#Also writing this I realized how easy it is to make a Fate/Zero AU with this xD

[fortune-maiden]

AU meme: MDZS is now a toku and the twin jades are the starting henshin heroes.

Send me a potential AU and I’ll tell you five fun facts that would happen in a story.

TOKU AU HECK YEAH!

I admit I was sitting on this one for a while because I was trying very hard not to turn this into a Ryuki AU.

I failed.

So now it's Ryuki based with Toshiki Inoue brand identity shenanigans because I loved them in Agito, Faiz and Donbrothers :D

Ryuki is the Battle Royale one where the Riders are duking it out in order to have their wish granted. I'm going to combine this a bit with Fate/Zero where the end goal is an ultimate power, but this ultimate power is actually EVIL!

(It's the Yin Iron) (pretty sure it was also EVIL in Ryuki but I have not watched all of Ryuki)

LWJ was not supposed to be a Henshin Hero but while investigating a haunting one day because he does that, he spotted his brother and shenanigans ensued resulting in the LXC's transformation belt getting split in two and LWJ is a Hero now! ....but he and LXC are only at half the power they should be individually.

Which for ✨Reasons✨ is still pretty much on par with all of the other riders.

WWX is the favorite to win this Battle Royale. In his hero form, he is the villain to defeat and every time he and LWJ run into each other, it's a death match. In civilian form, he and LWJ actually get along great, neither one knowing the other's identity but both having strong ideals of justice. Their identities get revealed to each other about 2/3rds through and there is much angst.

(WWX also forms the classic 2 guys & a girl Rider trio with WN & WQ)

LWJ owns a motorbike and there will be romantic sunset motorbike rides. And friendship sunset motorbike rides. And angsty sunset motorbike rides.

(The bike's name is Bichen)

NHS is not a powerful hero like his brother was, but he has his guile and is determined to get the ultimate power so he could resurrect his brother. (Sorry Da-ge is dead in this verse. For ✨Reasons✨). He's friends with WWX in their civilian lives. Naturally they don't know each others identities, but he and LWJ do learn each other's identities pretty early on, and help each other out. NHS is very definitely not plotting something!

JGY is also a part of this. He and LXC know each other's identities so he figures out LWJ's identity pretty quickly. He decides not to let on that he knows, but much like LXC & LWJ he is more invested in using his powers for good than fighting other heroes. Honest!

This is as far as I got haha (JC is here somewhere too.... possibly also partaking in the identity hijinks with WWX & LWJ). Also Bonus because you mentioned this in our chat and I loved it:

WWX makes his debut in the story when JZX throws his sister's love letter off a bridge and he jumps down to get it while yelling at JZX. (LWJ witnesses this and thinks WWX is an idiot. But a respectable one!)

hmm would it be fun if the Yin Iron shards are what actually allow everyone to become Toku Heroes...

[pearl-blue-musings]

Hi!! Can I order spaghetti (msby) with mashed potatoes and green beans split between me and atsumu?

YES AHHHHH thank you for giving me my first haikyuu ask!!!! This was so much fun to write and think about!

ALSO I’M SO SORRY THIS IS SO LATE MANY MANY APOLOGIES 

A/n: I wrote this with some ideas I got from @cestcirque and her smau (which you absolutely must check out!) for this soulmate au, when you look into the eyes of your soulmate your world changes from black and whites to bursting with color. This is also post time skip so Atsumu is a wonderful black jackal

Pairing: Miya Atsumu x photographer!fem!reader

once again I got carried away what else did you expect from me

Warnings: 18+, smut, daddy calling, biting, slight edging, oral (fem receiving), fingering, vaginal penetration, relatively tame!

Enjoy your meal

~~~~~~~~

With sweat dripping down his face, Miya Atsumu was bursting with energy. It was down to the final point of the match and he was itching to win. It’s already been over a month since Hinata joined MSBY and their chemistry on the court has been proven a formidable force. First against the Adlers, and now with his former high school teammates team, EJP. His eyes are alight with a fire and desire to win. He can feel the rush of winning cloud over him as he keeps his eye on his teammates, setting the ball perfectly to the man everyone describes as an orange haired ball of sunshine in order to score the final set point. The yell of victory leaves his throat before he can process everything. His eyes scans the crowd of fans that have come to watch him, being excited but also a pang of emptiness hits him.

If only he could see the colors everyone talks about around him. 

Everything is greyscale for the man, who he’s been told has a strange yellow hue to his hair. Atsumu didn’t know what the color would look like but liked how it would be marked as different and easy to see when you get to see color. He resents the fact that his twin Osamu laughs freely at his hair color. The normal haired twin, to him, had met his soulmate in one of his business classes and demanded a facetime with his twin. Atsumu was angry at first, but on the inside was happy his brother had met his soulmate and his life bursting with color. 

Surely, he’d meet his soon right?

Atsumu is pulled from his thoughts when Bokuto wraps his arm around his shoulder to pull him into a hug and briefly chat.

“Hey hey hey! Why didn’t you set it to me at the end, huh? You can’t keep giving Hinata all the glory!”

“They were expectin’ ya. I couldn’t Bo. ‘Sides, we won that’s all that matters.”

The flash of cameras after games were very common. With different sports magazines and editors showing up to cover the game, it was something the team was used to. As per usual, a camera-person came up to him and Bokuto, completely ignoring who was taking the picture focusing on the lens. Once his eyes meet the lens, he puts on his signature smile and puts a thumbs up with his teammate for the photo op.

It had all happened so fast. 

You had been called to fill in at the last minute to take photos for the MSBY Black Jackals volleyball game. You didn’t think anything of it other than doing a favor for a friend. And this was an incredible opportunity for you, an amazing way to expand your sprouting portfolio. In this world of soulmates you live in, it was unheard of. Your pictures and photos always came out with the utmost care and perfection, despite not being able to see any of the colors to truly work the right lighting and angles. Even though touching and editing required the use of being able to see colors, somehow your eyes went beyond that and captured everything in a natural way that everyone could understand the message and point of all your photos.  

It was absolutely exquisite and breathtaking.

You had never been to a volleyball game before and you were hit with how exciting it was. The energy from the players and the fast fed into your blood as you began and continued to capture pictures of the game. It wasn’t just a regular game, it was an experience and you figured it was different for everyone. And as you felt that, you knew you wanted to capture it.

It was in moments like these you envied those around you who were able to see color. You yearned for the day you would be able to see all the colors that your peers and employers have paraded you for. Hopefully when you finally meet the one, you’ll be able to do your job even better. 

Before you knew it, the game had ended and you were doing what all the other photographers were doing by taking pictures of the tired and sweaty players as they interact with each other and their fans. You slowly walk toward the court, fixing and switching your lenses for up close pictures. You happen to place your camera right at your eye, seeing two players not looking your way yet as they were engaged in their own private conversation. Once you get their attention, you make eye contact with both before snapping the picture.

You had almost dropped your camera, lucky for the strap around your neck holding it together. You don’t even check your camera, knowing the picture came out horrible. But as you hold the black camera in your hands with your jaw slack-

Wait, black? That’s right it’s black.

And one of the two players in front of you had a matched expression on his face.

Atsumu should have asked his brother what it would be like when he meets his soulmate in order to prepare himself. He’s seriously kicking himself now as the bright white lights bounce of the beige and tan floor of the wooden court. He looks down to see his black and white jersey, the streaks of red and green on certain parts of the floor, the blues, yellows, and whites of the volleyball...

And the all encasing beauty that was you. 

Everything about you was stunning, he wasn’t sure where to look next. However his thoughts were interrupted by a boisterous yell next to him.

“Hey ‘Tsumu! Why’d you stop?”

The blond haired man turns to his friend and gives him a new look over. “Did ya know yer hair is two diff’rent colors?”

Bokuto freezes and attempts to look up at his hair and smiles widely. “Yeah! Yukie keeps it nice for me and- No way! Where are they?”

The owl like man quickly shakes his head back and forth throughout the crowd looking for his teammates soulmate is! He’s interrupted with a tap on the shoulder from the man in question.

Atsumu points to where you’re still starstruck, taking in everything around you.

“Her.”

You felt as if time had lost all meaning as the colors all around you began to come to life, being as lively and vibrant as everyone above you had described. You had zero expectations of ever meeting your soulmate, let alone at a randomly assigned job. You’re unaware of what your body is doing, but your feet are moving across the plane as you walk closer to the man who’s staring at you in a way you’d always hoped to be gazed at.

He’s taller than you thought he’d be up close, but you can smell his musk and sweat and you’re not turned off like you’d always been. The way his bright yellow hair matches his personality, from what you’ve seen, on the court makes your heart melt. It’s almost like everything about him is perfect. The way his eyes are tired but full of vitality isn’t lost on you, and he seems to see the same thing in yours. 

Atsumu for once is at a loss for words. There’s so many ways he had pictured this going but surely not like this. He opens his mouth to speak, but his eyes catch a gathering crowd. 

“Aw, shoot. There’s for sure gonna be a crowd comin’. Meet me after by the exit? I promise I’ll make it quick...”

“(Y-y/n).”

He chuckles and places one hand on his hip and the other in his hair. “Heh, cute name for a cutie like ya self. Name’s Atsumu. Wait for me will ya?”

You merely nod and watch him smirk at you before he meets up with his teammates to celebrate their win. You’re left standing there trying to process what just happened as he turns around one more time to wink at you. If you could melt, you would. You gather your yourself, pick up your camera and try to stealthily avoid any reporters and the like. Since this was your first volleyball match, you had no idea the power just being in the presence of Miya Atsumu held.

Fan girls and other photographers began to swarm you as you attempted to blend in the crowd. All these women had beautiful hair, beautiful complexions; you couldn’t wait to start taking photos in color. Not the right thought to have as you’re getting bombarded but what can you do?

Luckily you’re swept away by another photographer who saw your pain and helped you out. You thanked her and followed her to where the media had access. She wished you luck as she led you to where Atsumu wanted you to meet him.

About 30 minutes later, he comes out with a few of his teammates, laughing gleefully and somehow that made your heart flutter. How did you get paired up with a man like this? The soulmate gods must have really been looking out for you.

Once his beautiful deep eyes meet yours, his gaze softens as he walks toward you. His teammates tell him goodbye and that they’ll message him later. As he approaches you, he has to pinch himself to realize that this is real and it’s happening to him.

He speaks up first again, eager to hear your voice again. “Hiya.”

You giggle at his intro. To him, it sounded like heaven opened up and the angels were singing all around him. He gets to have this laugh to himself? Call himself blessed. 

“I never thought I’d actually meet ma soulmate. And yet, here ya are.”

He extends his hand out to you and you take it, noticing how warm and calloused it is against yours. There’s no way life could be this perfect. You rub your thumb on the back of his palm and stare into his eyes.

“Here we are.”

************

You’d think you’d be used to hosting events for his teammates at your shared place after almost a couple years of being together. but something always surprises you. This time, it turned out fate was working in mysterious ways today. On the way to your place, Hinata had met his soulmate and brought them to the gathering! Needless to say they were overwhelmed but in a good way. Sakusa was slightly concerned over the presence of someone new whom he didn’t know very well, but tolerated it for his friend’s happiness.

You’ve just finished washing the dishes as Atsumu dries whatever is left. You wipe your brow and sigh heavily. Your boyfriend looks over to you and smirks. 

“Whatcha thinkin’ bout baby?”

You smirk at him before leaning your head on his shoulder, “just, life I guess.”

The young man sighs contentedly, places the dried dishes in the rack, and kisses your forehead. “Care to elaborate? Or am I gonna have to tickle the info outta ya?”

You hear the smirk in his tone as he wraps his arms around your waist, pinching and tickling your sides. Your laugh bubbles in the air as you squeal and squirm against Atsumu’s grip. His tout body keeps you against him, holding you tight so you can’t escape his embrace. “’Tsumu! I give, I give!”

“Nuh uh babycakes,” he growls in your ear, “I’m not done with ya.”

You laugh harder as you feel him lift you off the ground, turn you around, and sit you on the counter. With his hands firmly on your waist, he surprises you with a small yet passionate kiss on the lips. Your hands fall onto his neck and face to pull him closer to you. 

You pull away and notice him bite his lip. “What was that for?” You don’t miss the way his eyes glaze over as you question him. 

“I just love ya so much. I never thought life would be s’ fulfilling once I got some color into it. Thought it was all mumbo jumbo, whatever.” He places his body in between your legs, letting your breaths intermingle. “Ya love my team, my friends, my family, and most importantly,” he trails off brushing your noses together. 

“Ya love me.” 

“You’re such a sap.”

“Hah?! But that’s why ya love me, right?”

You keep teasing him as you continue to touch along his broad shoulders. “Nah, I’m mostly in it for the money.” You peck his nose and grin at his pouting features.

“Aw c’mon (Y/n)! Yer making almost as much as me with all yer photos,” he argues back, missing your teasing tone. You can’t help but laugh at the pout your soulmate is giving you. It’s almost too easy to fake argue with him to get him riled up. 

You lay your head on his shoulder and can’t hold back your laughs. “Baby,” you coo, “you know I’m teasing you right?”

Since you can’t see his face, you don’t see the ever growing smirk as he nods into you. The blond tightens his grip on your hips, pulling you into his crotch so your neck is free for him to attack with his lips. He starts to kiss and suck lightly on your open neck, catching you off guard.

“Oh I know baby,” he lightly grinds his clothed erection against you, “I was just messin’ with ya.”

You lift your head in fake anger, but it dissolves when the lust in his eyes matches yours. He steals your lips before you could protest or bite back a response. The burning desire within you begins to rise as you feel his cock against your core, causing you to moan lowly into his mouth. 

“Mmm, feel my cock baby? Feels good, yeah? Been wantin to touch ya all evenin’.” He then brings your legs to wrap around his waist and continues to kiss you seductively. You feel his tongue swipe at your bottom lip before entering your mouth. His deep groan into went straight to your core and you move your hips into him. Atsumu lifts an eyebrow before pulling away, loving the connection of saliva between your lips. 

“I can already feel how wet ya are fer me, baby. Ya really want daddy that bad, huh?”

You can’t help but shiver at his voice when he says daddy to you and wiggle your hips, knowing what you’re in for. A whine leaves your lips as you pull him into your chest to feel him against you and so you can whisper in his ear how much you want him, your daddy.

Atsumu bites his lip and rolls his hips into yours at hearing and feeling your breath on his ear. He then promptly lifts you up, rest thing his lips to yours as his hands grope and fondle your ass. You can’t help but shift around as he carries you to your shared bedroom, seeking friction in any capacity. Atsumu chuckles darkly feeling you struggle against him, breaking the kiss to suck on your neck. If there was something he loved more than volleyball or you, it was leaving marks and traces of him all over you. Satisfied with the mark he left he growls out,

“I can’t wait to fuckin’ destroy you, princess.”

With that, you’re dropped onto the bed, awaiting orders from your love. His whole aura switched from teasing and playful in the kitchen to a sexual dom and you were living for it. 

“Take off yer shirt off, I wanna see all of ya.”

You lick your lips and nod, slowly removing your shirt and making a show of it. You don’t miss the way he bites his lip and whispers out a low “fuck” as you undress. You leave your bra on knowing that’s one of Atsumu’s favorite things to take off of you. You place your hands on the hem of your leggings and look to him, as if to ask him if it’s okay. He nods and you slowly remove them from your body, leaving you in your bra and thong ready for him on the bed.

The tall blond stalks toward the bed and situates himself in-between your legs. He brings his lips to your inner thigh, his brown eyes on you to watch for your reactions. His lips trail up the sensitive skin, kissing and biting as he gets closer to your awaiting heat. But he doesn’t give you what you want, not yet. He hears you whine as he moves to your other thigh and repeats the same actions. He can feel the heat your pussy is emanating, already seeing your juices leak out.

You whimper out, “fuck, please just do it!”

He sniffs, enjoying your smell as he slowly pushes your thong to the side. “Please what baby? Ya gotta use yer words.”

You hips roll as his fingertips graze over where you want him the most. You hate his teasing nature, but you love the reward you get after. “P-please just put your tongue in me!”

Atsumu snickers before enticingly putting his tongue into your slit, making you gasp out and grab at his hair. He hums happily as he laps at you greedily. His tongue swirls inside of you in the best way. Your hips move off the mattress as your voice lets curses and whines escape. 

“Nuh uh baby girl. Ya gotta stay still fer daddy.” At that you feel a weight on your pelvis, realizing its his arm to hold you steady. With you unable to move, the need for release bubbles faster. Your breathing gets deeper and your voice rises an octave. Atsumu was always a king with his tongue, and for some reason tonight he was pulling out all the stops. Once you think you can catch your breath, he sucks hard on your clit and inserts a finger into you.

“Haah, fuck daddy!”

He laughs into your cunt and you moan at the vibrations. His tongue directly on your clit is making you see stars. He slyly inserts a second finger, already feeling you clench and tighten around him. That won’t do. He can’t have you cumming on just his fingers, but he does need to prep you. Before putting a third finger in, he sucks on your swollen nub to have you screaming in pleasure. His fingers scissor and stretch you out and it takes everything in him to not add a fourth. He knows you two haven’t discussed it so he knew to table it for another time.

“Shit, I’m gonna, I’m gonna cum. Please daddy can I cum?”

That makes him take his eyes off his fingers and to look at you directly and ceases his actions. He slowly pulls his fingers out of you and crawls on top of you. “Suck,” he commands and you do as you’re told. You’re a little miffed at not being able to cum as your pussy clenches at nothing while you suck his fingers. You know you’re doing a good job when you hear him groan and lose eye contact with you. You get into the valleys of his fingers and he moans, “yeah ya like daddy’s fingers? I know ya do. Now kiss me.”

He tilts your head up and you meet his lips in a sloppy kiss, tasting yourself again but on his lips. You feel him align his warm dick with your slick entrance and whine into the kiss. You break away from the kiss to tap his shoulder. 

“Wait ‘Tsumu,” you pant, “condom?”

He stops everything before frantically reaching for the nightstand. Atsumu knows he can get carried away when he’s in the moment, so he knows that when he gets tapped on the shoulder he’s forgotten something or needs to slow down. 

“Ah sorry, baby.” His voice sinks as he sucks his teeth feeling the rubber cover his dick. “Are we okay ta keep goin’?” 

You smile and nod at him, placing your hands on his chest in reassurance. He meets your smile and kisses your lips softly. “You ready ta take daddy’s hard cock?”

“Fuck,” you moan, “just fuck me already-Ah!”

He didn’t need anymore goading as he slides himself inside you. Your walls tighten around him and he has to control himself from wanting to pound into you. He waits for you to adjust to him before he pulls out almost all the way before your hips meet again.

“Ya feel so good, princess. Ya like the way daddy fucks ya?”

You nod aimlessly. “Yes! Please, I want more!”

His smile is evil as he grabs one of your legs and hoists it on his shoulder. “Be careful what ya wish fer,” he growls before snapping his hips forward. The two of you whine and moan together, unable to hear the sound of your juices and his hips squelching. “Aw fuck, baby ya feel too good.” He’s got one hand on your leg to hold it against his chest and the other rests lazily on your hip. He continues to fuck you into the mattress, your hands holding onto the head board behind you. Atsumu catches this and is displeased. He abruptly stops and places your leg down and around his waist, doing the same to your other leg, You look at him confused, “why, what are you doing?”

“I didn’t like the way you were grabbin’ the headboard, so you’re gonna grab onta me.”

With that he keeps pounding into you, now with your arms around his back. He’s never admitted it, but he loves the way you scratch and grip at his back when you two have sex. It drives him wild. “That’s it, baby. Hold on ta daddy as he fucks ya.”

Your garble out something as you hold him harder, realizing a free hand had escaped your upper body and has snaked its way to your clit. He begins to rub small and fast circles on the swollen nub, grinning at your reactions. He’s never sure which part he loves best: the way your voice gets incredibly lewd or how tight you get around him. This time he thinks it’s both. He continues to rub at your clit vigorously while pounding you all the same.

Sweat clings to each of your bodies as the rush of release is evident. Your eyebrows are scrunched tightly as you feel your orgasm coming. With a shaky breath you whimper, “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum. Please lemme cum daddy. I’ve been so good!” 

His hips rut into you as he chases his own release. “Yeah ya have. Been such a good girl fer me. Fuck baby ya feel amazin’! I’m gonna cum so hard. Cum with me baby girl.” His body moves faster the closer he gets to climax. Your legs are shaking and your toes curled as you feel the coil within you come undone.

You scream out, “I’m cumming baby, I’m cum-ah fuck!”

You tighten around him, causing him to curse and whine as he loses his rhythm. “Shit baby girl, I hnng,” he feels the condom fill with his seed as he humps the both of you through your orgasms. His grip on you loosens as he comes down from his high, rubbing them with comfort. He stays on top of you but not pressing down into you. The afterglow the two of you bask in is always something he looks forward to. His breathing returns to normal after a couple minutes of the two of you just laying with each other. 

“Fuck ‘Tsumu,” you croak out, “that was s-so good. Could you pull out?”

Atsumu lazily nods and slowly pulls out of you, not wanting to cause you any pain. Once he’s out, he gets off the bed and takes off the condom, tying it up and placing it in the trash can. He returns to the bed to place a kiss on your forehead before whispering, “You were so good ta me. Lemme grab us some water and towels, yeah? Do ya want a shower or a bath?”

You groan and roll to your side. “Some water.”

“Baby, I know, but a bath or shower?”

“I can barely move, Atsumu, what do you think?”

He chuckles before leaving the room and announcing, “I’ll get tha bath started.” He’s gone for a few minutes, but returns with two water bottles and a towel as you hear the bathtub being filled with water. He sits down next to you and places the bottles down. He opens one and hands it to you. You thank him and drink down about half of the bottle. He drinks from his own and uses his empty hand to trace the curve of your face. 

“Hey (Y/n)”

You lift your eyebrow at him, giving him your attention.

“Ya know I love ya, right?”

You hum and nod, sitting up to wrap your arms around his shoulders and give his cheek a kiss. “I love you so much, Atsumu. No one is gonna break our bond okay? We’re soulmates.”

He takes one of your hands into his gently, leaning into your touch. “I know I’m not here a lot cause of volleyball. But I do love ya. Yer my baby girl.”

You chuckle lightly and kiss his cheek again. “Sap.”

“Ya know ya love it. Now let’s go take a bath, yeah?”

~~~~~~~~

The diner is closed

[hmgfanfic]

Talk about all the Fillory worldbuilding in LQoF, please :)

THIS IS INEXCUSABLY LATE. I’m so sorry!

And I wish I could say it was just my scatterbrainedness, which is definitely a constant factor, but it was also that when you sent this, I was deeeeeeeep into writing the final few chapters of Little Quirks of Fate and I was kind of... in my head about it. It took a lot longer to finish than I had planned (a cardinal sin to my particular combo of severe ADHD and Type-A personality) and I was spending excessive amounts of time making sure I figured out a satisfying ending by my own exacting standards, so I just didn’t have the headspace to think through my early process yet. Very sorry about that :( But now that I’m finally done, I’m excited to look back! So if you’ll indulge me a very late answer, I’d be tickled. 💗

Long ramblings and major fic spoilers under the cut.

The truth is a lot the world building came down to character stuff foremost, followed closely by my preferences as a writer. I adapted the world to the story I wanted to tell, while using the little bits of information we’re given in canon as a baseline, rather than building the story around the world. And that was a lot more fulfilling for me, since I only really love worldbuilding through the lens of character, rather than as an exercise unto itself (though it’s super fun once you get rolling.)

To explain what I mean by that, you need to know that Little Quirks of Fate was originally going to be a oneshot. My plan was about 25-30k (lol) of a pure S2 retelling, only with Quentin in the role of Fen. It was also going to take a much more traditional enemies-to-lovers’ path—with Quentin as an active member of the FU Fighters—and the whole thing was going to be in his POV. Also, they weren’t even going to kiss until after the bank heist (which, yes, was going to be a thing here), but that got abandoned the fastest in favor of trying my hand at smut. But two things made me realize I needed to significantly shift course:

1) I was struggling to make Quentin actually feel like Quentin. I wrote this very atmospheric early scene at the FU Fighters encampment, with lots of description of the bonfires and the way their shirts dyed in Fillorian red looked like blood (you get it.) It took place in the black of night, shrouded in secrecy, and when Bayler questioned Quentin about his new husband, Quentin said something like, “He’s a drunk idiot, we have the advantage.” It was all very lush and dramatic, but it really, really, really didn’t feel like Q in any recognizable way to me. Now, I’m not someone who thinks Q needs to be a precious sweetheart all the time, but what I was writing didn’t have his idiosyncrasies or a motivation that felt true to who I feel he is.

2) The draft was DEFINITELY missing Eliot’s story and his perspective. I certainly don’t think Eliot’s POV is always necessary (sometimes not having his direct thoughts heightens tension in romance especially), but it felt really necessary here, to fill in the gaps of what Quentin was assuming and also—more importantly—because the events were just as impactful on him, but in a very different way. So I knew I was missing half the narrative, but that meant I would need to deal more explicitly with the Beast (i.e., Mike, the most devastating storyline to me, personally) and I really, really didn’t want to do that.

My first step in making a more recognizable Quentin was figuring out a way he could more or less use the same syntax that he does on the show. Voice is the first way I connect with a character, so while many writers in this fandom thrive at modifying speech patterns and keeping the heart of a character alive, keeping close to Quentin’s canon speech was an easy fix for me in a story I was excited to get rolling. Sort of like the old adage of uplifting your strengths before putting outsize energy into things you struggle with.

The easiest way I could think to give him the same syntax was to figure out a way Quentin spent some significant time on Earth during his formative years. And once I rewatched 2x06 and was reminded that Ess went to Phillips Exeter Academy for high school, I lost my damn mind. I started sketching out ways that Quentin could get there too and that’s how I built out the idea of Umber brokering a marriage deal with the actual landmass of Coldwater Cove, which included an education opportunity for the boys (in a nod to Fillory’s patriarchal nature), and also the reason why Umber did that, which was to take advantage of his brother’s orgy mistake with the first Children of Earth to usher in a more productive and orderly Fillory. So that created a whole new set of rules and essentially a whole new world for me to play with... all for the sake of Quentin getting to say “fuck.” It was that important to me. :p

And as I worked through all that, I realized I also wanted to give Q magic, since Quentin’s relationship with magic is something I’m interested in. But I had read on ye olde Tumblr that the reason Illario uses a wand in 2x06 is a nod to the books, where Fillorians specifically aren’t Magicians and that’s the rationale for the Children of Earth royalty. And while I generally see the books as interesting supplemental material with zero bearing on the television show canon, I still said to myself, “Self, wouldn’t it be kind of funny if Quentin was the only native born Fillorian who had magic and so the FU Fighters believe he’s the chosen true High King, but instead of it being because he’s ~special~, it’s because Umber made a clerical error? Lol! Hilarious!”

So while all my questions for how to explain all THAT spun out into more and more detail, at the same time...

I caved to the idea that this story was going to be a No Beast AU, just like my last two stories, mostly because I really couldn’t bring myself to deal with the Mike of it all, even tangentially. I could have just changed that single element, but I’m not a half-measure gal! But I still wanted to stick with the vague background theme of Fillory = adulthood from a questing perspective and I wanted Julia leading the charge this time, but without the sexual assault that occurs in canon. So obviously, the answer was avenging all of the murdered and cannibalized “grown-ups,” i.e., master Magicians, by seeking out help from the gods in a balanced Fillory free from the devastation of the Beast. Duh! ;)

So then, like anyone would do, I rewatched every episode up to 4x11 that makes a mention of Fillory and took about twenty pages of notes on the canon worldbuilding, along with an analysis of how much a particular piece of information would be impacted or not by balance in the realm. For instance, the existence of geraniums (per The Fillorian Candidate and Tick’s misunderstanding of “power plants”) and the lack of diamonds as a precious stone (per the River Watcher not knowing the value of Margo’s earrings in Knight of Crowns) struck me as static facts unaffected by Ember’s reign of chaos. But I shifted the overall feel of Fillory to one that’s more functional and a lot more bureaucratic, leaning on things like the existence of socialized health/vision/dental insurance (the idea of which is canonical, per a petition from the beavers requesting dental coverage from acting High King Josh in Ramifications), strict taxation plans, and an overall sense of thriving Ceremony to show Umber’s influence.

Basically, I wanted Eliot to inherit a much, much easier Fillory to rule—especially with the highly educated Quentin as a built-in and passionate advisor—mostly so it wouldn’t completely strain credulity when a lot of his energy goes toward his love life rather than the intricacies of ruling (though Margo would say he still favored his personal life more than he should have, and she wasn’t... wrong. He wants to be a husband more than a king!) But I specifically made it so most of the chaotic elements were played as whimsical (sorry) quirky shit or smaller hints of greater injustice (see: Ember getting rid of STDs, but still letting magic-poor citizens die of sepsis because that’s too boring to deal with), all while a cataclysmic danger lurked under the surface.

After that, I just filled in details as they worked with character stuff and plot stuff, and I tried to make sure they didn’t contradict each other in a way that couldn’t be chalked up to “chaos.” I basically lived with the Fillory map open all the time and also took screenshots of Benedict’s map of Loria, which gave me alternate ideas for the overall feel of the landmass rather than just the kingdom. And pretty much that’s the basic process I used to create the world! It was extremely fun, and I learned a lot, though I’m *definitely* focusing on some pure relationship kind of stuff for a while because... oof, sometimes it was a lot.

Annnnnnnd if you’re still with me, here’s some stray observations, for funsies:

I wanted Quentin and Eliot’s starting points to be more mature than in the show. Quentin when we’re introduced to him as an adult in LQoF is a lot more jaded and cautious than S1 Q, which is because in this world, his S1 mentality happened while he was on Earth and came to a head during the throes of his fucked up relationship with Bayler. Similarly, Eliot had already gone through a lot of shit too, and was much more self-actualized by the time he agreed to be High King here than in the show. It was still out of desperation for purpose, but not coming out of a direct trauma spiral. I think if they had been younger, both in age and mentality, the story wouldn’t have worked because they would’ve blown it up day two. They’re both still disasters, as we like to say, which is why the... everything happens, but they’re not disasters in the exact same way as in early canon. I thought of them as closer to their S3 selves, pre-Mosaic.

While I mostly kept Quentin’s syntax the same as on the show, I did change it up in some ways to reflect his Fillorian upbringing. The most obvious was replacing “goddamn” with “godsdamned” and “Jesus” with “Hades,” but I also made him slow on the Earth idiomatic uptake and slightly more likely to use passive voice and less likely to use contractions, especially early on and especially when speaking with Fen. He also said slightly out of date things even for someone who last remembered 1999, since Earth was still overwhelming despite his immersion. E.g.: In the epilogue, he asks Eliot if he can spend some time “Googling the World Wide Web” instead of watching Gossip Girl together, even though by 1999 most people were saying “on-line” or “the internet” by a pretty wide margin. But in my mind, the first term he learned was World Wide Web and he stuck to it like glue.

I originally had a full-blown coronation scene, where Quentin helped Eliot with the answers to the 90s questions via subtle charades, such as flapping his hands at his sides to give him the answer “Wings” (and Eliot was eventually going to Eliot-Logically use that moment to argue to Quentin that maybe Q really is the true High King since he was the one who actually answered the Knight’s questions, etc.), but I cut it and only showed bits and pieces in flashbacks because it didn’t really matter. They had to treat it seriously because it was An Event in this version of balanced/un-Beasted Fillory, with a full audience bearing witness, but the whole thrust of the external plot was about dismantling that moment and the concept of monarchy in general, so giving it too much weight outside of the Eliot and Julia friendship felt disingenuous to the story I was telling.

This is also why it was important to me that Margo hated the title High King Eliot the Kind, even though I only brought it up textually once or twice. But in my view, she fucking hated it and never came around to it. Which isn’t because she doesn’t think Eliot is kind, it’s that it felt like a simplification of all that he is, and the coronation ceremony in general felt similarly shallow. It wasn’t just the four of them working out their shit on the beach; it was true ceremony after a year of questing toil and a lot lingering uncertainty/resentments (especially regarding Julia), so it was too Big Shiny Happy Bow to her.

Yet on the same theme, my greatest regret was not being able to work in the fact that Margo’s title for Penny (King Penny the Persistent) was supposed to be half-sincere and half-sex joke. She did genuinely admire that he stuck it out even through his initial heartbreak because he gives a shit about his people underneath it all, but—and this is a very important headcanon to me—she admired his dedication to the art of the female orgasm even more.

I was originally also going to include the One Day More sequence with way more details—such as Umber taking the Javert lines, Ember taking the Thenardier lines, Bayler taking the Enjolras lines, and Penny taking the Marius lines, but... uh... writing a musical number is apparently not in my skill set. Also, honestly, the weirdness of the original is its whole charm and so I didn’t want to improve upon perfection. See also, in a more serious way: Eliot bowing to High King Margo on the Muntjac, the events of Plan B, and Quentin & Penny in the Flying Forest. Would not touch it!

My favorite Fillorian detail was either the guy who sent a citizen petition requesting a “smidgen” of Eliot’s earwax for an undisclosed purpose, or the use of the verb “to peg” to describe a Pegasus flock greeting an outsider with honor. They encapsulate the obscene yet pristine feel I always tried to give Fillory.

My favorite subtle(-ish?) ironic moment is Ess, the heir to a hereditary monarchy, taking Quentin to task for not honoring the anarchy patch on his high school backpack. In general, I don’t like everything being neatly resolved, including on an overarching world level. And I very strongly felt they had ZERO business meddling in Loria, so it left some fun-to-me unanswered questions. Will Ess usher in democracy for Loria based on his experiences on Earth? Maybe! Maybe not, since tradition’s a hell of a drug and Loria has its own history and complexities. Who knows?

I misread the town name Sutton as Sultan on the map the first time I referenced Bayler’s hometown (Sultan’s Ridge), but instead of going back to fix it, I just made it a sister town. Whatever!

I do not know how Quentin got a full bookshelf of Earth literature back to Fillory with him. Magic, I guess. (That’s the answer to anything I didn’t totally think through.)

I occasionally get asked whether Quentin and Fen were physically related. The answer is no, though it doesn’t totally matter. But I intended heart-cousins to be more like close family friends. (Though I actually originally had a joke where Eliot still wasn’t sure by the epilogue, but it didn’t land/feel realistic so I cut it.)

The details of the magic frequency poisoning were DEFINITELY what I thought through the least. My main goal was to have something catastrophic happen to Fillory based in part from the historical actions of the Children of Earth and Ember, patently ridiculously but with lasting consequences. Hence, god orgy that took away Fillorian human magic and sent out a slow poisoning of the overall magic “frequency.” It sounds all well and good, but it’s definitely something that would fall apart with even the lightest bit of prodding. It serves it’s purpose though, so I figured the gaps could be filled in or politely ignored. ;)

This question was way too much fun and a helpful retrospective for me! Thank you so much for indulging me, many moons ago. 💗

[dazais-guardian-angel]

This post has been sitting in my drafts since like mid-November around when I finished replaying the game, long enough for me to write and upload a fic about some of the concepts I wrote here, what the fuck. DGS brainrot is real. But aNYWAY finally, here are my massive thoughts on Unwound Future, the golden child of the PL series. This is literally *checks* 8k words, because I can never shut up!! and because there is just SO much going on in this game at all times, so many different interweaving plot threads and funny moments and incredible, fascinating characterization, especially combined with the games that come after it; I just had SO much to say. So much analyzing and headcanons and crying galore. :’) There’s a reason this is considered the best game, and that’s why I had so damn much to talk about.

behold the incoherent, rambling, unconnected mess of a novel that I hope makes a modicum of sense under the cut:

Continuing the trend, this game has simply AMAZING graphics/art/music, with a huge uptick in cutscenes and voice acting, and I feel like the sound/music quality is greatly improved too? I love the main bgm for London in this game, never really remembered loving it before, but it’s just *chef’s kiss* and so is the song that plays in other areas like the hospital and subway

Quickly mentioning the gameplay, I really love all the minigames, and the storybooks are especially hilarious to play with putting the wrong things in the spaces to create mad libs-esque crack that makes no sense; it’s so fun lmao

The beginning flashback segment with the time machine demonstration is honestly just so funny, for so many different reasons: Dimitri droning on and on with time travel technobabble while Luke, Bill, Chelmey, and Barton represent the definitive last four brain cells. Hershel being skeptical about successful time travel after all the magical shit they went through just like a year or two ago. The way that Bill’s sprite slowly and nervously shuffles onscreen after Dimitri calls him to the stage, like omg I don’t know why that cracks me up so much but it does. Dimitri’s lowkey savage shade he’s throwing at Bill throughout this whole thing. The way Bill says “wHAT” when Dimitri asks him to help, clearly about to shit his pants. Dimitri just standing there completely unfazed as the smoke from the machine flies past him. And of course, “sOmEtHiNg’S gOnE vErY wRoNg!”

…okay but in all seriousness, am I just stupid or do they never explain how they get Bill to the underground city, like the machine CLEARLY explodes with him in it, there was no secret elevator built into the thing like at the clock shop, so…???

also the presenter’s voice is really funny lmao

Still disagree that this is the biggest mystery they’ve ever encountered, despite being near the top; Luke you say that literally every game!! so what is the truth!!

Spring’s face is terrifying as FUCK in the two cutscenes in the clock shop… why they decided to show both of them in ominous, shadowed lighting in those scenes I do not understand a;lskdl;fds

I need someone to draw a diagram of how exactly the shop looks as a giant elevator because frankly I still can’t wrap my brain around it-

THE FACT THAT WE NEVER GET TO MAKE UP WITH HAZEL IS A TRAVESTY, HONESTLY

Belle… why…… ugh

Wish they’d had “Schrader” drop a casual nod to the events of Diabolical Box; it would have been cool :’) (especially since this is Paul so he’d know about all that)

College-age Hershel is just….. the pinnacle of adorableness. someone protect him from all the pain

One of the few flaws/plot holes in the story of Unwound Future that I only noticed during this replay with more media under my belt, is the that the developers didn’t really decide on what kind of time travel they wanted to portray, or more likely just didn’t scrutinize Clive’s fake role enough when writing it. This is blatantly obvious upon the very first meeting with Clive where he desires to test Hershel to make sure he’s really him. Obviously in a closed loop scenario, everything Luke and Hershel are doing “Future Luke” should remember doing himself in his past, so a test would not be necessary; this is a major trip-up on his part that it’s very odd Hershel doesn’t notice for how smart he is, imo. However, later on when meeting “Future Layton”, Paul calls Dimitri out on this exact principle, proving that he’s not actually Future Layton because he doesn’t remember the absence of a pen in Hershel’s pocket in this moment in his past, and it’s a nice little touch that Paul, on the other hand, an actual scientist, would mention this. Back to Future Luke, though, he should know how everything goes down with stopping Future Layton, because he lived it all as a child with Hershel, which makes it even more dubious to the fact that after seeing all this, Hershel still goes dark and everything plays out the exact same way it’s portrayed in the “future” of the game; it’s the idea that destined fate can’t be changed, but the suspension of disbelief is quite high, especially since we already doubt that Hershel would ever do such a thing, knowing what kind of person he is. Of course this wouldn’t be the case in an open-loop/branching timelines universe, but since the game uses the former type with the pen argument (and something else important I’ll mention in a second), I feel like the rest of the game should have adopted this idea as well and addressed it. Because Dimitri is outed via the fact that he should have memory of things he doesn’t, so it would have been easy to simply add Hershel adding that argument into his final explanation in the bar (”my suspicions were first raised when we first met Big Luke, and he didn’t know if I was really who I said I was- [etc etc]”). Even if they didn’t want Hershel to bring this up early else the entire story would fall apart, they could simply draw attention to the fact that he notices something in these moments, like with a “...” or “Hmm”, and then he explains it at the end like I said. Interestingly enough, Clive actually addresses these concepts at one point in the game with Luke in the statue plaza: he doesn’t want to tell Luke how things play out in his future, so that… things play out the way they’re supposed to…? Even though his entire story here is that he wished Hershel hadn’t gone dark and distanced from him, and ruined the city? But then he makes the suggestion that they could instead be operating on an open-loop/multiple timelines system, where in his past he never travelled to the future, but in our Luke and Hershel’s timeline they do. This is only a hypothetical he gives though, with him seeming unsure of how things truly are, which… again, in this story he’s concocted, he should know for sure, because if he doesn’t “remember” time traveling and how everything went down, then they’re operating on different timelines and it shouldn’t matter how much he tells Luke about his future. You can definitely argue that in-universe Clive didn’t think all this through when planning his dialogue for this role (but I honestly find that hard to believe, since he’s so intelligent, and he nailed the realism of everything else to a T), but it’s obvious just that the writers didn’t think it through, because like I said Hershel really should have picked up on his blunder when they first met, as well as later when Clive is surprised to see Flora suddenly with them and didn’t know for a fact that she and Chelmey/Barton would arrive there. Since the time travel scenario in 99% of the game isn’t actually real, I don’t entirely fault the writers for not getting every single detail right… and yet, that 1% exists where time travel is real, with Claire’s situation. It’s a very isolated incident though that wouldn’t be replicated, with only her going to the future… and yet, she does return to the past again, if only for a split second before dying and thus not enough time to do anything with her future knowledge, the real thing to note here being that they took care to show that she was wearing the same outfit when she died that she gets in the future, one she wasn’t wearing when she entered the lab originally. So they DID think about some things very well, like such a minor and easily-overlooked detail here (but that blows your mind once you realize it). All this is hardly enough to ruin the game or break the immersion completely though, especially since the player is already predisposed to heavily doubt everything with PL’s “the town is a lie” track record lmao, but I can’t help but be bothered by it now after playing games like Zero Escape and watching time travel shows like netflix’s Dark, which have bootstrap parodoxes and timeloops galore looool. My friend who watched me play the game blind this time around brought up all these questions as Clive said things, as someone who didn’t know if it would end up being real or not, and so I spent a lot of time puzzling (har har) it out with her… even though it wouldn’t matter lmao.

……In short, if it wasn’t obvious, despite Unwound Future’s time travel setup being completely fake, I’m really fascinated by the notion of how it would all work if it was real. >.> …and I mean, I know I’m not the first one; monocle Layton aus are popular, after all, but I don’t really care quite as much about the allure of an “evil Layton” as I do just about how everything else would be, I think.

Because, like, lets be real? taking the prequels into account with Unwound Future’s proposed setup, the potential is endless. It honestly KILLS me that the prequels didn’t exist yet at the time of UF, because!! so many people from Hershel’s past!!! SO MANY REASONS FOR HIM TO WANT TO HARNASS TIME TRAVEL AND CHANGE THE PAST, NOT JUST FOR CLAIRE’S SAKE. FOR RANHENGELA’S SAKE. FOR LUKE AND EMMY’S SAKE. FOR HIS PARENTS’ SAKE. FOR DESMOND. listen, listen, you don’t understand how much the idea of Desmond being involved in UF’s concepts destroys me. I wrote about this in my last fic but. imagine if Desmond learned about Hershel going down a dark path for his sake and everyone else’s, just like he did. Or imagine if, instead of Hershel being the one to do it, it was Desmond himself; he’s willing to play the bad guy once again, one very final, this time definitely final, time, if it means he can undo everything that caused all of them so much pain in the first place: his betrayals, the death of his former wife, he and Theodore’s separation, their father’s betrayal, ALL of it, and Hershel would never know. When Luke first is like��“oh it’s gotta be Don Paolo right” and Clive says no, i LITERALLY screamed “BUT IT COULD BE DESCOLE!!”. JUST. PAIN. And where would Randall be in this future; what would he, too, think if it was Hershel going after time travel? Imagine him trying to smack some sense into him just like Hershel does in MM, trying to tell him that despite those lost 18 years of his life, despite everything wrong he ended up doing, he’s still happy, and so are Henry and Angela. So is Desmond. And Emmy, she wouldn’t want undone those years she had with Hershel and Luke and then Aurora and Desmond, despite how sadly it ended. Just… so much pain. So much potential. I hurt :’)

and adding on to this, i love love LOVE the idea of Clive knowing about some of this stuff in Hershel’s past, in order to faithfully play his role as Future Luke. Like obviously he wasn’t in Misthallory with them all, he wasn’t on the island in ED, he wasn’t at Monte’dor, and he wasn’t on the Bostonius or at all those Azran ruins that I can’t remember the names of right now, of course he wouldn’t know the intimate, specific details of what all went down, but if there was just one npc who was in the right place at the right time at any of these locations, who knows what beans they could spill? Maybe even an ex-Targent person or something. Hell, fucking Bronev is in jail for at least a little while before the events of UF. There are possibly MANY people Clive could have gotten information from to pull off this role - he’s a reporter, he’s skilled at digging for stuff. Not to mention just reading and hearing about large incidents in the news. And this makes his character so much better because he’s admired Hershel for so long, grateful that he saved his life all this time, to the point that he asks him to unknowingly come and save him again… and he most definitely didn’t know back when he first encountered Hershel that he’d already experienced so much loss and pain as well (some of which Hershel hadn’t even gone through yet by that point), but learning about everything he’s suffered? I think it would really affect him, and possibly contribute to why he asks him for his help in the first place in UF: because Hershel has suffered just as much as he has, and he feels a connection to him, feels like he can relate to him, and wants someone who can empathize with him, and show him how to cope. All of these reasons and emotions would probably be completely on an unconscious level, but they would exist - he’d use this limited but meaningful knowledge to try to connect with Hershel more when he’s still in Future Luke mode, to try to convince him he’s really Luke, at first, but unconsciously it’d be an effort to get closer to him emotionally, which is what he truly desires deep down, until his so-called act somewhat stops being an act, and talking about these things makes his vulnerabilities start to show (again, i wrote a fic about this). This all just adds to why Hershel is the perfect person to help and support Clive - the prequels make their similarities even stronger, more than just with Hershel losing Claire, and those accidental parallels when the writers hadn’t even conceived the prequel trilogy at the time of UF are just *chef’s kiss* beautiful.

THE CASINO SCENE IS JUST ICONIC, IT’S SO FUNNY. LUKE BEING SCARED OF THE SHOOTING AND HERSHEL JUST DITCHING HIM. CLIVE’S LITTLE HOP AND ROLL BEHIND THE SLOT MACHINES. THE SLOT MACHINE GUN IN GENERAL. THE CLONE FAMILY MEMBERS FALLING OVER LIKE DOMINOS UPON BEING HIT. BOSTRO CRYING AND SPLINTERS AND LOCKJAW RUNNING IN CIRCLES PANICKING WHILE LAYMAN JUST IS LITERALLY PUSHED BACK SLOWLY WITH ONLY A CHAIR TO DEFEND HIMSELF, I CANNOT STRESS ENOUGH HOW FUNNY LAYMAN AS A CHARACTER IS TO ME. it’s just so glorious, oh my god. this series is ridiculous i love it so much lmao

Luke wanting to use the time machine though… there are so many reasons why he might want to, mainly from Azran Legacy. :’)

The statue is the worst thing ever for multiple reasons. The fact that it represents Hershel & Luke’s relationship, the two main characters, who have been through so much together and have such a strong bond that can never be broken, and how it ties into the whole Evil Layton scenario and seems to foreshadow that their bond does end up breaking, as “Future Luke” seems to be proof of (though the game doesn’t really put much emphasis on this; Luke is more worried about the fact that he’s moving away soon straining their relationship, and not the whole Future Layton thing. imo it would have been interesting to see his actual thoughts on/feelings about it, since he’s surprisingly calm throughout the entire game before the reveals happen; you can argue he just has complete faith in Hershel and doesn’t think he would ever go dark, but then why doesn’t he bring this up, insist that this can’t be true? I think he should have). The fact that as I just said it foreshadows how Luke will leave Hershel at the end of the game, something that Luke worries about later on in the game. And most of all, the biggest, worst thing it foreshadows… Hershel’s relationship with Clive. Clive had that statue made himself, put it in his giant set. He WANTS that kind of mentor-student bond with Hershel, that’s how he sees them, just from their one interaction in front of the exploding buildings… or at least, that’s how he wants to see it. He sees how close Hershel and Luke are throughout the entire game, and he yearns for that kind of bond with Hershel, too. The fact that the boy in the statue story has an illness that he eventually dies from, but that their friendship withstands… it’s probably meant to represent Clive’s insanity, that he hopes Hershel will save him from - he is Clive’s light of hope in his despair. Or, to be more accurate to the statue, even if Clive’s madness ends up killing him (which it very nearly does, and by that point he fully expects that it will), he’ll still have had those memories of that time he spent with him, and Hershel will never forget him, and that will mean something special. man though can you imagine an AU where Clive is literally terminally ill too, and that’s why he’s yolo-ing this entire thing so hard and doesn’t care if it ends up killing him in the end, at least he got to be with Hershel one more day; ahahahaha turn up the angsttttttttttttt-

Shmelmey and Shmarton do not at all look like Chelmey and Barton, smh

For everything Clive accounted for with his role and setting, he’s honestly way too rude and crass sometimes to be Luke lmao, even if you try to imagine a world where Hershel did go dark and Luke was changed by it… at least imo

the like 4 puzzles that give Clive’s solving animations/dialogue are the most serotonin-boosting things in the world

“you will come back, won’t you?” Clive asks Hershel about his trip to visit Chelmey, desperately wanting him to stop him before it’s too late :’)

Rosetta and her....... sessions....... with Hershel........ hajkkALSKDLD

Okay but Hershel is kind of dickish sometimes though, despite his whole “gentleman” thing??? There’s the elephant in the room which I’ll Get To, but like first he guilt-trips Chelmey into getting him access to confidential information about the lab explosion, and then he has the absolute balls to tell him “Bill Hawks is being held in the future” and that’s IT. No explanation, nothing else, just THAT, and then he LEAVES, after he’d promised to share every last detail with him. I don’t blame Chelmey at all for tailing them and barging in to get information himself, like damn Hershel, why so savage sometimes in not a good way

which brings me to Ranting About Flora’s Treatment, Part 3: The Finale. Y’all I literally cannot even BEGIN to describe how much the way Hershel and Luke treat Flora in UF specifically makes me seethe..... It was already bad in DB, no doubt, but in this game they are straight-up rude to her, mostly Hershel, for absolutely no reason, and I CANNOT fathom why. He constantly makes the excuse that he’s concerned for her safety, and that the places they’re going to are too dangerous for her, but it all exudes a level of thinly-veiled annoyance, even confusion as to why Flora is so upset that they never bring her along and wants to go with them at all... almost like her “frail” feminine appearance (which isn’t helped by how the games make her feel sick or dizzy or tired multiple times), compared to someone like Emmy who could fight and has more masculine traits, means she’s less capable in Hershel’s mind, which, like, even if it’s unconscious on his part... how about no?? I could accept being worried about her, even if I’m still frustrated at her being left behind, and her constant kidnapping (which isn’t Hershel’s fault, even if he probablyyy could do a better job both times at protecting her), but I CANNOT excuse how short and dismissive Hershel is with her in this damn game; it honestly borders on ooc to me for him, I don’t know what the writers were thinking; do they just hate Flora that freaking much??? He treats her like a burden the entire time, apologizes to people for her, acts irritated at having to accommodate for her, when poor Flora just wants to spend time with him and feel like an equal to him and Luke. Meanwhile Clive of all people is the first one to treat her with kindness and respect and pleasure to see her when they first meet, like when Luke bitches about Flora being excited to see the river and not taking things seriously and Clive tells him to go easy on her (Clive, the one who has been rushing them along this entire time himself). honestly can see why it’s so easy to ship them, when literally everyone else treats her like crap It’s SO depressing honestly. Flora asks them if they thought to wonder where her future self was, and Hershel is just like hhhhh we’re kinda busy thinking about... you know.... important things... sorry not sorry....... like BITCH I WILL STRANGLE YOU, BE NICER TO YOUR DAUGHTER!!! Luke at least is a kid, but Hershel??? there’s no excuse!!! Luke be like “damn I hope Becky doesn’t look down on us for leaving Flora behind... >.>” THEY KNOW. THEY KNOW IT’S NOT RIGHT BUT THEY DON’T CARE AND DO IT ANYWAY. I’M SO MAD

Beasly just gets... straight-up murdered yo... between him and Subject 3, what were they smoking when coming up with the animals in this game, jfc. Test subject animals?? that’s unnervingly dark, despite how glossed over it is and how hilarious Subject 3 is a;lksd

LUKE LOVES SHERLOCK HOLMES THIS IS NOT A DRILL. THE DGS CROSSOVER IS WAITING, LEVEL-5 AND CAPCOM. MAKE LUKE’S (AND MY) DREAMS A REALITY

the intentional zoom-in on Clive’s sinister face in front of the tower will never not amuse me, and baffle me as to why they drew attention to it lmaooo

And okay back to time travel bullshit shenanigans, WHY the fuck does Dimitri not pick up on why him not remembering about the pen is such a big deal as soon as Paul first brings it up?? bruh. bruh. aren’t you a fucking TIME TRAVEL SCIENTIST. WHY DO YOU NOT KNOW SUCH A BASIC CONCEPT THAT BREAKS YOUR WHOLE FACADE IN SECONDS. It’d be one thing if he just couldn’t provide the right answer, but no, he straight-up HAS NO IDEA WHY HE SHOULD HAVE TO KNOW ABOUT THE PEN. “HOW THE FUCK SHOULD I KNOW-” bruhhhh. Dimitri. my dude. i love you but you are actually so dumb sometimes, like holy shit (more on this later though)

Paul talking to Dimitri about his plan is really good; he has a “...” moment before telling him what he’s doing can’t be excused, like “oh shit let me jump on board, wait fuck i gotta stay in character, Layton is a wuss he would never agree to this god dammit Layton-”. jokes aside though, I’m honestly confused as to how much he actually knew before Dimitri’s exposition in the pagoda, and why exactly he goes along with helping Hershel stop him... and what Dimitri was thinking roping him into this. Because I can’t really figure out Paul’s motives here and how they changed, if they did at all. The only information we get about how he first became involved is that Dimitri was paying him a lot of money to get Hershel to the pagoda and to him - he knows that “future London” isn’t real, he knows Future Layton isn’t real, so the extent of his knowledge seems to be that “this man wants to screw Layton over somehow and is giving me $$$ to get it done; there’s no downside here, never mind this suspicious as fuck fake London and all these people that shouldn’t be here”, but then Hershel gave him more information, probably that Claire was involved in what Dimitri was doing, and his concerns about a traitor being involved if he had already begun to suspect Clive by that point, and then he suddenly decided to turn against Dimitri? Even though you’d think saving Claire would be a reason for him to want to help him...? Or did he plan to turn against him from the very start, and wanted Hershel to come because he knew he could stop all this (part of his character development)? The latter is the most likely, though I still don’t entirely understand or maybe I’m just having a brain fart, that’s very likely too. And Dimitri on the other hand, did he know that Paul liked Claire too and would want to save her (and maybe about his salt for Hershel too), and that’s why he got his help? That makes more sense... but also doesn’t, cause as I said it seems like Paul didn’t know Claire was involved until Hershel told him and then Dimitri told everyone at the pagoda, so maybe he literally just said “here’s some money, help me fuck over Layton, not telling how” and just trusted in him that much, even though Paul is an evil genius who could and does put a stop to all his plans with his machines... once again, Dimitri looking dumb....

Clive, in the most deadpan voice ever at the top of the pagoda: oh no, the prime minister is in danger, someone help him

Flora as they’re escaping the tower: “professor no please take me with you instead of future Luke” Hershel: *ignores her feelings and makes a decision for her yet again* Clive: “shhh don’t worry Flora; i know i’m going to kidnap you in like an hour but i’m just trying to rescue you from these insensitive jerks. not Don Paolo though; he’s a gentleman.”

It’s interesting to me that Luke and Hershel keep acting as if Future Luke and future London are legit even after Future Layton has been revealed to be a fake. Hershel at least probably knows none of it is real by now, even if he hasn’t exactly figured out Clive’s role in everything yet, and is just not revealing his knowledge for now, but Luke is still rolling with it... wonder what’s going through his mind by this point. again, it frustrates me that Luke really has no emotional reaction to anything in UF, aside from the statue and his worries about leaving Hershel soon and how that in particular will affect their relationship

I also wonder what Clive is thinking by this point. Now that the Future Layton jig is up, what kind of story is he going with now? We never find out because Hershel reveals everything completely the next time Clive joins up with them again, but in the (unreasonable) case that he hadn’t, would Clive have just acted like he didn’t know that Alain Stahngun was actually someone named Dimitri, who was actually pretending to be Layton, and that the real Layton was somewhere else out there that they needed to find? I don’t know WHY I’m so interested in details like these that don’t matter at all in the long run a;lksdfklfd, but I am... he tells Flora to continue the “investigation” without him, so clearly he still had something in mind, and didn’t expect Hershel to out him quite so soon after that even if deep down he wanted it

Chelmey really cares for Barton and it’s actually so sweet, oml :’)

I didn’t really praise Paul’s character development in this game enough before, but I really do love it, even if I don’t quite understand the circumstances that started it. It’s not something I would have expected with how he’s presented in CV and DB, but it’s very nice to see this be the culmination of his character, and it’s kinda sad that it feels a bit more natural than Descole’s sudden shift in backstory/character between ED and MM/AL... It’s very funny and good to see him and Luke bicker at each other, and how he seems to have a soft spot for Flora... it’s all cute. I just wish there’d been a bit more time for him to talk to them, but that’s what fanfic is for

Don’t make me have to see Hershel beaten up in the street :’(

The sprite of Dimitri standing in the bar is incredibly hot.... damn why are all the older male characters my type >.>

Alright but it’s about time I finally talk about Dimitri without dissing him for being stupid sometimes and say that in short, I love him. He might even be my favorite new character in UF, even more than Clive; I don’t know if it’s just the Liam O’Brian Tragic Sexy Tired Villain effect or what (nah let’s be real, that’s a huge part of it lmao), but he’s fantastic and utterly breaks my heart, in a much more understated way than how the game shoves Clive’s angst in your face, but his tragedy is nonetheless impossible to ignore. The flashback with young Dimitri is my favorite scene in the entire game, it is devastating and feels so cinematic, so raw and painful, and I’m glad they animated that part because it humanizes him so much more. Claire was his everything, he loved her so much, but it is so obvious to me (and to a lot of the fandom too, I think) that his love was entirely selfless - he might have been a little sad, but he was still mostly content letting Hershel have her, and when it comes to after her death, Dimitri would have been absolutely happy not being able to have her if he managed to save her life; he just wanted her to live. He was in love with her, yes, but he also loved her, as a friend, as a scientist, as a person whose time was cut far too short for entirely selfish and unnecessary reasons, and the majority of his anger and bitterness and drive came from a desire to fix such an injustice - to save an innocent person’s life. And the saddest part of him doing all this and trying to sustain Claire’s existence in the present once he finds her, if you go with the closed loop time travel theory, is that Dimitri should already know it’s impossible for him to succeed in this as long as he remembers finding her body in the past - him succeeding would create a paradox, thus, he can’t save her. But he’s so deep in his despair and obsession and insistence on preserving her life that I don’t think he ever stops to think about this - or he does, but refuses to acknowledge it. I’m sure he was incredibly sweet and kind and soft in the past, with her, and with his passion, and it’s heartbreaking to see how broken he is now, how miserable and tired he is, how much everything changed him. And wanting to get back at someone like Bill, who had it all to begin with and then carelessly used them to gain even more, well, I don’t blame him for that. >_> Not to mention his relationship with Clive, which is all kinds of fascinating to think about: the most chaotic, dysfunctional mess of a half-business partnership half-father/son relationship there is, ahaha... Both of them are unhealthy to the extreme in different ways, but with how much time they spent together, it’s inevitable they had vulnerable moments around each other... Clive is the only other person Dimitri would have around during his research to possibly grow to care about, even if it was entirely unconsciously. Learning he was using him would, well, ruin their relationship even more than it was already messed up, but maybe he would visit Clive in prison at least once, assuming Hershel was. I just crave content for them, ugh. Dimitri just deserved so much better, he makes me so sad </3 and I honestly hate that we don’t get to see him say goodbye to Claire at the end before Hershel; sure it would have utterly killed me, but surely he deserved that much...

The utter, frankly amazing, stupidity of Flora’s kidnapping has been stated everywhere, we all know it, but just.... yeah. smh

Seeing the mobile fortress be like *war flashbacks to the Detragon* “Not This Shit Again” Hershel why tf you putting Luke in more danger AGAIN???

The car scenes with the mobile fortress are, at least to me, the funniest parts of the entire game, even better than the casino, oh my god they’re AMAZING. Luke screaming and flailing his arms while Hershel deadpan flings the car towards the fortress, all the bumps they hit riding across it later on, the car just FALLING and Bill almost falling out of it, and then the plane, all the while Hershel displays no more than mild frustration while everyone else is PANICKING... “a plane? This is an automobile!” ...iconic. top PL moments ever. Luke don’t you recall the time when Hershel built an entire mini plane out of a chainsaw and a barrel in ED, come on now

Onto Claire. Claire doesn’t get much screentime, but some of the moments she does have are very good; she’s one of the best and most fleshed-out female PL characters imo, and like a lot of things, I appreciate her a lot more after this replay than I did years ago... LayClaire is a cute ship and all, but I was never really obsessed with it; rather, I’m realizing now I’m more invested in what Claire has to offer by herself. I hate to use the term “strong female character” cause that sounds so cliche... but she really is strong. The entire part with her wanting to save Clive, their conversation, and her bringing him out... god it gets me, it really does. She’s known she’s going to die for ages, and at this point in the game she knows it could be any moment now, so she has no reason to try to keep herself safe; she’s doomed no matter what, so she might as well spend the last few minutes of her life saving another life, and not just anyone: someone who’s just killed countless people, who anyone else would see as insane, who doesn’t care for her, doesn’t care if he lives or dies - but Claire is compassionate enough that, despite everything, she fiercely believes he deserves to live. Because of her own guilt and sins she believes she bears, yes, but also simply because she believes he can still change, and doesn’t deserve to die, despite the HORRIBLE atrocity he just committed. She’s just that good a person. It’s no wonder she and Hershel loved each other and were made for each other; both of them are such kind, loving, selfless people who see the best in anyone no matter what. Perhaps she hoped and suspected that Hershel would look out for and care for Clive once he was in prison, so she wanted to make sure that could happen, even if she wouldn’t be around to ever see it.

sorry I just get really emotional about this part, about the entire mood and tone of Claire desperately trying to save this kid, and the way the camera focuses on the massive scale of the fortress and how it dwarfs them in size... It’s a really powerful and melancholic scene (just like Dimitri’s flashback scene; have I mentioned how much I adore the atmosphere and cinematic direction of this game? cause god I do) with the knowledge of her real identity and circumstances, the visuals and the music are so good, ugh i just have so many feels. mom Claire hurts me </3 she’s so good... Despite the fact that she dies, and so much of what everyone is doing is because of her death, her presence in the story is so strong, and it never feels like her only purpose is to die for everyone else’s development and that’s it (unlike... well, a lot of other pl females :’); she has her own things to do, she stops the fortress alongside Hershel, and literally saves the main antagonist’s life. Seriously I just adore the fact that she of all people is the one to rescue Clive in the end even though she wasn’t at all obligated to (although I’d be interested and cry over an AU where Hershel saves him instead; it honestly surprises me that he wasn’t going to until Claire said something...), because Clive is the only character (of the adults) who doesn’t have a direct relationship with Claire, but they’re still connected by the explosion, and so it makes for an interesting and terribly sad dynamic, even if they only have a few minutes with each other, for all the reasons I said earlier. Claire doesn’t think what he did was right, but she knows what she and the other scientists did wasn’t right either - and it’s too late for her now, but it’s not too late for him; she knows he has a kind heart, deep down, and that he needs help if he wants to redeem himself. She feels responsible for him, feels like she owes him that second chance, after indirectly taking his parents from him and causing him such misery and brokenness... She’s so brave and strong-willed to be able to do and admit all that she does; I just love her. It clearly kills her to leave Hershel, I don’t think she intended at first to ever let him know who she was (hence Celeste), but she’s not too upset in the end, because she (rightly) knows that he will be all right. ;; She’s so beautiful, too... wish we could have seen her interact with so many of the other characters </3

and so my favorite “insert Descole into the main trilogy” AU is where Descole intercepts Claire and makes some sort of body for her, like how everyone headcanons that for Aurora post-AL. (or/also just mobile fortress vs. Descole robots, that’s cool too lol)

And finally, Clive, the infamous star of Unwound Future, thought I talked about him a bit already (and also in this post a few weeks ago). Clive is probably the PL series’ best written villain Anton excluded, I absolutely love him, like everyone does. Nothing really about him hasn’t been done before elsewhere, but that’s not a bad thing; when I was younger and first played the game I really only paid attention to his sympathetic side, but now I’ve also grown an appreciation and fondness for that kind of unabashedly awful, manic, evil insanity a villain like him has, it’s just SO entertaining to watch. If PL was a more mature/higher rated series I’d love to see his chaotic crazed energy played up even more, just to really hammer in how messed up he is, ahaha, but of course that would make it harder to sympathize with him..... and unfortunately, it already is kind of hard, because.... shit, the number of people he must have killed? It’s a LOT. A FUCKTON. The level of sympathy the game gives Clive and the way it presents him at the end is not at ALL relative to the astronomical amount of people that had to have been squashed to death by his machine, to the point that it honestly makes me uncomfortable, and I try to just retcon that in my head, as hard as it is to imagine a scenario where that thing could have come up to London and not hit any houses, because like..... There’s no coming back from that. He knew exactly what he was doing, madness or not, and I honestly just... don’t want him to be such a mass murderer. Maybe it’s wrong to ignore it, but the game wants me to feel sorry for him and see his potential for redemption, and his relationship with Hershel is so good... dammit game, why’d you have to show those houses being crushed. Ugh. Because Clive is so compelling as someone who feels betrayed by people in power, who desires revenge not only for himself but for all the people who suffered just like he has that he says he bore witness to as a reporter; it’s a very relatable position and a good story, for his well-meaning intentions to be skewed and lost in the midst of his rage and despair and hatred and insanity, where his very valid point of “hey people in government are fucked up and don’t give a shit about us and that needs to change” gets turned into “they all need to die even if the very innocent people I want to save get hurt by this as well”, and I really wish that whole angle of it had been played up a bit more, and there had been more of an opportunity for Hershel to reason with him and argue that in the midst of his blind need for revenge, he’s become even worse than the people who need justice handed to them (cue some Descole allusionssss). He wouldn’t have to win him over, Clive is already too deep by that point despite how much he wanted to be stopped, but just having more of that than just what happens in the surveillance room would have been sooooooo good, I love that conversation. It would have made Clive even better and really drive home that he’s 1) kinda right about some things and wants better for people 2) still very fucking wrong and selfish at the same time and has taken it all way too far 3) very fucked up and broken. Not that the third point isn’t already abundantly clear, but... yeah. It would have given him even more depth, made him more sympathetic, and helped juuust a little to offset how much the game handwaves his mass murders... just a little... One of my favorite Clive scenes though is when the fortress is breaking down and he’s still there, desperately trying to save it, still in denial about the fact that all his plans have failed and that everything he’s done (and himself) is about to go up in flames; I know everyone loves making fun of him and that that scene is pretty memeable (he does get bodied so much in the game, lmaooo), but it makes him look so vulnerable, all alone in there by himself, like a child, which is what he really is, deep down: he never truly wanted to do something so abhorrent and evil, but his emotions and mind spiraled so badly out of control and it led him to such a dark, horrible place, where he couldn’t stop himself, no matter how much he wanted to, and in the end all he can do is watch helplessly as the reality of what he’s done and his unwound future all comes crashing down in front of him, never to be salvaged. And he believes wholeheartedly that he is going to die, that he deserves to (this is my favorite Clive scene; he’s so hurt and resigned, the voice acting kills me ugh), he doesn’t understand at all why Claire wants to save him, especially if he knows she’s one of the scientists (as his line of “why are you of all people helping me” implies), because he always thought none of them ever cared about him and people he saw as like him, thought everyone was like Bill Hawks, but Claire still cared enough to want to save his life, even though she was one of the people he was actively targeting with his revenge... I wonder how he would have felt at the time if he had known about her situation and that she was dying. </3 I just want so many good things for him, as so much of the fandom does. He’s so messed up but that’s what makes him so interesting, and his potential relationship with Hershel that the ending of the game suggests could happen is so touching and lovely and uplifting, one of my favorite kinds of relationships in fiction: Clive’s issues would persist for so long, for forever, really, but Hershel would support him and help him heal, and be there for him always, no matter how much Clive would feel like he didn’t deserve it. I eat this dynamic up, I really do, every single time I encounter it in a story, and it’s made even better by the fact that as I’ve said, Hershel has so much in common with Clive, and so they would get along very well for that reason, and Clive could unknowingly help Hershel just as much Hershel tries to help him. They’re so good for each other. Add Luke too, and Flora, and Desmond...! just ahhhhh........ there’s so much goodness. Clive you absolute glorious, fucked-up mess of a character, I love you. :’) and I love fic writers who explore facets of his personality and write about him. He’s only in one game, and there’s still a few hiccups, as I said, yet he’s handled far better than Descole or Randall in my opinion (though I love them too)... just an amazing fucking villain, and character. I wish UF could have gone deeper with him than it did, but even so, the possibilities with Clive are endless. I love him, so much ;;

and some of the themes of the plot in this game, uhh, hit a little close to home in good ole’ 2020/21 time we live in? :’) #FuckBillHawks

Hershel saying goodbye to Claire.... god. One of the top scenes in the entire series, probably the #1 most iconic I’d even go so far as to say. I don’t even really ship LayClaire, but there’s an indescribable emotion that finale gives me... it’s just breathtaking, in the most gutwrenching, nostalgic, beautiful way. I still maintain that Diabolical Box’s ending is sadder than this one, for a multitude of reasons, just comparing the stories and situations the characters are in, but I 100% don’t blame people for bawling at this scene more than any other, just because of the way it’s done yes I know I won’t shut up about the cinematography; the lighting, the camera angles, the pacing of it, Hershel’s fucking kicked puppy faces, the dialogue oh god the dialogue; it ALL hits like a TRUCK and comes together beautifully. At this point in his life Hershel has been through so much loss, so much so that it is unbearable - when he cries that he doesn’t want to say goodbye again, that he can’t say goodbye again, that he refuses to, nothing in the world is more true: this man has been through too much, and he’s hit his breaking point. even if you don’t have the prequels in mind when watching this, as most people don’t/didn’t the first time through, the overwhelming sense of burden and loss Hershel is feeling is so palpable, so painful - you get the sense that this isn’t just about Claire; Hershel has never shown emotion like this before up to this point, so for him to finally break down like this... it speaks volumes. After so many years of holding everything in, he finally can’t take it anymore, and basically stabbing me in the fucking chest would hurt less </3 I complain about Hershel never showing emotion like this (never crying) in the prequels whenever he’s hit with an equally horrible bombshell, and I still feel that way, but at the same time a part of me is also glad that’s the case, because it makes the very last (two) scenes in the entire series hit so much harder, knowing that he finally loses his composure after dealing with so much. As the titular character of the series, Hershel’s development is very understated and subtle, so it’s all the more meaningful when he actually snaps, because it makes him feel so much more real and human than he ever is the rest of the time, when he maintains his facade of being a perfectly composed, calm, and together gentleman; this scene finally say that, no, Hershel is a person, and he is broken in a lot of ways, because some puzzles you just can’t solve no matter how hard you try, and it’s so sad. And this sad tone of loss and longing permeates the entire cutscene; the way the title is dropped in Claire’s dialogue (both versions equally haunting imo), and Hershel taking off his hat for the first time ever, and the pan up and transition back to show the falling snow as “Time Travel”, my favorite instrumental in the series, kicks in... y’all there is no other feeling in the world like the feeling that elicits, there really isn’t ಥ⌣ಥ ❤️💔 the only thing that might even come close to it is the ending of Azran Legacy with Surely Someday, simply because it was the ending of the series, but the ending of Unwound Future hits me harder knowing it’s the end of the timeline, and with everything else in hindsight. And then an unknown amount of time later, even with Luke gone and Hershel only having Flora there with him anymore unless we headcanon DESMOND COMES BACK BECAUSE OF COURSE HE DID RIGHT, Hershel is still no longer wearing his hat, to show that he’s finally started to heal from his pain, and accepted the loss(es), because throughout all of UF Hershel had never really gotten over Claire’s death no matter how much he tried to pretend like he had, but you don’t realize that until you see the ending, until he got one final chance to see her. I just... ugh I love it so much, so much. It means so much, for Hershel and for the series, and that’s why it makes me cry (and don’t even get me sTARTED on Luke’s goodybe, and how upsetting yet beautiful THAT is. yes, Luke isn’t a gentleman yet, and Hershel finally learns that maybe he doesn’t always have to be one, either :’’’’’’)

Unwound Future is a masterpiece. Diabolical Box has my favorite characters and story for the new characters, and favorite settings, personally, but Unwound Future is such top-tier storytelling and writing; it feels so epic and sweeping and (here i go again) cinematic, it’s so polished and everything flows so well, the pacing is wonderful, everything ties up so perfectly and there’s very little I would change Flora bitching aside and practically nothing that feels like filler, even though some of it technically is. The tone stays consistent and they really push the boundaries of how serious and heavy these games can be, and it works, and doesn’t feel silly or glossed over or too unrealistic or too heavyhanded like some of the other games are at times; the plot twists/reveals feel the least absurd and the most grounded in reality, despite still being wild, and it focuses on some really relevant stuff and themes (again, it feels really grounded and raw, and the least fantastical, which isn’t a bad thing for the other games/movie per se, but being more realistic works in this one’s favor. No one is going to have their family separated and murdered by a criminal secret organization working to unearth ancient advanced civilized ruins, or lose years of their life and memories in said ancient ruins, or have their life ruined in an eternal unaging state from hallucinogenic gas, but being screwed over by people in government who will do anything to make sure they never have to face consequences? now that’s a mood). It’s just a really fucking good game, by far the best Professor Layton game, and I’ll always stand by that, despite preferring DB just a bit more cause it hits more of my personal tastes (DB is still very good too though, don’t get me wrong), and it’s also enhanced even more by the prequels, though it stands perfectly on its own. The perfect culmination of Hershel’s character arc, and the absolute high point of the series. It’s one of the ones I keep coming back to the most, just because it has so much to offer; as someone who is absolutely enamored with near-perfect stories of this caliber, I couldn’t ask for more. ❤️

[dragonnan]

Author Interview Tag

Tagged by @aelaer a week or two ago, thank you!

Name: Tanya (among family I'm Nan or Auntie Nanny)

Fandoms: Sherlock, MCU, Psych, Prodigal Son, and a goodly collection of others

Where you post: For a number of years I posted on FFN but between the really shitty reviews and extremely cumbersome posting process I finally quit.  I posed on Psychfic while still an active part of that fandom but that, too, has pretty much ended.  I put a few stories on Wattpad but found it to be pretty meh. I now post exclusively to AO3.

Most popular multi-chapter fic: It's a tossup between “Fury” on Psychfic and “All Nighter” on AO3 – one based on comments and the other on Kudos.  Frankly “popularity” is really subjective because there's also stuff like read count and with comments, at least nearly half are replies from me and read count also includes re-reads as well as every time I clicked on the damn thing to edit so....

You know I'm just really not sure how to properly answer this??

Favorite story you’ve written so far: Like others have stated you can ask me this on three different days and get three different answers and there will be more than 1 fic mentioned every time so.... Because I write in different fandoms I just absolutely can't list a single fic.  The best I can narrow it would a fic from my top 3 fandoms.

Psych: Paint it Black.  I had read a fic where Shawn was gradually going blind and had really been enjoying it and the challenges it presented.  Sadly it was never completed.  As has happened before I decided I would write my own damn fic if I couldn't get a completed story so that was the primary motivation to start this.  What I most love about this is writing from Shawn's perspective as he navigates being blind and not knowing whether or not his condition is permanent.  I did my best to honor the experience of blind and partially blind people and tried to look beyond the cliché.

MCU: I have so much fun writing these stories! In spite of the dumpster fire the film canon became I do so love this sandbox and employing various forms of unfucking it.  So I'm gonna cheat a little and pick two for my faves here since one is a WIP.  Sed Diabolus.  I don't need to have completed it yet to know this will be my all-time favorite.  This is the first fic that has been entirely plotted out and OMG I'm so excited for iiiit!!  The second is Simple Math which seems like an odd choice given there's zero action – mostly just one character – hell, not even any whump.  But there is something about that deep dive into Tony's mindset that keeps this as a fave even though it was the first thing I ever wrote for the MCU.  I learned about Tony as I wrote this and I also worked my way through those motivations that bothered me regarding Stane.  Even years later I still mentally go back to this fic whenever I write Tony because I feel encapsulates the essence of how I see him as a character.

Sherlock:  Compared to other fandoms I'm still quite new to this fandom so I don't have nearly as many fics.  But I still have a favorite!  And, like with the MCU, it's the first story I ever wrote for this fandom; The Tiger and the Shark. Returning to a plot device I've employed in other fics, this one is built around a sexual assault and taking the character on a journey from that terrible event to the point where they rediscover themselves.  PTSD ever being my favorite form of whump I employ that fairly a lot in this story and employ some kinda radical methods for coping with those memories.  

Fic you were nervous to post: I mean until I start getting comments I'm a world of anxiety with every story I post.  But grabbing a specific fic that hit my nerves – that Sherlock fic I'd said was my fave certainly qualified.  Not only was it my first Sherlock fic – it also was charging out of the gate with a very heavy topic so yeah – I wasn't sure if people would absolutely hate it or find my characterizations totally off or what.

How you choose your titles: It varies a bit.  In some stories, like Sed Diabolus, I actually consult friends on various ideas.  Other times I'll consider songs or lyrics and my favorite thing is if I can alter the known title just a bit to make it more relevant to the fic (I did that a LOT with Psych fics which was the method the show also employed for its episode titles).  One of my favorite Psych titles is “The Wizard Was the Wicked Witch and the Scarecrow Lost His Courage”.  

Do you outline: Almost never – not until “Sed Diabolus”.  That story, though, is so astoundingly complex that without an outline I'd be hopelessly lost.  I am, though, trying to make a practice of outlining more because it helps SO much!

Complete: If we count every one-shot collection and challenge collection it likely is over 200 stories. Of course a lot of those are one-shots.  My total completed chaptered fics number maybe around 34?

In progress: 16 – between Psychfic and AO3.  All Psych stories are on long-term hiatus for the foreseeable future (some, honestly, I will never finish as they are many many years old and I've lost the inspiration for the plot). Several MCU stories are also on the back-burner while I focus on “Sed Diabolus”.  I admit I get LOTS of story ideas and staying focused on a single fic is not something I've ever been greatly successful with.

Coming soon/not yet started: I meaaaan.... lots?? I have probably several hundred ideas and partially started fics across many fandoms.  As to “imminently coming soon...” I don't think I currently have an active story that I haven't already posted at least a first chapter.  Sadly I have zero patience for developing something for months before posting which is why I have so many WIPs.  That said I DO have a Sherlock au that has been poking at me now and then involving the witch trials that started in Denmark and, eventually, made their way to Salem.  The idea would be that Molly Hooper is accused of being a witch.  She, of course, is innocent but cause this unfortunate attention due to her “uncanny” ability to heal the sick and injured (not so much uncanny as opposed to employing methods that aren't so reliant on superstition and folklore).  

She is scheduled to be tortured and executed but is saved by Sherlock – a strange recluse primarily ignored and given a pass as he solves mysteries for people. He and his friend John save Molly from this awful fate. The twist is that Sherlock is a sorcerer (bit of marvel crossover-ish) and able to transport them to safety.  

Do you accept prompts: I wish I could cause I love ideas but I don't have the time/energy to always work on what I already have and I'm awful at follow thru.  Like I will never turn away an Ask wanting to share ideas but I can't promise that I can actually write anything.

Upcoming story you are most excited to write:  As was the reply to a previous query – I have lots that are ideas that will linger in partial stages for sometimes years.  If it's “upcoming” I've already posted the first chapter lol!  But, again, I have several story ideas that whenever I poke through my folders I get excited about someday actually writing them.  Here is a teaser for an MCU fic involving Tony Stark and Obie (I still feel this was never explored enough – certainly not in fic):

They were doing a retrospective, ten year anniversary kinda... whatever.  Unofficial, of course. Certainly nothing Pepper would have dreamed up even at her most drunk (which, honestly, was never her scene.  Tony had sorta owned that space well beyond the time it had started owning him).  Whose idea it ultimately had been?  Frankly Tony couldn't give a fuck.  That he was asked to be one of the speakers was slightly more... awkward. Awkward was the right word, yeah?  Nauseating was certainly another and possibly a bit more accurate.

Dead for a decade and Obadiah Stane still managed to fuck with his life.

But... it hadn't always been that way. At least, not as he'd believed back when the Walkman had been on every kid's Christmas list.  

He'd thought it was bonding; at the time.  His dad had never been one for just hanging out; shooting the shit; telling tales out of school.  No, Pops, when he bothered to interact, led with questions.  “You keeping your grades up?” “You still seeing that floozy?” “When are you going to pull your head out of your ass and grow the hell up?” “You do realize it's my name you're disgracing every time you go on a bender?”

With Obie it was just, easy.  Obie might ask about school but it was always with approval and pride.  He would discuss Tony's conquests as though Tony had climbed Kilimanjaro wearing nothing but underwear and a cape.    

Obie was there when his father wasn't. Which meant that Obie was always there.  The first time he got astoundingly drunk on his father's scotch, Obie was the one to help him hunch over the toilet and vomit expensive, aged booze into the toilet.  Obie was also the one to replace the depleted bottle to keep Howard in the dark.  For a fourteen year old kid still trying to gain his dad's favor, that had meant everything.

He saw his first porn with Obie; sex education ala Traci Lords, three months shy of his fifteenth birthday.  That was the same time he was introduced to weed.  Obie had cautioned him to use it sparingly; didn't want to fry that genius brain, he'd say, and ruffle his hair.  The porn had made him uncomfortable.  Obie had turned it off and told him they could watch whatever Tony wanted.  They'd ended up changing the station to Knight Rider; smoking and munching Cheetos and laughing over their orange fingers.

It was Obie who was there, arm around his shoulders, after his parents died.  He desperately didn't want to sob in front of the man.  Things were so complicated with his dad that all he felt was blinding guilt... as though some part of him had caused this.  But Obie had filled him with bourbon until the emotions got soft around the edges and he'd sat beside the older man, head tipping gradually to the right until he was held up by Obie's shoulder.  Obie had just slung an arm around him and let Tony pass out while he rubbed a broad hand up and down his bicep.

It was strange, now, looking back with adult perspective.  A perspective that included Afghanistan and his intended execution while Obie talked about legacy and responsibility while Tony's lungs slowly seized.  He'd taken the time to sit there – arm around Tony's shoulders while one broad hand traveled up and down Tony's bicep – just like when he was a kid and Obie was the whole world.

He'd tried to remember if it had felt so... tainted... at the time.  Or if he'd always believed it was love.

Obie had never quite crossed that line. Though hindsight offered a peek into that possibility with enough clarity Tony had fought with his cramping gut for nearly thirty minutes.  He'd staved off vomiting though he was fairly certain his dignity had still been in tatters what with Bruce wandering in on his misery.

Upcoming story you are most excited about (this is basically a repeat of the above question so I decided to change it.  Do you have a future story idea you'd like to write that is not yet beyond the vague idea stage?  I love stories that put Molly in some sort of jeporady and I have a barely formed idea to someday write a “stalker fic” of some sort and not I don't care that this trope had been done on  repeat – I still love it lol!  I have a smidge of writing for it:

“I need your help.”

As afternoons at Baker Street went, this was a mundane request heard so often that Sherlock's typical reply, “Obviously, or you wouldn't be here”, could have been printed on flash cards.  The detective had actually made the suggestion after a particularly full day at the flat and having heard the statement no less than twenty times.  

Today, however, Sherlock merely blinked for a moment.  Then, with an awkwardness rare to a man with a lethal sort of grace in his movements, Sherlock gestured to John's chair, JOHN'S CHAIR, before taking his usual seat.

Molly didn't exactly smile but her lips edged up a bit before she sat.

John cleared his throat before pointing a vague hand towards the kitchen.  “I'll just go make some tea, shall I?”

“No, please, I...”  The stammer in her speech was not uncommon; though John couldn't recall such obvious fear.  Forgoing the kitchen he, instead, took the hard wooden chair facing the other two.

“Molly, what's wrong?”

Tagging: @kitcat992 @mizjoely @sgam76 @ariaadagio @hanuko @ceruleanmindpalace 

[bluehhj]

(don't) love me ˀˀ - one

(DON’T) LOVE ME  [“LISTEN TO ME” SPIN-OFF]

CHAPTER 01  ||  M.LIST

WORDS: 1.1K

a/n: just for you guys not to forget; the narrations will be made from Chaerin's point of view

It started in July, on a Thursday that should have been normal like every other so far.

End of semester is always a mess.

There are people who finish their exams and disappear from college, carrying with them the certainty that their grades were so excellent that they no longer have to worry about anything until the beginning of next semester, as well as there are people who go into despair and, in cases more seriously, they drop out of courses because they are no longer willing to shell out the significant amount that the facilities imposed as a condition.

Fortunately, I fit into the first group, because I struggled to keep the averages in the assessments and devoted myself to all the work, aware that they were always worth more.

Still, at that end of the semester, however, the mess — not necessarily related to academia — was finally present in my day and, unlike the others, it had a first and last name.

I don't know if it was the idea of the dean or any of the institution's coordinators, but scheduling a lecture in the auditorium, when the rooms were not even forty percent full, could have been too frustrating. I myself was only there to deliver a work that was accidentally lost from the portfolio and my courage to endure three massive hours of content that we would have to review in the next period was less than zero, although neurolinguistics was a subject that interested me greatly.

Given my almost tangible indisposition, I really would have gone home without even thinking twice, yet, there was an obstacle: Kim Taeyeon, our favorite professor.

Taeyeon was one of those people who you can't say no. She knew how to convince anyone without even saying much, so much that five minutes of conversation was enough for the fifteen people in the class to give in. In my case, I was sorry to say no to her little eyes and was seduced by the promise of several additional hours we would earn at the end of the course. Besides, I didn't have much to do outside, because, even though Jisung was in our house, we would do nothing but waste our time watching old movies.

So I went.

We were not alone in the auditorium, the medical and physiotherapy classes gathered there as well as the latest sound and image details were organized by the team responsible for structuring the lecture.

My class has never been an example of friendship and collective companionship. From the beginning of the course, the room was divided into a dozen cliques that rarely mingled with the rest any longer than group work required.

Personally speaking, I had nothing against anyone, but I felt more comfortable around three specific people: Lee Minho, Ha Sooyoung  and Jeon Jungkook.

Because of fate, none of the three came to class that day, so I sat in any chair, not paying attention to my company until the end of the lecture, and perhaps that was my first slip.

I could have stood by San, Mingi, and Wooyoung, even though they had an annoying craze of laughing too loudly in inappropriate places, or maybe I could have ignored how Jinah looked in love at Im Jaebum and sat next to her and Jade, but no. I preferred to be alone and kept going for the next few minutes until he asked if he could sit in the empty chair next to mine and what must have meant nothing turned out to be everything.

My movements were limited to a shake of the head. If he found me rude, he didn't show it. But the truth was, I couldn't express any kind of more energetic reaction, and that should not have happened.

Kim Seungmin was a boy as normal as anyone there, with his frayed jeans and brown hair. There was nothing different about him, nothing that made him stand out from the rest.

So, why did he look so unique right away?

— "There are more people here than I thought," — he said suddenly, looking around. I believe that he also wasn't putting faith that someone would really be interested in neurolinguistics at this point in the championship. His in-depth analysis ended when he rested his eyes on my face. — "Physiotherapy?" — he suggested with a slight smile. It took me about four full seconds to realize that he was referring to my supposed course.

— "Psychology," — I said, returning the smile without even realizing it.

— "I would have been a psychologist if all my vocational tests had not pointed to medicine." — his voice was kind of nasal and soft as a feather, the kind you want to hear when you need to relax. It was sweet. — "By the way, I'm Kim Seungmin."

— "Kwon Chaerin."

— "You're not from here, are you?"

Another fact that I discovered about Seungmin that day was that he loved to talk, which should have repelled me a little. I was never the kind of person who talked a lot, especially to those who had just met, but, the ease with which our subject unfolded for the next few minutes surprised me.

I told him that my mother's whole family lived in Canada, so I was born there, and he told me that his dream was to visit the United States. Then, we started talking about what we thought about South Korea, from my foreign perspective and from his native perspective. Luckily, the place we were in was one of the most empty of the auditorium, so our whispers didn't disturb the lecture, which had begun at some point that went unnoticed by both of us.

— "What surprises me is that our rooms are in the same building and we had never seen each other until today," — he commented between conversations.

— "Yeah," — the low laugh tore from my lips effortlessly and, pleasantly comfortable at his presence, I leaned my arms against the back of the chair and added: —  "But I think we can change that now."

Seungmin opened his lips, but gave up saying anything when his eyes met the thin golden band on my ring finger, and I was ashamed to say that only then did I remember the existence of that detail.

I had a fiance at home and would marry him very soon.

It wasn't as if Jisung and I couldn't develop new friendships. Our relationship was healthy, just as our trust in each other was mutual. However, I needed to be honest with myself and admit that my glances on Seungmin and his glances on me were not as unpretentious as recommended for a committed woman.

And I cannot blame him at all, for, as soon as he became aware of the weight of my wedding ring, Seungmin wilted, forced a small smile, and replied lightly: — "Of course."

And even if his statement showed everything but the certainty that we would actually see each other from now on, I knew this was far from our last conversation.

                                                       「❀」

a/n:  >so far< we can begin to conclude that Seungmin is a misunderstood little angel and the fool of the story is Chaerin

anyway, I ask you guys to try to understand their side. I'm not saying they're completely right, far from it, but this love thing sucks *lies, love is beautiful, it just depends* and pointing out the mistakes of others is very easy when you don't know what it's like to live a situation like this

could Chaerin have broken up with Jisung before getting involved with Seungmin? yeah, she could. could Seungmin have been irreversible in refusing to get involved with Chaerin? he could too, but they got it wrong and everyone makes mistakes, so keep an open mind to it

changing the subject, I don't know if you guys noticed, but "listen to me" starts at the beginning of the year (like, 2019) and here is July, so, is about a few months earlier (like, 2018). it's just a detail that I found interesting to point out in case someone didn't notice

finally, the chapters in this au are shorter and a thousand times easier to write, so I'm likely to update more often, okay?

ily and take care bbys <3

[wendiuh]

Hey hey hey question! 😄 I've been wanting to start the fate series for awhile, and there was one I had watched some time ago, but I've realized there is multiple series? I've noticed you like it so I was hoping you could help me figure out where to start, what order to go in...? Thanks in advance dearie!

You have no idea how happy i was to see this ask omg girl I’m in Fate hell. This will get lengthy, so beware haha. If you have any other questions, feel free to come to me! If it becomes too much reading (I think it’s like 1.5k words oops) just scroll to the bottom for the summary XD. I’ll put my essay explanation under the cut:

If you’re completely new to Fate, then allow me to explain how the story is set up structure-wise. It is split into 3 separate routes that start off from the same point. Each route has a set heroine/love interest and explore different aspects of the story and characters. These routes are viewed in the order of Fate, Unlimited Blade Works, and Heaven’s Feel. Fate focuses on the character Saber, UBW focuses on Tohsaka Rin, and HF focuses on Matou Sakura.

Now the first thing all faithful Fate watchers would say is to read the original visual novel. I, however, did not start with this, but it is easy to see why people recommend this first. The Nasuverse (the world of Fate and other related series, named after creater Kinoko Nasu) is a very, very detailed world that has so many aspects to it. Reading the original story will definitely provide the most helpful context. I am currently reading the VN now to get a better understanding of the universe, and it is pretty enjoyable, but can get pretty slow.

Fair warning, though. The original VN is an adult game, meaning it is somewhat gory and deals with adult themes (aka sex). There was a re-release of it without any sex scenes called Realta Nua. I wont provide any links on this post on how get the VN, but there’s definitely YouTube videos out there to help.

If sitting through 80+ hours of reading isn’t your thing, and I don’t blame you if it isn’t, then we must turn to the animes. That’s where things get complicated.

There are 3 currently accessible animes out there set in the Fate/sn universe. There’s the orginal anime from 2006 that “covers” the 1st route, Fate, and was made by Studio Deen. I’m going to refer to this as Deen/stay night. I put the word “covers” in quotes because many Fate fans view this adaptation as a disgrace. I didn’t watch it, but many say it tries too hard to cover the story of the visual novel and somewhat combines the routes. Basically, it tried to adapt all of the visual novel but under the cover of the route Fate. However, it does seem to serve as an okay introduction to the Fate universe in general since it is the first anime adaptation out there.

In terms of release date, next comes the famous adaptation of Fate/zero by ufotable. This is a prequel follows the events prior to the beginning of Fate/stay night, and is hands down a phenomenal series in general. Many view FZ as a classic and a wonderful story, but it does have a few spoilers in terms of some big revelations that happen in the Stay Night routes. If you want to watch an amazing series and you’re okay with some spoilers for the main series, start here. As for me, I didn’t start here because I wanted to save it for last because of how many people that praised it.

Finally comes the UBW anime (the series by ufotable. Not the movie!). Commonly known as Unlimited Budget Works for its beautiful animation, this series focuses on the VN’s second route. This was released after FZ, so I do think ufotable made this series thinking fans already watched the prequel. However, I did start with this series first. Though there were some confusing points, I was able to understand most of the anime and it was pretty good. It took a second watch for me to fully understand the plot, but that’s kind of how a lot of animes work. You never enjoy the full scope of the series until you rewatch it. Both this series and FZ got at least 3 times better when I rewatched it, and that is saying a lot considering how much I liked them the first time through.

So, which one do you start with and what order to watch it in? For the sake of chronology, watch Deen/stay night, then FZ, then UBW. If you want to skip Deen/stay night (which is okay to do), then it is up to you what you want to watch first.

In my opinion, watch UBW first, then FZ. This saves the more serious and dark series for last, which will make the transition to the tone of the upcoming Heaven’s Feel adaptation movies more smooth.

But I think either way you watch the series will still get you a good amount of exposure to the Nasuverse. It’s complicated to start, but once you’re in, it gets better. Heck, even if you don’t fully get immersed into the universe, the 2 ufotable animes are still stellar and carry heavy messages as well as are pretty much eye candy thanks to that animation quality.

But what about all those other things with “Fate/” stamped onto it?

There are a couple of other major Fate installments out there, but they are NOT taking place in the Stay night universe. They are AUs that overall expand the lore of the Nasuverse (and also give the creators some more money lol). These include:

Fate/kaleid liner PRISMA☆ILLYA - A magical girl AU that is extremely different from Fate/sn. I think one should watch this after they finish the Stay Night series, but don’t feel forced to watch it, for it is completely non-canon.

Fate/apocrypha - This anime is currently airing as of my writing of this post. It follows a parallel universe “what if” situation. If this one certain event in history happened differently, then the events of Stay Night turn into this. This deals with completely different characters and set up. I only watched a few episodes of this anime and found it is probably most enjoyable to those familiar with the Nasuverse.

Fate/extra - Another parallel universe series coming out. Just like Apocrypha, this deals with new characters in general.

Fate/hollow ataraxia - A sequel Visual Novel to the original Stay Night story. Same characters and world, but 6 months later. It is another adult VN game, so it’s pretty much half-lore expansion and half-fanservice. 

Fate/prototype - This is a 1-episode OVA of Kinoko Nasu’s first envision of the series. There are some minor differences lore-wise, and the characters are mainly the same, save for a few design differences and gender swaps.

Carnival Phantasm - Ever watch those “crack” videos on YouTube? Like “Fairy Tail Crack” or “Boku no Hero Academia Crack”? These videos take an anime and make jokes out of its content and have many, many memes. Well, Carnival Phantasm is exactly that. It combines many series of the Nasuverse (mainly the Fate/stay night series and Nasu’s other work, Tsukihime) and makes it into a joyful, cute, hilarious, and downright amazing anime. It is filled with inside jokes of the universe and has some spoilers, so save this anime for last. I did skip the Tsukihime skits simply because I didn’t get the jokes, but there’s a montage of all the Fate skits on YouTube here. This series is the source of many, many fandom memes. You don’t have to watch it, but it is so funny.

Fate/Grand Order - A 1-episode OVA that adapts the first storyline of the famous mobile game with the same name. It is another parallel universe of some sort. New characters with some familiar faces of the Stay Night universe. The game is currently released in Japan and North America on the iTunes and Google Play store. It may be a waifu and husbando collector, but it is so addicting…

To conclude, there really isn’t a right answer that I can give you. But here’s my suggestion (aka the way I watched the anime):

1. Watch the Unlimited Blade Works anime by ufotable.

2. Watch Fate/zero.

3. If you want to rewatch then watch the first season of the UBW anime again, then watch FZ again, then watch the second season of UBW. Totally optional, but a fun way to watch the 2 series imo.

4. If you are okay with spoilers for Heaven’s Feel, watch Carnival Phantasm for the Fate sketches. By spoilers I mean there are some jokes from that series that rooted from Heaven’s Feel, but you may only catch them if you squint. It never explicitly spoils the story.

5. Watch the Heaven’s Feel movies. Only 1 out of the 3 is currently out/coming out internationally in theaters, so I guess just try to watch the first 1 if it is available to you at this point?

Feel free to start the visual novel if you want. In regards to the other series I mentioned, they are optional as well.

If you watch UBW and FZ and feel that there are a lot of unanswered questions, then expect Heaven’s Feel to address those issues. Remember that even though the 3 routes are all different stories, they are written in a way that you don’t get the whole picture until you have completed all three routes (too bad the Fate route anime is completely butchered and unreliable plot-wise. But I think you can manage without it. It’s more of an introduction to the story than anything else.)

Hope you understood what I was saying! Again, please message me if you have any questions or just want to talk about the series with me! I am in absolute hell with this universe so don’t hesitate to talk to me!

[atruththatyoudeny]

Monthly Reads | June 2017

❤ THANK YOU TO ALL WRITERS FOR YOUR HARD WORK AND FOR SHARING YOUR STORIES! ❤ Top 5 + 6 more amazing stories under the cut:

Back To You And Tennessee

by rippedgloves for One Direction Big Bang: Round Five | Walk The Line AU | angst | 1950s | 1960s | drug addiction | alcoholism | homophobia | violence | 57k Louis Tomlinson rises to rock and roll fame at age twenty three and is thrown into a life of luxury and excess, but being on stage isn’t easy for a boy who has always stuck to the side-lines, and Louis struggles to deal with his new fame as he joins the Grand Ole Opry and is sent out on tour with names like Liam Payne and Elvis Presley. His life takes a turn, however, when his childhood role model, Harry Styles, joins them on tour, and the two become closer than two men in the spotlight are allowed to be. - OR, the one where Louis is Johnny Cash and Harry is June Carter

Through Erie Chaos

by MediaWhore for One Direction Big Bang: Round Five | ghost hunters | fantasy | 1920s | supernatural elements | 102k For as long as anyone can remember, Old Hillsbridge Manor has always been believed to be haunted. Everyone in the village agrees and keeps a respectful, fearful, distance. New in town after a bad breakup and an internship that led to disappointment rather than a permanent job, Harry Styles figures taking pictures of the decrepit building could be a great new creative project. Or at least a much-needed distraction while he searches for a job and crashes at his parents’ new house. No one warned him about the apparitions though; about the music, the laughter, the people who flicker and vanish when you call after them, the echoes of a past that should be long gone… Harry has never believed in spirits but even he can admit that there’s something weird going on. What starts as mere curiosity evolves into a full-blown investigation and soon enough, Harry finds himself making friends with an aristocrat from the 1920s and struggling with finding the best way to tell him that he’s dead. The Ghost Hunter AU where Niall lives to prove ghosts are real, Zayn is a skeptical librarian and Harry gets caught up in a century-old mystery and catches feeling in the process.

Little White Lies

by xxSterre | fake/pretend relationship | kid fic (kind of) | 13k "I lied when I got my job. I told them I had a kid so I could leave early 'to pick him up from day care', to take him to doctors appointments and occasionally miss a day 'when he's sick'. Long story short – I'm in too deep. I didn't think this through. Looking to rent a kid for bring your child to work day. Must be a boy aged 4 to 6 with curly hair who plays soccer, essentially he has to look like the stock photo in the frame on my desk. Also must be artistic as the macaroni noodle drawings I made seem a little advanced for someone his age. He also needs to respond to 'my Little Picasso' as that's what my spouse and I call him. Also I will pay extra for someone willing to play the role of my spouse when dropping him off. His name is James, he's named after his grandpa and he's a defense attorney who often brings his work home. You know what, just message me for the details, serious inquiries only. H." Or, the AU based off of that one Craigslist post - how a little white lie takes on an enormous snowball effect, that might accidentally include a Tomlinson too.

Fool's Gold

by tvshows_addict | slow burn | Arnacoeur AU | 55k Leaflet for Over Again Inc. “In relationships, there are three types of people: those who are happy, those who are unhappy but accept it and deal, those who are unhappy and in denial. Handling this last category is our job: we are professional couple breakers. To reach our goal, we use all means necessary.” Or the Arnacoeur AU in which Harry is scheduled to be married to Liam in 10 days and Harry’s mother hires Louis and his team to break them up.

Give It A Little Time

by Rearviewdreamer for 1000 Feelings For Which There Are No Names | Part 2 of Falling for me won't be a mistake | mpreg | 15k After getting a life filled with love that Harry never thought he'd never have, he realizes that there's still room for a little more.

End Game

by alex4968 for One Direction Big Bang: Round Five | Mob AU | Crime | 54k Harry styles is the most feared man in London, notorious for always getting everything he wants. All of that changes when Louis comes around and opens his eyes to a new, beautiful side of the world.

Through Lonely Streets And Neon Lights

by sweetly_disposed | 1920s | forbidden love | secret relationship | homophobia | 25k 1920's era, Great Gatsby inspired. Harry is a poor boy living in the South Village. Every night he watches the North City come alive and longs of crossing the river to be a part of it and escape his dreary life. The infamous Mr Tomlinson lives across the river from Harry. His parties are the stuff of legend; people on both sides know about them, and all Harry wants is a chance to go to one. When fate swings his way and he finds himself in Mr Tomlinson's house, he gets much more than he could ever have bargained for.

Too good to be bad

by Tita | Spy AU | ex-lovers | hate to love | 24k “You’ll never guess who’s here,” Louis rushes out, knowing very well that this is not how it’s supposed to go. “Louis, we should focus on the mission.” “I know, but it’s Harry, Li.” Liam falters for a second. “Training camp, sexual awakening Harry?” Or: Two spies, one mission, zero things left in common between them.

Through A Mirror Dimly

by LadyLondonderry for One Direction Big Bang: Round Five | College AU | enemies to friends to lovers | stalking | violence | 38k Louis Tomlinson, in his third year at university, does not expect nor want the roommate that is being assigned to his room. Harry Styles, in his first year at university, has just been kicked out of one dorm and doesn't want to deal with yet another snobby, rich roommate. They don't get along, and that's just how it is, until circumstances force them to reevaluate.

On the Cover of the Rollin' Stone

by alivingfire for High School AU Challenge | High School AU | punk | road trip | friends to lovers | 11k Five days, three shows. Harry, Louis, Liam, and Niall have been best friends forever, basically, but they’ve only been a band for six months and they’re already going on tour. Well. Liam says they can’t call it a tour because all the shows are within an hour of home and they could pretty easily just drive back and forth but no, Liam is wrong, because they were booked in hotel rooms by their manager (Gemma) and they have a stylist (Lottie) and they’ve even been announced on the venue websites and this is the greatest start in the history of rock n’ roll. Harry, Louis, Liam, and Niall are in a punk band and Louis can't stop writing love songs about Harry, even when Harry has his eye on someone else.

A Word We've Only Heard

by lululawrence for 1000 Feelings For Which There Are No Names | 1950s | homophobia | secret relationship | 6k So, where are you headed?” Liam asked, not wanting to sit in awkward silence for their journey. It was twelve hours to Chicago, and that was far too long to sit and not chat with his fellow passenger in front of him.  “Chicago,” he answered, his blue eyes meeting Liam’s own. “It’s home. Been on the road for quite some time now, it’s the first time I’ll be able to sleep in my own bed in almost a month.” Liam whistled. “You must be pretty excited.” The man gave a soft smile, which made him look younger than Liam initially expected; he might even still be in his twenties. He wondered what kind of a life this man had led to look so tired until he smiled. Or, it's 1951, Harry is the owner of a music shop, and Louis is a traveling salesman making his way back home.

[strongenoughfoundation-blog]

Paper Planes (Lin-Manuel x Reader)

Summary: Soulmate AU where if you throw a paper plane out your window it always makes its way to your soulmate. You can’t write your full name, your location, or any contact info, anything else is fair game. It’s up to fate to bring you together.

Word Count: 1,775

Warnings: Zero proofreading. It’s strictly fluff though so you’re safe here.

A/N: This was such a cute idea and also reminded me of that one Disney short. You know the one. Also, I will jump at any opportunity I can to write sappy love notes and Lin’s messy handwriting. Please don’t ask me about logistics of this, I have no idea what happens if your window is shut and your soulmate throws a plane, I’m just here to write fluff. EPILOGUE ___________________________________

Your parents had told you the story all through your childhood. They would always weave you intricate tales at bedtime about how you might meet your soulmate. Your favorite stories always had a prince playing that role. As you got older the stories evolved from fictitious plots to questions and conversations. 

You received your first letter from him at seven years old. It took you by surprise when the paper plane made of blue construction paper landed on the floor of your bedroom. You scrambled from you bed to scoop it up and inspect it. You unfolded it carefully, flipping it over.

‘ Hi! My name is Lin! ‘

You yelped as if the paper itself had spoken and ran into the living room where your mom was preoccupied with a book. She seemed to notice your panic because her eyes immediately left the pages to study your face.

“They wrote you, didn’t they?” she asked wryly with a twinkle in her eye. You squeaked out a yes, shoving the blue paper towards her. She unfolded it to see the note before chuckling. “Well, are you gonna write them back or not?”

You spent the entire night debating and when your mom came into your room to kiss you goodbye before she left for work she saw you sitting on the floor surrounded in papers. 

“For them or from them?” she asked with an amused smile as she leaned against your doorway.

“For.”

By seventeen you were consistently launching paper planes. Your favorite hobby was to bring your notebook out onto the fire escape and draft letters before folding them just so and releasing them into the air. Lin had become quite the writer. Most days he out wrote you three letters to one. You loved to tease him about it, withholding the fact that you had tucked away every plane you’d ever received from him in a box for safe keeping. Some planes were well worn from the amount of times you had unfolded them to read.

‘ Some day you’ll be sitting with me as I brainstorm ideas for lyrics, until then you’ll have to survive without a melody. ‘ 

You smiled at the verses he had scrawled beneath the note, further convincing yourself that your soulmate was a genius.

You were twenty-one when you thought you had finally figured out a way around the stupid stipulations. He couldn’t tell you where he was but he could tell you all about his university. You circumvented enough you had narrowed it down to what you thought was his school. What you hoped. He couldn’t confirm though but the hints were enough.

‘ Named after John Wesley ‘

‘ Private college ‘

‘ Cardinals ‘

You could work with that. You were no Sherlock Holmes but you didn’t have to be to ask your own college’s councilors what school might fit that criteria. The question earned you a weird look at your specificity but it also got you a name. Wesleyan University. It was only two hours away from NYU - you had opted to stay in the city.

You should’ve known that fate would intervene. It clearly wasn’t your time yet. Maybe if you had paused in all your excitement and realized all the warning signs that you shouldn’t be trying this - losing your keys, your cell phone dying, getting lost while heading out of the city despite driving that same road at least a hundred times - you wouldn’t have had to spend hours waiting for a tow truck to pick up your car. It worked fine the minute they dropped it off at a mechanic back in the city. You had to draft Lin a letter that night and the paper absorbed your frustration in heavy pen strokes and angsty words -

‘ Can’t make it, fate intervened. I’m suddenly convinced our day will never come. ‘

Your twenty-eighth birthday you woke up to three planes waiting for you. Each piece of paper was filled to the brim with long-winded sentences, but your favorite part was that it was written on blue construction paper. Maybe it was a sign. It certainly was the reason you had some pep in your step as you carried on through your day. 

The universe seemed to favor you today and you were elated. It was the perfect temperature out for you to slip on your favorite dress which drew you a sweet compliment from the doorman as you went out into the day. Your favorite coffee shop brewed your coffee just right and with just enough cinnamon, and to top it all off they gave it to you for free. Most importantly, your boss surprised you with a cute cupcake on your desk and insisted you only work half a day - unheard of in your office.

Now you strolled aimlessly down the sidewalk, humming happily to yourself as you enjoyed the rest of your free day. You were saving any birthday plans for the weekend. You murmured a few words under your breath of a song that you just couldn’t get out of your head, your eyes lazily surveying the buildings and people you passed before you screeched to a halt. You heard a huff from behind you as people dodged your abrupt stop but you were too busy staring at the marquee sign with your mouth hanging open.

In The Heights

You had read that name about a thousand times over the past couple years. This couldn’t be right though, you weren’t supposed to just randomly stumble across what you and your soulmate had spent years talking about. You weren’t expecting Lin to waltz into your life on a white horse but you also weren’t expecting to just happen across the theater he worked in after eating a snow cone. 

Do you go inside? Do you come back another day? Were you dreaming this up? You didn’t have any answers, only a plethora of questions. So, you acted impulsively, marched right up to a ticket broker and bought a ticket for tonight’s show. You wished that confidence had stayed with you the rest of the day.

Lin’s show was even more wonderful than you had dreamed it to be. The moment he stepped on stage you knew that you were meant to be there. Your heart was probably beating as loudly as the music. When the show drew to an end you realized you had no plan whatsoever. You stupidly didn’t write Lin to let him know you were gonna be there - you didn’t even know if you could’ve to be fair. So when they took the final bow you just awkwardly stayed in your seat as people filed out.

“Ma’am, do you need any help?” an usher asked as he approached you. Oh boy did you.

“Y-yeah, I’m actually looking to meet Lin. Lin-Manuel? From the play? Like Usnavi.” you clamped your mouth shut realizing you were making a fool of yourself.

“Is he expecting you?” the usher asked, quirking a brow. You probably seemed crazy to him. You probably were crazy.

“He’s not but it’s really important. If you could catch him, he’d know who I am.” you promised and he seemed to debate. Every passing second set you more on edge, he could be leaving right now and you were so set on meeting him tonight.

“I’ll see if I can catch him, what’s your name?” the usher finally said and you breathed a sigh of relief.

“[Y/N].” you offered and he nodded.

“Stay here. I’ll see what I can do.” he left quickly and you glanced around awkwardly, unsure of what to do. You wrung your hands as you stood in front of your seat shifting your weight between your feet. You heard footsteps rushing back onto the stage and you looked up to see Lin still in his costume.

“[Y/N]?” he called breathlessly and you waved before wincing at your awkwardness. This wasn’t how it’s supposed to go, you were supposed to be charming.

“Hi,” you squeaked out in an attempt to make up for it but it was way worse than just the wave. You could feel yourself deflating but any over-analyzing you were doing came to an end when Lin leapt from the stage to the floor below and jogged over to you.

“You’re really here? How are you really here?” Lin asked, taking your hands in his. Despite meeting him for the first time his close proximity felt comfortable and the notion of that didn’t really seem strange to you. This was the person you told everything to after all, he was there for every broken bone, embarrassment, failed test, lost friend, everything.

“I,” you paused trying to figure it out for yourself first. “I just found the theater. I was walking around and I saw the sign for your show and I bought a ticket.”

“You just stumbled across my show?” Lin repeated incredulously and you nodded nervously. Maybe he had wanted a grand gesture. He let out a bark of a laugh before pulling you by your hands to crash into his embrace. “I can’t believe you’re here!”

You woke up the next morning with a huge grin on your face that you couldn’t wipe off even if you wanted to. You and Lin had spent hours together after his show at a nearby diner talking about everything. Despite all the years you had written each other, you still managed to come up with things to talk about. The conversation was so easy and interesting the next thing you knew it was 2am. He walked you back to your apartment and had given you a kiss on the cheek that had lingered until you fell asleep.

You swung your legs to the side of your bed to get out when you noticed a paper plane sitting on the floor of your bedroom.

‘ [Y/N],

It’s only been a couple of hours since I last saw you but I’m missing you already. I don’t know what I did to deserve someone as wonderful as you but I must’ve done something right. Of all the amazing things I’ve been blessed with, you are at the top of the list.

I know you usually spend your Saturdays reading the books you don’t have time to during the week, but maybe I can convince you to meet up with me between shows for coffee? Plus, I’d like a redo of last night, I would’ve played a much better Usnavi if I knew you were there.

Siempre, Lin

P.S. I’m glad you were wrong, our someday did come.

EPILOGUE

Tagged: @overcaffeinated-and-underslept @gratitudejoyandsorrow

[ohmytheon]

Good Men Don't Become Legends (FMA/Fate Zero AU, 11)

[laughs at myself for saying that wouldn’t take 10 years for me to update when I posted the last chapter] Anyways, now that I’ve gotten over that bit of irony… Apologies for taking just that long. No excuses really. I had to finish my Soul Eater/FMA AU fic and then Rogue One took over my life. This chapter was very difficult for me to write. It’s heavily action-centered and a lot of awful no-good, shit happens to characters from an outsider’s perspective. This is also just one huge scene, which was tough, but there was no good points for breaks. Well, I hope you all enjoy this behemoth mess of a chapter!

good men don’t become legends find what you love and let it kill you

Riza runs ahead of them, throwing caution to the wind. She can’t be for certain how long Roy can last fighting against Berserker’s Master on his own in his condition, especially when she has a nasty feeling that the other Mage will know how to dig under Roy’s skin. Roy is made of stone, but he can easily be hurt if the person turns him against himself. She knows this all too well.

She needs to get back to him as soon as possible. Even though she is in this War for Winry, she cannot bear the idea of not fighting by Roy’s side. She doesn’t feel complete without him, like she’s missing a piece of herself. She didn’t even recognize that until the first night they fought together. Of course, she can’t admit this out loud. It sounds too much like a weakness and she knows Edward won’t be happy about it, but it’s the truth.

“Where is that monster?” Edward growls as they pause to look around.

The park isn’t that big, but it’s daunting at night, as if the dark magic surrounding Berserker and his Master have corrupted the place. Everywhere they turn, it looks as if demons might pop out of the shadows. It looks like it was a nightmare dreamed into reality. She waves a hand at the two Masters to stay close to one another while she walks ahead of them, an arrow at the ready in her bow. She feels as taut as the string, like she might rupture at any given moment.

“Do you think he went back to give his Master support?” Winry asks.

At the mention of Berserker’s Master, Edward’s head turns and his eyes lock in the direction of his own Servant, who is battling the other mage. The connection between Edward and Roy is strong, whether they realize it or not. He doesn’t even need to think in order to know where Roy is. A sudden explosion of fire erupts above the treeline, causing Winry to bite her lip and Edward to grit his teeth, but the boy says nothing. He did as Roy told him and there is no time to regret it now that they are hunting another Servant.

That’s what Riza feels the most. She doesn’t have time for this childish yet deadly game. She needs to end… whatever this is with Berserker now.

“I’m disappointed, Berserker!” Riza calls out as she peers through the darkness of the trees. “I thought you would want to fight face-to-face with me instead of playing this hide-and-seek game.” Despite the horrified and confused expressions respectively on Winry’s and Edward’s faces, Riza continues on. She only gets silence from the trees, but she knows he’s there, listening, simmering, eager to show her up. “A real man wouldn’t do this to me. I thought you were different!”

He’s not a real man, of course - he’s a monster parading as Heroic Spirit serving in the Holy Grail War - but he has the ego of one. That she can count on.

A loud crash comes from behind and Riza barely rolls out of the way when Berserker crashes down where she was standing just moments ago, his butcher blade larger than ever before. It cracks through the concrete, causing the street to quake, but she gains her balance with ease and aims at him. However, she stops short of gasping when she catches sight of him.

Berserker is… He’s not what he used to be. Before, he was shorter than her, though squatter and muscular. Now, he is a behemoth, nearly twice her height, snarling through the nose of his mask. His eyes, the same glowing red, are twice as bright and wide, like he can’t close them for all the energy soaring through him. He can wrap one of his hands around her body easily and break her bones just by squeezing.

Edward’s exclamation of, “Holy shit,” is an understatement.

“Do you like what you see?” Berserker asks as he stands up straight and turns to face her. At least his voice is the same, but it sounds at odd with his image now. He shifts his hefty cleaver to his other hand as he stares her down, rage and want mixing with one another until she can’t tell the difference. The stench of his madness is almost overwhelming, rolling off of him in powerful waves that make her grind her teeth. “Who’s a real man now? I don’t see your precious Flame Alchemist anywhere to save you.”

“Berserker,” Riza breathes as she plants a foot back behind her, strengthening her stance as best as she can, “what did your Master do to you?”

“What did he do to me?” Berserker cackles and raises his arms in the air. Moonlight beams off of the metal of his weapon while his muscles flex in what looks like a painful, horrible way. “You mean what did he give me! Endless strength, mana to last me for days, life! I can feel the power and magic flowing through me. It’s…” He shudders in pleasure. “It’s exquisite. If only you could feel it too, my dear, but oh” - he all but giggles - “I can show you. You can feel the power through me.”

The way he says it to her, so lovingly, so madly, it sounds extremely horrific.

In another world, she would try to reason with him, but she knows that would be useless. There is no reasoning with a monstrous madman like Berserker; he’s beyond any logic or empathy. There is only one way to stop Berserker - and that is to put an end to him. She has to kill him. There is the no other way. Riza takes a deep breath and lets the knowledge seep in and embolden her. She can still feel the power of the Command Seal that Winry used on her the first time she and Berserker clashed. She didn’t defeat Berserker then.

She will do what she can to destroy him now.

Berserker lets out a yell and charges towards her, sword held high, his feet thundering against the pavement, but Riza stands her ground even as the world seems to tremble around her. Winry shrieks as Riza steps to the side at the last second, the heavy blade blowing past her by inches so hard that the air blows around her. When it collides with the ground, it sticks and she uses the sword as a stair, stepping onto it like the sharp edges are nothing and spinning to slam her bow into the side of Berserker’s head hard enough to make it snap back. He jerks the cleaver up at the same time that she leaps high into the air and releases two arrows, one that he manages to block, the other which grazes his face, piercing through the metal mask like it’s water and lodging into the ground.

In a matter of seconds, she’s back on the ground as Berserker stumbles backwards and roars in anger and pain, holding the side of his face as black blood spurts out. Even that is corrupted by the dark magic that his Master has imbued him with. She doesn’t give him time to recover or a second to pity him, firing off more bright arrows that appear out of thin air whenever she raises her hand to the string. He spins the sword wildly, deflecting the shots, but she rushes him while he defends himself, vaulting over him and then focusing her energy to deliver an impossibly harsh kick to his back that sends him flying into the trees, breaking them with his weight.

Edward whoops in glee, but Riza grits her teeth as she prepares herself for another onslaught. He’s young. He doesn’t see it yet, but she knows the truth. Berserker is clumsy with such unfamiliar power, but he’s much stronger than her. One solid blow could be the end of her and she knows it.

It’s not enough. She’s not enough. To be honest, she doesn’t know if Roy would be in his current state after what Saber did to him.

“So feisty!” Berserker exclaims as he crawls out of the broken trees. “I like it.”

“Are you sure?” Riza asks coolly. “You don’t seem too pleased.”

Berserker chuckles as he hefts his blade over his shoulder. “My dear, I wouldn’t be pleased if this was easy. I like it when a girl puts up a fight. And you” - he tilts his head towards her - “I knew you would be my biggest challenge.”

Every word wafts over her like slime, making her want to shudder in discomfort. She hates everything that he says and wants more than anything for him to stop, but she knows that he won’t. This is part of his game. He enjoys the taunting, the degrading, the fearmongering. It’s a part of him as much as his blade is, as his Master is. He’s not broken or out of touch; it just is who he is. He feels no guilt. That is what makes him terrifying.

Roy thinks that he himself is a monster, but Riza knows a monster when she sees one. He is nothing like Berserker or his dark mage of a Master.

“But you should know by now,” Berserker adds with a laugh as he brings his cleaver up. “Size isn’t everything!”

He slashes the cleaver in front of him, too far from her for her to even bother moving, but then a black shadow slices through the air towards her. There’s no time for her to move, so she’s forced to block it with her bow, hoping against hope that it won’t shatter. The blow is tremendous, tossing her at least ten feet back and creating such a heavy shockwave that it knocks Winry and Edward off their feet. Her hands and wrists ache from withstanding the hit, but while the bow vibrates in her grip, it’s still intact, shimmering in defiance.

If that black shadow hit her, she isn’t so sure that she’d be as well off as her bow.

Berserker doesn’t give her any time to recover, bearing down on her as he creates another black shadow with his weapon. All she can do is lift her bow again in defense, but the shock of both the shadow and his blade is enough to cause her to buckle and she cries out as her knee slams hard enough into the ground to break the concrete.

“Riza!” Winry shouts, leaping forward to help, but Riza grits her teeth and shakes her head, causing her Master to stop short. Her blue eyes are wide, filled with mixture of ferocity and fear. She’s willing to jump in, even if it means throwing herself in the line of danger, but the idea of Berserker coming in close contact with Winry burns Riza to her core. She won’t allow this monster to get anywhere near her. Luckily, Edward has enough sense to drag Winry back, but even he looks ready to fight, despite his Servant not being the one involved.

Roy.

The flames rising in the dark behind her. They’re far away, but Riza can feel the heat if she pictures the fire strong enough. Explosions echo around them even now, some big enough to shake the ground below them despite the distance. They give her comfort. If there’s still fire, then he’s still alive.

Berserker moves to deliver a powerful kick, but Riza bends and pulls her bow down, throwing him off balance and giving her enough time to roll to the side. She slides away from him, on one knee, and takes aim again just as he lets off another shadow. This time, she’s ready for him though and fires off a round of arrows in rapid succession. The first arrow, instead of disintegrating when the shadow hits it, explodes in a fiery burst of light, actually cutting through the shadow like it’s solid and allowing the three other arrows to shoot forward unimpeached. They pierce Berserker in between his armor right where his arm connects with his body.

The howl of pain that echoes into the air drowns out the clanging sound his sword makes when it hits the ground. He rips the arrows out, his hand sizzling as they burn him, and blood pours out of the wounds, hot and unforgiving. Worse though is the way his arm dangles limply at his side, his fingers twitching with effort. It’s not entirely useless, she knows, but it’ll be impossible for him to pick up his over-sized weapon now with his dominant hand. The moment he realizes it, he bellows furiously once more.

How do you like me now? Riza thinks harshly, but she doesn’t say it out loud. She’s not like Roy, who uses words to get into the heads of his competition, or Berserker, who enjoys getting underneath his victim’s skins. She doesn’t need to speak her thoughts for people to know them; she uses her arrows.

“Oh, you’re good,” Berserker growls, “better than good!”

“I wouldn’t be a very good legend if I wasn’t,” Riza points out as she stands up straight.

Picking up his weapon with his left hand, Berserker swings it casually in a circle like a fan, as if testing it, and then glances back at her. “But are they?”

The slash of his sword is ugly and short, but it sends another shadowy blast out of it, not towards Riza, but in Winry and Edward’s direction. They duck in time, Edward dragging Winry to the ground, and shadow passes over their heads, slicing through the trees behind them. Riza screams wordlessly as she rushes forward and lets off another volley of arrows, not thinking straight, all of which he blocks, but just barely.

When the next shadow rockets towards them, Winry casts a large defensive shield, very similar to the one Roy cast over her to defend her from Saber’s surprise attack a few nights ago, but when the shadow collides with hers, it doesn’t hold nearly as well. Both magical shield and shadow explode in a mess of smoke and sparks and the two Masters are sent sprawling. All Riza can see is black, hopeless and terrible.

Before Berserker can attack them again, she lets off another arrow, lower this time, so that it digs deep into the meat of his calf. This arrow is different though, as a rope appears attached to the shaft and leads to her hand. As Berserker staggers at the pain, Riza uses her momentum to slide through his legs, twisting the rope around him, and jerks as hard as she can, bringing the monster of a Servant down. He lands with a heavy thud, shaking the ground and causing leaves to fall from the trees.

But it only seems to enrage him further. He roars, more beast than man at this point, and grabs the rope, not even bothering with the arrow still piercing him, and rips it towards him. Not expecting the reaction, Riza did not let go of the rope attached to her arrow in time, and pitches forward. She digs the heel of one of her feet into the ground to try to gain balance, but tears through the concrete before losing it. He snatches her bow in one hand and grasps her body in a firm grip with other, trapping one of her arms at her side, and slams her into the ground, knocking the wind out of her chest as her head bounces against the ground.

Her vision blurs for a moment, but when it comes back, Berserker is leaning over her, smoke coming out of the nostrils of his mask as he breathes, his red eyes glowing manically. She can smell the blood on him, so powerful that it makes her gag. This is death at its worst. It reminds her of the battlefields during the Mage Wars after Roy was put on the frontlines. Though the mask hides his face, she knows that he’s leering down at her, so close to her face that she turns her head away involuntarily. Her bow lies far from her reach, having been tossed aside like it is nothing. Every time she wiggles in his grasp, he only squeezes harder and she gasps in an attempt to breathe.

“I’ve wanted to hold you since the moment I saw you,” Berserker tells her in a fevered whisper.

She only growls furiously in response. This is not holding. She thinks of waking up in Roy’s arms at Ed’s house, just a few days ago – the warmth of his body, the gentleness of his touch, the comforting sound of his beating heart next to hers. That was holding. Something so delicate and intimate yet stronger than anything in the world. This is a twisted abomination, a reflection of what Berserker truly is.

Berserker chuckles. “Oh, my dear, what is an archer without her bow?”

“An arrow,” Riza snarls, “straight and true.”

As if a reaction to her words, a golden arrow of light materializes in her free hand and she jams it hard and deep into one of the eye sockets of Berserker’s mask. There’s a terrible sizzling sound as steam spills out from arrowed the embedded arrow and he yowls, letting go of her and stumbling backwards as he attempt to jerk it out. She gasps, sucking in air greedily, and tries to scramble in the direction of her bow, but he sweeps out a hand wildly and nearly takes her out by accident.

Blocked from retrieving her bow, she moves to stand in front of Winry and Edward, protecting them, when Berserker pulls out the arrow and throws it into the trees. Blood spills out of the socket, staining his mask with black streaks. Two more arrows appear in her hands and she spins them around, wielding them like daggers. The two Masters also take fighting positions, even if they are terrified of fighting a very furious and deranged Servant.

“I will enjoy cutting you in half!” Berserker exclaims, picking his weapon up with his good hand, the one that held her down.

Riza readies herself, even as her ribs ache horribly in protest. At least two of them are broken, possibly three, snapped in Berserker’s crushing grip. But she won’t give up and neither will Winry or Edward. They can’t. If they do, all is lost. It is her sacred duty to put down monsters like Berserker, not just to protect and serve her Master in this War. What kind of Heroic Spirit would she be if she lost sight of what made her one in the first place? No, she will fight until there is nothing left in her and then she will fight more.

“If he pins me down again, run,” Riza tells the two children behind her. Because that’s what they are. Yes, they are mages in their own right and they are Masters in the Holy Grail War, but they are children and this is her fight to bear, win or lose.

Edward scoffs. “Like hell–”

“You cannot win the War if you are dead!” Riza snaps, not looking back at either of them. “Do not argue with me!”

Despite the fact that Edward’s natural reaction to everything is to argue, he does not speak a word and she knows that he will heed her words. Winry is burning silently behind her, determined to fight until the end. And this very well could be for the two of them. Riza is weak. She’s injured and left with only her bones to fight with. Still, she’s not afraid.

Some might say that she is born to die in battle.

And then, somewhere above them, five daggers pierce the ground in a perfect circle surrounding Berserker, each knife standing up straight, the hilts pointing home to the sky. Before anyone can process what is happening, blue lightning crackles around Berserker, connecting with the daggers, before shooting up and electrocuting the large Servant in a brilliant fashion. Riza has to throw an arm over her eyes to shield herself from the light, only catching glimpses of Berserker twitching violently until the light dies down and he collapses to his knees, smoking and charred like a piece of meat.

“Wow, that looked extraordinarily painful!” a familiar voice cheers from the side.

Riza blinks in shock when she recognizes Lancer of all people, lazily swinging a sword with one hand while he leans against the other, its tip gleaming against the concrete. His Master, looking so small next to him, has both of her hands raised, five daggers carefully held between her fingers in each of them. She threw the knives. They came for her.

No, they came for Berserker and his Master. However little and young she is, more so than Ed and Winry, she’s an incredibly powerful mage, strong enough to find Roy through all his tricks. She too must’ve felt whatever Berserker’s Master was doing and couldn’t ignore it.

“You have lousy timing!” Edward yells, his face already getting red with aggravation. Lancer really knows how to get under his skin.

Indeed, the other Servant looks positively gleeful when he responds, “I don’t know. It looks like excellent timing to me.” He cocks his head towards Berserker, who is trying to pull himself to his feet, somehow swelling up even further through his pain and rage. “Nasty fellow, isn’t he?”

“What are you doing here, Lancer?” Riza demands. She can’t fight them both. While Berserker is clearly more injured than her, she doesn’t know what his Master might’ve done to him. It looks as if the more pain he’s in, the bigger he gets, his anger causing him to get stronger. He will burn out faster like this, but not before he crushes her like a bug if he gets a hold of her. Meanwhile, Lancer is fresh, uninjured, and has a Master that seems quite capable in battle herself. Riza knows terrible odds when she sees them.

Lancer shrugs. “It was rude of me to ambush you like that with Saber. I wasn’t expecting Assassin to show up too.” That can’t be it. Another explosion behind them, this one with flames rising high and close enough for them to feel the heat, drags his Master’s attention away and she zeroes in on them like they’re a target. “And a few people aren’t playing by the rules. It’s time to take out the trash, don’t you think?”

“Finish Berserker,” his Master orders, her voice high and childish. It’s a stark contrast with the intense look on her face. This is a child that has seen and been through more than most three times her age. “I will deal with the mage.”

“Not on my watch,” Edward growls, stepping forward.

The little girl fixes him with a sharp, reprimanding look that causes him to actually halt and blink. “I am not about to fight Caster on my own, you short-minded idiot.”

Edward sputters. “Who are you  calling short?”

“That’s what you take offense to?” Winry mutters.

“Pleasant, isn’t she?” Lancer says cheekily.

To the side, Berserker begins to huff as he straightens up. His clothes tear as his muscles bulge out, dark veins twisting like veins up his ashy skin. The arm that he damaged seems to be working again as he picks up his large cleaver with both hands, either because of the mana of so many innocent victims coursing through him or because of the adrenaline. He has handled pain far better than expected, almost ignoring every wound after it is inflicted. What did his Master do to him?

“Lancer,” his Master says warningly, and that’s all she has to say.

The Servant nods his head and kicks the flat of the sword he was leaning on. It spins in the air before he catches it and crashes the hilts of each of his swords together. There is a flurry of sparks and then he pulls, revealing a dual-edged lance in his hands instead of two separate blades. He twirls it in a whirlwind circle before it snaps into place in one hand and he crouches down in a pounce. “Are you ready to end this, Archer?”

Riza hasn’t fought alongside anyone except for Roy in a long time, but for a brief moment, Lancer reminds her of Havoc, one of the two people in the camp to know her secret during the Mage Wars, probably the only man she ever trusted before Roy. Laughing and joking one minute, serious and deadly in the next. She can work with that.

For the first time in this war, Riza smiles, but there is no warmth in it. “With pleasure.”

When Berserker raises his weapon and charges towards Lancer, the smaller Servant leaps gracefully out of the way. As Lancer seemingly taunts Berserker, filled with so much more speed and agility than Berserker and Riza combined, Riza takes the opportunity to snatch up her bow again. The second it’s in her hands, she feels a pleasant hum vibrate her, as if the bow is as happy as her to be reunited. She catches a glimpse of Lancer’s little Master tearing through the woods towards Roy and Berserker’s Master and then Edward’s hesitation.

“Go,” Riza tells him.

Edward frowns. “But he said–”

“Never mind what he said,” Riza interrupts him, far gentler than what the situation calls for. It’s what Edward needs though – reassurance yet firmness. He’s a mage, but he’s younger than he realizes. Even Roy was hesitant at his age, despite his obvious strength and natural talents. “You’re the Master, are you not?”

Her words go through Edward like a shock to the system. He jerks upright and a hardened expression falls over his face. He takes a breath and follows after the girl while Winry stays behind with her. Yes, he is the Master and Roy is the Servant. She knows how much Roy hates that – how he hates to be under the control of anyone that isn’t himself – but it’s the truth. He must accept it if he’s going to win this War. Riza did so immediately, but then, she has always been good at following.

Now that it’s two against one, the fight changes drastically. Even with Berserker amped up by his Master’s dark magic and the stolen mana and od from their victims, he’s hurt and acting out impulsively. Lancer remains uninjured and bolstered by his Master. He’s simply too quick for Berserker to even come close. It looks to Riza as if the young-looking Servant is actually toying with Berserker, spinning around him, knicking him here and there with his blades, leaping over him, all with a small but serious smile on his face.

With him distracted by Lancer, Riza is able to take aim and her arrows dig in the back of his knees, causing him to buckle once more. Berserker swings out wildly, narrowly missing Lancer who dodges it, but Riza can tell he could’ve moved faster if he wanted to. He’s playing . It’s a different sort of playing than Berserker’s madness. It’s taunting and cold. Lancer knows that he’s better and wants Berserker to know it too, wants to drive him further into his insanity. It makes him even more reckless and prone to stupid mistakes in the fight.

“Come on now!” Lancer taunts. “Show me that heroic spirit of yours!”

Berserker is beyond words now, merely bellowing like a beast, and slashes his weapon in the air. The black shadow is larger than before, racing towards them with a vicious speed. Riza ducks under it while Lancer leaps over it and lands gracefully on a tree branch.

“Now that’s more like it!” he exclaims. Another black shadow cuts the tree he’s perched in down, but he jumps from the branch and actually lands on Berserker’s shoulders before vaulting off and slicing his lance up so that the blade cuts a line up Berserker’s back.

Just when Riza thinks that Berserker is close to being done, bent over his sword on his knees, something foul and dark ripples in the air around them, causing both Lancer and her to pull back. It’s… She doesn’t know how to describe it, except that everything in the air feels wrong, slightly out of order. If she was a mage, she might be able to describe it better, but neither she nor Lancer know much about magic. That’s Roy’s area of expertise. Winry, for all her talents, is still learning.

Black shadows burst out of Berserker’s back, at first flailing around like tentacles, reminding her of Assassin’s shadows. They’re not the same though, not as solid or controllable. It’s ugly and wrong. When he stands up though, there is a bright light surrounding his weapon and Riza’s breath hitches in her chest. It’s the same light that nearly took them out in the car. Can he pull off a Noble Phantasm again in this state so soon? It doesn’t matter; they can’t risk it.

Berserker leaps high in the hair, the black shadows now flapping like shapeless wings, raising his cleaver up high above his head. Lancer digs his feet in and bursts forward in a blur, jumping up in the air so suddenly that it forms a perfect ninety degree angle. The two Servants rise in the air, Berserker’s weapon glowing brightly, a horrible contrast to the darkness surrounding him, and the skin on Lancer’s arms and skins turning a coal black.

Riza doesn’t give out a warning. She raises her bow, aims true, and shoots. The arrow shoots off like a rocket into the dark sky, speeding towards them in a deadly line, light streaking behind it. Right before it hits Lancer, he snatches it out of the air with his bare hand without looking, just as he did the last time they met. He smiles grimly just as Berserker begins to bring his weapon down and jams it through Berserker’s chest. The arrow, imbued with magic, pierces through the metal like it’s cloth.

Lancer kicks off of Berserker as the other Servant drops his weapon uselessly and struggles to pull the arrow out of his chest. It does no good. When the two land, Lancer on his feet and Berserker on his back, the aftershock of the crash is so powerful that it nearly blows Riza off balance. Luckily, she positioned herself in front of Winry so that Riza herself takes most of the blow and the two of them stay on their feet. Berserker claws at his chest, but the arrow sinks in further. Light begins to peek out from the weeping wounds on his body until he is heaving, his body jerking and twitching in an ugly manner.

Turning quickly, Riza throws her arms around Winry, pulling the young girl into her chest and using her body as a shield. The light burns Berserker from the inside out until all the darkness surrounding him is eaten away and he lets out a pained, almost frightened cry the second before light explodes out of his body, turning the world white for a moment. It burns hot, but not painfully so, not to Riza at least. It’s her light, after all, that burned every last bit of corruption out of his body and destroyed him.

When the light dies down, Riza slowly lets go of Winry and surveys the area. There is nothing left of Berserker except for the shimmering remains of his spirit dissolving in the air. Lancer scratches the back of his head as he examines the area with a hint of curiosity, his lance propped up at his side. His skin, she notes, is back to normal, his fingers back to normal. Her arrow didn’t burn him this time when his skin was changed. That’s both peculiar and dangerous.

“I would’ve killed for some fireworks like that back in my day,” Lancer says thoughtfully.

However, before Riza can think to thank him or return to Roy, the ground begins to shake again. This time, it’s more like an earthquake. All of them throw out their hands to balance themselves, though Lancer seems to ride the rumble easily. When stone walls begin to erupt around them though, trapping them, even he looks wary and ready to take flight. Winry runs to one of the walls, pressing her hands against it, but pulls her hands back and shakes her head.

A woman steps out of the shadows, the same Master that threatened them at the temple where the Holy Grail would be summoned. It feels like a lifetime ago, but it couldn’t have been two weeks. So much has happened since then. Riza feels like another person; she feels centuries older. More tired, as well. She remembers the size and strength of the cold woman’s Servant; he hadn’t needed to be bolstered by dark magic to get there.

“I wouldn’t bother,” she says callously. “I strengthened those walls myself. They’re impenetrable.”

Lancer considers them for a second, looking decidedly unimpressed, but his hands twitch as he folds his arms across his chest. That’s when Riza realizes it: he’s not looking at the wall itself, but in the direction of his Master, who he is blocked off from. Everyone else is with their Masters. They’re all protective of their Masters, as they are their Servants, but Lancer seems especially so with his. She’s so young and innocent-looking.

“Thank you for getting rid of Berserker,” the woman tells them, not sounding a bit gracious. “I’ve never liked dealing with the trash myself.” She snaps her fingers and her Servant appears, his bare, muscled chest almost sparkling in the moonlight. This causes Lancer to raise an eyebrow finally. “But it’s time to thin the competition. Rider!”

The large man slams his fists together, his stone gloves sparking, and flexes his muscles. It’s a show, both strange and intimidating. He’s built not unlike Berserker was when corrupted with magic, but this is all Rider. One direct hit from him would knock any of them out. In her weakened state, Riza knows that she won’t be able to take him on; her best bet is to escape, but she can’t leave Winry behind either.

“If I were you, Lancer,” the woman says, “I would return to your Master. Who knows what might happen to her while pinned against Caster and Berserker’s Master? They’re both murderers.”

She smiles, the kind of smile that says she knows she’s right. It’s probably what Lancer is thinking right now. The Flame Alchemist was not known for his kindness during the Mage Wars; he was known for ridding himself of any obstacle that stood in his way of victory. Lancer’s little Master is one of those obstacles now. And Riza is one of Lancer’s. She’s wounded. Having helped her take care of Berserker, whatever debt he may have felt towards her was now paid in full. He could leave Riza to be cast down and it would be of no harm to him or his conscience.

This was War. There could only be one victor.

In the end, Lancer doesn’t have to make a decision. A loud explosion rocks them, Riza once again using her body to shield Winry as rocks pelt her. The woman throws up a shield, somewhat carelessly, but it defends her well as Rider knocks any debris aside with his fists. Lancer dodges the bits of stone flying towards him.

When Riza looks up, she has to refrain from gasping. There is Roy, dust settling around him, standing in a hole she knows he created in the wall. That’s not what causes her heart to leap in her throat. Blood slicks the side of his face, along with sweat and dirt, and there are cuts in his robes. Even worse is the cold look in his eyes. She knows, somehow, that he gave up a part of himself to get here. He was hurt before they came to this battle. She can only imagine what pain has been inflicted upon him now.

Edward stands behind him, looking both fierce and somewhat dazed. He remains uninjured, but there is a strangely unsettled look in his golden eyes. It doesn’t fit his normal, steadfast demeanor. Lancer’s little Master darts in between them and rushes to Lancer’s side. It almost looks as if he stops himself from picking her up, but instead moves to stand slightly in front of her. He lets her briefly touch his wrist and stills himself.

“Impenetrable, you say?” Lancer queries, cocky even now.

Roy gazes at the wall dispassionately, even more unimpressed than Lancer. “Amature magic, at best.”

Rider’s Master snarls like a wolf. “You’re weak, Caster. I could kill you myself.”

“And you’re alone,” Roy counters. Even now, Riza wants to join his side, but she keeps herself in front of Winry as Roy steps forward. Edward does not follow him, but instead returns to Winry and Riza. It makes Roy look like a man fighting an army by himself.

“Oh?” the woman says. “You think so?”

“Assassin is a terrible ally,” Roy tells her. “You’re partners now, but only until you’re no longer useful.”

Out of nowhere - no, out of shadows that appear in thin air, a trick of the eyes - Assassin appears. He looks comically small standing next to Rider, nothing more than a mere schoolboy. He’s the same height as Lancer’s Master, but somehow manages to look even more childish than her. His eyes though – those are not the eyes of a child. They’re the eyes of a cold-blooded killer.

“The same could be said of you,” Assassin points out in his boyish voice. He smiles, a child’s smile, a murderer’s smile. It’s jarring. “How long before you tire of the boy, hm?”

Edward stiffens, but says nothing. Neither does Roy for that matter. He doesn’t react at all, which speaks volumes to her. She knows what that means and it’s an uncomfortable thought. He’s been thinking of how to get out. The leash tugging on his collar, the Command signals on Edward’s hands, must burn and itch. It’s too dangerous though. A untethered Servant could do serious damage on the world, even someone like Roy whose intentions are good. Were good.

“Berserker has been defeated,” Assassin notes. “Where is his Master? They can still be a problem in this War, even without a Servant.”

“Dead,” is all Roy says in a flat voice and a cold chill runs down Riza’s spine. That is not the voice of the man she fell in love with. Is this who he became after she died? Was it a part of him all along and she was just blind to it?

Assassin chuckles, but there is a pleased look on his face. It’s what he would’ve done. Best take a Master out of the equation completely. There is something else to it though. “You’re progressing along nicely, Caster, faster than I expected. Father will be happy.”

“Spare me with bullshit about your Master,” Roy snaps. “I’ve got a Master already; I don’t need another.”

“Do you really think you’re in the position to fight this?” Rider’s Master questions.

“Yes,” Roy says in a quiet, dangerous tone. There’s a fire in his eyes now, one that Riza doesn’t recognize. It’s feverish, manic, vaguely reminding her of Berserker, which catches her off guard. What is this? “I could kill you. I could end you all right now.”

A sharp look passes between Assassin and Rider’s Master. It almost looks like they’re wary. Roy ended the Mage Wars. Roy broke the enemy single-handedly. How? If he was strong enough to do it then, why didn’t he do it before when she was alive? What did he do? What did he become?

I have plenty of blood on my hands as it is, the memory of Roy’s voice whispers in her mind. A little more won’t hurt.

Rider steps forward first. “Flame Alchemist–”

Roy cuts him off with a fireball, which Rider actually punches, the flames dissipating around him. “I am tired!” Another fireball. “I am sick of this!” And then another and another, each one stronger than the last, until Rider can no longer uses his fists and is forced to bring up a wall shielding him, which causes Roy to snarl and make an ugly cut his hand in the air in front of him. A line of fire, so precise and thin like a knife, cuts the stone wall in half like it’s nothing. “I don’t care who you are. You know who I am and I will end this!”

She sees it happen before it does. The scene plays out in her mind in a flash, but it feels like a lifetime, like it’s already happened. And it has. But centuries ago, back in their time. Roy, at the end of things, lost in darkness, rage curling around him and allowing nothing else in, terrifying and incredible and awful. He ended things then and he will end things now. Brought back into the world by the Holy Grail, who knows what he is capable of? Who knows of how powerful he actually is?

He will end this, just as he says, but the price is too much.

Fire swirls around them, licking the air hungrily, lashing out at them. All of the other Servants prepare their defenses. Shadows twist around Assassin, but they’re almost burned out by the light of Roy’s flames. Rider’s Master shields herself as Rider stands in front of her. Black skin creeps up over Lancer’s body until he is completely covered, even his face, making him look like a creature; he bends over his Master and wraps his arms around her, shielding her with his body and leaving himself entirely exposed.

The flames are too much for Riza even. She can barely see in the flames, barely stand the heat of them. It feels like she’s cooking in her armor. All she can see is Roy, looking terrible and beautiful. This is him. This is his magic. It’s a thing of wonder but also of terror.

Fire is death as much as it is life and he is fire.

Tears pricking her eyes, whether because of the brightness and heat of the flames or something else, Riza raises her bow and aims an arrow – but not at the enemy. Instead, she points it directly at Roy, at the man she loves, but it’s not him. This isn’t him. It can’t be. “Stop!” she shouts. She will shoot him. She has that right – she has always had that right since he first appointed her the Captain of the Old Guard. If he was to ever lose control, she was to put him down. She doesn’t want to - every fiber in her screams against it and for the first time she trembles while taking aim - but she will. For him. “Roy, STOP!”

It’s only a second, but when Roy doesn’t look back at her, she knows. Her heart shatters.

He won’t stop.

Please, something in her begs as she stares at him through tears, but the word won’t come out. The flames burn it away. Please.

“Caster!” Edward screams from behind. He’s lost in the fire, standing somewhere in the middle between Riza and Roy. “Stand down!” For a moment, the fires flicker and Riza can see. Roy is still focused on Assassin and Rider, but his jaw tightens as he tries to ignore Edward. “I said, stand DOWN!” Even now, Roy won’t look at him, but his rigid body begins to shake as he fights. Sweat beads across Edward’s face, but he doesn’t stop. He raises a hand, the Command Signals glowing against his skin. “I am your Master, and you will listen to me, Caster !”

A gush of air explodes around them. Riza can’t tell if it’s from the Command Signal or from Roy that causes the flames to be blown out, but they disappear in the wind. Roy gasps like it’s been ages since he last breathed and collapses to his knees, bleeding hands clutched to his chest. He doubles over, nearly toppling, but manages to hold himself up, trembling with effort. Riza remembers the feeling of a Command Signal being used on her; it was strange and overpowering, but it hadn’t been painful. Then again, she did not fight it like Roy did.

When she looks around, Riza is relieved to find that Assassin, Rider, and his Master are all gone. Likely, they left as soon as the flames vanished, deciding to make an attempt another time. Riza isn’t certain why. They are practically defenseless now. Perhaps, whatever schemes they concocted for Roy, they can not use him broken like this in such a way. To be honest, Riza doesn’t know what to think of him now. She isn’t afraid of him – she could never be – but this is… This is painfully visceral.

All of them are standing silently in shock, even Lancer, who slowly returns to normal with the exception of his hands. Edward is huffing and glaring as furiously as Roy’s flames, a look of contempt covering his face. Winry likely doesn’t know what to say. She’s been so hopeful this entire time. To see Roy like this, a Heroic Spirit on their side, is very unsettling.

Without warning, Lancer’s Master strides towards Roy – and then slaps him across his face.

Everyone jerks in response. Edward jumps, the contempt leaving immediately, while Winry squeaks and Lancer actually chokes. He rushes forward, ready to sweep her out of Roy’s reach, but she holds out a hand and stops him cold. Roy blinks in surprise, his gaze meandering until it finally settles on the girl’s face and the realization that a child hit him washes over him.

“ You ,” the little Master seethes, simmering with disappointment, “you know better than this. You are better than this! I did not grow up hearing stories of the Flame Alchemist’s magic to see a man who is not worthy of wielding his own power.” She doesn’t strike him again, but her words are like a slap in the face. Roy actually recoils. In a way, this young mage reminds Riza of back when Roy was her father’s apprentice and learning magic. It feels as if she’s scolding him like a teacher would. “You would sink to their level? You would throw yourself into the pit?”

Roy rubs his face with a shaky hand, accidentally smearing blood across it. “I…”

“Do you know what is in that darkness?” she demands and then throws her hands in the air. “Nothing! There is nothing! If you go there, even if you win this War, the Holy Grail will only see darkness and will give you nothing in return. It can only give you what you are made of! Is that what you want?”

He scowls at her, looking more like himself, boyish even with his years on her. “No, it’s not.”

“Then act like the mage I was told you are,” she tells him, voice filled with disgust, before turning away from him and stomping back over to Lancer’s side. Her Servant looks torn between horror and amusement. Edward looks plain perplexed.

Gathering his Master in his arm, Lancer tips his lance to them. “I’ll, ah, leave you to discuss things.” Instead of using the hole that Roy created earlier, he scales up the wall with ease. Impenetrable or not by anyone besides Roy, Lancer was never in fear of being trapped by the walls Rider created. They weren’t closed off at the top.

Riza turns back to Roy, more hesitant than she has ever felt towards him. Edward won’t go anywhere closer to him. She can see the two mages closing themselves off from one another and it hurts her soul. Edward turns and stomps away while Roy sighs and hangs his head, his entire body going limp in defeat. After nodding to Winry, she watches her Master follow after Edward and then Riza tentatively makes her way towards Roy.

She almost shot him, she recalls dizzily. She almost killed him.

When she reaches him, Riza hesitates, but then reaches out to put a hand on Roy’s shoulder. Immediately, he leans into her touch, turning his head so that his cheek presses against her. He’s warmer than ever before, like his fire was burning him from the inside as her arrow had done to Berserker. His hands clench into fists on his thighs as he tries to steady his breathing, like he wants to cry but refuses to do so. She wishes he would. It’s not healthy to hold everything in, as he has done for all his life. It comes out in the worst of ways.

“I thought I lost you,” Riza tells him.

“You did,” Roy sighs, “for a moment.”

It hurts them both for him to admit such a thing. It’s a weakness. She doesn’t want to admit that Roy is capable of losing himself, as he’s always been so strong in her eyes, but with power as great as his, it’s all too tempting to let the magic take over. It has a lure of its own that she has never understood or felt. As strong of a mage as he is, it’s only worse for him. Magic takes its toll on the users in different ways. She wishes she could help him. She thought she could before, but now… Now she isn’t so sure. Maybe the Holy Grail twisted them in some way, took their greatest strengths and weaknesses and transformed them into something else, as they were made stronger.

“Maybe it’s a good thing then – to have a Master,” Roy says. “Maybe I need to be leashed.”

“Not leashed,” Riza says gently, bending down to his level, “tethered.”

Roy opens his eyes and peers at her blearily. “It used to be you.”

“This War has changed many things,” Riza replies. Her hand slides down from his shoulder to his hands. She can tell it hurts him to grasp her hand, but he does so anyways. She ignores the heat of his wet blood coating her palm. “But I can still be that to you. Perhaps you just need more. We’re not really human, are we?”

“No,” Roy says, “we aren’t.”

Not monsters, but not human either. They are something else. Heroic Spirits. Legends in the flesh. It’s surreal to think of it so plainly. And they thought they could live normally in the moments in between.

“What do we do now?” Roy asks her.

“We go home,” Riza answers. It’s not nearly a good enough response, but it’s all she has. Every inch of her body aches, mind and soul alike. She needs to rest. Roy looks fit to topple over. She’s not sure how long he can manage before returning into his incorporeal state.

Still, he nods his head and gets to his feet without much help from her. Maybe his exhaustion is more mental than physical, although his body is certainly wounded enough. The two of them walk through the park in silence, their arms around each other as they help one another move forward. With each step, Riza can’t help but feel all the sharp pains in her body.

By the time they make it back to the car, Winry and Edward are already inside, sitting on opposite sides and not looking at one another. The sight cuts Riza slightly. She helps Roy inside and gets in herself. The car ride is surreal in itself after everything they went through. It’s jarringly normal. Tense silence permeates the car, but Riza is too tired to do anything else but focus on the road. She thinks of Alphonse waiting for their return and how he’ll get into a frenzy over their injuries.

Home. When did the little house begin to feel like that to her? When was the last time she ever felt it?

The lights are off in the house when they pull into the driveway. All of them are battered from the fight, broken and bone tired. It’s dark and Riza has just enough awareness in her to keep a lookout as they shuffle inside. Roy nearly stumbles when he walks through the doorway, but catches himself with Winry’s help. He pulls away from her quickly after a sharp look from Edward and then waits for Riza to come inside.

“Al?” Edward calls out. So normal, so simple. To fight in war and then come home right after. It doesn’t feel right. She never got to return home during the Mage Wars. She died before that could happen – before she could make a place feel like home with Roy, as he promised they would. “Al, we’re back!”

“Sh, he could be asleep,” Winry hisses, nudging him in the side.

“Al is a worrywort,” Ed snaps, but without any heat. He’s too tired. “He wouldn’t just fall asleep.” He moves around the house, flicking on lights, and calls out again. “Al!”

No response. It’s eerily quiet. The only sound in the house comes from then. Despite her exhaustion, Riza feels an uneasiness building inside of her again. They all begin to search the house in earnest now, feet dragging, voices calling out for the younger Elric, but there is nothing but themselves. It’s too late for him to have gone out and it was too dangerous besides. The house was the safest place to stay due to all the protective enchantments surrounding it.

Riza steps outside into the backyard the moment Edward freezes. He’s standing unnaturally still, like he’s ready to pitch forward over a cliff even though he’s standing on flat ground. The small garden that Alphonse tends to carefully is in front of him. His face is milky white and his eyes are wide with fear. She’s never seen him look so openly afraid before, not even when Roy almost lost control just an hour ago. When Riza reaches him, she sees what stopped Edward cold and her mind comes to a screeching halt.

Alphonse’s wheelchair, turned over and still, trampling the garden.

Having noticed their absence from inside the house, Roy walks up to them. “What are you–?” He also freezes when he spots the wheelchair. Winry gasps, having appeared after him, and presses both of her hands to her mouth. It’s one thing to know that innocent people are being involved in the War; it’s another to know that specific person, to care for them, to love them.

Besides this War, Alphonse is all that Edward has.

Slowly, Roy bends down and picks up a piece of paper that Riza didn’t notice lying on the wheelchair. She was too busy staring at the object. It looks wrong unoccupied by Alphonse, like it doesn’t belong. Whatever is on the paper causes Roy’s eyes to narrow and he nearly burns it in his hands. Instead he thrusts it out in disgust and she takes it from him, watching as he stalks away to the corner under a tree, one hand worrying at the bottom of his face as the other clenches and unclenches in barely checked rage.

Riza glances down at the paper and feels her blood turn to ice in her veins.

Return what is mine and I will return what is yours.

It doesn’t take a genius to immediately who this note is from and what it means. A ransom note from Assassin’s mysterious Master, Father: Roy in exchange for Alphonse.

Edward snatches the paper out of her hands, staring down at it like it will tell him exactly where Alphonse is. When Winry moves to comfort him, he shrugs away from her, throws the note to the ground, and storms inside. It’s his brother. Edward thought he would do anything to win this War, but allow his brother to come to harm or be sacrificed…

It’s too much. This War asks too much of them all.

Riza glances at Roy. She thought she knew what he was capable of. She isn’t so sure after tonight. Winry takes her hand and Riza looks down at her, trying to appear reassuring but knowing that nothing she can say or do right now will be of use. The helpless look on Winry’s face almost causes her to buckle. She thinks of how she almost shot Roy, how she helped kill Berserker, of the empty wheelchair. She isn’t sure of what she’s capable of anymore.

[ruthlessbookfish]

Have a Heart by Jodi Watters

 November 9

My Review

Have a Heart was a funny story, with some angst sprinkled in. It never got too angsty, for me. Tessa and her Ex had such a funny conversation after the whole hoopla. I also really enjoyed the way Jason struggled with his feelings. I kept waiting for them both to realize the twist!

I read an Arc

Title: Have a Heart

Series: Love Happens #4

Author: Jodi Watters

Genre: Contemporary Romance Release Date: November 9, 2018

Blurb

If he had one, she'd be the woman he'd give it to.

A runaway bride, searching for happily ever after.

A Navy SEAL, who doesn’t believe in such things.

A bar, in the middle of nowhere, and fate, who’s been awaiting this day. 

Tessa

When I left my groom at the altar, I didn’t care where I went, or who I met along the way. 

When I walked into a roadside bar in Nowhere, California, I wasn’t planning on staying.

When I sat down beside Jason Reynolds, I had no idea who he really was. 

My world turned upside down.

Now all I want to do is save him.

Jason

I tried to ignore her. The beautiful train wreck who’d crashed my pity party.   

I tried to fight temptation. Her sweet smile and smart mouth threatened my misery.

I tried to walk away. My blackened soul didn’t deserve her bright, hopeful light.

My team calls me Tin Man for good reason.

Love has no place in my life.

ADD TO GOODREADS

Purchase Links

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AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

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Excerpt

         I’m a wisher. Always have been.

As a young girl, I’d stand before my closed bedroom door, wishing a Barbie Dream House would appear on the other side.

“No way,” my dad would sneer, a cigarette between his lips. “Not unless I hit the ponies tonight.” Despite his habit of gambling our grocery money, neither ever happened.  

As a gangly teenager, I’d stand in front of a mirror, wishing for bigger boobs and a fuller bush because I’d just seen Candace Michaels naked in the locker room after third period P.E. class. You could say I was stunted in comparison. My only solace was knowing those envious breasts would sag one day.

As a community college graduate, I stood before the liquidated store I’d just purchased thanks to a small business loan, providing employment to the two most important people in my life, wishing to God I’d always be able to pay their salaries. Theirs before mine, it turned out, on occasion. No matter. There was currency in independence.

I also wished I could twirl a baton, participate in a flash mob, and eat cake every day without gaining weight. But, as my dad always said, I could wish in one hand and shit in the other and see which one filled up first.

His best and only advice.  

Through it all, I’ve stared at nineteen different sheets of paper, always questioning what I’d written, wishing many times over I was a poet. That I carried within me a grace to evoke tender emotion, along with the guts to expel the toxic ones, using nothing but a pen and the alphabet. Oftentimes I missed the mark, yet I sent the messages anyway.

Yes, I’m an old-school letter writer. A throwback to another generation. It’s not by choice, believe me. This obsession started years ago, and I only write to one person.

Him.

Lately, I’ve avoided it. There’s been nothing to say.

But now, in the middle of the night, I suddenly have plenty to say. To write.

The man lying in bed next to me gives me pause. I know he’s asleep before I turn to look, his breathing slow, but his body tense. Ready for the unexpected. A learned habit that might never leave him. There’s something precious in seeing him sleep, the weight of a nation briefly lifted. In repose, he becomes more man than machine, despite himself.

More real. More reachable.

Careful not to jostle the blankets, I slide the remote from his slack hand and turn up the volume on an informercial to cover the sound of my movements. No easy feat, given he has catlike reflexes and can hear footsteps two doors down. Smiling, my heart expands. Those are only a few of the many skills that make him straight-up cool, in and out of a uniform.

So far, so good, the light from the TV guiding me as I crawl out of bed and grab paper and pen from the dresser. Not bothering to cover myself, I stand in the same spot and write what’s in my heart, the words clambering to come out. It’s all I can do to make my cursive scroll legible. Most of my letters are like this. Born of furious inner thoughts.  

       Dear... I begin, then pause on the next looping letter.

I always write friend.

The safety of our anonymity now gone, I write his name instead, personally addressing him for the first time. He feels like two different men to me, both of whom I love, but neither of which I deserve.

       It’s odd to use your name. I might never get used to that. I might never write you another letter either. It feels wrong now, as I look at the face of a man who’s been my sounding board, my guiding light, my surprise of a lifetime. Soft with sleep, his burdens at rest, it’s a face that proves every sappy love song right. Love—and let’s be honest, a daily dose of sex—really is all you need. And pizza.

       Love, sex, and pizza. The ultimate threesome. But I digress.

       Everybody has one, you know. A love story. Even the non-believers, one of which is the man embedded within my soul. Some of the stories are good, some bad. Some of them, for the very lucky, are even great. Those are the ones that last, defying a low survival rate.  

       I’ve always wished mine—I mean, ours—to be a lovely tale that played out like a metaphoric fable, where hummingbirds sipped nectar from orange blossoms on dew-dampened spring mornings, our love growing from the softest flutter of paper-thin wings, to a steady beat so sure and strong, you could tell the time and temperature by it. What appeared outwardly fleeting could easily withstand the rigors of Mother Nature. Bring on the hurricane. We’ll wait for the rainbow.  

       Go ahead. Laugh your fine, cynical ass off. I was thirteen when I dreamt that gem up, and while you might be hero material to me and many others, you’re no fairy tale prince. God knows, I’m no princess, so I’m laughing right along with you. We’re the sorriest pair of hummingbirds ever.

       But the thing is… I don’t care how it really happened.

        Just that it did.

I continue to bleed words of love, and then regret, onto the page, desperate to say everything I need to. Confess my sins the only way I know how.

“Hey.”

The rustling of sheets interrupts me, and I quickly slide the paper into the drawer, reaching for his discarded t-shirt at the same time.

Slipping it on, I cover my nakedness and grin at the scowl that crosses his gorgeous face. Rolling to his side, his unguarded eyes beckon me.      

“C’mere.” Patting the bed, his voice is rough with sleep.

Without hesitation, I let him envelop me in his strong, capable arms.

Nuzzling my hair, he asks the question I’m prepared for. “What were you doing? It’s zero dark thirty.”

“Nothing.” Burying my face in his neck, I kiss him and fight tears, feeling far more secure than I should. The taste of his skin is achingly familiar, and I let my lips linger. The privilege, I know, is temporary. “Just shaking off a dream.”

“Mmm,” he rumbles, and it’s the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard. “A good one or bad?”

The answer is complicated.

“Both,” I finally admit, the tears falling unbidden. I hide them, and the darkness allows me my privacy. “Tighter,” I whisper, and he just seems to know, the band of his arms flexing.

My breathing is shallow, but my love is deep, and I selfishly ask for more. “Tighter. Please.”   

Screw hummingbirds and orange blossoms.  

      This is the love story—the sad, but true story—I’m meant to be in.

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