him as she kept going: “You’ve been crying for half an hour and now you’re being like this? Seriously?”

The spirit squinted, not liking her tone at all. She dared raise her voice at him, the powerful soul-stealing ghost? Well, in a way, he wasn’t that powerful anymore, but still. He had killed many people for much less.

-“I don’t want your pity, kid,” he warned, trying to mimic his old threatening voice, though it wasn’t as successful as he hoped: “And I certainly don’t need someone to comfort me.”

Silence fell between the trio. He and the hatted child were looking daggers at each other, waiting for one to glance away or to blink. The younger brat was watching them, not knowing what to do. Eventually, her best friend looked away and crossed her arms:

-“You know what?” she challenged: “Fine. Since you’re doing so well on your own, well, we’ll leave you be!” she declared, very irritated, before turning to the bow-wearing child: “Come on, Bow, let’s go.”

The latter seemed hesitant and glanced between him and her friend, clear remorse showing on her face. But her friend was much too angry to care and insisted: “You heard him very well, he doesn’t need us.”

She then took the younger’s hand, pulling her away from the spirit, and added, darkly: “So let’s go.”

The bow-wearing kid gave him one last look before turning around, following her best friend silently. The ghost watched them go away, clenching his teeth as he was trying his best to straighten up. He heard several of his joints crack from the movement and he grimaced as he did everything he could to ignore how much it disgusted him. God, human bodies were so gross.

Soon, the little girls disappeared from his sight and he was alone again. The shade stared into space as he sighed, exasperated: he didn’t need them. They weren’t going to help him anyway, he might as well try to find a solution to his problem by himself! Yeah, after all, that’s what he had done for all those years, fighting Vanessa all on his own! How hard would it be to occupy a human body for a while? He had to fix this whole situation, the contrary wasn’t an option. No matter how much time it would take him, he was determined to try anything if it meant he would be back to his old self. Well, he didn’t have much of a choice anyway. After all, if he didn’t…

Subcon would freeze again with Vanessa’s magic spreading ice everywhere. Snatcher and his powers were the only reason the forest and the village were safe from her. He had no idea how many days or months he had left until the situation went from bad to catastrophic… It probably depended on Vanessa’s mood and whether she learnt about what had just happened to him or not.

Oh, God, if she ever learnt about this…

The ghost forced this thought out of his mind and shook his head. He regretted the gesture immediately, as it made him nauseous almost instantly. He had the impression someone had just hit him violently on the head with a bat and he couldn’t help but bring his hands to his temples. His fingers massaged the skin, pressing against it as he shut his eyes hard. He shouldn’t have cried earlier, it made the pain so much worse.

Little by little, the shade pulled himself together and attempted to sit up once more. The movement was hard and awkward, since it meant he had to use a lot of muscles and articulations at the same time. Snatcher had possessed many people in the past and had shapeshifted into humanoid forms a lot as well… But controlling an actual body, a living one, one that used to be his own? This was entirely new or, well, something he hadn’t done for centuries. When he tried to move his legs, he realized with horror that they weren’t moving the way he wanted them to. It was just so hard, so confusing, so… Imprecise. His legs were heavy, they were long, and he just knew he wouldn’t be able to stand up. Balance was something very precise and extremely easy to disturb. Snatcher would just be like a baby trying to walk by himself. He groaned at the thought, feeling even more pathetic. Just like he used to be when he was alive… How ironic.

The shade put his hands on the ground and tried to push himself up, clenching his jaw hard as he used all his strength. The movement made him whine in pain and displeasure as he felt the clothes rubbing against his skin, much more than before. He quickly lost his balance and fell back on the grass, feeling even weaker than he already was. He was so miserable.

Rage started to build up inside him again and, with more determination, he attempted to stand up once more. He had to get up, he had to go back to his home: maybe there would be something in his books helping him to go back to normal… Yet, he couldn’t help but feel quite pessimistic at the idea: after all, his problem had been caused by a Time Piece and he had never heard of those before… So the probability of finding anything related to it was quite low. Still, this was his only chance, since the brats had claimed they couldn’t help him. The shade let out a bitter scoff: ha, they didn’t even try! Yeah, they were some time and space experts, so what? Those were just words!

The spirit tried to get up again, in vain. He fell on his side and a silent cry left his lips at the shock. It hadn’t been particularly painful, so to speak, but the intensity of all the sensations engulfing him at the same time hit him very hard. He missed not being able to feel anything… Especially when feeling things led him to fall down multiple times.

He remained motionless for a while, trying to find the strength to straighten up once more, ignoring how exhausted he was starting to become. This wasn’t working. Maybe he needed something to help him? A branch or anything else? Snatcher examined his surroundings, looking for something he could use. His eyes fell on a nearby tree, which was large enough for him to hold. Putting most of his pride aside, the shade looked around him to make sure no one would see him, and he started to crawl. As soon as his body began to slide on the ground, Snatcher shut his eyes, loathing how intense his sense of touch was. He could feel the skin of his stomach rubbing against his clothes, he could feel the pressure of his own body to the ground, the feeling of gravity pulling him down… This was pure torture. He dug his fingers into the dirt, trying to pull himself forward. Some dirt stuck itself under his nails and he let another cry out at the sensation. It was awful, so awful, he just wanted it to be over… Why couldn’t this be easier? Why did he have to feel such horrible things? Everything hurt, everything was just so intense, he hated all of this!

The ghost had to stop midway, unable to do it in one go. He took advantage of this little break to breathe, trying his best to calm his heartbeat down. He could sense its pounding in his chest, quick and loud in his ears. When he felt comfortable enough, he kept going, hoping this would soon be over.

When the spirit managed to get to the tree, he approached his hands from it and wrapped his arms around it. His face was stuck on the bark and the contact made him grimace. He tried to get away from it, but he knew he wouldn’t be as stable otherwise. With a lot of unwillingness, the shade forced himself to get closer again and he took a deep breath.

This was now or never.

Digging his nails into the bark, Snatcher pulled himself higher, having trouble moving his legs as he did so. No matter how much he was trying to use them as a way to push himself up, they just slipped under him. Soon, all he could do to stay somewhat stable was to cling on the tree, his nails hurting from how much he was putting pressure on them. For a few seconds, he remained perfectly immobile, not daring to move, stuck in a very embarrassing position. His bottom was turned up, while his upper body was stuck to the bark, his arms around the tree.

This couldn’t be happening. This just couldn’t be happening.

Tentatively, the shade attempted to move his feet again, in order to straighten himself. For a brief moment, he thought it was working, because he did manage to push himself higher against the tree. However, before he was able to do anything more, his feet slipped under him, and he fell down. His chin hit one of the roots of the tree, making him scream from the sudden pain. Snatcher instantly brought his hands to his bruised skin and hold back another scream, only letting out a high and long hum of pain. New tears appeared in the corner of his eyes and, feeling his resolve crumple little by little, he curled up just like before.

He was so pathetic, so miserable… Maybe even more than how he used to be back when he was alive. Somehow, the thought hurt him even more than the previous bump on his chin, much more. Slowly, he started to sob, curling up more and more as his cries became louder. Why was this happening to him? Why? Why, why, why? This wasn’t fair! He didn’t deserve any of this!

Everything was just so painful. Moving, breathing, crying… Everything was. He had trouble to breathe, having his nose clogging up again because of his second meltdown. His body began to shake. It was unnoticeable at first, but it quickly evolved in something much more worrying. Who cared? Maybe if he just died again, he would go back at his previous ghostly form!

A sad and bitter smile appeared on his lips: yes, maybe it was the solution. To be back as a ghost, one had to die… Why wouldn’t this time be any different? Maybe if he just let himself to die, everything would go back to normal. At this point, he had no other options… The kids couldn’t help him, he wasn’t able to move by himself, and no one was nearby to help him… His pride absolutely loathed the idea of asking for help, especially with the way he probably looked at the moment, but… This was a very peculiar situation, one that needed exceptions.

It still made him sick just to imagine it.

His sobs increased, echoing all around him in a heavy silence. He was alone, so alone. For a few minutes, he really thought that his plan would work as intended: he would wait for death and come back as a ghost, just like he had planned… But then, he heard quick footsteps approaching him, as if someone was running in his direction. He barely had time to lift his head that a panicked and crying voice rang in his ears, making him wince once more:

-“Sorry, we’re so sorry!” The shade recognized the voice of the bow-wearing kid and, soon enough he felt her hands touching him, as if she was holding him. He jumped at the contact, definitely not used to it. Not long after that, he felt another set of arms hugging him close and tight:

-“Are you okay?” it was the hatted brat. She wasn’t exactly crying but, when Snatcher moved a bit to look at her, guilt was all over her face. She was very close to join her best friend’s cries, her voice trembling when she spoke again: “I’m sorry, I was mad! Bow told me to go back, but I didn’t want to listen! I’m so sorry!”

Snatcher’s surprise and astonishment stopped his sobs, and his eyes glanced between the two kids. He was about to try and push them away, wanting to keep some dignity, but then another voice made him freeze completely.

-“Hey, kids? What are you doing?” it asked, with a confused tone: “Who’s that guy?”

It was a subconite, a few feet away from them. The minion hadn’t caught a good sight of Snatcher’s face yet and thus hadn’t recognized him. The ghost felt the kids freeze just like him, staring at the little being as it was walking closer and closer.

This was going to be so awful.

Snatcher was not ready. He was not ready for this at all. As he heard the subconite getting closer and closer, he pushed his head on the side, shutting his eyes. How was he going to explain any of this? How would his minions react at how pathetic he was right now? He didn’t want to be laughed at, he didn’t want to be pitied at… He wanted to be feared. And, as of now, the ghost would certainly not intimidate anyone, especially with how miserable he was being.

He heard the footsteps stopping next to him and the minion’s voice forced him to come back to reality and to deal with this whole situation.

-“… Boss?” they asked, clear confusion and astonishment audible in their intonation. The ghost felt the kids letting go of him and, if the context was better, he would have felt grateful for that. But at the moment, he was just very nervous and very anxious at the imminent conversation with his minion. Snatcher didn’t want to do that right now, he was already suffering so much because of this stupid body… And now he had to deal with this too?

He didn’t even want to imagine what it would be like, showing himself like this to Moonjumper… He instantly tried to push that thought away, really not wanting to deal with that right now. It was enough at it was currently.

Eventually, the spirit turned his head towards his minion, slowly, very slowly. His body was shaking again, but whether it was out of fear or out of pain, he couldn’t tell. Everything was just so mixed up and his mind wasn’t able to tell what was what anymore. His eyes met the “face” of the little being. The latter made a few steps backwards as his suspicions had been confirmed by seeing the spirit’s face, red and full of tears.

-“It’s… It’s really you,” they murmured, not believing what they were seeing: “What happened?”

Their tone and gestures were full of concern and they got closer again. Any person new to Subcon and its dark atmosphere would have trouble deciphering the emotions showed by the minions, since they had no face to show them directly, but… For Snatcher, it was all very clear. He knew much more about them than what he liked to show. In that particular case, the way the little being was acting, the way they moved, the way they spoke, the way they were fidgeting… Those were all perfectly clear signs for the ghost.

Snatcher frowned, quickly drying his tears on his sleeves. Not that he had much dignity left, anyway.

-“Please don’t tell anyone for now,” he asked, looking at them gravely. He wasn’t presentable and if the other minions saw him like this… They would most likely panic, considering he was their only way of keeping Subcon safe and warm.

The subconite remained motionless, visibly hesitant and perplexed, and a brief silence settled between them. The hatted child was the one to break it, in order to explain what had happened to the clueless servant:

-“He… He broke a Time Piece,” she added, glancing between Snatcher and his minions. Her best friend started to pat his back again, making him wince and move away from the touch. She still put her hand back on him, trying to comfort him. The subconite didn’t miss his refusal for contact and approached the ghost, clearly more worried than before:

-“Are you okay, Boss? Are you hurt?” they questioned, examining the shade’s body, looking for any possible injuries. Well, his chin was bruised, just like his body probably was because of his earlier falls… But pain was just one of the many, many unwanted sensations Snatcher was currently feeling.

-“Of course I am!” he assured, still determined not to look more miserable than he already was. He straightened up, trying very hard not to grimace for the tenth time as he did so. It would be lying to say that he was fine. He definitely was not. Thus, he added, with a low voice: “Well, it’s just… Kind of oversensitive.”

The subconite fell silent for a few seconds, watching the kids still trying to rub his shoulders in order to comfort him. A “look” of realization appeared on their inexistent features and they ran to the kids, snapping their hands away sharply.

-“Stop that!” they scolded, clearly angry, then gestured to the ghost, who was surprised by the sudden movement next to him: “He just said he didn’t like to be touched!”

The kids stepped away, glancing at each other then to the minion, confused.

-“He… He didn’t-” started the bow-wearing kid, not understanding what it was all about. Her older friend looked just the same, not getting what the subconite was trying to say to them. The latter seemed to grow even more irritated at their oblivious attitude. They tilted their head on the side, as if they were rolling their eyes.

-“Can’t you see?!” they rose the tone of their voice, absolutely livid: “The Boss has been dead for years! Dead people can’t feel anything at all! How would you feel if you had to experience sensing things all of a sudden?!”

The kids’ expression crumpled as they seemed to understand what the other was trying to explain. Soon, new tears appeared in their eyes and they started to sob, silently at first, but louder and louder as seconds passed. Snatcher’s eyes widened at the sight and he froze, not knowing what to do or what to say. The sound of their cries rang in the spirit’s head, as if someone was hitting his brain with a bat, repeatedly. He closed his eyes and extended a trembling hand in their direction, ready to do anything so it would just stop:

-“It’s fine, it’s fine! Stop crying, for the love of God!” he pleaded, clenching his teeth and holding his head with his free hand. But apparently, it was the wrong thing to do, as the little girls began to cry louder, apologizing:

-“We’re sorry, Snatcher!” stuttered the hatted brat, sniffing loudly. Her younger friend was sobbing even louder, covering her face with her hands. The ghost could hear the latter’s voice through her fingers, with an intonation full of guilt:

-“I’m sorry for touching you!” she sputtered, her shoulders moving up and down as she continued crying: “I didn’t think it would hurt you!”

The shade couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore, as the voice of the little girls were killing him. He felt like he was about to faint if it continued any longer. However, he heard the minion shushing them and a wave of relief engulfed him.

-“Shhh, shhh!” they reprimanded the kids, putting his finger in front of his cloak, as if he had a mouth: “You’re making it worse!”

This seemed to be enough to calm the children down and the spirit heard them trying to hold back their sobs. Snatcher’s head felt much better, not hearing the high-pitched voice of the two brats crying so loudly. Little by little, the shade reopened his eyes and gave a weak nod to his minion, thanking him for his intervention. The little being gave him a thumb up with his mitten-like hand:

-“Anytime, Boss.”

The shade took a deep breath and looked at their surroundings. No one had seemed to notice them yet, which was a good thing. It would only bring even more trouble… Next to the subconite, the little girls stood silently, drying up their tears on their sleeves. Just like him, their faces were red and puffy, their nose clogged up as well. At least, they were being calm, now… It was still something.

-“Okay… Okay,” he said to himself, trying to pull himself together. Then, he turned to the trio in front of him: “I might find a cure to this if I manage to go to my tree,” he explained, voice full of determination.

The bow-wearing kid frowned and interjected with visible worry on her face:

-“But are you…” she was hesitant to continue and gestured to his legs, wincing. The hatted brat finished her sentence for her, less afraid of hurting his feelings, apparently:

-“Can you even walk?”

Snatcher couldn’t say he hadn’t expected that question. He knew very well that walking on his own would be completely impossible, considering how he wasn’t even able to move his legs correctly. Each time he tried to use them, they just moved differently than what he was trying to do. Standing up with those wouldn’t work.

He had quite a few proofs of that earlier.

He knitted his brow, absolutely loathing the very idea of pronouncing his next words:

-“Not on my own,” he admitted, fighting his pride as much as possible as he kept going, still very much decided: “But you’re going to help me to walk.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_- 

Welp, things are going to get quite complicated, hehehehe. Hope you've liked this chapter and that you'll enjoy the next ones as well !

Take care, everyone !

=> Chapter 03

[thefamily]

Chapter One: 1823 October 10th The πυγολαμπίδα - Re-Uploaded

(Word Count: 2,681)

Next

        Jack was running, he didn’t know where he was, when he got there or how long he’s been there but what he does know is that he was in a forest and the sun was beginning to set. He could hear their taunts about his brothers, about how they’ve never visited him, haven’t even written to him. He hasn’t heard anything from them since they got adopted. Even though they are five of his soulmates.

        ‘Do they even remember me?’ and then Anti… he tried to block it out, he really did but he just couldn’t take it anymore, the emptiness left behind like a festering wound caused their absence.

        His eyes begin to tear up, blurring his vision which leads to him tripping over something, probably a raised root, and land onto a path he’s never seen before. Before he could comprehend what just happened a horse that was blacker than night had slammed to a stop and threw itself up on its hind legs letting out a sound that was more of a wild dogs growl than a horses whinny.

        Just as he was about to scramble away from the giant horse, ‘seriously I’ve never seen a horse this big’ whose eyes he would swear until his dying day glowed red, he heard someone yell in a language that made the thing in his head growl.

        “Stella! Kio diable!” The cloaked person ‘girl?’ yelled as he heard them hit the ground with a thump and at the sound of her voice, a feeling of familiarity slams into him like a frying pan.

        ‘Someone rides this thing?’ Was the first thing he thought before he scrambled over to the fallen person to help them up.

        “I-I-I’m so s-sorry I-” He cuts himself off just as he grabbed onto their hands seeing what looks like a soft green lightning move across their skin and he had followed it up to th-Her face, and all at once the feeling of the words Oh, there you are wash over me as he feels a warm and calming yet chaotic presence mix with his own mind. His heart pounds in his chest as he looks her in the eye that isn’t covered by hair, it’s a beautiful blue, like the night sky whenever it was clear on a full moon. He was snapped out of his thoughts when she whispered something under her breath.

        “Q-Quam?”

        “H-Here,” He stutters out, grabbing her unnaturally warm hands and helping her stand, not noticing the suspicious look in her eyes.

        “Thank you.” she said nearly causing Jack to jump out of his skin as he was not expecting her to talk and in all honesty it was more of how soft and soothing her voice was. He snaps out of his thoughts realizing he was just staring and his cheeks heat up as he stutters out,

        “O-oh, uh y-your welcome.” He mentally curses himself for stuttering so much before realizing he was still holding her hands and quickly pulled them away trying to stutter out an apology waving his hands slightly before she bursts into giggles causing his heart skip a beat 

        ‘It’s so pretty.’ He’s quickly brought out of that thought when she speaks,

        “Cute.” She noted with a small smile in an accent that wasn’t from around here. Well if his face wasn’t red before it sure was now. 

        “What's your name?”

        “O-oh, um, my name is Jack.” He mentally applauds himself for only stuttering once though that doesn’t stop his heart from stuttering when she smiles.

        “Nice to meet ya Jack, I’m Liru.” She replied sticking her tongue between her teeth for a second and god did that look adorable.

        “Nice to meet you Liru.” He replies before she would think he was staring at her… again. She got this thoughtful look on her face before asking, “Would you like to walk with me and Stella?”

        He looks at her in confusion before he feels a tuft of hot hair roll over him and he quickly jumps, turning to the source and freezes before looking up seeing the large death black horse with ‘Black?’ eyes that he swears were red at first. Liru giggles from behind him and she steps up next to him putting a hand that looks comically small compared to it on it’s nose and gently petting it.

        “This is Stella, my horse.” She looks over at him with a smile before saying, “Go on, she won't bite.”

        He looks at the horse and swallows nervously before putting a shaky hand on it’s nose as he feels it stare into his very soul. He watches nervously as she just stares at him before gently nudging her nose into his hand. He instantly relaxes and lets out a breath of air he hadn’t realized he was holding and he could hear Liru giggle from beside him as he pets Stella’s nose.

        “So would you like to walk with us?” He looks over and without thinking says yes. She smiles, “Good.”

        She walks back to where she fell and picks up a…. ‘Scythe?’ It was bigger than she was with a golden pole and silver blade with a ruby and sapphire colored eye on the blade and on top on the poll was a bunch of charms connected to thin silver ropes or chains to poll. He was wondering how he didn’t notice it before hand as she attached it Stella’s side removing a leather sack from the same side before turning to him, pulling him from his thoughts as she said, 

        “Alright let's go.” as she began to walk down the dirt path, he walked quickly to keep up with her and walk beside her.

        “So, where are you from?” He asks so they don’t have to walk in silence. She shrugs a bit before replying, “Nowhere really. What about you?”

        “A village not far from here, I think.” He mutters the last part since he wasn’t sure for how long he ran. He doesn't notice her confused look and tilted head as he hopes she doesn’t ask questions. They continue to walk in silence before coming to a field that's by a lake that he knows for a fact he’s never seen before. She walks over to the side of the lake and he follows quickly as she walks over to what looks like a bridge made of stones and tree roots and quickly makes her way across it to a little island surrounded by Rose bushes and lush trees that shouldn’t be this green this time of year. She finally stops walking as they get to a grass clearing, setting down the bag and turning to him.

        “I hope you're hungry. There’s a lot of food.” Just as she said that his stomach growled loudly causing him to blush and her to laugh. Jack quickly walks over and sits in front of her, red faced. She begins to pull out food and he can feel his mouth water at the smell of the surprisingly still warm soup and cool sandwiches.

        “I knew there was a reason I felt like I needed to make more than normal.” As she handed me a jar of warm potato ‘and ham!’ soup, a ham and cheese sandwich along with a spoon. He quickly opens the jar of soup and dug in eating eagerly and freezes when he hears her laugh and say,

        “Slow down Πυγολαμπίς you’re eating like you haven’t eaten in days.” She teases, making him freeze, his eyes flickering to her face and his face turns red from shame rather than embarrassment. He sits a little straighter looking down and out of the corner of his eyes he can see her teasing grin turn into a frown.

        “Jack,” She says in a soft voice like one would use for a frightened animal. “When's the last time you ate?” she prodded gently and he can feel himself begin to panic, worried that she might be mad at him. 

        “Jack.” She prodded again but this time a little sterner.

        “I-It doesn’t m-matter. B-besides I'm-” He gets cut off. 

        “Jack!” she snaps causing him to flinch and her voice goes back to being soft but stern.

        “How long as it been Jack.” He forces himself to relax realizing she isn’t angry at him but he's still on edge. 

        “T-two day’s.” He answers quietly and the sound of metal beginning to bend fills the air and causes him to panic again, 

        “B-But s-since today is my b-birthday I-I might-” He’s cut off again but this time by the sound of silver snapping and the top half of her spoon flying off somewhere.

        He flinches as she sets down the spoon and jar before getting up and walking to him quickly. He drops the spoon and jar and before he can scramble away she pulls him into the warmest hug he’s ever had.

        He sits there in shock before beginning to melt into it and cry and cry and cry before he finally manages to calm down, she pulls away and so did he albeit rather reluctantly and when he looks up at her there are little glowing bugs everywhere, illuminating the soft smile spreading across her face. He feels her hand brush away some hair from his forehead causing him to panic for a second realizing she uncovered the one on his forehead before seeing her smile grow a bit and says in a fond voice, “You too, huh.”

        He looks at her in confusion as she moves the hair covering her face out of the way revealing two more soul-marks ones of a red phoenix with green accents and blue eyes underneath her right eye covering her cheek the tail feathers going down the her lower jaw, going through a large scar, like the one covering his right lower arm, and then an identical copy of the one of my forehead on hers, a heart, a spade, a diamond and a club creating a diamond on her forehead, just like his. He’s shocked and he can’t help but stare before her giggle snaps him out of his thoughts as he watches her go and sit back in her spot.

        “Eat.” He doesn't bother arguing with her and he quickly eats the sandwich and soup while she eats hers with a new spoon. He lays back content, his eyes closed and as he opens them he’s greeted with the sight of glowing bugs flying in-front of his face. He looks at them in confusion, jumping a bit when Liru speaks up, “They’re Lightning bugs.”

        “Huh?”

        “Or fireflies.” He looks at her as she watches the ones flying around him fondly, “Whichever you choose to call them, they’re still beautiful, dead useful to when you don’t have a lit lantern, as long as you don’t scare them of course.”

        He looks back at the little bugs whispering “Fireflies huh.” as he continues to watch them dance in-front of the night sky. 

        ‘Wait… night sky?’ He suddenly realizes just how late it really is and he shoots up quickly exclaiming, 

        “I need to get home!” He quickly stands up and looks at her as she stands up obviously confused saying in a kind voice,

        “You know you can just come with me, you don’t have to go back there.”

        He shakes his head no vigorously, “Nononono, you don’t understand I need to go back.” 

        He looks at her with pleading eyes, barely noticing the sadness coming from her, before she frowns, sighing, her tone resigned. “Alright, come with me, Stella and I will take you home.” 

        Before he can thank her, she walks back to the bridge quickly crossing it with him close behind jogging to catch up as they get back to her horse. Once they get to Stella she goes and grabs her scythe before strapping it to her back as the horse bowed for her so she could get on putting the hood to her cloak up. He freezes looking at her realizing that she looks like the horseman, Death they called them, that the adults would talk about seeing in the forest late at night, the one that is responsible for so many disappearances if they wandered into their ‘her’ forest. But he can’t find it in him to be scared, she’s the first person in ten years who was nice to him, to worry about him…

        She looks over at him, her hood not covering her face like it should and she puts her hand out to help him on and when he sees the soft smile on her face, he can feel any worry disappear. He grabs her hand and she pulls him up so he’s sitting behind her.

        “Lets go Stella.” The horse gets up quickly and he grabs onto Liru, letting his mind drift into the calm chaos of her mind, barely noticing a small flash of surprise that races through her mind as Stella takes off in full gallop towards his village. For some reason he doesn’t even question how she knew where he lived, just wraps his arms around her waist tighter and he could feel one of her hands on his arms as she keeps facing forward which he was great-full for since he could feel his face heat up. 

        To make it stop he tries to focus on the noises around before realizing the only thing he could hear was the wind, there wasn’t any sound coming from Stella. Sure she was snorting every now and again but her hooves made no sound as they hit the ground over and over. Before he could begin to question, Stella began to slow before coming to a stop. As he sat up confused he realized they were already at his village.

        “We’re here.” She said, peaking at him from over her shoulder as Stella knelt down for him and as he was sliding off the black horse he hears Liru say to him leaving no room for argument, “I’ll meet you around here tomorrow.”

        He quickly turns to her in confusion and before he can say anything he feels her press a kiss to his cheek. His face turns redder than before and as she pulls away he can see her pink tinted cheeks in the moonlight. He stumbles back a bit as Stella stands up again and turns around, he looks up at Liru as she looks down at him before saying,

        “Happy Birthday Jack. Sleep well.” Before he can say anything in return the horse and her are gone like a light and he just turns and stumbles towards the orphanage, her missing presence already leaving him feeling empty again.

        Meanwhile, Liru is hanging onto Stella as they ride back home, absolutely ecstatic to have met one of her soulmates but also wondering how Jack could know how to use a mental connection. Wondering how someone so sweet could be her soulmate and forgetting about the little picnic area for the time being, her heart lighter but also heavier as she hears Stella’s voice enter my head.

        She thinks about how absolutely gorgeous his soul was but also how clouded by trauma it is. How his song was muffled like a human trying to speak underwater. Stella must have felt her distress because the next think Liru know’s she asks,

        “Shall I tell them to keep an eye on him when you aren’t around little one.”

        Liru frowns to herself thinking, not wanting to invade his privacy but she’s also worried for his safety. She comes to her decision as her home comes into view and keeps her legs low as Stella’s bat-like wings come out as she takes off into the air, her eyes glowing red as she becomes a bit decayed. 

        “Yes, but to not attack anyone until those humans,” She spits out like a bad taste, “lay a harming hand on him.”

        “Of course little one.”

        She thinks to herself looking at the moon before they land, ‘I’ll make them pay for hurting him.’

Translations: Stella! Kio diable! = Stella! What the hell! Quam = How

Tags:

@immabethehero

@antis-gauge

@therealtiger77

@nerdylampeclipseuniversity

@a-mad-tea-time

@i-maybe-exist

@flowers-zombie-rob

@myspeedymilkshake

@animallover4000

@nightanjel

@smolbean-pma

@trixie8264

@the-chemist

@thegamerbook

@protectjj

[mymelodyheart]

Forget Me Not Chapter 5 ~Cours de Français~

Why is Jamie staring at my mouth like that?  

He reminded Claire of a ravenous lion looking at his first meal in days, and herself as the sacrificial lamb waiting to be gobbled. She wondered if he could hear the snap and crackle in her chest and the pop of her exploding ovaries. Watching Jamie's head lowered closer to her face, his gaze still centred on her lips, Claire's heart gave a little kick. A maelstrom of mixed emotions battled its way to the surface, the echo of their childhood seemingly incongruous to what was transpiring. Summoning the memory of the sweet boy she once knew was in vain, and instead, reality had put in its place a man she barely recognised; rugged, masculine, and oh so seductive.

"I'll be damned if I allowed Frank to be yer first kiss," Jamie muttered, before grazing his tongue between her lips, forever, irrevocably blurring the lines of their relationship. 

Jesus H.Roosevelt Christ!   She refused to close her eyes, watching in fascination as he closed his. It was a mistake when her world spun upside down, and her equilibrium went off-kilter, making Jamie's face blur into two, before fusing back together.  Oh Lord ! She was quite sure his heavy breathing had left condensation in her contact lenses or perhaps it had slid to the back of her eyeballs, causing the hazy focus.

He paused for a heartbeat, waiting for her to pull away. And when she didn't, with one large hand at her waist and the other cradling the back of her head, he drew her to him, his tongue gently urging her mouth to part before brushing his across hers in an achingly slow, feather-like sweep. Jamie tasted her the way he ate when he took a bite of the first French dessert he ever made, Coeur à la Crème ; a leisurely, savouring mouthful followed by a rapturous groan.

Hot! Hot! Hot!  His work-roughened fingers were creating tiny sparks of fireworks on her skin as images began to form in her head. Visions of daffodils blooming in fast forward motion, choir boys at the village church singing Hallelujah  as the organ struck a high note and fire hydrants erupting aerated water in the air, were floating in her mind. This was better than the chick flicks she used to watch, where "boy kisses girl" scenes had made her sigh dreamily.

Oh, dear God, what the hell is happening!  First, Frank wanted to kiss her after their coffee date earlier, and now Jamie was enlightening her in the art of French kissing. 

Shut up, Beauchamp! You've always wanted this- two former popular blokes from your school want you... so what are you complaining about? 

That was back in school. And Jamie is my brother!

Where does that say he's your brother?

There's an unwritten rule...

Yeah, unwritten rule my arse! It's one that you made up. Just enjoy the kiss!

Claire wanted to act sophisticated, cool and dispassionate, unlike the bumbling, awkward geek she was often referred to when she was in school. Closing her eyes for the first time, she tried to relax in Jamie's arms, but it was proving to be a difficult feat when he was making all sorts of sounds at the back of his throat. She opened her mouth more, shyly kissing him back and to her surprise, Jamie's chest heaved, and his body trembled.  He must have liked that!  Feeling emboldened, Claire mimicked his movements, gliding her tongue over his, as her hands clutched at his shoulders and fingers dug into his muscles. Her audacity made Jame pull her harder against him, whooshing the breath out of her lungs. Her heart was pounding like mad as blood rushed through her ears, her legs turning into the consistency of Jamie's Sherry trifle when not fully set.

With Claire's response, Jamie's kiss became more demanding, as he slid his fingers through her hair, angling her head so he could run his tongue along her jawline. "Ye want me to stop, Sassenach?" he gritted his voice sounding like as though he'd been a month without a drink.

No don't stop!  Claire could only shake her head. Jamie walked her backward until her back met the wall, shifting her awareness to his taut, solid muscles and arousal. She nearly giggled as his hard, giant appendage pressed against her belly, reminding her of Jenny's wooden rolling pin.  Oh, sweet Lord! Stop thinking and keep up! Stop contemplating about his size, or all the practising it took to hone that perfect kiss or what the sounds behind his throat meant.

She was kissing back and shamelessly enjoying it, but how had she gotten here and why is Jamie kissing her? She hadn't expected to be kissed today, but here we are - first Frank making a move and now Jamie. Was it written on her forehead,  "wants to be kissed" ? So many questions but they were all being swallowed up by riots of sensations that was alien to her. Not that she was totally naive - definitely not! Not after being introduced to Carter, Geillis' vibrator and soft porn, once again thanks to Geillis' collection from her internet browser's bookmarks. 

Claire understood quite well the mechanics of kissing and what it can lead up to, but objectivity had no place in the present when her blood felt like bubbling sugar syrup. Maybe it had something to do with how Jamie looked at her, his eyes a peculiar hue of dark and intensity, and his jaws clenched and taut as a bowstring. How many girls had he looked at the way he was looking at her? Suddenly, she felt a pang of jealousy hit her with full blow in the abdomen and hated the thought of him looking at someone else like that, now that she had been on the receiving end.  For crying out loud, Beauchamp, get a grip!

"Claire are you up there?"  Bloody fucking hell, speaking of rolling pins, it's Jenny! When did she come home?

Their movements stilled, their lips parted as the spell cast between them broke. 

"Coming!" Claire called out without taking her eyes off Jamie. She was surprised to discover Jamie's breath was laboured and harsh as hers; moreover, she was able to find her voice after the intensity of their kiss.  Well, today was undoubtedly full of surprises. Whatever next?

"It's Frank! He says you dropped your phone in the parking lot!" Jenny shouted from the bottom of the stairs.

Oh, bummer... just what I needed!  "Thanks, Jenny, will be there in a sec," she replied, hoping she sounded steadier than she felt. Her nerve endings still tingled, and there was a throbbing pulsing between her thighs. Claire needed to put a name to what she was feeling, but it can wait...Frank was downstairs.

Not trusting herself to speak, she made a move towards the door, but Jamie stopped her, grabbing her elbow as he pulled her to him once more for a brief, yet lingering kiss. When he finally released her, he stroked her cheeks. "Remember this when you talk to Frank," he murmured, the corner of his eyes crinkling as he smiled.

Oh, sweet Lord!  Without saying a word, she staggered back, slamming her shoulders on the edge of the door frame before shuffling away.

..........

Frank was stood in the main doorway looking out, hands stuffed in the pocket of his jacket. He spun around as soon as he heard Claire approach.  How rude of Jenny not to let him in! 

"Hello, love, you dropped this as you got into the car," he said, waving her iPhone. "You reversed so quick, you probably didn't hear me call after you."

Claire knew well why she was trying to make a fast get-away from Frank earlier. He had wanted to kiss her, and she had retreated hastily in panic. Before she could reply, she heard Jamie coming down the stairs.  Oh shite, I'm in a pickle!   "Thanks for stopping by," was all she could say, trying to sound calm as she took her phone back from Frank.

"Are you alright? Your face looks a bit flush. I hope you're not coming down with something." Frank's one hand reached out to touch her forehead as a look of concern crossed his face. 

"No...I'm alright. No, actually, I have this blasted headache. Maybe I just need to lie down," Claire explained, one hand reaching out to touch her head for emphasis. She wasn't fibbing this time as she felt Jamie stand behind her, one arm resting on the door above her head.

"Hey, Jamie...I just stopped by to drop Claire's phone."

"How are ye, pal, ages since I've seen ye...we ought to go for a couple of pints and catch up one of these days before the hotel opens," Jamie greeted his friend, his voice sounding absurdly normal, if not a bit too cheerful as if the kiss never happened. Looking down at the top of Claire's head, he smiled. "Claire's headache must be from the rigorous French lessons I've been giving her."

Claire choked on the air she inhaled, her face reddening over again.

"French lessons?" Frank's brow furrowed watching Claire fail miserably in suppressing a cough. He reached out to thump her on the back, but Jaime's hand got there first, massaging the area between her shoulder blades. "Well, Jamie's the man for anything French. He worked there for many years...blimey Claire, get yourself some hot toddy and go to bed..."

"No, really...I'm alright," she gasped, blinking away her watery eyes.  Bloody hell Jamie!  "But I think I will lie down before going out tonight..." Claire couldn't stand there any longer and have a normal conversation with Jamie and Frank. She knew her face was like an open book, and any second now, she will reveal what just ensued upstairs. What she needed was a few moments to herself to gather her thoughts.

"French lessons?" Jenny chimed in as she came out of the dining room and walked towards them with a box of empty bottles to be recycled. She placed them on the floor by the entrance, before straightening up. "Jamie, lad...I could do with some French lessons...maybe I'd join Claire during one of yer sessions."

This time it was Jamie's turn to choke, and this time it was Claire's turn to slap him on the back.

Taking it as her cue to leave and head for the safety of her bedroom, Claire gave Frank a quick peck on the cheek. "Right I'm off for a nap. See you, Saturday!" She didn't wait for a reply and hurried up the stairs. Once in her room, she locked the door, replaying Jamie's kiss over and over in her head, her date on Saturday already totally forgotten.

..........

Jamie looked at his watch...still ample of time to chop more woods before dinner in the Italian restaurant. He flipped off the split wood he was chopping on a tree stump and placed a new block. There were enough firewoods for the coming winter, but he needed to exorcise all the pent up energy that had accumulated after kissing Claire. Using a heavy sharp tool while being so epically predisposed to having a hard-on, coupled with the fast diminishing daylight, is quite a dangerous thing, and may result in an injury. 

That possibility should have been enough to ease the pressure in his cock, but after that kiss, he knew there was no relief. Every time he allowed his mind to wander, it always returned to Claire. Sure, he was in love with her and always had been, but this is now a totally different ballgame. He was no longer a boy, and it was no longer enough just to hold her hand and be content to have her by his side. He wanted more, but there was Frank too. He surmised Claire was a virgin after that little detail of not having been kissed  slipped out. The thought of Frank taking her innocence made his stomach churn. They might be good friends, but he'd been an utter idiot back in their school days, and Claire could never fault him.

Years of self-imposed restraint, it all came to a tipping point when he walked in on Geillis and Claire about to kiss. Two women kissing each other should have been a sensual experience to watch. Instead, it made him feel as though his skin was too tight like he was on the verge of combusting. The idea of anyone touching Claire, man or woman, especially Frank, didn't sit well with him. He didn't want anyone else to lay a finger on her. Except for him.

On the other hand, the idea seemed so preposterous as she considered him as her brother.   Surely not, after that kiss?  Back in their school days, no one even gave her a second look nor noticed her more exceptional qualities. It had been him who appreciated her adorable and funny side. It had been him who was there when she needed someone most. Generous to a fault, and despite disappointments in her school life, Claire always had a smile for everyone. Except, the kids in school chose to ignore her. It was a good thing there was Willie and him watching over; otherwise, she would have been bullied out of Scotland. Now that she was back for good, everyone was noticing.  Oh hell yes, they are noticing alright...damn them all!  He knew because he overheard people talking about her at the construction site in their hotel. She was no longer the awkward orphaned child. They mentioned her now by her name...instead of referring to her as the Fraser foster kid. Now she was the girl next door who had decided to fulfil every man's naughty fantasy, and all Claire ever did to achieve that effect was to grow up nicely. Not even Frank was immune to her charms who tend to gravitate more towards blonde women, and now he had his eyes on her too.  Damn ye, Frank!

And there was the kiss. Jamie had kissed girls before, and he knew there was nothing sisterly the way Claire had responded to him. She was hesitant initially, quite reasonably as he had taken her by surprise. In fact, he had taken himself by surprise. It was never his intention to kiss, but damn, the sight of her lips parted, and eyes closed waiting for Geillis, did it for him. When Claire responded to his kisses, there was this urgency crowding him. To take as much as he could and memorised her taste. Never before had anyone kissed like her, honest and unrestrained and with so much trust. No way was he allowing Frank to get a taste of that, not if he could help it!

Jamie knew if he was to pursue the idea of being with Claire, he needed to talk to her first and then his family after. He'd watched her for far too long looked at another boy with lovestruck eyes. Although Jamie was lusting after her, all he could think of right now was how much he wanted her heart more than anything. Jamie needed to know if it's still Frank she wanted after all these years. Until he knows, he needed to keep his hands away from her or someone could get badly hurt.

[spam-monster]

Helsaween day 7: Westergaard Family

Reposting the fic I wrote for Helsaweek in 2017 for “How It Should Have Ended” because it features my headcanons for Hans’ nieces and nephews - his 12 older brothers are probably mostly all married, so it makes sense he’d have a bunch of them. Also there’s not much Helsa technically...yet...

---

He thinks about what he could have done differently. Of course he does. Isn’t that what villains always do?

If he had let the queen be shot back in her ice palace, if he had not revealed his treachery to the princess so soon and let her die thinking that it was her fault true love’s kiss hadn’t saved her, if he had killed the queen as soon as she had fallen out there on the lake instead of sparing her a moment of sympathy for her perceived loss.

Those are the ones he tries to think about. The ones a monster like himself should think about. But there are other thoughts, ones that come to him unbidden when all is quiet and dark and still.

If he had been honest. If he had gone with Anna from the beginning instead of staying behind and feeding his ego. If he had confessed his deception and tried to help her find another way to break her curse instead of shoving it in her face and laughing as he slammed the door behind him.

If he had not pretended to love Anna at all, and had tried to win over Elsa instead, like he had intended. She would not have been fooled so easily. But maybe if he had been honest with her instead. Maybe if he had taken the time to befriend them. Maybe they would have let him come back, after that day. Maybe if he could have spent time away from his cruel brothers, with people who were kind and loving and good, maybe he could have learned such things himself. Maybe…maybe he could have found true love.

Instead he had let himself become the monster of their story, vanquished and cast away, never to be spared a though again.

But there is no use in dwelling on such things, he thinks.

He thinks.

Because it is hard not to dwell on these things when your nieces and nephews insist on him telling the story over and over and over again.  

***

He spends more time with them now.

There is a small fountain in the village, near the castle. The children of the local village play there with the children of the royal staff. His nieces and nephews didn’t use to play there, with the lower-class children, but one day he had gotten tired of having to repeat the story to them after he had already told it to the village children that day, and from then on he declared he would only tell it once, to whomever was gathered at the fountain when he was finished with his duties for the day. So all the children play there together now while they wait for him.

His brothers are rather annoyed at him for encouraging this. He can’t bring himself to care. Maybe if he had contact with normal loving families earlier in his life, he would have been quicker to realize what his family had lacked.

Hilda is the eldest, the first-born of his oldest brother, strong-willed and fierce. Fredrick is the first born of his second eldest brother, clever and charming. Christian is the son of Lars, his third eldest brother, and he is as stuffy and studious as his father, and his little sister Margrete is a hopeless romantic. And there is Erik and Harald, Magnus and Frida, Charlotta and Valdimarr and Vivi and Johan…

He had memorized their names out of convenience before. Lately, it had been out of sympathy. Twelve married princes with several children each made it hard for the staff to keep track and easy for the children to get lost in the crowd, and he knew all too well what that had felt like.

They made fun of him, of course, as they forced him to tell of his defeat over and over again. But they also listened to him, now that they knew he was willing to tell them stories if they behaved. It was kind of…nice.

So he comes to the fountain, and waits for them to settle down, and he tells them stories. He throws other fairy tales in sometimes, when they agree, for telling the same story all the time would be dull. But the story of Anna and Elsa is still their favorite, and he has agreed to tell it again today.

***

The beginning is easy.

He does not know much about what happened in Arendelle before he arrived, but between the history books, rumors from foreign travelers, and what he had heard from Anna, he manages to put it together. He then tells them of his arrival, of meeting Anna, of the coronation and the party and his clever wooing of the princess. He re-enacts the dances and the songs with great enthusiasm, even letting the children get up and participate themselves (Fredrick and Margrete often steal the show at this point, unless another child has managed to bargain with them for a chance to play himself or Anna).

After the dancing has settled down, he tells them of the argument. Of Elsa losing control and fleeing across the lake while Arendelle froze behind her. Of how Anna decided to go after her alone, while Hans stayed behind and took care of Arendelle.

“You should have gone with her!” one of the girls pipes up, as they always do.

“You’re just saying that because you’re mad I don’t know what happened to her after that.” He replies.

Because they are annoyed, of course. They don’t care about how Hans helped protect Arendelle’s citizens by organizing food and shelter for them when they were cold and afraid. They want to hear about how Princess Anna braved climbing the mountains to find her sister, and Hans doesn’t know that part of the story.

He’s heard there was an ice harvester involved. And snow monsters. And somehow Elsa ended up freezing Anna’s heart. That’s about it.

So he skips to the part where he traveled up the mountain himself to confront the queen. He emphasizes how he saved her from the Duke’s henchmen and brought her back unconscious but unharmed.

(He knows he does it to try to compensate for what he did later. He doesn’t think they’re fooled.)

He returned to Arendelle’s castle. And so did Anna.

(He hates telling this part.)

(He should be smug about how easily he tricked her. He was, at the time. It’s a lot harder to feel good about yourself for fooling someone into believing you loved them only to throw it back in their face later when there aren’t dozens of small, disapproving eyes watching you.)

So he glosses over it. Just tells them that he hurt her, admits that she probably didn’t deserve it.

(Sometimes he even tries to explain to them that it wasn’t her he was mocking, it was himself for being as naive as she was once. They just glare at him. They don’t understand yet, and that’s a good thing.)

He never tells them exactly what he said to her, although he remembers every word.

(He was wrong, anyway.)

And then, he tells them how he chased after Elsa.

He tells them that he thought killing her was the only way to stop the endless winter and save Arendelle.

(He had thought that, at the time.)

(It’s easier to tell himself that than to admit that he had wanted it to be the only way to stop the winter.)

And then…

He usually lies.

They know he’s going to lie about how it ended. They expect it by now. And as an expert liar, he tries to make it as extravagant as possible.

Last week it had ended with him having been secretly hiding that he had been born with power over fire the whole time, and he and Elsa engaging in an epic magic battle. This week Elsa summoned a giant ice dragon that he had to defeat before she would give up.

(His lies often involve Elsa fighting back somehow. It’s hard to admit now that he was about to kill a defenseless woman in cold blood.)

So he lies, for as long as they allow him to, because he is a very entertaining liar. But eventually they grow bored of it, as they always do.

And he relents, and tells them the truth.

He tells them how, as he went to deliver the final blow, Anna had appeared out of nowhere. How she had protected her sister who had neglected her for all those years, who had frozen their kingdom; how she stood in front of him and blocked his sword as she froze even though the woman she was protecting had been the one to curse her heart to freeze in the first place.

And then, well…

“You really don’t remember anything?” They ask.    

“What part of ‘knocked unconscious’ do you not understand?” he retorts.

But even though he doesn’t remember Anna or the kingdom unfreezing, he can tell them now why it happened.

“An act of true love can thaw a frozen heart.” He tells them. “Even after everything Elsa had done, Anna still loved her enough to save her. Her love for her sister is what freed her heart, and then inspired Elsa to find a way to undo her magic and save their kingdom from the endless winter.”

(He knows that he shouldn’t feel happy at this part. He certainly wasn’t happy when he had woken up, back then. But he sees the light in the children’s eyes when he tells them this part, when he tells them that true love is real and it is out there, when he sees siblings and cousins quietly holding hands or pulling each other closer despite his brothers encouraging them to fight and argue among each other as they once had done.

And if he can give them the reassurance he had never gotten as a child, if he can encourage them to hold on to that hope instead of letting it be buried under abuse and loneliness and neglect, then maybe there’s hope for his family yet.)

But they are still obnoxious children.

“You haven’t told us the best part.” Christian complains.

“Isn’t Anna and Elsa saving the kingdom the best part?” he says sweetly.

(It never works, but it’s a tradition by now.)

“Just do it,” Hilda demands.

He sighs. Then he stands up and reenacts Anna’s reaction to him after he had woken up.

As he mimes getting punched in the face and tosses himself dramatically in the fountain, the children laugh and cheer hearty. Little brats.

Well at least someone is satisfied with the end of his story.

 He doesn’t notice the fountain water feels icier than usual or that the children have become oddly silent until he hears her.

“Well that’s funny. I certainly don’t remember the dragon.”

---

(And then the kids end up thinking Anna and Elsa are the coolest ever and are really mad that Hans didn’t marry one of them and pester him about it.

“I could have had an aunt with magic ice powers! Uncle Haaaans!”

“So I know Miss Anna has a boyfriend now...but does Miss Elsa have anyone? Because my uncle’s still single...”

*flustered Hans noises* “FOR GOODNESS SAKES - COULD YOU NOT - I TRIED TO - SHE DOESN’T... I...apologize for them, your highness. They don’t understand the severity of the situation -”

“But you feel bad about what you did now, right uncle Hans?”

“...What...feelings? I don’t have feelings! Obviously! Someone like me have feelings that’s ridiculous who has feelings nowadays why-” 

*more flustered Hans noises*

*Elsa snickering in the background*) 

[winterromanov]

hold me like a soldier - bucky x reader fic

PART TWO - JAMES

Pairing: bucky barnes x female reader

Excerpt:   “Anyway. I saw you sitting on your own, and I always sit on my own too, and I kind of hate it because this whole grad school thing has reduced my friendship circle to exactly zero, not including my new pot plant Hero, who is great but not very talkative, you know? She doesn’t have many opinions on Tolstoy’s use of the interior monologue in Anna Karenina. And also my roommate spends a lot of time examining corpses in the interest of science, so she’s not the most fun at the moment.”

Warnings: none

Taglist: @lunatictardis @cals-cigarette (reply or send me an ask to be added!)

You were under absolutely no impression that grad school was going to be easy. Yet, that being said, you’d never counted on it being this damn difficult either. Sure, the classes were more intense and more frequent, the deadlines already piling up and ready to leave you shaking like a village in a cyclone—but the classes you could deal with. You’re more than used to homework and Shakespeare is nowhere near as undecipherable as it was in high school, romance and comedy and tragedy now a wholly fluent language in your brain. No, what is difficult is how fucking lonely you are.

You’ve done the whole moving-to-college thing before, but that was back when you were eighteen and naïve and everyone in your dorm was in the same rocking boat, dropped in the middle of a city and on the hunt for (illegal) cheap beer. Now you’re older, arguably wiser and surrounded by hardworking mature students with exceptional career goals. Your roommate, Elise, is almost finished med school and has absolutely no interest in hunting down New York’s best bookstores with you. And the people on your course…they either have friends already, from their undergrad majors, or rush off the minute class is over. It leaves you aimlessly wandering the city on your own or cowered in the library, desperate for any—literally any—company other than your family, fuzzy and lagging over Skype conversations.

School is important. Probably the most important thing in your life, and you’ve worked really fucking hard to get here. But your sanity is important too. Spending another evening with a bottle of budget wine and Friends re-runs on Netflix while pretending to make notes for your medieval lit seminar is definitely not doing it any favours.

So—this is it, you decide. This is the day you bite the bullet. You will no longer be the loneliest girl in New York City, even if that means forcibly pinning someone to the wall of the literature faculty and making them get coffee with you.

(Not that you’d ever have the nerve to do that. Of course. Where does anyone even acquire that sheer level of confidence?)

Your morning starts in a building a fifteen minute walk from your apartment and the October air is unseasonably warm, sweat pooling in the small of your back where your rucksack dips. You make it to Russian lit with a few minutes to spare so you take your usual preferred seat a few rows away from the back of the hall, trailing to the middle. The faces that start to fill up the seats around you are recognisable, at least, but you know very few by name. A girl who is also in your Early Victorian Proto-Feminism class (Tessa, you think) smiles tightly at you, but decides not to sit next to you, preferring a seat nearer the front. As you get your laptop out in preparation for the lecture starting, another face catches your eye.

You don’t know his name, but you always notice him, whether it’s in class or in the library or the canteen near the activity centre. He always dresses smartly but in greys and blacks and blues, like he deliberately tries to evade attention. His dark hair is short but hangs a little in his eye-line, revealing an attractive face with a sharp jawline and sharper eyes. A ghost of facial hair shadows his chin and although you’ve never seen him smile, you can imagine it being the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen. Like the stars back home, the ones unaffected by artificial light, impossibly bright. You don’t get to see the stars like that in New York City. It’s like the skyscrapers have stolen them to burn.

He’s never acknowledged you before. Your stares go unseen, thankfully, because there’s nothing more embarrassing than trying to explain why your eyes refuse to leave somebody’s frame. This time, however—this time, his eyes flicker straight over to you. It’s unmistakable. For a couple of seconds, his blue irises settle on your own, and you snap away quickly as your cheeks flush.

Good one. Real good.

At that moment the professor turns up and starts to load up today’s presentation. When you look back, you can see the back of the guy’s head, a few rows in front of you diagonally across the hall. He’s on the shorter row by the door, only three seats either side of him, but all of them are empty. He doesn’t seem to have many friends either. It doesn’t strike you that there may be a reason for that—maybe he’s just shy, or finds it difficult to find friends, just like you.

(He seems a little older than you, too. There’s just something about his expression, aloof and quiet, that makes you think he carries more years than his face cares to admit.)

The lecture is on Tolstoy and while the professor’s theories on Anna Karenina are interesting, you keep finding yourself glancing at the guy. This is the first time you’ve realised he doesn’t have a laptop, unlike the majority of students in the hall. He’s scribbling notes fervently in a small moleskin notebook, hand covering the side of his face as he writes.

By the time the lecture finishes and you’ve typed a grand total of eight words (the presentation title, go figure) the decision is basically out of your hands. You can’t let him sidle out of the hall like every single Russian lit class before this one, especially if he insists on causing this much distraction to your studies. As the professor finishes up you quickly pack away your laptop, squeezing between the rows in an attempt to reach him before you lose him amongst crowds of other students in the quad outside.

Your gaze follows his scruffy black backpack, standing on your tiptoes as you try to see over the tops of the heads that make their way down the stairs. He presses a white earphone into his ear and between arms, you can see he owns an iPhone, just not a laptop.

For half a second, you falter. Is this weird? Walking up to someone random—well, almost random—after class and just striking up a conversation? Maybe he’s alone because he wants to be, preferring to stalk about without company other than his own. Maybe the seats are empty because he’s completely unapproachable, others before you tried and failing to break into his circle. After all, he’s hardly unattractive. You can’t be the only one feeling subconsciously drawn to him.

Oh, fuck it. Whatever happened to biting the bullet? You remember something your sister mentioned to you in one of your two-hour long Skype marathons—be brave, loser.

You follow him until you’re out of the between-class rush, jogging a little to catch up with his long strides. Taking a deep breath to psych yourself up, you stumble to a halt beside him as he stops to read a message or something on his phone.

“Hey,” you say, a little breathless from your jog, pulling your rucksack straps up your shoulder.

He blinks, a little surprised, like he hadn’t seen you. His hands tighten into fists, then relax. He recognises you. “Hey?”

You smile, hoping to appear approachable, but wondering if it actually comes across as a grimace. “I’m, uh—sorry, we just had Russian lit together?”

His face is totally unreadable, but his body looks tense, putting you on edge. Maybe this was an extremely bad idea. “Yeah. I saw you.”

“Yeah, I saw you too. Well, obviously, otherwise I wouldn’t have…” you realise you’re rambling and to your surprise, there’s a hint of amusement on the guy’s face. It seems to flicker away quickly, like he’s telling himself off for it. “Anyway. I saw you sitting on your own, and I always sit on my own too, and I kind of hate it because this whole grad school thing has reduced my friendship circle to exactly zero, not including my new pot plant Hero, who is great but not very talkative, you know? She doesn’t have many opinions on Tolstoy’s use of the interior monologue in Anna Karenina. And also my roommate spends a lot of time examining corpses in the interest of science, so she’s not the most fun at the moment.”

He listens bemusedly, his hands sinking into the pockets of his trousers. You sigh. Verbal diarrhoea.

“The point being…we could, maybe, sit together?” you offer, hoping you haven’t immediately put him off if he was ever considering what you’re proposing. “Talk about Russian books sometimes so I don’t go mad?”

His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he looks down at his shoes; they’re scuffed up red Converse sneakers, the only part of him in technicolour. You’re almost certain he’s going to turn you down, the sting of rejection premeditated in your stomach, because hell you’ve been in this position before. He’s silent, considering this simple arrangement for longer than you’d anticipated, which is somehow a good and bad sign simultaneously.

“I…” he begins, and you’ve already finished the sentence. I would rather not, thank you. His jaw flexes, hardens. “I can sit with you.”

“Oh!” you say, brightly, by surprise. Nonchalance isn’t an option. Your grin is so damn obvious and you’re not even ashamed of it. “Oh, cool!”

“But—I don’t say this to be…I’ve just got a lot of stuff going on.” He smiles sadly, painfully. This expression is definitely readable. More readable than he wants it to be, you suspect. He dips his head. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Your hand closes round his arm and you can feel it tense, rock hard, and it’s like—like he realises you aren’t a threat, so he relaxes, his expression soft but eager to get away. You smile as a peace offering. “I just thought I’d ask your name. Then I’ll leave you alone. Promise.”

He mulls the question over in his head like he’s attempting a complex math problem, not a daily occurrence. His mouth curves before deciding on his answer. “James.”

“James,” you repeat, trying it out. You give him yours in exchange and he nods once, expression returning to neutral. He turns and makes his way to his next destination, perhaps another class, and before you know it he’s swallowed by college crowds and completely gone from view.

It’s been one of your more…charged interactions on campus, but nevertheless it leaves a warm feeling in your stomach. Sitting with someone is a start. It’s sure as hell better than sitting alone.

[talpup]

Light In the Darkness: 19

Please remember this fic is rated mature and has warnings of violence, abuse, sexual tension, eventual sexual behavior, and other possible triggers.

***If you prefer reading off AO3 here’s the link for that: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20887595/chapters/54852988

Chapter 19

Katana in hand, Yami listened to Iban fall asleep.  Somehow he had managed to doze off in the wee hours and catch a few more winks of sleep.

It was now mid-day and they were trekking up a mountain to the border village of Clade.  Yami was tired and sore.  His bruised throat burned with every breath.  The ache and weariness only made him more irritable.

He paused and sat beside Olsen to rest.  “Tell me, does your blood magic friend always set upon people in their sleep and make them choke themselves, or am I special?”

“You are special.”  Iban told Yami from behind them.

Yami started.  His hand gripped the hilt of his katana ready to pull it free of its sheath.

Damn it, Yami thought.  What’s with this guy?  Sometimes I can sense his Ki and other times not.

“Iban!” Olsen yelled, turning.  “What have I told you about toying with people in their sleep?”

“That it is rude.”  Iban said.

“That it’s rude.”  Olsen nodded.  “And we don’t want to be rude do we?”

Iban stared and slowly shook his head.

Olsen gave a firm nod.  “No.  We don’t.  Now apologize to Yami.”

“I don’t need an apology.”  Yami said, watching the two men.

“Yes you do.  He might do it again if you don’t insist on one.”  Olsen told Yami quietly out of the side of his mouth.

“I’ll kill him if he does it again.”  Yami said, voice loud enough for the Blood Mage to hear.  “That should be enough determent.  If not. Good riddance.”

“You have your way with your beasts.  I have my way with this one.” Olsen told Yami.  “Now.  Demand an apology.”

Upon hearing it put that way Yami took on the demeanor he would have if Pilfer or Mooshu got it in them to challenge him.

To Iban, Yami commanded.  “Apologize or we’ll find out if you can do blood magic without any of your own.”

“Good.” Olsen whispered.

Iban tilted his head golden eyes on Yami.  Is was as if the man was searching for a hint of insecurity.

Finding none Iban told Yami.  “I’m sorry.”

“Now tell him to go away.”  Olsen whispered.

Yami didn’t know why Olsen was whispering when he was certain Iban could here him but Yami had learned never to question a trainers methods about how they trained their beasts, especially in front of said beasts.

“Step back, turn, and go away.”  Yami ordered Iban.

Iban did just that.

Yami relaxed.  It felt as if he had just banished a yokai, or even some fey from his grandmothers homeland that she use to tell him stories about whenever she visited.

“You did good.”  Olsen smiled, patting Yami’s shoulder.

“I don’t understand.  But if it works I don’t care.”  Yami said.

“As long as you are mindful of him when he’s around, like you are when with your own creatures, he shouldn’t try anything like that again.”  Olsen told dropping his hand.

“Shouldn’t?” Yami questioned.

“Well...” Olsen shrugged.  “Don’t your creatures lapse from time to time?”

Yami glared.  “They’re beasts.  Not people who should know better.”

“Iban’s always been a bit--”

“Mad. Psychotic.  Killery.”  Yami supplied.

“Different.” Olsen said.

“I’d choose a more colorful word.”  Yami said.

“You chose three.”  Olsen replied.

“And each of them suit far better than ‘different’.”

“And I’d choose other words to describe your stinking, slobbering pets.” Olsen snapped.

“You think of Iban as a pet?”

“No. But I know you think of your beasts as such.”

Yami couldn’t argue there.  Both Pilfer and Mooshu had become dear to him.  A sort of pack.  Different, yet not dissimilar from the Black Bulls.

“You don’t even get near the Saber Wolves.  You avoid their pens at all costs.”  Yami commented.

“And don’t you do all you can to avoid Iban?”  Olsen questioned.

While Yami hadn’t really paid the strange, silent man much mind before; after last night, he certainly wouldn’t be seeking him out.

Olsen sighed.  “This is getting us nowhere and I don’t want to argue.

“Neither do I.”  Yami said surprised that that was true let alone such words actually came out of his mouth.

Olsen held out his hand and smiled.  “Friends.”

Yami slapped his hand away.  “Take a lot more than an argument to make me turn away.  Anyway, I have a question for you.”

“Oh?” Olsen raised a brow.

“What’s ‘intended’ mean?”

“I intend to bash your heads in if you don’t get moving.”  Bronn said, coming up behind them.  “Intended would be if you lot stopped burning daylight and got moving; as in I intended to bash your heads in but you kids started moving your asses up this damned mountain.”

Yami and Olsen started climbing.

After a while Olsen glanced back.  “You’re asking about what that royal boy called your girl.  Aren’t you?”

Yami looked at Olsen who marched in front of him.  “Yeah.”

Olsen winced in sympathy.  “I had heard things…  But with the way Teris is and the well known Silva family's pride and decorum...”

“What’s it mean?”  Yami demanded, temper already short.

From up ahead of Olsen, Bronn stopped and turned.  “It means the girl’s going to marry that royal twerp.”

Yami halted.  He looked from Bronn’s scowl to Olsen’s sympathetic expression, and shook his head.  “No.”

“Yes it does lad.  Suck it up and move on.”  Bronn turned away and looked up the mountain shading his eyes.  “I tried to tell you.  No matter what they want, they’ll always do what their family tells them to.”

“But Teris--”  Yami clenched his teeth.  “She doesn’t care what her family wants.  Even Julius said as much.”

“Doesn’t mean she won’t still do what they say in the end.”  Bronn said dropping his hand and looking back at him.  “Seen it too many times.”

“She can barely stand Nozel.”  Yami told shaking his head.

“Then poor girl’s gonna be miserable the rest of her life married to that arrogant stick.”  Bronn replied.

“Bronn.” Olsen said, softly.  “You’re not helping.”

“Oh, I’m helping alright.”  Bronn said.  “I tried to tell the boy months ago.  But did he listen?  Thought he was different.  That she was.  That love would find a way.”

“I never knew she was engaged.”  Yami burst, angry and betrayed.

No, he told himself.  There had to be some sort of mistake.  Some kind of misunderstanding.  Teris would never marry Nozel.  Would never lead him on.  Lie to him.  He recalled how angry she had been when she learned he had down played his injuries so she would forgive Nozel and speak to the Silver Eagle again.  His anger swelled up at her hypocrisy.  He felt foolish for his efforts on the Royal Ball of Prides behalf.

“She’s not engaged.”  Olsen said.  “She’s--”

“She might a well be.” Bronn cut in.  “She might as well be already married to the royal ass for all that’s gonna change.”

“Is that so?”  Yami asked Olsen.

Olsen looked at Yami mouth open, not knowing what to say.

“Is that so!”  Yami demanded.

“Teris is her own person.”  Olsen finally said.  “I’ve never met a royal girl like her.”

“Yeah? And how many royal girls have you met?  Just give it to him straight.”  Bronn told.

Olsen sighed closing his eyes.

Yami’s teeth pressed tighter together, fists clenching as he watched the Water Mage, waiting.

Opening his eyes Olsen said.  “I’ve never heard of anyone from high class society going against their family and refusing to wed who they were told.”

Yami swallowed taking that in.  “But just because you’ve never heard of it happening doesn’t mean it’s never happened.”

“That’s correct.”  Olsen nodded, subtlety.

“Give it up kid.”  Bronn said.

“No!” Yami yelled.  “Even if it’s never happened before.  There’s always a first time.  Teris is different.”

“So different she didn’t tell you Nozel was her Intended?”  Bronn asked.  At Yami’s expression he nodded.  “If she’s that royal boys Intended, then he’s hers.  It goes both ways.”

Yami glared.

“Look.” Bronn said, coming down the incline and pushing Olsen aside to stand in front of Yami.  “When I say I’ve seen it before I mean it. And not just from afar.  My own mother fell in love with a nobleman. Like Teris, his family intended to marry him someone of their choosing.  But he had no desire to wed the girl his family had picked.  He loved my mother.  He promised her that when the time came he would accept the loss of his family, title, name, and all that came with it but till then would do all he could to prove himself irreplaceable within the Magic Knights in the hopes that they could live comfortably despite the stigma of being cast out from his family.  My mother later told me that he never attempted anything that would cause a good girl shame saying they had plenty of time for that when they were married.  Till one night they gave into their desires.  She told me it never happened again.  Just that one time. But one time was all it took.”  Bronn paused scrapping his top teeth over his lower lip, looking away.  He raised his eyebrows and shook his head.  “The morning of the meeting between his family and the noble girls family he left my mother with a kiss telling her that he would be back later that day.  He never returned.”

“He married the noble girl?”  Olsen whispered.

“A few weeks later his betrothed came into the bakery my mother worked at with a group of other fine ladies to order a wedding cake.  My mother decorated the bloody thing.”  He placed a gentle hand on the back of Yami’s neck.  “You see kid.  I know what I’m talking about.  And it gives me no pleasure.  But, I’ll be damned if I stood by and wordlessly watched you give that girl your heart while she gave you a load of promises that won’t be kept.”

Thank you to those who have left hearts.  And a special THANK YOU to those who have recently left comments or re-blogged. They really mean a lot.

Taglist: @captncappuccino

[crushedbyhyperbole]

Beyond Broken - Chapter Three

A/N:  The closer we are to danger, the further we are from harm. - is a quote from LOTR-Two Towers (Peregrine Took).  Re. Playstation - I know the max PSN ID is 16 characters and ThorsMightyHammer is more but I give zero fucks on this one… I do what I want!  (spoken in Cartman’s voice).  Also… Mild Endgame Spoilers contained within.

Warnings:  Angst and dark thoughts, loneliness, people are hurting.

Caught up on earlier chapters?  If not, check out my Thor Odinson Mobile Masterlist

Hurricane Thor

“What are you doing here?” Thor grumbled from the sofa.  He’d heard the assassin pick the lock and enter but until she was in striking distance he chose to ignore her in favour of online gaming.

“Heard about a perpetual storm wreaking havoc along the coast in New London.  It’s got meteorologists baffled.  We figured it was you.”  She stepped into view, wearing casual attire; jeans and a fitted pea-coat.  At least she wasn’t there to kill him.  “Who moves to Connecticut anyway?”

“I’ll have you know I like it here.  It’s very, ahhh, wholesome.”  He was thumbing the PS4 controller like crazy.

Her reply was an eye roll.

He cursed heavily at the TV. Death by a pre-pubescent internet demon-troll wasn’t good for his mood.  He hated losing.

“Why are you here, Romanoff?”  He threw game controller down against the cushions and stood to his full height. “Surely you could have simply called.”

“Would have, but someone smashed his phone the last time we visited.”  She held out a new communicator with a sassy flick of her wrist. “Talk to Steve, we need you back.”

“I don’t want to be back.”  He grumbled, growing more ill-tempered.  “We lost. Thanos won.  What else is there to say?”

“Tony is out of rehabilitation.”  She begged with her eyes.  “At least come and see him now that he’s back in the lab and back to his philandering ways.”

“Oh that is good to hear.  I always liked it when Banner would throw out his secret stash of candy.” Thor smiled weakly, pulling a beer from the fridge.  “Want one?”

“Only if I’m celebrating a victory here.”  She smirked. “Does that mean you’ll come?”

Thor grinned.  He had missed the camaraderie between them all but they were also a constant reminder of his own failure.  He’d had a chance to put a stop to Thanos and had failed spectacularly.  Half of all life had been wiped out and there was nothing he could do.  Even their second chance had come too late; locating his sanctuary, finding the planet defenceless, facing the mad titan himself only to find the stones gone.

“I used the stones to destroy the stones.”  That purple monstrosity had said.  

Thanos was so sure of his inevitability that he didn’t even put up a fight when Thor hacked off his head with Stormbreaker.  There was no satisfaction in the act, only a solitary step out over the precipice to oblivion.

Thor’s grin was gone.

“No.”  He rumbled so deeply it was almost a growl.

Thor chugged the bottle, feeling himself get sucked down under a tide of self-loathing.  No amount of weak Midgardian ale could numb his pain.

“At least take the phone.” She softened her gaze.  “We’re here if you need us.”

“Very well.”  He huffed.

She was gone without another word.  Closing the door behind her as she left.  Thor knew she’d be back at some point, and if not her then maybe Stark.  Once they found him they never stopped coming.  

Thor had grown to like this town.  He’d been here two months.  He liked the sea and the solitude.  Not many people in this town recognised him.  He was free from attention, blame, and harassment.  It was the closest to peaceful he could get.

Right back after the snap, he’d found a place with his people in a little fishing village in the remote north of a country called Scotland. The whole village had been wiped out on D-Day. He took the village and renamed it New Asgard. But even there, amongst his people, he found no peace, only guilt.  They’d quickly found him there, The Avengers, asking him to return to the fight, so he had left New Asgard and went anywhere he thought no one would know him.

The closer you are to danger, the further you are from harm. He’d read that somewhere, wasn’t sure where exactly, but he’d decided that New London was just close enough to up state New York to put him under The Avenger’s Radar.  These two months had been the longest he’d gone without them finding him.  He cursed his storm inducing mood swings.  Maybe he should have moved into Stark’s basement and brooded there instead.

Last night had been the first night in weeks that it hadn’t rained.  He had been all set to let his mood bring more thunder but something had changed.

The girl.  He thought.

She’d been a delicate looking thing, sleek and slender, with radiant skin and dark hair.

Fragile.  That’s how he’d seen her the first few nights she’d passed him at his brooding spot. But there was a strength in her. She fought a great sorrow.  He could tell, even without his bionic eye.

Thoughts of her drew his mind to the man she was with.  The one who left her alone and out in the cold waiting for him.  There was something unsavoury about that man.  Thor didn’t much care for him but a woman’s choice in partner was none of his business.  It must be his ring she wore on her finger.

Flopping down on the sofa again he turned his attention back to his Playstation.

“Right then, Noobmaster69, it’s time to meet your doom at the hands of ThorsMightyHammer!”  It was a battle cry suitable only for a middle-aged nerd’s soundproofed basement, but he gave it with gusto regardless. Controller in hand, he set about the thrashing of one anonymous online gamer.

 The gym at Ocean Beach Park was open all night.  He’d been in there a few times when it was quiet.  Early in the morning or late at night was better.  He had basic weights there in the apartment but no treadmill, cross trainer or anything he could use to really punish himself.

No matter how much he distracted himself from it, the thought of the girl and her yapping dog wouldn’t leave his mind.  There was something about her that he was drawn to, some innate quality she was possessed of that he sensed, and liked.  

He told himself that he was going to the gym but instead he pounded the pathways of the park itself in a rhythmic and sweaty search for any sign of her.

She hadn’t been at the twelfth marker, nor anywhere along the promenade.  He checked, running its whole length, twice.  There were dog walkers still exercising their companions but none were her, and none of the dogs even looked similar to her little white and tan pup with the huge fluffy ears.  He didn’t see her gentleman friend either.

Perhaps she had been scared off.  Perhaps.

By the time midnight came around, he was dripping with sweat and extremely hungry.  A jumbo pizza and some buffalo wings were just what he craved. Eating hastily on the walk home, he noticed the little café across from the park.  The logo on the shutter triggered a memory of slender fingers grasping a paper cup with the same design.  Smiling through a mouthful of pizza he carried on his journey home feeling peppy. He felt energised, contently full of greasy food and had another point of reference for his mystery woman.

There’s always tomorrow.  He thought.

[cafeinthemoon]

Kasumi - Chapter 2

Title: Kasumi - A Story from the Hidden Leaf Village

Genre: Fanfiction

Pairing: Genma Shiranui x Kasumi Saya (ofc)

Rating: Teen | up

Word count: 1720

Chapter (s): 2/?

Warnings: nightmares, psychological trauma, painful memories and ophidiophobia (fear of snakes)

Symbols: 🌙 | ➕ | ▶▶

Read the previous chapter here: Chapter 1

Chapter 2 - “It Matches You”

Kasumi was looking at the stone before her without seeing it. she saw it so many times that she was capable of reciting the words carved on it with her eyes closed: her mother’s name, the days when she came to this world and when she left and a phrase she liked.

Fear is nothing compared to what courage can do for you.

With her hands still trembling to the memory of the snake, her knees buried in the wet grass and the cold wind that came with the night and now lashed her skin, the last thing she could do is thinking about courage. Now, with those circumstances, it was hard to figure out if her mother understood what these words would mean to someone like Kasumi. She probably did not; they were just a mantra that she used to repeat to herself before every mission. She didn’t adopt it thinking of something of that kind; it never occurred to her that something like that would happen. That was true.

However, her daughter kept visiting her tomb. If staying there re-reading the phrase would not bring her courage, at least it calmed her hands. Kasumi had to maintain their firmness, for the good of her work. And for moments like that, when she sensed she was not alone.

She grabbed a kunai from her bag and shot it at some point at her back. But as soon as she turned, she saw that it didn’t reach its target: because of the silence around, the blade made a loud noise when it was deflected by a senbon. Kasumi took a sigh of relief.

- Why scaring me like this? - she complained as Genma approached.

He laughed. Took the senbon in the middle of the way and put it back on his mouth.

- I would be the last person in this world to scare you – he sat beside her, his hands on the grass, his legs crossed – If you didn’t know it was me, you wouldn’t have shot a real kunai.

Kasumi’s knees started to hurt, and she changed her position.

- I had no choice. I’m almost running out of chakra.

For a moment, none of them spoke. All that was heard was the wind whispering in the grass and the distant trees. The girl looked at the sky, a black space crowded by stars, sometimes visible, other times hidden behind the grey mass of the clouds, passing fast towards the west.

She was the first to speak.

- I am sorry that I spoke to you that way, Genma – she looked from the stars to him – Things got complicated… again.

Genma nodded.

- Those nightmares. It’s happening again, right?

Kasumi took a deep breath.

- It started a few days ago – she clenched her fists – After all these years trying to get rid of them… And that scene in the woods…

Genma didn’t reply. He stood up and offered his hand.

- Come. Let’s go to see the Hokage.

Her eyes widened.

- Right now? I think it’s better to…

He didn’t wait to hear the complete sentence. He hold her arm and lifted her.

- Do you want to sleep tonight or not?

Kasumi felt her face burn. That was not right. A shinobi was supposed to be able to take care of herself and her friends, but she has been carried by them for too long. By that time, Genma should be in his home, taking a rest; but here he was, busy with her. It wasn’t fair, and he didn’t seem to care. Well, what was she thinking? He was acting like the shinobi he was, worried about her, doing what he can to help her. But, still…

He just took his first step when she called him. He turned to her.

- What?

- You don’t have to do this. Go home. I’ll take care of this myself. Tomorrow I will speak to the Hokage.

Kasumi’s tone was serious. She would do as she just said, and everything would be fixed. Genma knew that. Still, all of this made him smile.

- Are you finished? Can we go now?

Of course, it was nearly impossible to discuss with him. But she wasn’t irritated; she could never get mad at her friend. Once she understood that trying to convince him was a waste of time, she said they could go. Hoping that darkness to be enough to hide from him the tears that filled her eyes, Kasumi left.

***

Years ago

The street was so full of people that Kasumi couldn’t see anything but the villagers around her. She knew that street well, and she knew the shop she was looking for was nearby, but how she would find it if she couldn’t see the signs of any shop?

She stopped, looked around and sighed, irritated. Sometimes, it was like there’s no gain when you’re a child, and such a little one. If she was as tall as her mom, everything would be easier. But in the present case, she would have to do things the hard way.

She thought of leaving the middle of the street and stop by a corner, away from the crowd. Thus, she would know exactly where she was, and then the direction she was supposed to follow. It was easier to imagine than to do it, of course: every step she took, someone crossed her way and pushed her back to her previous place. But she didn’t give up. After what seemed to be a long time, she managed to reach a flower tent, separated from the people.

But not from all of them.

One more step and she bumped into someone behind her. When she turned to face the person, any emotions bubbling inside her – angry for not getting rid from all of those adults in her way, shame for being a clumsy girl or fear for meeting a stranger who she wasn’t sure she could escape from – disappeared, for the person who was staring her back was a very strange man.

By the clothes he was wearing and the blue bandanna on his forehead, he was a shinobi. But for some reason he didn’t resemble the other people of his class; indeed, he would differ from everyone inside any group. First, his skin was too pale, as if he haven’t see the sunlight in a long time; this paleness was increased by his hair, in black strands that fell straight to his waist. However, his eyes were the strangest of all: Kasumi tried to convince herself that they had an almond shade, but they seemed yellow, and radiated with a peculiar bright.

The man didn’t say a word when he saw the girl. Instead, he bent down, leaning on his knee, and smiled. Now that his eyes were at the same height as hers, Kasumi noticed that their pupils were two vertical streaks and not two black dots upon the yellow. They resembled the eyes of a serpent; well, his whole self reminded her of a serpent.

The first words were his.

- Hello, little one. What are you doing here? Are you lost?

The man’s voice was not what the girl expected, but once she heard it, she thought that it was exactly how it was supposed to be. It was low, close to a whisper; it was also calm, and something in it had a soothing effect on Kasumi: it was like each of his words would enter her mind telling her not to be afraid or worried. Besides, if there was something like a clever voice, that was his voice: she was sure that, whatever the problem she had, he understood her better than herself and he will help her.

Still, she didn’t answer his questions. She just nodded because, even when she knew that street, she felt lost. He must have noticed, judging by what he said:

- Guess I know what you’re thinking. Are you feeling like you are in some unknown place, aren’t you?

Again, she nodded.

- It is a bad feeling, right?

- Yes.

He smiled at this.

- Oh, you can talk.

His sense of humor surprised Kasumi.

- Of course I can.

- Well, then. Tell me your name.

- Kasumi… Saya.

He pondered.

- Your surname is familiar to me. I know your mother. She’s a very talented shinobi.

Hearing him talk about her mom like this encouraged her, so that she spoke without hesitate.

- Yes, she is! I’m so happy to know you have such a good opinion on her, Sir, because I want I want to be just like her when I grow up.

The man laughed.

- Well, all of us have a good opinion on her. Speaking of it, now that I’m looking at you for quite some time, I see how much you resemble her.

That stranger was not the first to state that Kasumi resembled her mother. While she thought of an answer, he stretched his arm to one of the vases beside them and took a flower with a grey stem and orange petals. He offered it to the girl, who held it with both hands.

- I will buy this one for you, little one.I think it matches you.

Indeed, the flower resembled her, because her eyes were grey and her hair, on her shoulders, was orange.

- It’s so beautiful – she said, caressing its petals – Thank you.

- I told you it matches you – he replied with a smile – I believe that one day you will become a shinobi as good as your mother.

He put his hand on her head and stroked her hair.

- You’re very kind, Sir – Kasumi replied, still looking at the flower; then, she turned to him – You still didn’t tell me your name. I’d like to know.

The man’s smile took a distinct appearance, as an inexplicable change of expression. Something burned in his eyes, but she didn’t know what it was. For a moment, it seemed that he wasn’t going to answer, but in the next one she heard him say with the usual soft tone:

- My name won’t be so hard for you to remember, since it is not a common one. It is Orochimaru.

[gweniala]

Quantum Uncertainty

After re-reading Dake of the Past by shinakazami1, I was so violently inspired that I spent the whole afternoon, evening and morning writing. This is the 9-page result. I am proud of my muse.

If you’re not familiar with my five Guardians, have a look at NH: The Guardians at my dA page. That should do for an introduction so that you’re not confused who is who.

Important note: Several parts of this fanfiction, mostly the “flashbacks”, were taken from shina’s Dake of the Past and adapted so that they’d fit with my writing style a little more. I don’t claim ownership of those pieces. In fact, this entire thing is heavily based on Dake of the Past, it’s basically a retelling from another angle and... making it cannon. Go shina, your ideas are strange and awesome.

***

„Adah!“

The scream woke Ruze up like a knife stab. He shot up and looked around wildly. He heard a thump in the darkness… and when he finally made light, he saw Dake lying on the floor next to his bed.

“…What?” Gome asked sleepily.

“Dake?” Ruze growled. The Guardian of Fire groaned.

“I think I was having a nightmare…”

Ruze snorted, half annoyed, half relieved. “Don’t scare me like that. You almost gave me a heart attack.”

“Sorry…” Dake muttered, picking himself up from the floor. “Good night,” he said, lying down again.

“What was the nightmare about?” Gome asked curiously. He was shushed by three of his brothers, but Dake answered in spite of that. “I don’t rememeber anymore…”

“Lame,” Gome yawned.

Before Ruze went back to sleep, he saw Dake light a scented candle beside his bed. He usually kept one alight throughout the night, said it helped him sleep. Did he forget to light it in the evening? Ruze couldn’t remember.

They all fell back asleep one by one.

***

“Tell me only once more ‘I love you’… and I will never go away again.”

***

“Look at that beauty,” Dake said and nudged Kamzik in the rib cage. The Hoodian jerked and spilled dynamite powder on his lap.

“What?”

Dake pointed. Caline and Krevel were walking across the Arena toward the Explosive Shack. They were chatting amicably.

“May I remind you that she’s married?” Kamzik pulled one brow up and returned to stuffing his dynamite stick.

“Yeah but… do you see those huge… stems?” Dake grinned shamelessly, gesturing in front of his chest.

Kamzik rolled his eyes. “Why won’t you just leave her alone?”

“Because she’s one of the very few girls here!” Dake retorted, his gaze never leaving Caline’s body. “I can’t waste this opportunity.”

“It’s always girls, girls, girls with you,” Kamzik looked at the Guardian angrily. “What’s your problem? There aren’t any girls on the Neverhood. The only ones we’ve got is Tao who’s weird and Klaya who’s your mother! Why do you keep going on about them? Aren’t guys enough friends for you?”

“Ah-ah,” Dake wagged his finger. “You have to learn to appreciate beauty, my friend. The curves of a female body are the most refreshing gaze one can… Hello, madame,” he took off his non-existent hat and bowed to Caline, who had just entered the Shack. “May I interest you in some fireworks tonight?”

“No flirting, we’re just passing through,” Krevel told him sternly and pushed Caline through the Shack.

“They will start at eight in the Arena if you take a fancy!” Dake called after them with a wide smile. “Anyway, as I was saying,” he turned back to Kamzik. He paused when he saw what the Hoodian was doing with the dynamite stick. “That is going to explode in your hands, you know,” he said dryly.

“No, it’s not,” Kamzik defended his craft, covering the stick end and inspecting the finished product.

“Uh-huh,” Dake nodded, unimpressed. He took the dynamite stick from Kamzik’s hand (“Hey!”) and walked out into the Arena (“What’s your problem?”). “Watch and learn,” he told his discontented friend. He snapped his fingers and the fuse caught on fire. He barely had time to extend his hand before the dynamite exploded.

“For Quater’s sake, you madman!” Kamzik cried out, running out of the Shack toward his friend. When the smoke cleared, he saw that Dake was covered in soot and completely unharmed. “You’re crazy!”

“And you can’t stuff a dynamite stick,” Dake replied swiftly. “Come on, I’ll show you how it’s done so that you don’t lose a limb or two the next time.”

***

“Dake, why are you sleeping on the ground?”

It was Loopid, one of the youngest Hoodians. Dake groaned. He found Loopid terribly annoying. Whenever Dake approached a lady, this guy would appear out of nowhere and spoil his plans.

“What do you want, Loop?” Dake growled as he picked himself up from the ground. “I’m not bothering anyone right now. Is there a problem?”

Loopid didn’t answer. He was looking at his feet, rocking from side to side gently. Then he smiled, waved at Dake and walked away.

What is up with this guy? One moment he hates me, the next he’s all smiles.

But he wouldn’t waste any more time on him. He needed to see Klem, one of the Neverhood medics. Surely she would give him her time of the day.

***

Arig was tending to a gramophone flower sapling when he heard the inarticulate cry. He looked around quickly, recalling whom he had recently seen in the Garden. When he couldn’t see anyone, he felt out. Immediately he noticed a Hoodian lying under the five-leaved ivy. He rushed over. It was Dake, lying on his side and twitching.

“You said to her… live for… three more years, and…“ he was mumbling.

„Dake,“ Arig called out to his brother. Dake didn’t react.

“Without any memories about me…”

“Dake, wake up,” Arig nudged him gently.

Suddenly Dake’s eyes sprang open. “You BASTARD!” he bellowed and swung his arm, sending a fan of blazing fire out. Arig leaped backward. The heat singed his face and chest, leaving behind nasty burns.

“D-D-Dake?!” he stuttered, wide-eyed and terrified. He felt his face; the wounds were regenerating.

Dake blinked and sat up. He looked at his hand. “What?” he uttered, disoriented. Then he looked at Arig and his eyes widened. “By mother, bro, I’m so sorry,” he got to his feet and went to hug Arig, but the Hoodian scooted away. Dake stopped, looking regretful and ashamed. “I must have been having a nightmare.”

Arig nodded, taking deep breaths to calm himself down. He had not seen that coming at all. It had been harmless, all in all, but for a Guardian to use his powers against his brother… “I know. You… you realise that they keep coming back, right? Are you doing anything about them?”

Dake shrugged helplessly. “Candles help. I didn’t want to fall asleep here… Arig, I’m sorry man…”

Arig waved his hand. “I’m fine, you just scared me. Come on, let’s sit down. Do you remember what the nightmares are about? You keep calling someone called Adah…”

“Adah…” Dake repeated thoughtfully. “Doesn’t ring a bell. Maybe Hoborg knows something about them.” He rubbed his hands gleefully. “I hope it’s a girl! Then I could have one at least in my sleep.”

***

“Adah,” Bobuslaw set down a large dusty book, “was a historical figure. She was a wife to Nuri and the sole survivor of the burning of Lides. She lived on a world created by Arven a long time ago. Her name survived to this day because the village’s gruesome end attracted much attention, including that of historians.”

“What happened?” Krevel asked, sipping at his cup of tea.

“Bad business,” Bobuslaw shook his head sadly. “The village shaman, Majeer Shanem, went mad. He murdered everyone in the village except for Adah and then set his house on fire. The fire blazed so high that it could be seen hundreds of miles away. Adah was found scrambling through the ruins, half insane with pain from the burns. She was trying to find the corpse of her husband, Nuri, among the corpses of the villagers, but they were all burned beyond recognition… She died on the same day, but not before she told everyone what had happened. That’s how she made it into historic records.”

“Why did the shaman spare her?” Krevel asked.

Bobuslaw shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe he liked her?”

Krevel made a small sceptical smile. “Thank you, Bobuslaw. You’ve been a great help. Your library’s really the best. We couldn’t find a mention of Adah in the entire Castle or in the Hall of Records.”

Bobuslaw blushed and chuckled from the praise. “Do you want to borrow the book? Perhaps you’ll find more interesting things in there.”

“I would like to,” Krevel nodded curtly. “Ottoborg?” he called upstairs. “I’m done here. Would you mind coming down and giving me a ride back to the Brokenhood?”

***

“Nuri was a Guardian of Fire,” Ruze muttered darkly, flipping through the pages. “The shaman didn’t burn his house down, it was Nuri who came in there and fought him with fire. Dake shouldn’t be remembering this. He’s not supposed to recall any of this.”

“But he doesn’t, does he?” Gome piped up. “He has no idea who Nuri or Adah are. He doesn’t remember that previous life when he’s awake.”

“He’s not supposed to remember it at all!” Ruze raised his voice. “Sorry. Fuck.” He ran his hand across his face. “This is really bad. I don’t know what’s happening, but it’s really bad.”

“How can you tell?” Arig asked carefully.

Ruze hesitated. “I don’t know. Gut feeling. I’m just getting the feeling that remembering your previous incarnation is really, really not supposed to happen. I’m worried that the hothead might be interdimensionally sick.”

“Interdimensionally sick,” Gome repeated in admiration. “Psyche… I wanna be interdimensionally sick.”

“No, you don’t,” Ruze snapped, but he couldn’t help smiling.

***

“Higher, higher! Nuri, I want to go higher.”

“Hush love, any more and the fire might hurt you. I can’t let that happen.”

Adah just laughed and told Nuri to give her a break. After their hot-air balloon touched down, she made dinner for them, and like every day, they ate it together in the garden.

When they were just about finished, Adah disregarded table manners and began to sing:

“Something so unfair,

a woman kills a man.

Why did we not beware

and why did you say it, Shanem?

We will die anyway,

but what will it be for

if we have to start up everything

right from the beginning once more?”

She stopped and smiled at Nuri. He knew that his wife’s health was getting worse. He needed to go alone to Majeer Shanem and ask him some questions. And one of those questions was…

***

“We don’t think this is a good idea,” Ottimo shook his head.

“Please,” Ruze stepped forward. “You and Tuborg are the only ones who can help us. Hoborg has rejected us twice now, and Ottoborg doesn’t want anything to do with it.”

“Have you considered that they might have a reason for that?” Tuborg asked snidely. “I’m not saying a machine that can read dreams is impossible…”

“…but it’s really immoral,” Ottimo finished for him. “I like my privacy when I dream.”

“You share half of your dreams with me,” Tuborg narrowed his eyes as his twin.

“You don’t count,” Ottimo shrugged.

“Then it’s possible,” Ruze latched onto the only important thing he had heard. “You can get inside someone’s head and see their dreams.”

The twins looked at each other. Ottimo pinched the bridge of his nose. “Let me get this straight. You’re worried that your brother is ripping through reality when he sleeps, which is why he gets dreams about his past life.”

Ruze nodded. Ottimo stared at him in exasperation.

“Don’t you think that it could be a coincidence? Maybe he just have heard the name Adah somewhere. Dreams are weird.”

“And repetitive,” Tuborg added. “Sometimes you’ll have the same dream for years.”

“On top of that, your brother is a womaniser who can’t keep it in his pants for shit,” Ottimo continued.

“He’s been constantly hitting both on our mother and our sister, who are both happily married,” Tuborg elaborated.

“Why would we want to help you get inside his head when we don’t like him very much already?” Ottimo finished.

Ruze bit his lip. “I can offer a favour.”

Ottimo waved his hand, dismissing that option. “Favours are a Neverhoodian thing. Raise the bid.”

“You want money?” Ruze stared at them in surprise.

“What? No!” Ottimo recoiled.

“Best klay would be nice, though,” Tuborg interjected thoughtfully.

“Brother dear, don’t get distracted,” Ottimo told his twin. Tuborg shrugged and smiled.

Ruze huffed. “Fine. Then what about information?”

“Ooh,” the twins said in unison and leaned forward.

“Now you’re talking,” Tuborg said.

“What kind of information?” Ottimo asked, grinning. “A new robot drive?”

Ruze turned his palms up, shrugging. “I may come up with something. Let me into your workshop and I’ll figure something out.”

Tuborg caught Ottimo’s eye. “Are we really going to sell out like this?” he asked, a little concerned.

“Depends on what miracle of technology he comes up with,” Ottimo shrugged and smirked. “Think of dad’s reaction when he sees it. It has to be real good if we’re constructing a dream reader in return.”

***

“And I’m supposed to sleep with this thing on my head?” Dake asked sceptically, turning the dark grey helmet in his hands. “Won’t it explode and tear my head off?”

“It won’t, I checked,” Ruze assured him.

“Right.” Dake rubbed his lips. “I’m still not totally cool with this, just so you know. I’m not wrong it the head. A dude’s allowed to dream.”

“Just put it on,” Usha rolled his eyes and prodded his brother. “We’re all curious about Adah.”

“One more thing,” Dake said as he was putting the helmet on his head. “You’re the only ones who’ll see this, right? Bros before hoes. You’ll tell no one.”

“We promise,” Ruze knocked on the grey helmet affectionately. “Now go to sleep. I hope you’re not too nervous to fall asleep.”

“I’ll keep you all awake for hours,” Dake laughed sinisterly.

He was out within ten minutes.

***

“It’s nice to have such a good patient,” Klem smiled at Dake, wiping her hands clean on a white peace of cloth. “But next time, please, don’t visit ill ladies again. You might not wake up again. Capishe?”

“Of course, Klem,” Dake smiled back, appreciating the view of her curving body. “I don’t understand what happened either. I wanted to find you because I didn’t feel so good, and then I don’t remember anything.”

“Not even what you did in the waiting room?” Klem asked, raising a brow.

“Eh heheh, you know me…” Dake laughed it off. “I’ll see you.”

“Take care,” Klem said, catching and holding his eye as he walked out of the infirmary.

***

“Wow, it’s his dream girl! Did you see that look? That’s what I can flirting!”

“Hush, Gome. You’ll wake the loverboy up.”

***

On his way home, Dake found something completely unexpected.

“Hello girl!” he whistled. “Do you come down here often?” Finally, a new face! He had never seen this Hoodian, and she didn’t look like she knew this place either.

“Yes, quite often,” she smiled at him and batted her eyelashes. She made his blood boil just by that little gesture. “Tell me, darling, where can I find Hoborg?” Her voice was so familiar. But, as he looked at her chest, that wasn’t the only familiar thing about her. That chest didn't belong to the girl from his dreams. No, it was…

“Of course,” he heard himself say. “But first, won’t you tell me your name?” It couldn't be. That chest was the same as Loopid’s. The shape of it was different, of course, but the threaded markings definitely looked similar to his.

”This is my problem,” the girl sighed. “I need to find the king so that he gives me a name. My brother already has one, but I don't.”

“Who’s your brother? You know, most of us can be siblings and lovers at the same time.” He smiled at her, as bright as the sun, while his stomach was turning like a restless otter. He felt like he knew her.

“Well, his name is Loopid…” she told him intimately.

He remembered Loopid's birth. He was born with three brothers, no sisters. But let's play this game of yours, he thought. “Really? Where is your brother now?”

“Oh Nuri,” the girl purred, coming even closer to him. “He is here.”

Dake’s eyes widened. “What did you call me?” Nuri. That name… it belonged to him. How? He felt like something was tearing… “What is this game?” he grabbed the girl by her shoulders. “Who are you? How do you know-” Unwelcome images flashed in his mind: a great fire, a crouching shaman covered in red… a great despair.

Her smile vanished. She looked down and said: “You said that one day I would be the one to forget you. And yet I see you here, chasing other women, not remembering me… Loop is doing a good job.” She sounded close to tears. She looked him in the eye hopefully. “Don’t you remember someone named Adah?”

It was her. The one he had been longing for. Wordless, he hugged her. He was happy that only she could see him cry. Corrupted memories were flooding in.

Then he heard a male voice.

“Welp, I see this session is over. I thought she said she could be here a little here longer.”

***

Dake yelped and jerked awake. Arig went to calm him down, helping him take the grey helmet off. The Guardian of Fire squinted at the static-filled screen.

“Well? Did you see something?”

His brothers responded with silence.

“What? I don’t remember anything. Was it scary? Was it rad? I think I woke up with terror, but I can’t really remember what it was about…”

Finally Ruze broke the silence. “This is really bad.”

“What?” Dake bristled. “Why? You guys – what did you see?”

“It was another Neverhood,” Gome said with wonder. “Different from this one. There were different buildings and different people… I hardly recognised some of the places. But it was definitely the Neverhood.”

“Oh,” Dake perked up. “Were there girls?”

“You talked to two of them, but I saw a lot more,” Gome nodded. “I thought you said the image would be hazy and blurred?” he turned to Ruze. “But I could see everything in detail. And were we supposed to hear Dake’s thoughts, too? By mother, I’d never looked at someone’s chest with that much intensity.”

“We weren’t,” Ruze growled from where he was leaning against the wall, arms crossed. “That’s the point. This wasn’t a dream.”

“What about a very vivid dream?” Usha suggested.

“No!” Ruze barked, making Usha jump. Then hid his face in his palms and groaned. “Why are you doing this to me, Dake…”

“I’m not doing anything, you’re the one who insisted that you take a peek at my dreams,” Dake protested. “Not my fault you didn’t like what you see. I don’t remember any of it!”

“Do you really not remember a single dream?” Arig asked. “Not ever?”

“Not ever,” Dake confirmed. “I’ve always been jealous of people who remembered their dreams. I know that I have dreams, but I forget them the moment I wake up.”

“Ruze?” Gome said. “Do you mind telling us why you’re so upset over this?”

Ruze let his hands down and glared at his well-meaning brother. “Sure,” he said in the end. “What Dake’s having aren’t dreams. He’s tapping into another reality. That’s why the image is so clean. His brain isn’t making it up as it goes. It’s genuinely happening, somewhere very far away, and our lover boy switches between bodies and realities as he goes.”

“Ahem,” Usha cleared his throat, breaking the still that followed. “Not to be a spoil-sport, but are you sure that you’ve been getting enough sleep? You sound half delirious right now. I’m pretty sure that other realities don’t exist.”

“I’m-” Ruze began to snap back, but then he noticed the others nodding. “…You really think so? That I’m making this up?”

“I’m just saying that you’re reading a lot into it,” Usha shrugged apologetically. “How would you convince us that what you’re saying is true? Do you have anything beside your gut feeling?”

Ruze hesitated. Then he sighed, defeated, and leaned back against the wall.

“It would explain one thing, though,” Arig spoke up in a musing tone. “Didn’t you find it weird that Dake always chased after girls, even though there weren’t any? Maybe he does it because he remembers them from his dreams. After all, there were a lot of girls there.”

“I don’t remember anything from my dreams, I’ve just told you,” Dake pouted. “Don’t make me out to be deranged.”

“No,” Arig shook his head, “I’m not saying anything like that. It wouldn’t be the first time someone I knew switched back and forth between an alterego and didn’t remember anything.” He paused, looking at his brothers expectantly. Confused stares was all he got. “Really? No one’s told you The Perfect Stone yet?” He shook his head in disbelief. “I’ll have to get Nike to tell it to you once he comes back again. It was Krevel. For reasons I can’t begin to speculate about, he put Hoborg’s crown on many years ago. He turned evil and forgot everything he was before.”

“Holy water,” Gome interrupted. “Krevel put on Hoborg’s crown? And they just let him walk around the Hood after that? He’s a security risk!”

Arig shrugged uneasily. “I… don’t think he is? Anyway, that’s beside the point. What I want to say is, after Krevel turned into Leverk, he didn’t remember anything about being Krevel. And after he turned back, he didn’t recall anything about being Leverk either. But Nike and Nehmen insist that it was still the same person, with the same background, opinions and insights. He just didn’t keep any conscious memories. It was all in the subconsciousness.” He tapped his temple. “The same thing could go for Dake. He doesn’t remember any girls in particular, but he knows that there are supposed to be girls.”

“Are you serious?” Dake frowned at him. “Your theories are even more unhinged than Ruze’s. Don’t tell me you actually believe the guy.”

Arig made a defensive gesture, sitting back on his bed. “Don’t shoot the messenger. I’m just pointing out that there’s a precedent.”

“I don’t have an evil alter ego!” Dake cried out. “Seriously, I think this entire business with dream reading is a load of bullshit. I don’t know why I agreed to it in the first place.”

“Your previous incarnation apparently burned his shaman’s house down to the ground,” Ruze growled.

“He was very obviously upset that his entire village had been killed!” Dake threw his arms out.

“Yes, my point exactly,” Ruze bared his teeth, rising up from the wall. “He let his fury get the better of him. As far as we know, both he and the shaman burned to their deaths in that house.”

“Don’t compare me to some lunatic!” Dake hissed, getting up from his bed as well. “Should I dig up some historic records of your previous lives, see how you fared in the big cruel world?”

“Guys,” Gome said unhappily.

“Go ahead and try,” Ruze hissed back. “Whenever we find references of previous Guardians, it’s always the Guardian of Fire. Who was the first one we learned about, huh? The Warrior of Fire, Gerard. Very moving story, tells how you got your cool sword. Begins with how you burned your house down and our parents with it.”

“Burn in hell!” Dake shouted, stomping his foot. Sparks came out from under it. “You don’t get to order me around like this! My past selves are long gone, and my dreams are mine alone!”

“Funny thing that,” Ruze snarled. “Cause it seems to me like you’re breaking the fabric of the universe in your dreams. You always did what you wanted, chaos. As thoughtless as ever.”

Dake placed his palm over his chest and bright red light seeped from between his fingers. “You will NOT-”

There was a loud crash followed by a splash. Dake yelped and jumped back as rivulets of water ran across the floor. They converged in Gome’s hands as one bobbing blob of water.

“Alright you hotheads – I have a bucketful of water and I’m not afraid to use it!” the Guardian shouted, taking a battle stance. “The first one to smite the other will get wet from head to toe! Seriously though,” he added in a tone much less aggressive and more pleading, “quit it, please. You look like you’re gonna murder each other. Can’t you just take a break and talk it out? Ruze, you don’t gotta rub Dake’s previous lives in his face, you know that’s a low blow…”

Ruze seemed to deflate at that. He slumped his shoulders and said quietly: “I see. That’s how it is, then. None of you believe me.” And he turned to leave. He ignored when several voices called out “wait”. When someone grabbed his hand to stop him, he tried to yank it out. But the grip was stronger than he had expected. He turned around to glare at whoever was stopping him from leaving. He hesitated when he found that it was Arig.

“You…”

“Don’t run away,” the Guardian of Earth said quietly, covering his brother’s hand with his other palm. “We’re here, we’re with you. If something is wrong, we need to know.”

Ruze wavered. Arig pressed his hand and pulled him back gently. “Come. You need to explain where you’re coming from. Otherwise we’ll never understand you.”

Ruze took a deep breath and released it in a sigh. “Fine,” he murmured. He plopped down on his bed and hid his face in his hands. Gome gave Dake a threatening look and wobbled the water bubble in his hands.

“Put that away,” Dake muttered nervously.

“No playing with swords in the bedroom,” Gome reminded him. “Um, Arig? Would you make me a bucket? I don’t have anywhere to put this.”

Dake lit a scented candle it the meantime. It filled the room with the fragrance of chamomile.

“Alright,” Ruze raised his head when they were all settled down. “So… you know that I’m the Guardian of Order, right?”

“Order?” Usha echoed. “You’re the Guardian of Invisible Forces, aren’t you?”

Ruze nodded. “I thought you might not know. Yeah, that’s what they call me. Earth, Water, Air and Fire… and Invisible Forces. Didn’t that seem odd to you? That the fifth element is kinda… redundant?”

“I thought they didn’t know what to call you, so they just came up with something,” Dake shrugged.

Ruze smirked. “I’d think you were trying to be a smart arse, if that wasn’t exactly how it is. Thing is, we didn’t start out as the Guardians of Earth, Water and so on. We started out as three Guardians of the real world and two Guardians of the meta world. The real world, obviously, falls onto you three,” he gestured to Arig, Gome and Usha. “You don’t have elements per se, you command the three states of matter: solid klay, liquid klay and gaseous klay. Earth, water and air just happen to be their most prevalent examples.”

“Oh yeah,” Gome lit up. “I found out I could control molten metal the other day. Cool, right?”

Ruze nodded. “Arig goes a little out of this context because of his second contract, but his flower power is just a wild mix of empathy and regular solid klay skills.”

“Don’t call it flower power,” Arig protested weakly.

“And then,” Ruze paid him no mind, “you’ve got me and Dake. Anyone take a guess what our ‘real elements’ might be?”

“You said you were the Guardian of Order,” Gome said in an unsure tone.

“Congrats, you have an attention span longer than a fish,” Ruze smirked. “And Dake?”

“You called me chaos before,” the Guardian of Fire muttered reluctantly.

“Yep,” Ruze stared at his brother. “You’re the Guardian of Chaos. You could also be called Energy, or Entropy, or Change. Either way, Quater’s original intent was that three of his Guardians represent matter, and two Guardians the antagonistic forces that shape matter. I get to make the rules. You get to break them.” Ruze rubbed his eyes with his palm. “I can’t imagine what the world looks like to you, guys. I suppose you’re ‘one’ with your element. You can feel it, you can move it, it feels like a second nature to you.”

“Something along those lines,” Usha commented.

“To me, the world is a set of rules,” Ruze continued. “I feel the tick of time. I know the structure of things and how they fall one into the other. I get the most basic of forces, gravity, electricity and magnetism, because everything else is too complex for me to fully understand. I get a few cool tricks, but they’re not terribly useful in real life.” He sighed and glared at Dake. “And then there’s you. Who’s able to break my rules without any conscious effort. Who apparently travels in space and time and between alternate realities in your sleep, just because you can.”

Dake shrugged, and seemed somehow pleased with himself.

“Your ‘element’ is phoney, just like mine,” Ruze frowned at the self-satisfied expression. “Fire is a chemical reaction, not a real thing like the air or the earth. Your original power lies in disregarding rules and making your own reality.” He sighed and ran his hand over his face again. He seemed tired all of the sudden. “And that’s why I have such a bad feeling about your dreams. I can’t prove that something is wrong with you. After all, you’ve been having these dreams since we were born and I didn’t feel any tears in the fabric of reality yet. It’s possible that your jumping between timelines is completely safe. But it’s not the way it’s supposed to be. You’re not supposed to recall your previous lives. You’re not supposed to know about another Neverhood where girls are plentiful and chasing skirts is normal. I’m sorry for freaking out on you, but… by mother, it just gives me such bad vibes…”

“Is that all?” Dake asked curiously. “You went this far on a feeling?”

“Sod off,” Ruze mumbled and turned away, flustered.

“And here I thought Gome was my eternal rival!” Dake laughed. “I didn’t know I should hate you in particular.”

“You shouldn’t hate him or Gome,” Usha frowned. “That’s like saying that I should hate Arig just because our elements are so different. You should work together and let your powers complement one another.”

“Hear hear,” Ruze smirked sarcastically. “There’s something about what you say, though. I noticed that not only is the Guardian of Fire the most popular one in literature. He’s also the one who brings the most disasters. Neither Gerard’s nor Nuri’s story ends well. I think Quater might have tweaked your powers a little so that another Guardian could keep you in check. Hence the Guardian of Water.”

“You think so?” Gome asked excitedly. “Then is it alright if I splash him a little from time to time?”

“I will smite you,” Dake began to hiss. Ruze waved his hand quickly to stop them both.

“You don’t splash anyone unless they’re making trouble. But, uh… the bucket was actually good thinking on your part.”

“Hee,” the Guardian of Water smiled.

***

“You won't escape, Majeer. I will find you.”

***

Dake woke up in cold sweat. He unclenched his stiff fists and kicked the blanket off. His brothers were still sleeping. His candle had gone out.

He rubbed his fingers against each other to light it again.

In the bed across the room, Ruze stirred. “Dake?” he mumbled, rising up to one elbow.

The Guardian of Fire waved for him to go back to sleep. Ruze grunted and lay back down.

Dake stared at the ceiling for a long time. He didn’t remember a thing from his dream. Not even the feeling. Was it loving? Had he been with his wife? Had he been fighting the mad shaman? Had he flirted with a pretty girl? He didn’t know. He had no way of knowing.

He closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep again.

At the threshold between waking and dreams, he thought: Adah, my love… I’m coming.