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worldcakecakecake · 5 years ago

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Feliciano and the King of Hearts

Chosen by the gods as the Queen of Hearts from the moment of birth, we follow Feliciano’s story as he grows into royal life, learns to rule, go against age old customs, and his relationship with his husband to be, the King of Hearts.

Chapter 1 I Chapter 2 I Chapter 3 I Chapter 4 I Chapter 5 I Chapter 6I Chapter 7 I Chapter 8 IChapter 9I Chapter 10I Chapter 11I Chapter 12 I Chapter 13 I Chapter 14 I Chapter 15 I Chapter 16 I Chapter 17 I Chapter 18 I Chapter 19I Chapter 20 I Chapter 21 I Chapter 22 I Chapter 23 I Chapter 24 I Chapter 25 I Chapter 26 I Chapter 27 I Chapter 28I Chapter 29 I Chapter 30 I Chapter 31 I Chapter 32 I Chapter 33 I Chapter 34 I Chapter 35 I Chapter 36 I Chapter 37I chapter 38 I Chapter 39 I Chapter 40 I Chapter 41 I Chapter 42 I Chapter 43 I Chapter 44 I Chapter 45 I Chapter 46I Chapter 47 I Chapter 48 I Chapter 49 I Chapter 50 I Chapter 51 I Chapter 52 I Chapter 53 I Chapter 54 I Chapter 55 I Chapter 56 I Chapter 57 I Chapter 58 I Chapter 59 I Chapter 60I Chapter 61 I Chapter 62 I Chapter 63 I Chapter 64 I Chapter 65 I Chapter 66 I Chapter 67 I Chapter 68 I Chapter 69 I Chapter 70

I am personally glad that I updated this sooner than I expected.

Anyways, with all this quarantining and lockdowns, somehow you will expect that I would have infinite of time to write…but welp, I live with children and it actually means I have less time since they’re not in the kindergarten. So pretty much my writing pace is either the same or less.

I apologize. If this was not the situation, then you could easily expect an update weekly. Ah, how I wish! But patience as always! Enjoy!

Chapter 71

Many weeks passed, with each passing day a new stroke of grey. A storm seemed ready to brew, stationed in the Hearts capital, only adding to an ever-present gloom that was evident through all these vacant streets. Louis had counted twenty-six people exact from what she could see in the heights of this balcony that morning. Surely they had gone picking for groceries or heading to scheduled appointments, trying hard to live their normal day to day lives in the wake of this new war. So many had gone to fight…and only a few days before had a messenger arrived, worn and desperate, dirty and ruined, calling for more soldiers to come, in his hurry not saying more, Louis only able to notice how he wouldn’t stop shaking, how he was terrified to speak other words than the ones he was meant to say. No one else came after him, no letter showed, no difference was made. The alignment had long passed, whatever power, was granted. If they had been successful…everyone…everyone would have been here by now. Flowers, sparks and celebrations would have decorated the streets…the sky would be blue and Ludwig and Feliciano would give each other the tightest embrace they had ever shared. Yet the past Queen was here, gazing to the entrance gates, lost well between the mountains, expecting that fanfare…but only the occasional carriage came, as melancholy as the city. She sighed, turning back to the halls of the castle…darker than she had ever remembered them, colder, no rushing of life and no sound. She hurriedly paced wanting to find some sort of presence, and gratefully it came with a loud laugh, a clap of hands…and even little stomps.

“I still can’t believe it,” one maid graciously laughed, bringing light once again.

“Oh, Antonio and Lovino would be so happy to see this,” another said.

Louis followed that heat of life and met a wonderful corner.

Augustino had turned one recently, a very lonely birthday made for him, only Aldrich, Louis and a handful of servants in charge of his care. Not even Feliciano had asked for his presence…he had been silent for days. A maid had mentioned that the shield was gone, but even as so, Feliciano remained in bed, not a turn, not a breath… many servants wondered if he was even alive. Many times they came to find the plates of food as full as they had brought them, items untouched and not a word uttered, no call, not even a reaction for his nephew’s birthday. He missed his first steps, testing yet brave on these castle hall floors, wondered by the glows of the few lights on, suddenly rushed at the entrance of the old Queen. Louis couldn’t help taking him in her arms, raising him and giving the brightest smile she could give him. It was unfair to leave him in the glooms of these dark days, they had to show him that there were still things to smile about. She didn’t want to think about why the shield was down, why Feliciano couldn’t stand up, how her city seemed empty, how she heard nothing of how her loved ones were doing and what it could mean for them later. The servants there were just as unsettled and so she gave them reassurance with whatever timid smile she could give them, enough for them to breathe again, to instead focus on this bountiful child that kept laughing, reaching and playing no matter.

Echoed steps interrupted, one of the front guards tripping at his reach to them, breathless and stalling his words.

“Quick, what is the matter?” Louis demanded still with her own command, coming forward to help the man to even stand properly.

“They’re coming, many, a great amount of many!”

“Who’s coming?”

“Some Heartians that were fighting with Khaos, I couldn’t see who exactly, but they’re bringing with them thousands of Clubians. They told me they are refugees seeking to stay in the city.”

“Refugees?” One maid perked.

“Thousands?”

“What on Earth has happened?”

“I only saw and I am relying a message. I do not understand what’s going on either.”

Louis didn’t wait, she hurried off, to the very front of the castle to welcome the crowds that were coming, slow and easy, not at all the energy she herself had, begging for any to be there already. For Augustino’s sake, she hoped for either Antonio or Lovino, but she also wanted her daughter, or her husband, Gilbert or…Ludwig…she desperately wished Ludwig would be the first to enter those gates.

They came like a mist, undistinguished, it wasn’t until they were walking down the main castle road, now greyed, empty, without its usual gold and life, Louis noticed the colors. Spadian blue, Diamond yellow, Heartian red and many, many, many Clubian green. The first, the current lead to the castle, was Antonio, a flag in his hands as a lead to all who came behind him. He limped, his clothing was poor, he had bandages on his face and surely more under the layers, for he came with constant cringes upon his face. No matter, Augustino was unbeknown to all, he smiled, a shout to showcase it, hands open and dancing at his father’s welcome. It brought Antonio a much-needed grin, forcing a quicker pace if even the pain. He let the flag fall without a care at now the frontal castle courtyard, instead wanting to hold his son, completely enveloping him in his chest, nuzzling, kissing, taking in the scents he missed from him and his laughter.

“I have missed you so much,” he told him, with every word a stronger grip.

Renata then came, with her own flag leading the people that began to come in and continue to the entrance. Kandake then flew by at Pookie’s back, specifying where in the castle they could go. Emil walked by and Renata passed over her flag to him, so she could better focus on offering a hand and kiss to her grandson. Louis joined the hurdled, clearly shocked and questioning, only utters, trying to ask some sort of question they could give her.

It seemed like whatever they would say, it would crumble them. Her breaths were already creating cracks ready to burst.

“Whe-where-where…where’s everybody else?” They were too many to worry about.

Where were her three kids? Where were her five grandkids? Where was anybody from her family? All through the crowds she could see but battered soldiers, some even being carried in beds, some covered completely as a form of respect. There were Clubians, citizens like any other as defeated, carrying carriages of items, some with crying children and elders who coughed on.

“Roderich, Elizabeta and Lili are back in the city helping refugees locate. Alfred is still at the gates making sure everyone comes in,” Antonio at least told, turning with no other mentions, surely wanting the shade of the castle.

“But, but-but…where’s my sons, my daughter? Where’s Gilbert, and where’s Vash? Whe-where’s, where’s Ludwig?”

It was the only name that caused a startlement that stopped Renata and Antonio’s movements, shadowed more in this misery, not daring to look at the past Queen.

“Your sons and Vash are stationed in Spades ready to act. Monika and Gilbert are still at the front lines fighting.”

“Fighting? They’re still fighting?” Louis was desperate, standing in their way, not daring to let them pass until she knew everything. “I thought Ludwig was going to take care of everything, I thought he would have Khaos defeated by now, I thought-”

“Ludwig is dead!” Antonio couldn’t take more…he just wanted to rest, he just wanted to be with his son…he didn’t want her to find out this way…but he wanted his sanity…he couldn’t continue to stand being in this sorrow. “…he’s gone…” Antonio was shivering now, keeping to Augustino as some sort of fire to keep him warm. “…he left us the very day of the alignment…he tried so hard…we saw him with unbelievable power face a monster…” he trembled more at the memories, his eyes reddening and watering. “…but nothing worked…nothing is still working…” sobs…and now not even Augustino was laughing, trying to understand what his father was showing, puzzled by these tears. “Cities are crumbling…people only continue to die…and no matter what we do…it’s not enough…nothing is enough…not against those two, not-”

“…two? What do you mean two?” Louis raised her head, despite the sorrow, the tears that shed from her own eyes, she was determined to know exactly what was going on.

Antonio was not going to tell her…he moved passed her without a word…it left Renata and Kandake with the straining tale to tell.

Louis rushed the halls, leaving behind those that were meant to come with her. She took the shaft down, the circling hall, into the room, long free of magical shields. She huffed, her dress was in taters, her face marred in tears, breakage ready to combust. “Feliciano, Ludwig is-”

“Dead…yes, I know…” Feliciano uttered in a quiet murmur, in his heap, yet refusing to face.

“You knew…you knew…” she was too breathless to show if she was angered or saddened.

“From the very moment…” Feliciano opened and closed his hands, perhaps their first movements in days, as if trying to come back to the room from whatever memories he placed himself in. “I felt it…I felt him leave as if he was dying right before me…as if I shared in his final pains…and it is awful…it’s awful to feel like this…he was ripped apart from my very being…and now all I feel is empty…I don’t feel him…I can’t really feel anything…I just…Aces, I can’t deal with this, I feel like nothing.” He released sobs yet again, the same of these weeks, daily, rocking his body in a compulsion. Louis ran forward, worried he was losing his breathing, far worse than whatever current fatigue she held.

“He was everything…and he has been taken away… and I can’t-I can’t…I can’t even stand…I don’t want to face the world any longer without him.” Louis knew that there were no words, no comforting touch that could ail this crack fit to break the earth. How could she even comfort if she felt the same? She lost a dear grandson, cruelly and leaving behind so much disarray that was tearing apart their world. For once, she said nothing, she only stood and shared with him tears and shedding. They didn’t care for the new steps, for the new joins, to Feliciano nothing meant, he said what this inner void wanted, spreading to his speak and energy.

“I want to die! I want to die if it means I can join him wherever he is. I can’t deal with this…I can’t with this pain!”

The words shocked all the new who came, whatever news, plans or perseverance, washed away in the flood of tears that hanged. They knew then that now was not the time for their begs and insistence. There could only be but mourning, a powerful one, unbreakable. And so the group was defeated once again, bowing to this sorrow and letting it reign.

Still, they could not leave him.

The group took to refuge in the furthest they could get in this circular room. They prepared their own mats for rest if they felt like it, servants brought them all the meals of the day, they light up their area, dim to Feliciano and they circled themselves in their own conversations.

“What cities have fallen?” Alfred asked, keeping a map with notes.

“All of Yakutia is practically gone,” Lili announced, grave that she had to say it.

“Khaos has made do with Noril’sk and Igarka.”

“The other one has taken Ust’-Nera and Yagodnoye. Lukas and his men have offered to stay at Magadar and Sokol in order to keep that area. If the second one goes any further from there, it will start to enter Hungary,” Elizabeta trembled, her words yet managing a survive to tell.

“They’ve only remained in the Club Kingdom?” Louis asked to be sure, the only one wrapped in a blanket, trying to hold down these continuous shivers, hoping desperately it was from the cold of being this bottom in the castle.

“For now, yes,” Roderich answered.

“How much longer?” She asked with such brokenness, ready to face a sure death only fated to come to them.

They all hesitated. Some were confident in their armies, others thought the future bleak, and then they turned to Feliciano…still cradled, sleeping, no expectance.

“Weeks, months?” Emil estimated.

“We can’t really be sure.” Kandake kept statured gazes on Feliciano.

“No matter, we must prepare Berlin for if either approach,” Renata had to insist, already concocting, ready to take from the papers and pens placed on the table.

So much to do, so much catastrophe to expect, to continue to fight, to make last a barrier that they didn’t know could work fully.

“How long are we permitted to stay?” Antonio asked with not a bit of his usual life, the only thing moving being the cradle he kept on Augustino’s back, sound asleep.

“A messenger will come to tell us,” Alfred still kept his attention on the map, trying to figure something out.

“And what do we do until then?” Emil asked, slightly frustrated and how he wasn’t doing his own aid, mostly not permitted because of his young age.

“I believe calm and relax…this might be one of the only chances we get,” Elizabeta dreaded to think.

“How can we do so with our people dying out there?” Antonio was indignant.

“We still need it…we need to recuperate energy, think of new strategies and magic,” Roderich stood and began a pace.

“…and talk to Feliciano,” Renata reminded, nothing of her usual charm on her.

Chatter was dropped, the reminder a menace, a bomb ticking, sitting right behind them, comfortable at rest despite surely all the hidden turmoil.

“…he is not well…and he won’t be for a while,” Lili wanted to make them realize, worried for the Queen��s wellbeing as the rest. “We can’t keep him in mind for whatever plans we have next.”

“He’s exactly what we need to kill these things,” Emil pointed, trying to contain the anger, not wanting to awaken him.

“He won’t this way,” Lili continued the discussion.

“So we are to leave our world slowly get destroyed while he just lays in bed and does nothing.”

“Emil, even if he were to awaken and decide to go fight, it won’t be enough,” Antonio came in.

“He lost the alignment,” Lili managed her speech still.

“Not just the power he was supposed to be granted, but he lost Ludwig, his husband and king. They were united in a tight bond with magic and spirit that is far from what you can understand,” Elizabeta spoke, from knowledge as Queen herself. She spared a glance to Roderich, dreading if something was to happen to either…and they had to suffer that abyss as well. “His current mental state is a sickness that is debilitating everything in his body, including his magic, no matter how powerful.”

They all gazed together to the sleeping figure, only moving in breaths.

“…it could be deadly to himself if we are not to watch,” Roderich reminded, trembling, fearful for Feliciano.

Those words made all kept a heavier eye on the sleeping Queen, afraid that any miss would get him to slip away from their grasp.

“As Lili said…we cannot depend on him for whatever happens next,” Elizabeta had to decree no matter how harsh.

“But the prophecy,” Renata tried to defend, begging.

“It’s useless,” Alfred joined.

“We do everything ourselves then…” Emil dreaded.

Silence settled, hoping for a new idea, hoping for a new chance to alight to them, but the room continued to be dark, continued to haunt. As a distraction…anything but to not look at her son’s sure crippling, even if he was asleep, Renata gazed about all the items in the room. The old candelabras, the weathered curtains, broken pillars, dented walls, the old paintings of past Queens who had birthed in this room. Her gaze settled the longest on one that was claimed to be Augusta with her own two sons, her own great grandparents. She looked so different here from what Feliciano had described when he saw her mural, nothing like a Valenti, nothing like family. She had to remind herself that this was but one of many depictions...long after the last war.

“Augusta…when she lost Romulus was in the same misery…” Elizabeta told once again, seeing where Renata’s eyes lay.

Alfred scoffed, “and it took her decades to get over it, all the while the war worsening around them.”

They shivered if that were to be the repeat.

“…but she did eventually go to fight,” Roderich reminded, “she did eventually defeat Khaos.”

“I prefer we didn’t have to wait decades though,” Antonio said.

“What was it that even pushed Augusta to fight in the end?” Alfred asked.

“One of her sons decided to go and join the war himself. She wouldn’t stand losing another loved one,” Elizabeta said.

The jewels of bearing were clearly visible from their sitting, a few vines growing more into his arms, but not a covering yet, the frontal jewel that was supposed to be on his forehead not present.

They all sighed, it was fruitless.

The days went on as this, the same pace, frustrations, topics, planning…and they could only come out with more defensive strategies and attacks that would be small and useless, they knew. Reports came in of the battle… Russia was crumbling, a specific message from Tulio mentioned that they had to send dispatches to the Amazonian region of Clubs as Khaos was making fast approach. They panicked to know that if the Amazon fell…it meant it could start going into the Spades Kingdom. They did not want to look at the death numbers, they trembled and cried at the insistence for new supplies, new weapons, new ideas. Abasi called for more Whiteans to come from hiding and join the battle, Tino wrote on the dwindling amount of flight boats they had, how he was losing men and plans to return to Hearts Kingdom to defend it…in the very likely case that Khaos or the other reached. Lovino was the only one who wrote still at the very front, his letters hurried and almost unintelligible at the sure speed or shake he kept. He begged for Feliciano. there was blood and tears on this parchment. He wrote on how they were sending back Vincenzo, as he had suffered an awful incineration that needed instant attention and away from the burnings of war.

‘He has marks that disfigure him all throughout, and I know no magic will never heal it’

These words broke Renata, she succumbed to screams and kneeling, hitting the ground, cursing loud and deep for surely the whole castle to hear. She called for vengeance, that no matter her stature, they will find a way to make Khaos and the other pay.

Destro, some wrote they were beginning to call him, and to have a name they took it, a mention in those rooms that brought darkness, desperation and acceptive defeat.

Those in the Heartian castle went to-and-fro trying to find all kinds of answers for all these messages, yet no clear answer ever came, it was only a continuous block that kept them stuck in this repetition of actions that were already useless. Another message came calling most of them back to battle, others to come in their place. Only Kandake, Renata, Elizabeta and Lili were told to stay. They heavily disagreed, but they thought it best for Feliciano to be surrounded by people close to him, perhaps other Queens, to fight this very curse he found himself in. They held still to that piece of hope, one they thought could burn more brightly if they kindled it.

That morning, while the others packed and did what they could to prepare, Kandake stayed with Feliciano, the both of them alone, of the rare moments Feliciano had gotten to be in silence. No other voices, no steps, no new stresses and turmoil of the world above. He could be numb, he could think of nothing and feel blank…only but the strokes Kandake gave on his arm, calming, soothing…but checking. She traced the new vines that grew, now some edge with a pure gold, never seen to her as bearing marks. She stayed longer on them admiring their beautiful shine. The jewels on his hands were perfectly formed, more protruding this time, but there was nothing else, a slow process, enough to say that perhaps these twins could be born much later than the expected. She suddenly moved his bangs to stare into his forehead. No jewel yet, only some hazed red vines at the very edges of the crown of his hair.

“Your children are fine,” she told him, now beginning a caress between his soft curls. “It’s slow compared to most. You’ll probably be bearing for twelve months, but it’s nothing to worry about. Still can’t get a gender if you’re curious.”

Feliciano responded in the nothing she had been used to the last days, only a late nod, slow, quickly back to the stillness of a painting.

“You probably already heard, but, Antonio, Emil, Roderich and Alfred are heading back to battle…Aldrich is thinking of joining…Louis might follow right behind him.”

Feliciano only showed a grip and a loosening of his hands. Kandake continued…trying…something…

“They might go and join Gilbert and Monika. I know Antonio will replace Lovino at the front in the Amazon, Roderich will go with him. Emil will join my people…he figured if we combined our flight tactics, things could become sufficient. Alfred will go back to his own kingdom and prepare a defense…as well as for plans if they must evacuate…”

Feliciano blinked, each flicker more saddened.

“…Arthur will come here to Berlin…your brother, Kiku and Herakles too.” Kandake let the silence elongate, knowing no other words would bring a spell of life to him.

“Why?” He suddenly pierced, his first word in days.

“To be with you…”

“…it won’t do anyone good…”

“They are still coming…”

Silence continued once again, Feliciano slowly accepting and responding more to her caresses, settling in her hands, a color slowly enveloping him.

“…I know they’re coming to try and get me out of this…”

“Feliciano, we understand that what you’re going through is hard, unimaginable and we have no right to demand anything from you right now. The rest of us are in our own mourning, weakened ourselves, but we want to believe in being together, in being there for one another.”

He eased, there was a far echo of excitement, not strong enough to shine in its place on Feliciano, but Kandake felt like she could see it on a distance.

“…we should all be out there…including myself.”

“Then why not? Why not go out there?” Kandake was threading thin ice, but she was determined to test it.

“…my power is not what it could be anymore…and I still feel so…empty and weak…it hurts to even breathe right now…” Internally he tried that constant reach again, nothing yet, Ludwig was gone, as he had been accustomed to discovering each time. “Even with all of you in the castle…even with all of you right here in this very room, I still feel so alone, so distant, unreachable to any of you…even right now you seem so far away…”

Kandake halted, like coming to a realization that she had been caressing a ghost, transparent and disappearing. Yet, as she reached again, her fingers for sure met those curls, they scratched on his skull, she noticed every blink, every breath, every rise…he was there.

“But I am here…I can assure you that, and I will be for as long as I can remain by your side…we all are.” She gazed up, as if with it she could call them all here to prove it. “Feliciano…we would never dare leave you alone, especially now. I would like for you to at least fight with that part of you that dare suggests such a thing. If you can’t see it, if you can’t feel it, we will do what we can to show it. That’s what were here for, to assure you of our loyalties, hopes and chances.” She almost wept at that desperation in the fragility of all. “Feliciano, we still wat to believe in the future, we want to believe in you, and no matter what it takes or how long, we will be here to help when it’s time to stand.”

There were constant grips in his hands, reaching the ever closer to her, to truly feeling her there.

“We have all grown vengeful…I also wish to be out there and do what I can in the honor of Pisa…and so many now want to on Ludwig’s name.”

More breaths, more color came to him.

“I want to be out there to regain the Kingdoms once again, to stop this time from an entire kingdom falling as mine had done…but my loyalty to you, my dreams of seeing a Valenti finish the menace as another had done, weights before all else. I want my own vengeance fulfill in your glory as it was promised…and I’m sure I’m not the only one.”

The duty, the expectation… the fears of it all that had haunted, that had plagued…

In the last instants before the battles started, he grew that courage to be in his place, to face and fight. He was giddy, confident, there was a time he was already celebrating…but now it was like meeting the challenge all over again, trembling and falling at its door. Once again, he doubted, he denied…he was never to be what any of the kingdoms ever expected from him.

There was a time he would do it all for Ludwig, and only for him, but as his eyes caught the glimmer of red from his hand...

“You have your children now,” Kandake reminded. “You still have the chance to give them a life without war. I know it’s what you want now above all…and it’s what Ludwig would have wanted as well.”

And for once…it was almost like he could see him clearly, leaning beside him on the bed, joining Kandake’s caresses, smiling and telling him to be brave, that they could do this. Feliciano’s lips trembled in a slight grin, reaching and hoping he could touch him…but after all, it was just a memory, an image from his mind that could never come alive.

“There has to be an answer…there has to be something…and I’m sure we can find it together. Despite everything, you are still the prophesied one that has to end it all.”

Feliciano reverted back to his silence, like Kandake had not uttered such words…back to the beginning.

“Miss…” a young servant came, bowing before both. Kandake answered with her own, but Feliciano continued ignoring any new presence. “They are about to leave and would like your presence for their farewell.”

She nodded, “right away.”

He hurriedly left, while Kandake sighed and prepared words to tell them.

“I’ll be back,” she stood and although Feliciano shivered at her miss, he did nothing else, only Pookie, who had been nuzzling on his back, raised and gave a curious flight as to where she was going. He still returned, he still knew he had to stay with his master at this time. He cuddled back to the usual it had become.

Prophecies, prophecies, prophecies…if they could have written everything…every step, every direction the outcomes will pave. A clear way that any chosen could follow, and everything could be fulfilled as it was wished by the heavens. Feliciano didn’t have this booklet, this book, this divine mapping in the sky…only but a little St. Mark currently cuddling into his back and whatever will he held. He sighed, wishing to know what to do, how to start…how to even stand from this bed. And when he did…what then? What strategy? What plan? What magic? They had used every new thing they learned from the books they brought, their most powerful weapons, spells…the other that could have done something to stop this…was killed.

The harsh reminder that always had Feliciano turning back to the pillow or the blankets to shed his tears, grip and shake in the thunder of this pain again. But the thunder this time, refused to engulf the jewels, for they called louder, they made a proclamation that alighted Feliciano in a new sense.

His children…the little ones…they would be all, they would be this world, this kingdom, Feliciano… and Ludwig.…Ludwig…he suddenly sat…as if he alighted that moment for him to run and embrace.

The room was as empty as always, Pookie startled and looking about, wondering what could have caused Feliciano’s first raise in weeks.

No…he was not there…but as he soothed his fingers on the jewels…he could finally feel…almost even see, these specks of magic…of life, of creation. Some were of his…with the potent of gods and a power that was Queen in the universe, and then the others…Ludwig. A line showed powerful even if not at the wealth of gods. It was of Kings, of ruling and leadership to bring forward all the kingdoms in one. Ludwig was there…Ludwig was involved in that growing magic that would one day bring their children. He will live through them, he would be alive in their magic, forever then in a new line that would be their own together.

“Ludwig…” he whispered, as if meeting him again that instant.

“Your children will be their own life, their own paths and power…” something rung, deep within him, yet releasing and surrounding him. “…but Ludwig is there…” She seemed to whisper. “He will always be with you…as will I.” Feliciano hummed in delight at his great grandmother’s embrace and kiss. “They will all be here…you are here. You have the ability to stand and act.” With whatever magic or even wind, she caressed his face. “Do not as I did, where I waited decades before I knew I could defeat Khaos. It is still the beginning, you still have a great chance to save many and be the hero I knew my lineage would bring. Avenge your beloved. For him, your family and your kingdom, bring glory…” her breaths were slowly dispersing, she was disintegrating, leaving away to his inner depths, but he reached out, refusing her farewell yet.

“But how…how can I do this now?” He begged, yet so fragile and small.

Augusta smiled, knowing that beneath it, there was a winged lion with a menacing roar. His very own, Pookie, seemed to stare right at her, curious, wondering, reaching ever closer to see if he could earn friendship from this vision.

“I believe Pookie can help you.” Like a playful child, she chuckled, gone in that last grin.

Silence reigned in the room again…nothing at all coming back as Feliciano desperately hoped, looking at every corner as if she could materialize through these places again.

No…he was alone…with Pookie…who according to her word…could help.

He stared with great suspicion at him, as if expecting him to speak and defend himself from his crime.

“Have we…shared absolutely everything to one another?” He asked the little creature, with big question and innocence in his big eyes.

Feliciano sighed, finding himself in hopelessness yet again.

Something about that exchange brought a sudden reminder to the lion, a jump, a spin, a casting of magic that alighted his frontal jewel. Feliciano had payed no mind to it…until a sudden weight befell on his lap. He was surprised to see a book, adorned in the shine and silvers that were known from those of Khaos’s library.

“Wha-what…what?” He kept repeating, taking it and rounding it in his hands, exploring every new crevice, every new corner, mend and art…new…and not of the first pile that they had introduced to the castle from when they had returned from the spheres of validity journey.

“Pookie, did you…have you kept this ever since we were in Khaos’s castle?” He was incredulous, lost in what reaction he should show.

There was a shake of his head, bashful and blamed, but Feliciano knew it was his admittance to what he asked.

“Did you…forget to give this to us?"

Another shake that meant that it was in fact.

Feliciano groaned, angered with strong menace, but yet…he was merciful, for he knew Pookie, despite a gift from the Aces, was still an animal, with faults as…forgetting that he had one extra book that he had kept in the storage of his magic. He would have been angrier if the book’s tittle was clearly: ‘How to defeat Khaos, a step by step guide.’, but it wasn’t the case. In fact, the book’s title was: ‘The Soul and Spirit Interludes.’ What good will a book about the afterlife and the core of their spirits have? It was the kind of book that Feliciano knew, even if they had it in the first pile, they would have ignored and considered useless, but now, he could recall Augusta’s words… and perhaps…

He stood, cringing at the sudden force he gave his legs. He had been in bed for weeks and so they cracked and threatened to tumble him to the ground again. He took his time to whale and grimace, forcing them to take their usual rhythm of steps, practiced as he kept a desperate hold to the bed. Once he saw the door, it looked distant, making him dread that he had to push forward, had to take his usual lineage of breaths, run, command, be Queen and face the war.

He rolled his eyes, cursing whatever new desires for naps, pushing himself past the thresholds, free, controlling. His life was his again.

He smiled, grandiose and beautiful, Pookie spinning and cuddling in flight with his elation.

“Come…we have to find everybody.” And for what seemed for the first time in decades, he walked those halls once again, raising his arms and eyes to point at hope and chances.

#Feliciano and the King of Hearts #fatkoh #f&tkoh #gerita #gerita fanfiction #gerita fanfic #gerita fic

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tokumusume · 5 years ago

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tokumusume’s list of best and worst movies and dramas watched in 2019:

There’s a new category this year. Inspired by kpopalypse, welcome the Honorable Mentions! Movies that weren’t exactly bad but also weren’t good. Movies and dramas are qualified to enter if I watched them for the first time this year, not that they were released this year. Click on ‘keep reading’~~

Best Movies:

1. Parasite

Another masterpiece from the director of Snowpiercer (let’s pretend Okja never existed). A poor family con their way to a rich household. Choi Woo-Shik from The Witch (see below) is the eldest son and mastermind, fabulous as always. Definitely the best movie of this year. For me, movie of the decade.

2. The Witch Part 1 The Subversion

This movie is amazing, hard to describe without spoilers. A perfect mix of Stranger Things and Hanna. Choi Woo-Shik can come to my house and kick my ass anytime. I can’t wait for part two.

3. Death Trance

Visually stunning, kinda like Amemiya Keita’s style in early Garo or Mad Max. I wish the movie was longer and the characters were better fleshed out, Ryuen the monk and the little girl had so much potential... The most interesting thing about this movie is how sexualized the main male character is compared to the female ones, and apparently, the swords were designed to look like veiny penises (can’t find a source for this info), and yes, they do look like veiny penises. The final showdown is heavy with sexual energy. Have I already said that Ryuen deserved better? #RyuenRights

4. Gintama 2: Rules are made to be broken

The barber shop scene is a fucking cinematic masterpiece. I never laughed so much like I did with this movie. The way it doesn’t take itself seriously, the meta jokes, everything is perfect. Even better than the first one.

5. Kingdom

While I think that some fight scenes were way too long (like the bamboo forest one), the dynamics between Shin and Hyou/Eisei were highly entertaining, at least in my shipper eyes. I like that (SPOILER) the King of the Mountain People is a woman and not once they try to call her Queen. She is a King. Hashimoto Kanna is adorable as a Ten, Kanata Hongo does a great job as Eisei’s psycho brother, Sakaguchi Tak waves his sword around, the usual stuff but with added layers of dirt and sweat.

6. Bravestorm

A movie I lovingly call “Japanese Pacific Rim”. Full of Kamen Rider stars (Hino Eiji! Misuzawa Haruka! That girl from Heisei Generations, the one with a sword! She has a sword in this as well!) and giant robots (god, I love giant robots!), I waited so much for this movie and it exceeded my expectations. I just wish I could’ve watched in theaters, it had a limited showing in my country.

7. Twelve Suicidal Children

What begins as a murder mystery ends with a twist you won’t see coming. All of the actors are amazing, but special mention to Sugisaki Hana and that guy from that one boy group I forgot the name but can’t be bothered to Google.

8. Gakkou Gurashi

Four girls and their teacher try to survive the zombie apocalypse trapped inside the school. This one destroyed me for days.

9. Forest of Love

I’ve watched some Sono Sion movies but nothing prepared me for this. Be aware of extremely gory sequences and sensitive topics. Hinami Kyoko is so amazing as blue-haired, punk girl crush Taeko that I totally didn’t notice she was AkibaBlue in Akibaranger.

10. The Host

After watching Parasite I decided to go on a Bong Joon Ho binge and watched this horror movie. Not as good as Snowpiercer and Parasite in my opinion but heart-wrenching nevertheless. The little girl is the star of the movie.

11. The Hungry Lion

A story about the dangers of social media and slut-shaming. I want to punch Mizuishi Atom in the face.

12. Cromartie High

A little absurd comedy about yakuza-style high school boys (played by middle-aged men lol) forming a club to battle aliens summoned by themselves just because. It made me laugh like a child. A hidden gem.

Honorable Mentions:

1. River’s Edge

Depressing as fuck. Warning: the cats die. It’s not graphic but it’s traumatizing. Yoshizawa Ryo is a gay boy who sleeps with old men for money. There’s a graphic sex scene (not Yoshizawa, sadly) where my only thought was “That thing is gonna get stuck in there! Use a condom!” Can’t remember much from it except for these three scenes.

2. The Disastrous Life of Saiki K

Yamazaki Kento has the acting chops of a dead fish but it comes handy for playing a teen with psychic abilities and zero social skills. Hashimoto Kanna is one of the prettiest girls in Japan. Yoshizawa Ryo with white and blueish hair looks more like Sakata Gintoki than Oguri Shun in the Gintama live action. The end is a huge let down but the fun ride is worth it.

3. Ano ko no, Toriko

Congratulations to Yoshizawa Ryo, he has FIVE movies in my list of favorite movies this year! This is to make up for crowning GIVER as the biggest waste of time of 2018, this list is totally not biased, lol. “Ano ko” could be just another romance movie but the (very) little insight into how the entertainment industry works and not focusing on school life made me love it. Poor Sugino Yosuke being left behind again, when will this boy get the main girl?

4. Monstrum

It doesn’t reinvent the wheel but it’s pleasant enough to fill a rainy afternoon with a lot of blood and spilled guts. Hyeri of Girl’s Day is the heroine and Choi Woo Shik is the commander she falls in love with.

5. Weirdo Go

I confess I watched this one just to see Ji Li (aka my snake son Nie Huaisang) dressed as a woman but it was enjoyable and not that problematic.

6. Real - Kanzen Naru Kubinagaryu no Hi

Directed by the same guy that did “Creepy” and “Before we vanish”, there are lots of twists you won’t see coming. And a dinosaur. A fucking dinosaur.

7. Tomodachi Game: The Final

The movie loses its focus halfway through then picks up again minutes before ending. Yoshizawa Ryo delivers again as the sadistic Yuuichi, much like his role in Gintama. The plot twists are the star of the movie.

8. The Living Dead

Sorry Wen Ning. I saw the plot twist coming in the first 30 minutes of the movie, not very smart of the writer. His personality did a 180° turn for worse and I’ll demote the movie to an honorable mention for it. Gao Han is cute though, I would like to see him as a better character.

9. Backstreet Girls

Some recycled scenes from the drama to situate the viewers, a completely new story for the movie, it is certainly funny and enjoyable, if you can get past the forced gender reassignment surgery background and transphobic jokes (you shouldn’t get past it btw). I like the soundtrack.

Best Dramas:

1. The Untamed

Do I need to say more?

2. The Tale of Nokdu

This Korean romance had everything to be a mess but it wasn’t!!! *claps* I don’t hate the main female character and the whole palace politics actually kept me interested until the end. The complete shift of atmosphere mid-season was strange at first but ultimately very welcomed.

3. The Naked Director

Netflix original Japanese content is amazing. This one is a look at the life of a legendary porn director in the late 80s, I learned a lot about the history of Japanese porn and censorship (yay pixels!) and went looking for his, erm, works. Very graphic, 69/10 don’t recommend watching with people in the house.

4. Channel wa Sonomama!

I don’t remember it well but it’s about a news station and what is like to be a journalist and it was very interesting and funny.

5. SCAMS

Forgettable. Sugino Yosuke with black hair cons old people via phone calls.

Worst Movies and Dramas:

1. The cat in their arms

The cats spend 90% of the movie in human forms, and halfway through it they simply abandon the cats’ plot to show a fucking long montage of a weird guy painting a picture of a nude girl. It’s also super creepy to see a grown-up man acting like a cat, getting belly rubs and eating cat food from a bowl. Yoshizawa needs to choose his roles more wisely.

2. Tonari no Kaibutsu-kun

A waste of Suda Masaki’s talent. Can Japan stop casting Tsuchiya Tao already?

3. Samurai Marathon

Almost two hours of dirty men running through a forest. Maybe Japanese History experts will enjoy it, because I certainly didn’t.

4. Lady Vengeance

While there are legit great moments, I didn’t find this “classic” to be anything special. The animal cruelty was too much for me.

5. Hot Gimmick

This movie makes Bohemian Rhapsody’s editing look like a work of art. There are more flashing cuts than a T-ARA music video. I have no idea who likes who, who’s banging who, what even are they saying. Too much poetic shit for my like. I wanted to see Shimizu Hiroya naked. I was bamboozled.

6. The Divine Fury

While some parts were interesting, at the end I still don’t know if the protagonist is possessed by a demon (if yes, then why would he help a priest destroy his friends?) or if he was blessed by God when his father died and talked to him (the glowing hand thing, why and how??). The exorcism parts are really, really scary, or maybe I’m just a chicken, but I had to avert my eyes. The best (only) part is that the protagonists are hot. Hello Woo Do-Hwan, you can sacrifice me to Satan any time…

#tokumusume awards #2019 #Parasite #Gintama #The Untamed #The Tale of Nokdu #Yoshizawa Ryo #long post #jdrama #kdrama #jmovie #kmovie #cdrama #cmovie

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miss-sternennacht · 5 years ago

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Tsukasa Yugi isn’t who we think he is.

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courage-a-word-of-justice · 5 years ago

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Fate/Zero 1 - 25 (FINAL)

Most of these notes stayed intact during Fate/Stay Winter posts, but I’m releasing them in an unedited version here (aside from the dotpoints and read more, of course).

Fate/Zero 1

For some reason, I have it recorded that I’ve watched F/Z ep. 1, but I don’t remember it! I only remember Saber fighting someone…that’s why I have notes for this ep too.

Ewwwwwww…what’s that in the Macedonian box…?

Oh! Heaven’s Feel is the name of one of the movies that came out this year or last.

LOL, the grandparents of Waver literally refer to him as “Waver”. I thought it was a title. Is it really his name???

I’m very good at making connections between seemingly disconnected things using only the things I know. I predict Kariya’s in for a verrrrrrrry bad time and will probably die in this Grail War, if not go bananas. I already know Rin, Ilya (the Einzbern child) and Sakura are already part of the Fate/ canon, so they’re probably going to fight in a Grail War as well.

Ahhhhhhh! B*stard Archer (that is, Gilgamesh)! He’s hereeeeeeeee!

What’s that counter on the ep title card…? Is it the time until the Grail War…?

Fate/Zero 2

I’ve seen enough spoilers being bandied about that I already know Rider is Alexander the Great.

Like, seriously, why do we call the dude “Waver Velvet”? What’s his real name?

Kiritsugu acts as Ilya’s dad, but…I’m pretty sure he isn’t her dad. Kiritsugu’s surname is Emiya, right? He’s Shirou’s dad, as far as I know. Then again, I only know what I know from being around Fate/ fans for so long.

LOL, there are far too many dragons in this name – Ryuunosuke Uryuu.

Ohhhhhhhhhhhh! Is this Giant B*stard Archer???? Is this Giant B*stard Archer??? (i.e. Gilgamesh) Oooooooooh! No wonder people like Gilgamesh, even though they call him a giant loveable b*stard.

Fate/Zero 3

Thy don’t call Rider that for nothin’, eh?

I wonder how Saber managed to get a passport…? She’d need one, eh?

Oh…CGI car…it’s burning my eyesssssssss! (although I do believe Troyca didn’t do any better with El-Melloi’s Case Files)

“Hotel in Fuyuki” – They couldn’t be any more explicit with this stuff, could they…?

“…Highness.” – I can see why Saber is so popular with the Fate/ fans now.

Huh? I seem to remember the battle that comes next! Damn *bleep* <- (censored name of anime club manager responsible for the anime marathon that caused me to go from the beginning of F/Z in the first place)! I definitely remember Saber fighting Lancer.

Fate/Zero 4

(sorry, seen this one! That’s where the confusion was! So no notes here!)

Fate/Zero 5

Berserker looks like Goblin Slayer covered in smoke…LOL.

…Well, they don’t call that guy Berserker for nothin’ either.

Rider would make a great Santa Claus, LOL.

Fate/Zero 6

Isn’t there a Joan of Arc in the Netflix Fate/ (Apocrypha)?

Dang, that Kayneth is an evil b*stard, alright!

Kirei is basically Wolverine…?

No wonder you never hear about Caster when people talk about Fate/…he’s neither hot nor a waifu…so nobody gives a s*** about him.

Fate/Zero 7

Is that a Gantz?

Wait, y’mean Rider is motivated…by pants? *spits* Hahahaha…

You can see Ufotable’s much-praised CGI at work here, too.

I can definitely see why Ufotable was chosen for Katsugeki and why they chose Izuminokami for their protag.

Had to google Jeanne to remember what she looks like in this universe, but yeah…she does look like Saber.

For some reason, I had a fleeting thought that Lancer would be the one to be on the mountain alongside Saber…I was right.

So basically, the entire Fate/ series is this: who would win? A mage or an assassin? (Or something like this.)

Fate/Zero 8

I still think Kirei is basically Wolverine.

Kiritsugu = “to cut and tie”.Update: It’s “to tie” and “to inherit”, apparently.

F/Z 9

I wonder…just what is Lancer’s motivation for the Grail? Surely, Servants have their own motives…

I literally covered my eyes when Sola-Ui bent Kayneth’s finger back…it was almost as bad as seeing Nozomi get tortured (Magical Girl Spec-Ops Asuka)…*gulp*

“Not well” is an understatement, Sola-Ui.

I had to google how old Waver was in this Grail War…he’s 19, apparently, so right in my strike zone right here, so to speak~.

Beleaguered Waver is what you cool kids would call the 2020 Mood…and yes, I’m watching this on the 1st of January, 2020 (but you’re reading this after I put it up later in the month), so I’m keeping the comment.

“What kind of moron would go busting in?” – *facepalm* It seems Rider would.

What the heck is Rider riding his chariot over on the floor, anyway? What’s up with these sewer creatures ? They’ve got tentacles…!

F/Z 10

Rin reminds me of Asuka (NGE)…*gulp* That can only mean bad things for her.

Zenjo? I’ll make a note of that name.

That one glowing sign says “Fuyuki Station”.

Rin no Bouken = Rin’s Adventure. I don’t see why the subbers included “Big” in there, tbh.

F/Z 11

Uh-oh. Why do I get the feeling Saber’s going to get very, very drunk…?

Gee whiz, the great b*stard is a narcissist…

Well, sometimes I forget I had “Archer = Gilgamesh” spoilt for me ages ago…probably because he’s all over Babylonia, not to mention he seems to be one of the more popular characters precisely because he is the great b*stard.

“I wish for my homeland’s salvation.” – An interesting thing to say, considering Brexit.

What the f*** is a Gordius…oh, okay. So that’s Rider’s chariot.

How many Assassins are there??? I thought there was just the one, but there were 4 last time.

This discussion is interesting…no wonder Saber got mistaken for Joan of Arc back in the day.

Welp, Assassins gotta assassinate…*shrugs*

Eyyyyyy…there’s this one guy who looks basically like an older Waver Velvet! That explains a few things, I think.

F/Z 12

“Ramasonic” (sic).

I still think Gil-I mean, Archer’s snakeskin pants are hilarious.

I feel like last episode was a lot better in regards to how good Fate/ could be. This episode is just Ufotable animating talking Gilgamesh and Kirei heads.

Why do I get a bad feeling something bad’s going to happen to Maiya…again?

Kirei trying to look bada*s while leaning against a wall…it looks sort of funny, to be honest with you…because he bends his neck at a funny angle.

F/Z 13

This is the end of the 1st cour, apparently…according to AniList, at least.

“…5 billion people.” – I think the number is 7 billion now, but okay.

Never leave your Servant unsupervised, amirite?

I saw one of the bookstore’s shelves has science fiction on it…hmm, in a show with magic, that seems ironic…or was that non-fiction? Also somewhat ironic.

Oh, this “Don’t you want to do anything fun?” from Rider to Waver is an interesting parallel to Kirei’s episode (the previous one).

Dragon guy’s off his rocker…seriously.

Paraphrasing here, but “…if you want to use the Grail to make yourself taller…” – then stick to milk and other calcium products, Waver…LOL. I mean, other anime characters do.

Even Saber Naruto runs! There are no aliens here…but that car does have gull-wing doors (<-had to google what the doors were called), so…is it a DeLorean or something? Then someone could time travel instead.

I thought one of the previous commands from the overseers was to defeat Caster…?

Fate/Zero has become a kaiju movie, LOL.

Scared Waver is also a 2020 Mood…LOL.

F/Z 14

What’s this “Giant of Light” business…?

Geesh…If Ufotable did a Godzilla movie, I would watch that…(now that this monster makes me think of that possibility.)

This is a small quibble, but is it “Diabolo” or “Diablo”?

Somehow it didn’t even hit me until the fight was halfway over…but does Gilgamesh control a flying airship as part of his Noble Phantasm?!

Pretty scenery or not, talking people standing still are just that…not very entertaining, for sure. It’s basically the only flaw of this series, aside from the fact it hasn’t plumbed the depths of its themes yet.

Ufotable’s clouds look kind of like Gainax’s in Houkago no Pleiades, huh?

Tokiomi seems to blame Kariya for the whole sister vs. sister thing. Hmm, it really just shows how demented the guy is.

F/Z 15

Berserker is only ever in CGI, huh? No wonder Ufotable was given the job.

“That’s…from King Arthur’s legend…” – Can I please interrupt with the Excalibur song? (I’m annoying like that and want to ruin your level of immersion, that’s why.)

Hey, who knew? We get to see Joan in this anime, too. Thank you, Ufotable and Type Moon for saving me a Netflix subscription.

F/Z 16

“Things have been rather hectic this evening.” – Well, you don’t say…

*Saber and Lancer start their fight * - I detect signs there may have been people shipping Saber and Lancer at this point in time, what with their mutual ideas of honour and such.

Kayneth is kind childish, LOL – he’s like a kid peeping at his parents while they complain to each other about a hard day’s work or something.

Uh, this curse from Lancer here is definitely gonna be relevant later, right…?

I was muttering, “Oh goodness” (<- I’m self-censoring here, but you get the point) a few times over when Kiritsugu and Maiya finally got around to killing Kayneth, Lancer and Kayneth’s fiancee. By the way, were those two ever married…? Also, this makes me wonder…what would happen if you got a completely useless Servant? Like “King of Fools” or something. It would sound like the Familiar of Zero, sure, but it would be an interesting exercise in making a compelling narrative.

F/Z 17

Dangit, B*stard Archer. Disappearing just after you provoked Kirei…

Oh! I found the Avalon scene confusing at first, but now that they explain it, it makes a lot more sense.

“As I live and breathe, Kirei!” – Sounds mighty ironic for a meant-to-be-dead historical figure to say that.

F/Z 18

We jump to someone else’s story…or do we?

For some reason, I think this beach place is based on Okinawa. (It seems like the best match.)

“This isn’t a game.” – Seems highly ironic, given his current situation.

I know Kiritsugu is probably looking into Shirley’s eyes, but all they show is the boobs downwards, so I imagine it to be fanservice.

That shaking was just to disguise the bad animation, wasn’t it…?

…and suddenly, zombies!

Well, that’s great, Kiritsugu. You ended up burning down a village by association. Good job…

“Vampires.” – Well, that wasn’t the word I was expecting…

For some reason, I think this new arrival is a woman, but now that I get a proper look at their face, they kinda look like the Great B*stard (Gilgamesh). Update: It looks like they have cleavage, but then they also kinda resemble Samatoki (Hyp Mic)…so, uh…I dunno. Update 2: Okay, she’s a woman…Natalia, to be precise.

The houses on fire look a lot like the ones in Katsugeki, come to think of it.

F/Z 19

Wait, what’s a Mystic Code again…?

Oh, I didn’t think this show would do it, but there’s a good few seconds of recap. I know, because I had to skip it.

Oh, the reason Kiritsugu doesn’t seem to ally with the Association or the Church is because Natalia wasn’t part of either. Right…I’m so dumb.

Am I just reading into Kiritsugu’s pose here too much, or does he look like Christ the Redeemer a bit…?

There’s something oddly pretty about Vorzak. Then again…it’s too bad he’s designated to be dead.

I could tell Kiritsugu was CGI for a second…but he was in fog. Dangit, Ufotable. You know how to disguise your CGI well.

…Okay, those bees were very CGI. Scrap what I just said.

Bees on a plane. What a way to die.

I’ve noticed Kiritsugu’s eyes don’t have any pupils in them. They’re always kind of dead, but not in th same way En’s (<- from Boueibu) are.

What happened to Kiritsugu’s mother…?

The extended flashback seems to be the best way to my heart, assuming you can pull it off properly.

What’s with that “sometime, somewhere”?

F/Z 20

There hasn’t been a proper OP since 3 episodes ago.

Was Maiya ever interested in Kiritsugu as a woman? This vague pseudo-harem sorta annoys me, which is why I need answers.

The crows in this show aren’t very fluffy. Not that I have a problem with that…it’s just a bit random (and I’m saying that as I operate without much sleep and will have a huge period of getting up early in my near future, so you’re probably going to see even more randomness coming from my brain).

Modanyaki. Never thought I’d be googling a Japanese concept for this anime.

This sleeping bag Waver reminds me of Aizawa, but this is at least 4 years too early for that.

That cloud in the top left is shaped funny…like a knight, maybe? (There’s a triangular bit that looks lik a helmet.)

I believe the bird is a bush warbler (uguisu), based on the colour.

So this is where you learn what the f*** a Gordius Wheel is…right.(sounds a bit pissed)

Seeing Kariya squirm…it makes me thank my lucky stars I had the sound off. My imagination makes the scene worse, though.

So fakers beget fakers and killers beget killers, huh? Not surprising.

“I’ve always told him he was doing the right thing.” – Because you didn’t know any better, huh, Iri?

F/Z 21

“Knight on Two Wheels” – What would that knight be riding, a bike…? (somewhat sarcastic)

…A motorbike. Close enough. (not sarcastic anymore)

The motorbike’s plate says “Fuyuki - Te” – instead of a licence plate combo, Japan has a single hiragana.

Well, at least now I know why you never hear of Kariya outside Fate/Zero much…those worms don’t give him long to live.

Isn’t Tokiomi dead though…?

Holy s***, Kariya, you just got framed! *yells in the tone of voice as if Kariya got owned…which he did, in a sense*

*brow furrowed* What’s up with the framing of Aoi’s killing that makes this seem like attempted rape…?

Kirei looks all dead inside. (LOL) I know it’s the animators’ fault that they didn’t bother with him in that scene, but…he has the eyes of a dead fish there, y’know? I can’t help but laugh.

F/Z 22

Never in my life have I seen a grandpa want to talk on the roof.

The grandpa reminds me of Rider…that’s probably where part of their relationship comes from.

You can see the lack of sleep is getting to Kiritsugu right now…his face looks a little sunken…

…Fate/ is apparently pretty infamous for treating its women badly from a feminist persepctive and I think I get why now…(referring to the death of Aoi and now Kirei’s treatment of Iri)

I think the scariest part of F/Z is watching th emotionless guy learn how to feel…kinda like Equilibrium, y’know?

Hmm? I wonder how this show will choose to end, since it’s signalling its end from 3 episodes out?

I predicted Rider would say something along the lines of “…befitting of the Rider class” and lo and behold! He did!

So Rider can summon a single horse as well as the entire chariot? *Saitama face* Okay then.

Number of Times Waver Appears: 1, Number of Times Waver Cries: 1, Number of Times Waver Blushes: 2

Come to think of it, even though I had that weird “Ohhhhhh! Great B*stard Archer!” reaction at first, Gilgamesh has shown up in most of the worst scenes of this show so far (basically, most of the “talking heads” scenes where he talks shop with Kirei). Then again, my change in feelings probably because I’ve had to keep a special eye out for Waver and knew Saber was the poster girl for the entire series.

The counter appears to be “time until the Holy Grail War”…well, that or its final conflict.

F/Z 23

I like how Waver’s joining in with Rider’s yelling.

I have the sound off, so now I’m just mentally narrating Sakura with this creepy child voice and it’s spooking me out…the Urobutcher could really go toe-to-toe with Stephen King if it weren’t my imagination…(LOL…?)

I feel sorry for that car’s owner…the car wasn’t meant to be wrecked…

I fully expect Berserker to be Lancelot or some other guy in King Arthur’s canon, judging by Saber’s reactio-hey, who’s Arondight…? Update: Oh, f***. It really is Lancelot. Turns out Arondight is the name of Lancelot’s sword. How did I know? There’s that upcoming Camelot adaption, isn’t there? Connect the dots.

Oh, f*** me – I feel conflicted. On the one hand, Lancelot’s hella handsome (and his dark hair is exactly my kinda thing), on the other hand…doesn’t he look like he came out of Castlevania or Vampire Hunter D or something??? F***in’ vampires!

Oh, f*** again, I stand corrected. Lancelot was handsome, before he became a Caster-looking…thing.

*bursts into spontaneous laughter* The new Lancelot looks kinda like Tsukasa from Dr Stone, LOL.

Number of Times Waver Cries: 2

Wait, isn’t Bucephalus Greek??? Update: No, he wasn’t. He was Alexander the Great’s horse. That explains why he’s Rider.

I was wondering how Waver managed to live long enough to be El-Melloi II when he was stuck in a battle to the death. Welp, that’s how he did it, folks! *points at screen*

Number of Times Waver Cries: 3…but…anti-climax, much, f***in’ Gilgamesh???

Uh, what’s up with Psalm 23:4? (I had to google that snippet of the Bible to find out its citation.)

LOL, Kirei and Kiritsugu have very similar faces. Didn’t realise that until now.

F/Z 24

It’s weird seeing Kirei full of fighting spirit…He’s still frickin’ Wolverine, though.

Is this taking cues from the Matrix? I bought it from the charity store the other day because I haven’t seen it yet, but I know Bullet Time from TV Tropes.

Now Kirei is channeling Bruce Lee, LOL.

Ouch…the bullet to the hand reminds me of the nail gun scene in The Island (which still freaks me out to this day). (…and now I’ve gone and done it – every time I think of that movie, I get the song The Island – part 1, at least - in my head as well.)

I can almost see Sakaido (from ID: Invaded) in some of these scenes instead of Kiritsugu…trust Ei Aoki and associates to do that.

I went to dump a screenshot in Paint and one of my Fate/ backgrounds from one of the previous posts was set to my background! (I have my backgrounds set to rotate every 12 hours and I have over 600 pictures for that purpose.) *sighs happily and incredulously* Well, whaddaya know…sometimes the stars do align.

I almost expected Shirley to appear, but it turns out it was Iri instead.

Kiritsugu still has his Command Seals so he’s still connected to the Grail War somehow…hmm…

C’mon, I predicted Gilgamesh would compliment Saber when she was down and bleeding.

F/Z 25 (FINAL)

Who’s Lord Justeaze?

Sakura has the same eyes as Kiritsugu. Dead, lifeless eyes.

Did Kariya just throw himself to the worms???

The Great Naked B*stard Gilgamesh.

A priest is a zombie, huh? How ironic.

Isn’t Gilgamesh annoyed by his lack of clothes…? Update: Never mind. He gets a cloth soon enough.

Wait, if Saber destroyed the Grail, who won…?

Huh? The timer ran out.

Aw, even Waver’s growing up.

One of the books says 零戦 (reisen) which apparently means “Zero Fighter [Plane]”. One of the sets of books says “William Shakespeare”, who I know is a Servant somewhere in the Fateverse.

The Bible verse is Job 19:25.

Lancelot’s head doesn’t disappear when the rest of him fades away…It’s pretty poignant.

Jubstacheit is the head of the Einzberns. Update: Think I had to google that.

“Becoming a hero has an expiration date.” – As much as I know that in my creative heart to not be true, my adult heart says yes, it’s true.

Welp, that’s the end of one series. Time for another.

#Fate/Zero

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ansogs · 5 years ago

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Needing to vent-

Saying I miss you seems like an understatement.

You filled a void in my soul the day I met you.

We couldn’t handle our emotions. And three years after our divorce, we both accepted and forgave each other for our wrongdoings. I am ever so grateful for that.

We finally had our child. We had wanted one so bad before. When we were married, we had a two bedroom apartment. Spent thousands on fertility supplements. But it never happened. Caused a lot of problems. Then this time around, we finally had a son. Which, biologically, he wasn’t yours, but he was your’s nonetheless. His biological father started talking about violence and I don’t want to go into details, but I felt my son and I were not safe. I was about 3 months pregnant when you and I started talking again. I saw you on the dating site and those butterflies I felt several years ago started fluttering in my stomach again. You were the only one that’s ever had that long lasting effect on me. I hit like on your profile and you messaged me. I thought you’d be hateful. But you weren’t. We met at the place we got married and talked and everything was like we had just left off, minus the toxic parts. You said you wanted to be there for him and I. I was living with my mom and stepdad. You’d come over, we’d go out shopping or just hang out in the living room. You’d pick out clothes for our son and was so excited. You would kiss my belly every night and tell our son how much you loved him. You took my fur daughter and I to the beach. And we went to a science museum and talked about how we’d take our son there and Disney world when he got older.

Then your dad passed away. You were hurting so much. I didn’t know what to do, but hug you. You kept blaming yourself, although it wasn’t your fault. You were stressed about some other family matters. Your dad left you money to fall back on to get us a house, and take care of your mom, but you needed your dad.

Then came the day our son was born. You were there. Not in the room, and I regret that. I just allowed my mom in the delivery room because I didn’t want to become hateful with you. If I could turn back time, you’d definitely be in the room. You were so proud of him. You talked a lot to my dad while you waited. He told me about conversations y’all had. How good of a “kid you were.” When we got back to my mom and stepdad’s house, my dog was limping. At first the vet said arthritis due to her age. Then arthritis again after an X-ray. The third vet, a day less than two weeks later, found the tumor that was cancerous. By that time, it was too late. I miss her so much. You held me in the parking lot of the vets office as I screamed. I need you now.

You were so proud of our son. Our first thanksgiving, you wanted to show him off to everybody. Christmas, the same thing. You talked about how excited you were for him to play sports and that he was going to be a Steelers fan. We made plans for a trip to Panama. You told me you ordered me a ring. Of course, now I realize that you were going to some how propose on the beach the week of our first wedding anniversary. I feel dumb because you hinted around and my therapist pointed it out a couple months later.

We signed him up for modeling auditions too. In February, we took him to Nashville for his first audition. We got a hotel, and had a lot of fun. We took our son on a carousel for the first time, although he cried. We used grub hub for the first time and ordered chipotle from our hotel. We had a lot of fun.

That was February 1st and 2nd. You got your hair cut a week later, and I mentioned I’d like to get mine dyed. You gave me the money to get it done, but you went with me and when they finished, you paid for it with your card. You spoiled me. A lot. We were going to look at a house in town that had 4 bedrooms and a decent yard. You had been fighting a cold for the past month. Coughing really bad. It was winter. I didn’t think nothing of it. The urgent care said everything looked clear. Just a cold.

One night, I was exhausted. It was 2am. Earlier that day, you said your leg was swollen. You said you just needed to walk some. Our son finally fell asleep, and you texted me that you felt horrible. I asked what was wrong, and if you were ok. You said your leg cramped up really bad and you called your brother crying. I don’t understand why you felt horrible for calling him. My brain wasn’t working and I dozed off. My son and I usually sleep about 10 hours. He’d wake up throughout the night and squiggle by me to nurse. I woke up at 9:40ish. I felt weird. I read your texts and you said you didn’t sleep. You asked if I was mad at you. You went to Walmart then went to work. You said you were burning up and out of breath. Then your texts went back to normal day at work texts. I thought maybe you were feeling better. I didn’t realize the last text message was at 6am. You usually text me once an hour because you had a mostly sedentary job and you’d get bored. I text you good morning handsome like I always did. And asked if you were feeling better. I was wondering why I woke up early, I thought maybe I was just hungry so I got our son, and went to the kitchen and got a cheese stick. I went to lay back down and you started calling my phone. I thought you were finally going to the ER. I answered, “hello handsome.” “Nick’s dead.”

It was your brother. I guess I can see why he didn’t speak to me after that. All I could do was scream no over and over. And I screamed for my mom. He hung up.

I went to your aunts house. They suspected a pulmonary embolism. Although, the autopsy said massive heart attack. I obsessively researched pulmonary embolisms and blood clots. If I wasn’t dumb, you might still be alive. We’d have our own place and we’d be married again. My son would have his daddy. I’d have my husband. We wouldn’t be struggling, I wouldn’t be grieving and crying everyday wishing you were here. I’d do anything for a big hug from you. Anything. I wish I could go back. Why didn’t you go to the hospital?

When I was on my way home from your aunts, I heard one of our songs on the radio. Which never played on the radio before and was 2010 (sleeping with sirens). I know that was you. When we got home, there was a package in the door. It was the Valentine’s Day gift you said you had ordered as a surprise. It was beautiful. A bear covered in foam roses because you knew I didn’t like how real roses would die. You died. And your funeral was on Valentine’s Day. I didn’t eat for 6 days. Would have been longer, but my mom said she’d take my son and I to the beach like you and I had planned, if I ate something. She lied.

I went to your aunts house for Easter. Your brother wouldn’t even acknowledge me or my son. That hurt a lot. I visited your mom on Halloween. We were late to the party, but I tried and I didn’t know it was earlier that day. I was going to go to your aunts on thanksgiving this year, but I didn’t feel like they wanted me around and plus, it just hurt too much. Our son and I were the only ones at the dinner table. It hurt. It was lonely.

I heard your brother got a house. And a new truck. Good for him.

Our son and I? We got the splash mat you ordered for the beach trip, and a brand new with tags shirt of yours that you got on the beach trip before our son was born. That was it. It didn’t smell like you at all. Your brother donated the rest of your clothes to a nursing home. I spent every day with you, and I was ignored. We planned a life together. I was ignored. I feel like they were acting like it didn’t matter, when you and our son were everything to me. I never got the ring you said you had put up in your trailer. You wanted to give it to me before, but you also wanted to do it in a special way. I told you I wasn’t going anywhere, that I can wait. It’s a material thing and not you, but if I had it, I never would have taken it off. Our son and I are still living with my mom and stepdad. I can’t work. I can’t deal with people and I was like that before, but it’s worse now.

I don’t know what I did to deserve all this.... but I know you didn’t want to leave us like this. You were going to college and was going into marketing. You were so smart. We had made so many plans. I miss you. I miss seeing your blue Dodge Avenger pull up in the driveway. I miss you singing along to your favorite songs and showing me new music. I miss you getting excited about music. I miss holding your hand. I miss kissing you. I miss your laugh. I miss your smile. I miss the way your beard smelled. I miss playing with your hair. I miss running my fingers through it and just outlining your face with my fingers. How perfect you were for me. And how perfect our little family was for me. And now you’re just gone. Everything I ever wanted with who I wanted. February 12th. You were 31. Our son needs his daddy. I need my husband. If it weren’t for him, I’d have gone with you. But he also needs his mommy. So, I have to grit my teeth, and push the corners of my mouth into a smile. I have to stay strong for him. I know you’d want me to. And I’m trying my best. I love you so much.

#dealing with grief #grief #i miss you #hurting tonight #holidays #are difficult rn #rip #widow

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fanesavin · 6 years ago

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The Commander of the Rajisthangard is summoned for questioning by the High Inquisitor and some truths are uncovered.

(All the props to Lori for writing NPCs :D)

Fane had ordered for the Commander to be brought down for questioning. The room in which he’d been sat was small with nothing but a desk, a side-table and a couple of chairs around it. The man had been unarmed and asked to sit and wait. A tactic to let him sweat a little and met some power the Inquisitor’s way. After a little while, Fane let a guard open the door and stepped in carrying a jug and a couple of glasses that he set down on the side table. “Commander, I’m sure I don’t need to explain why you’re here, do I?”

Eagle Commander knew that everyone was to be questioned in the Keep, that was only fitting. He marched down at the appointed hour when his time came, and stood ramrod straight in the Inquisitor’s selected room, waiting for the noble to arrive. He was used to waiting for those of a higher status to arrive after him; and when the Inquisitor did, he bowed low (but with little courtly flourish) and then clasped his hands behind his back. He knew the Inquisitor through news - not as an Inquisitor, but as a Dawnguard leader. The respect was clear on his soldier-neutral grizzled face. “I do, Inquisitor.” He only sat - stiffly, like it was unused to sitting - when the Inquisitor explicitly requested that he did. It was more out of obedience than desire to be seated.

Fane let the man sit, not that he looked comfortable on the little wooden chair that creaked a little. Good. Fane remained standing, his posture relaxed as though this wasn’t an interrogation just a small conversation. “Tell me Commander… How long have you held the role?” seemingly unrelated questions, but conversation enough to break down the barrier if only a little. The man was a soldier after all, he mused thoughtfully “it must have been quite an honour to be asked to take up such a position… Tell me, how did that come about?”

“I was appointed Commander of the Golden Eagles, five months ago, after my predecessor was killed in the Battle of Seven Coins, when it reached the Bluesprings Keep walls and the Gates almost fell. He died protecting it.” A momentary pause of respect for the late fallen Commander. “I - ” The Commander wasn’t sure if he should say this, the Lady Ciara was so secretive about her position, but that was her role. The Prelate Theodore was well so, although the High Raj’s announcement should have made all of it public. But the High Raj was dead now, so the man made a decision then. “I was appointed as part of the High Raj’s Council, peace be to him. That was about one month and fifteen days ago, before the tour of the crown, as you recall.” The crown had of course made its way up to the North. “Before I was made Commander, I was a part of the Golden Eagles for fifteen years, under the various Lords who oversaw the Capital before it was called ‘the Capital’.” Those Lords, of course, hardly lasted during the war. The Capital was such a lynchpin location, it was constantly being warred over.

Eagle Commander looked up at the Inquisitor then. “I could go on, if you like,” he said, his tone offering, willing to obey should the Inquisitor need it. He also also added, in a reflective way “My daughter was a Dawnguard…”

Fane listened and where it was necessary nodded sympathetically it was sad indeed but a man that should have put an end to the death would have been a welcome relief for so many battle-weary soldiers. “Many people died in the wars, many good men and women,” the mention of the council caused him to tilt his head ever so slightly. “And were you aware of anyone else to be appointed to the council alongside you?” Of course, by now he already knew of Ciara’s position but it didn’t hurt to get confirmation of such matters. “Of course, we spoke a little when you visited the North,” he shook his head a little to say he’d spoken enough. Though the mention of his daughter, “aye… Mira? Was that not her name? I recall you mentioning her… I’m sure your whole family were proud of your achievement. Which is why it’s such a shame that this is where we end up don’t you think? The man meant to usher in a new golden age of peace… Killed by his own crown…”

“Yes,” the commander replied about the war, that familiar haunted, steely-glazed look in his eyes that many solders got when they thought of the war. The Golden Eagles were well-trained but also largely ceremonial, being guardians of the Keep. Fighting for the Keep, with the enemy so close to reaching the Castle, brought the reality of war to their doorstep. “Yes, Inquisitor,” he also replied with another glance. He didn’t particularly owe Lady Ciara anything now, so he stated, “Prelate Theodore, as you know. Lady Ciara Florent, and myself.” He nodded then, thinking of his now dead daughter. “We are prouder of her achievement, Inquisitor.” Another pause, respect for his child’s memory. “I am not happy this has happened. The High Raj had great plans. I think he could have benefitted this realm greatly. That crown…” He became slightly more casual then, because this was the Inquisitor and this seemed more like a discussion between two commanders, rather than an interrogation. He adjusted in his seat. “…that was no way to die. Was it poison or something, Sir? If I may ask? That’s the method of cowardly Lords and cunning Ladies, if you don’t mind me saying. If anyone challenged the High Raj to a proper duel, he would have bested them easily. I tested his mettle myself, at his request of course.” The Commander had enjoyed that, and it earned his respect of the young High Raj.

“Hm, and tell me, what did you think of your fellow council members? No doubt you had opinions of them and their potential ambitions?” Fane opted to move to take the seat opposite, no longer standing over and presiding a supposedly higher authority but maintaining the impression of equality. “Losing a child is one of the worst things to experience, I would not wish it upon even my greatest enemy” he sounded solemn and a flicker of sadness crossed his features the pain was unimaginable and he grew silent equally for his own late wife and child as much as for the Commander’s. “Venom it would appear… A cruel way to die… But he did not suffer.” Was it true? He couldn’t rightly say. “What were those plans if I might ask? Did they affect anyone in particular in a way they may not have liked? You and I know the justice of steel and taste of blood… These lordlings and their ladies who sit on their satin cushionings only know the game of masks. Which is why justice must be served to the late High Raj.”

“The Prelate is a representation of the Cloverry, and a good one. Lady Ciara was knows the Capital well, she has been installed here for a while now and her knowledge is vast. I respect them both. If you don’t mind me saying, Inquisitor, I do not think either one would ever harm the High Raj. Perhaps they might be capable of it - I suppose you could say we all were - but he chose his Council well. Their loyalty to him was profound. As was mine. We all obey the High Raj, whomever that person may be; but Avitej Sharma should have been the High Raj.” The commander didn’t seem to understand that there was any difference between poison and venom, and so just nodded respectfully. “He suffered enough,” the man spoke in a low growl, not directed at the Inquisitor, just an emotional anger at the injustice. At the Inquisitor’s question, the Commander outlined some general political strategies that the High Raj had, which could be seen as imposing or strict, but nevertheless with an effort to be fair-handed. “I suppose there are Houses who may not approve, but no one can like everything across the board. In terms of post-war recompense, I believe every major House was intended to be both taxed and rewarded equally. With the exception of House Cardero of course, being on their Islands; and begging you pardon - your House. As you did not participate in the ten years of war.” He didn’t mean to imply anything negative by that, so he added, “Not as much as other House factions.”

“So you wouldn’t say anyone had any apparent motivation to wish him removed? No eventual gain of influence?” Though the mention of loyalty caused Fane to lightly drum his fingers on the table, not enough to make noise but an indication of contemplation over what the man said. “On the topic of loyalty, and I can tell you’re a very loyal man Commander… Tell me about the tour of the crown around the Kingdoms? Were there any incidents during the journey? I know you and your men guarded it… But were there any occasions that come to mind where it was left unguarded?”

“Here? In the Castle?” The Eagle Commander frowned, his heavy brow giving him the look of a giant grizzly bear. “I don’t…dally in the politics of the nobles, Inquisitor. ” The man looked like he wasn’t sure what to say, because he wasn’t sure what he was being asked. “I apologize, but I only look after my men, and protect the High Raj and his estate as it’s kept in the Keep. I hope that satisfies you…” he said a little warily now. Because although he was somewhat complacent about this new Inquistion being installed in the Keep (mostly because he knew what sort of man Savin was) he did of course only want a new High Raj appointed again. A good High Raj ideally, but he would serve a bad High Raj if that was what the Cloverry and Inquisition decided. And he assumed the North would return to their lands once it was all over. He didn’t think Inquisitor Savin had any desire to place himself on the throne, and he hoped that wasn’t what the question was implying. “My…duty is to the High Raj,” he said, to impress on the Inquisitor what the Commander’s life was. When the Inquisitor turned away from talk of court intrigue and about the tour, the Commander physically relaxed. “I can provide my detailed records of the tour, Inquisitor. I kept a record, as per the request of Lord Sharma, and Lady Ciara. The crown held the longest stays at Blackspire, Summerset, the Kesley lands, Hathurana of course…” He also rattled off a couple other holdings in addition, both of middling power, similar to Summerset and Kesleyland. “The most visitors attended those places as well, as I recall, hence the long stays. The Princes from the Forty Isles were all in attendance at Summerset, and there was a Red Priestess or two in Hathurana, but not the Lady Priestess who attended the Coronation. Two different ladies, if I recall. It had short stays in Honeywild, the High Peninsula, Eades…” And then some other smaller lands mentioned as well. He looked down at the desk that separated them. “The crown may have been left alone on a few occasions in the larger Holdings…I would have to check my records. Or you can verify them yourself, Inquisitor.”

Fane‘s fingers curled a little on the table knuckles knocking on it momentarily. “If your duty was to the High Raj, as you say, and he charged you and your men with the task of guarding the crown. Explain to me how the item in your charge ended up being the very thing to kill him? You claim to love the man you served and yet you appear rather complicit in his demise wouldn’t you say?” His voice had grown stonier and a touch more accusatory, eyes thinning as he stared across the table aiming to make the man uncomfortable after settling him into a state of complacency. “I was led to believe your men kept vigil on the crown for its entire journey… Are you implying that isn’t what happened Lord Commander?“ his inflection grew a touch harder on certain words, to drill home the blame and guilt presently laying at the Commander’s feet.

He pushed his chair out, moving to the side table where he had placed the jug and cups earlier speaking while he poured the water out. “This doesn’t look very good Commander, at all, you and your men became lax in your royal duties and are therefore complicit in the death of the High Raj.” He poured water in one, and surreptitiously twisted a ring on his other hand, the gem swinging aside to reveal a small divot inside filled with a teal coloured powder and he emptied into the other cup before it too was filled with water. Nothing potent, of course, he wasn’t cruel but not above such tricks for getting the truth. It would mimic the symptoms of toxin, stomach cramps and the like but ultimately not do any harm. Fitting the gem back in place he turned back swilling the cups a little as he returned to his seat pushing the laced one towards the other man before a sip was taken of his own and setting it side. "What do you have to say in your defence?”

The tone shifted immediately, and the Commander stood up then, slowly so it didn’t look threatening, and assumed a stock-still at-attention stance. That of a solder being berated by his High Commander. Who, at the moment, the Inquisitor was. “If you find fault in my records, Inquisitor, then you may find me culpable of blame there. The tour was one of celebration, and although I took my best soldiers with me, their vigilance was, I admit, sometimes fractured and distracted while we were out of the Keep. If you are accusing my hand in the murder of the High Raj, however, then I respectfully deny this accusation. However, as there is no way to prove myself and your word is all that is needed to make me guilty of regicide, then - ” He blinked. “Then I understand your duty to do so.” He saw the water, and knew he was meant to drink it. Swallowing hard, the man waited for the Inquisitor to give him permission to step out of attention. He reluctantly took the water, and took a drink from it. He put the cup back down, and returned to standing at attention, his eyes forward and staring at nothing.

Fane watched the man’s features and here he stood Fane’s eyes narrowed a fraction, “sit down Commander, you shall not be leaving this room until I give you permission to do so. Where are the records presently? I shall have them fetched and brought here forthwith.” After receiving an answer and summoning one of his men to go and retrieve them, he returned to the table. “Perhaps you were lying to me about how much you loved our High Raj… Your men are loyal to you… They follow your word, and a word would be all it would take for the murderer to have the chance to tamper with the crown. Every man has a price, tell me… What was yours?”

The Commander had no intention of leaving, only in standing in order to re-establish their power dynamic: that the Inquisitor was solidly in charge and the Commander’s rank was decidedly lower, and friendly banter was over. Confused, the man sat down again, but still just stared ahead, as if sitting at attention. “Very good, Inquisitor,” he said, when Savin said he’d get the records fetched. He felt dizzy and broke out into a sweat. The man stared unhappily at the water but snapped back to attention once the Inquisitor returned to the desk. “I have no price, Inquisitor. I did not plot against the High Raj.”

Fane took no pleasure from treating another this way but to ferret out the truth it was unfortunately necessity. “No? I find that hard to believe, no one approached you, offered you anything to leave your post and let them have a closer look at the crown?”

The commander’s mouth was dry, but he refused to drink more water. The dryness was unnatural. “No, Inquisitor. I would never betray the Crown, or the High Raj.” He hated doing this, but the Commander wanted to believe that the Inquisitor was only going down this path for the sake of justice. He had to believe that, as he said, “During the tour, I was unable to stand vigilant at every hour of every day. I had to rely on my men…I had to trust my men.” Now he was angry though, appalled at the idea that perhaps, the men he’d hand-picked for the tour were not as trustworthy as he’d thought. But it was hard to concentrate. “Inquisitor…” he gripped the arms of the chair, his face turning read, nausea setting in. “Inquisitor please…I did not plot against the High Raj.”

Fane studied the mans reddening face he didn’t like having to do this, but it did seem apparent that the man was unfortunately telling the truth. He grimaced, and from his pocket produced a small white vial and slid it across the surface. “Drink this, it’ll settle the symptoms of the root” he waited wondering if the man would take him at his word. “I apologise for the necessity… But I had to ensure you spoke the truth… There’s too much treachery to trust anyone at their word these days.”

The Commander grabbed at the vial without hesitation. If the Inquisitor wanted him dead, then so be it. He was sworn to do anything for the good of the High Raj and right now the Inquisitor represented the High Raj. So he took the vial and drank its contents. He slumped forward, breathing heavily as his world was agonizingly righted again. Slowly, he tried to stand up, return to the stance he was most familiar with in the presence of someone who outranked him: standing, at attention. It was a stance of deference and respect. “I understand, Inquisitor,” he coughed. He didn’t actually understand, but it wasn’t for him to understand either. “If you will allow me to handle this matter. I will personally investigate each of the Captains who traveled on the tour. I swear to you that I will find out who stepped out of order. That is unacceptable. I will do this for the sake of the Crown and the High Raj - ” His now-red, watery eyes turned to look directly at Savin. “And for the Inquisition.”

Fane didn’t rush the man and he looked genuinely apologetic when the Commander’s eyes returned to him. As the man coughed Fane picked up his own cup and made a show of taking a sip himself to show there was nothing in it before offering it for the man to have, “here this’ll help with the cough…” But the man’s resilience in the face of what just transpired caused Fane to look at him with a newfound respect. “Very well, my Lord Commander, take some time to right yourself and when you’re able, conduct your investigation. Once you have a report give me - and only me - a full run down of what you find… We need a measure of the men in charge of the crown when you were touring. Their former and potential remaining affiliations and alliances. We need to know when the crown was at its most vulnerable… You have all the resources of the Inquisition at your disposal should you require anything.” He grew silent for a few moments pushing up straighter, “I swear on my oath as High Inquisitor that wewill find the person responsible for the Raj’s death… They will be brought to justice and pay for their crimes.”

The Commander was tempted, but shook his head at the offer of water. He’d withstood worse, in training and out in the battlefield. And now he had something to prove to the Inquisitor. The Golden Eagle Commander might not personally approve of the Inquisitor’s methods, but that didn’t mean the man thought he was ill-suited to the position of Inquisitor. There was a lot that the Prelate and the Master of Whispers did and said that he didn’t agree with either. Everyone had a job to do. He clipped his heels together, but did not salute the Inquisitor; a salute was only towards the High Raj. “Yes, Inquisitor,” he said in a clipped, militaristic voice. Emphatic and now with a new determination to find the traitor under his command. “If that’s all Inquisitor. I want to conduct my questioning before it’s learned that we have been speaking….” He growled then. “And I want to take the bastard down before he does any more damage.”

Fane gave a short nod looking over to his man by the door and giving a short nod for it to be opened. “No, nothing more, Gods be with you and your inquest Commander.”

The report came in after about a day and a half.

Only the Eagle Commander and his Eagle Captains were allowed to stand vigil with the crown. Six men in total, taking shifts in pairs so one would always be guarding at all times. Each Captain was from a different region, for the sake of impartiality, including Kesley, Blackspire, and Forty Isles. The other three from small/middling Houses included the Commander’s House itself, which was a noble House from the Capital.

The Forty Isles Captain

Angrily admitted that he was bribed to step away from the crown while they were in Summerset when there was a diversion outside to lure away the other Captain. He was bribed with Forty Isles coin, and he didn’t know for sure but the sneaky-spy-person who bribed him seemed to imply that this was the work of the Queen’s Consort Juan Carlos. Hence the Forty Isles Captain feeling loyal to Juan Carlos took the bribe.

The Kesley Captain

Following its visit to Summerset the crown then went to Kesley land, the Kesley Captain broke down and admitted that he went away from his station (while his fellow scheduled Captain was relieving himself) to go snog a mistress illicitly while they were in Kesleylands. He just didn’t think anyone in Kesley would care to tamper with the crown, because Kesley supported House Sharma.

Both the Kesley Captain and the Forty Isles Captain were arrested and put in prison. The Forty Isles Captain, however, found a way to kill himself.

#got scene

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hollenka99 · 6 years ago

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Lost and Found

Summary: Jameson spends time with his kids, creates one of his most famous shorts and a jazz singer threatens to kill the Jolly Gentleman.

Warnings: Reference to blackface,

September 10, 1923 Dear Mother,

Already, Anthony is in middle school. He has begun attending Joseph Le Conte Middle School. They only began admitting students last year. Therefore, his class is only the second to join the school at sixth grade. I asked him what he thought of this but he seems to be nonchalant to a degree.

In your last letter, you spoke of your hands. I am empathetic. I understand not wanting time to leave you behind. For you, it is the inability to sew because of your osteoarthritis. For me, it's the inability to speak properly due to my vocal cord paresis. I am willing to bet genuine dollars that they will discover a way to incorporate sound into the pictures and make the shift within a decade. I have half-heartedly made peace with my limitations. I fear it's long due that you do the same with yours.

Don't make any dolls for any of your younger granddaughters, not if it is guaranteed to be at your expense. If you're dead set on sending such a gift, ask Mabel to help you with crafting it. Please don't abuse yourself. That is the last thing any of us wishes for.

Yours, Jameson

December 4, 1923 Dear Jameson,

I recall you saying Floyd was a 'ghastly name'. I am guessing you never said that to Clifford. I doubt you ever will now. Especially with his birthday and Christmas almost upon us.

Yours, Mabel

December 18, 1923 Dear Mabel,

Please do not bring that up. When he announced the name to us, I held my tongue. Why Floyd? Of all the names he could have chosen to bestow upon his son, why is God's name did he pick Floyd? Not only that, what on earth possessed him to prefer Floyd to Lloyd? Lloyd is a perfectly good name, it is practically the same and I am sure it is more popular too. Who even calls their child Floyd anymore? By my guess, this time next century, Floyd will grow so unpopular in favour of Lloyd that it will be a rare occurrence to meet one.

Still, he is our nephew. I do struggle to imagine how he went from Louise to Floyd. Louise is such a pretty name for a girl. When Siobhan was pregnant with Sophia, it was one of the names we considered. If in two months we have another daughter, we may opt for Grace, Victoria or Eleanora, now that Louise is off the table. Should you also have a daughter next month, I'd ask you not to steal those names. This business is already tricky enough without reducing our options.

If Floyd wishes to change his name once he comes of age, I won't blame the boy.

Yours, Jameson

Harriet Victoria Jackson Female February 8, 1924 Los Angeles Siobhan O'Hara Jameson Jackson

February 9, 1924 Dear Mother,

We have finally been blessed with the second daughter we had been hoping for. Therefore, six grandchildren is all you're getting out of me. At least there won't be any more debates between myself and Siobhan.

We've given her the name Harriet Victoria. She was born late last night which, yes, means her birthday is February 8th. I was aware it was a possibility but I convinced myself the chances were unrealistically smaller. I don't seem to have much luck when it comes to when my daughters are born, do I? If they're not being born far too early, they're born on what should have been their uncle's 44th birthday.

Her name is deliberate. We both like Harriet and Victoria but couldn't decide between them, among other contenders. We almost picked Eleanora. However, once she was actually born, Harriet Victoria seemed to be the perfect combination. It is fitting for her birthday.

Yours, Jameson

April 29, 1924 Pearl,

Do you mind fixing the stitches on Sophia's new doll? Mother barely managed to get the thing to stay intact. With her osteoarthritis, I'm surprised she got as far as she did.

I don't want to rush you but I would prefer if it was done quickly. I spun a tale about the doll needing the night to get used to America. Sophia believes the toy is going to explore our sitting room as she sleeps.

I am sorry for asking this of you at such short notice. You know how I hate to be a burden. With your expertise, there is no doubt you will do a fine job.

You have my eternal thanks, Jameson

May 1, 1924 Dear Mother,

On Sophia's behalf, I'd like to thank you for the doll you made for her birthday. She adores and refuses to part with it. You certainly succeeded in making her happy.

She may love it unconditionally but it makes me uneasy. I know it must have caused a great deal of pain to make it. Your hands aren't the same as they were when I was six years old. You were even struggling when I was preparing to get married. That was 14 years ago. You should stop pushing your hands past their limits. It must hurt you to do basic tasks such as cooking. Why would you deliberately put yourself through it for your granddaughter's sake? You could have gotten Mabel to do the stitching for you. Sophia would not treasure the doll any less.

Hoping you are caring for yourself, Jameson

July 13, 1924 Jameson,

Would you be able to visit Saint John this summer? I feel this may be your last chance to bid farewell to the house we grew up in.

The truth is I am debating whether I should sell it. I know, it is a major development that possibly seems to have come from nowhere. In actuality, this has been on my mind for a while. Edward keeps me in better comfort than our parents did. This isn't about increasing our prospects. I'd never be that selfish. The issue is our mother. She can't stay there forever. Half the time, I'm visiting her to help with the chores she cannot do any longer.

She is stubborn though. I'm afraid that is a trait you've gotten from her. It isn't like you were the only one she passed that irritating habit to. We all have first-hand experience with that. I am coaxing her with unlimited access to my children. I'd like to believe that aspect is causing her resolve to slowly wane. Nevertheless, she wishes to stay in the home she's lived in since the 70s. No reminder of Granny living with us sways her either. She only replies with the fact her own mother lived the entirety of her widowhood without requiring to move to her child's house. What Mother neglects to acknowledge is that Grandma's husband was a headmaster while she ended up marrying a labourer. The difference in salaries is considerable. By this point, I can only assume the largest factor is vanity. God forbid she has to end up like her mother-in-law.

I spoken to Edith. She has supported my argument. Infuriatingly, Mother doesn't see her viewpoint as entirely valid anymore. Since announcing her impending marriage, Mother hasn't been quite as warm towards Edith. She states the only connection they share is Edith's daughters. Expressing my opinions is futile.

Still, my offer stands. Visit the house before anything is finalised. After all, she cannot remain in that house alone. I will have to sell that house despite not wanting to part with it either. The three of you in California can easily pay the bills for her with your routine sending of money to Canada. As much as I wish finances were the issue, therefore making my plans unnecessary, it is instead her health. Unless some madman attempts to replace her hands with a younger version, there is no other option for her other than to partially relinquish her independence.

Wishing you well, Mabel

July 30, 1924 Mabel,

The three of us have been discussing this matter between us. We agree with you. However, we think there is a better solution. One of us could buy the house from you. That way, Mother will live with you and be under your care but none of us will have to bid farewell to such an important part of our lives.

Tell us when it would best suit you for us to arrive in Saint John for any negotiations necessary.

Yours, Clifford, Jameson and Pearl

November 6, 1924 Dear all,

I came across a compilation of Wilfred Owen's poetry recently. I decided to buy the book. It is fitting for this time of year.

'Dolce et Decorum Est' struck a nerve with me. I was angered by the message but not in disagreement. In fact, I could hardly read past the second stanza. I was fine with the imagery of soldiers marching across the trenches wearily. However, it is difficult to read a description of a man 'drowning' from gas when your own brother suffered a similar fate. I don't know whether the type of gas mentioned in the poem is the same Harvey inhaled but the vivid image is harrowing to picture nonetheless. Yet, I persevered and reached the end. The last two rhyming couplets forced me to sit in my chair simply to absorb them fully. A Latin phrase is used, translating into 'It is sweet and fitting to die for one's country'. Never was there a saying so incorrect.

I enquired about Owen himself, only to learn the poor bastard met his end a week before the war met its own. A year younger than Pearl too. I'm glad his loved ones strived to publish his poems. People should read them and have a better understanding of what those men truly experienced. There was that ridiculous propaganda poster several years ago that I always hated. It was the one with two children asking their father what he did during the war, implying he did not enlist and was therefore less of a man. If any of my six were to question me, I'd tell them I tried to bring some laughter to such tragic times. That is an admirable feat to attempt.

I'll leave you with the lines that moved me.

My friend, you would not tell in such high zest To children ardent for some desperate glory, The old lie: Dulce et decorum est Pro patria mori.

Yours, Jameson

January 9, 1925 Dear all,

Yesterday, we returned home from our holiday visit to Ireland. It's been too long since I set foot in the country. Siobhan has taken the children to see their grandfather and uncle occasionally. Unfortunately, there never ceases to be something or other preventing me from taking my leave to join them. Until now, that is.

The chorea has begun to set in, leaving his handling of utensils clumsy. Throughout our stay, Michael was as irritable and impulsive as Henry or Theodore can be in their worst moments. He is in the intermediate stage, their father tells me. He has also relayed to me how my brother-in-law's dependence on him is increasing, some examples of which I have witnessed first-hand. Having never met an individual with the condition, I must say it was quite the shock. Siobhan warned me about he may behave. I still wasn't prepared. Neither, it seems, was Siobhan. Though, that is to be expected. After all, Michael is her brother.

Siobhan pulled me to one side last night, shortly after we sent the children to their own beds. She asked if I was willing to let her return to Limerick once the time comes for her father to require assistance. I understand it's expected for her to 'obey' me as her husband but the notion I would deny her request is preposterous. This Christmas wasn't some experiment to sway my views. Her brother is chronically ill and, however much we wish it wasn't the case, he is most certainly going to die from his illness. How could I refuse to allow her to help a dying man, especially when he is family?

I will say this, I am dreading her leaving. Although it may be years away right now, she will have to leave. I am going to miss her dearly when she does. Not only that, when she finally returns to us, there's no doubt the experience will change her. I am unequipped to provide her with adequate comfort.

Yours, Jameson

May 14, 1925 Dear Mother,

I seem to be in a creative slump. All I ever seem to do is adapt previous works or allow my writings be based on historical events. Everyone appears to be interested in creating another story inspired by cowboys and the wild west. The local landscape allows for that. I don't particularly care for the genre.

Anthony is at that awkward age where I can no longer use him as a child nor can I pass him off as a young man yet. He's enquiring if there are any roles he can fill. I despise having to constantly turn him down. The boy wants to follow in my footsteps professionally. I have the power to help with that, provide him with an advantage most won't have. It frustrates me when I am unable to do so.

If you have any plot ideas to send me, especially ones that involve a thirteen year old boy, I'd be much obliged.

Yours, Jameson

August 16, 1925 Dear all,

We spent a few days to see the Redwoods in North California. I've been wanting to come face to face with them for a while. They are larger than I'd expected, this coming from someone who had already braced himself for a massive tree. To some's disappointment, they are impossible to climb due to their width and lack of low-lying branches.

It's good that we've shown them nature. They're being raised in a city, same as their parents, and not exposed to woods or rivers. Sophia thrives in this environment. Henry usually sticks by her so he has a better chance of coming across wild animals. Theodore tags along as well, likely to be part of their group. I usually asked Anthony to keep an eye on them whenever we were preoccupied with Harriet or the dogs. We didn't bring Lyra with us, unfortunately. At her age, she wouldn't have enjoyed all the stress of travelling.

I recall promising to stay by Sophia's side should she ever need the company when she was born. Instead, I'm giving her things to keep her busy because she broke her leg while exploring near our campsite. She's trying her hand at whittling which she has taken to thus far. Additionally, Theodore stole a potato from his dinner plate a few days ago. It's since had pins stuck in it and a smiling face drawn on one side. He has been named George. I will have to dispose of George when he stops looking so fresh.

Yours, Jameson

October 6, 1925 Dear all,

After asking around, I have found an outlet that will suit both Sophia and Henry. It's an organisation founded roughly 15 years ago by a British couple. It encourages children to develop into upstanding citizens through earning badges and camping. The Americans adopted it not long after. Canada must have introduced the organisation earlier than the US, considering it's part of the Empire.

Girl Scouts begin at age 5 with Brownies, which I understand to be mythical creatures. When she is 10, Sophia will move on to become an Intermediate and thereafter a Senior after her 14th birthday. Likewise, Cubs are the first stage of Boy Scouts until the boy turns 11 whereupon he will be promoted to a Scout.

The two of them look smart in their uniforms, don't you think? The photographs were taken as soon as they returned home from their first meetings. They're demonstrating their variants of the salute. Girl Scouts have their three fingers to the side while Boy Scouts are more militaristic by having their hand next to their head.

They enjoyed their first meetings so hopefully, this is a sign their enrollments were a successful move.

Yours, Jameson

November 10, 1925 Dear all,

Has 'Carving For Beginners' reached you at the Imperial yet? I am hoping to learn of your reactions as soon as possible.

This short heavily involves the children. For instance, the pumpkins at the front? Those are all carved by Oliver and Sophia. Henry scooped along with Theodore. For some reason, Sophia specifically wants credit for the wide one. The accompanying music? Siobhan's own composition. Anthony is the one who hands me the knife halfway through.

Can you guess who was responsible for clean up? That's correct, myself and Siobhan. I will give Anthony credit where it is due. We were all meant to take part in the disposal of waste materials. While the others wandered off after becoming bored, he stayed behind to finish the job. We couldn't finish fast enough. My love for preparing pumpkins with the children just about surpasses my hatred for the smell. The Gentleman doesn't exaggerate on that.

Some of the title cards were inspired by things that happened while the five of them were preparing the pumpkins. Ollie struggled to get the lid off his pen and begrudgingly accepted my help. The pumpkin screams after the Jolly Gentleman makes the first cut because Theodore held one in front of his face before roaring like he was some pumpkin monster.

I wrote this short for them, almost as if the Jolly Gentleman was instructing them on the practise. I cannot express how much fun I've had whilst making it. I should make another short involving them behind the scenes before sound is introduced to film. I'll likely wait a couple years so Harriet may be old enough to be included.

Still detecting the faint smell of pumpkin somewhere, Jameson

February 24, 1926 Dear Mother,

Recently, I've been reflecting on the events of February 1897. A lot happened. I became afflicted with something we had never come across previously. There was a race for Father and Harvey to get their wages. I played soccer with Clifford before he sent me to bed because my heart was beating unnaturally fast. Harvey sprinted whilst carrying me because he was a faster runner than Father and I woke delirious that morning. Then, after all that, we celebrated your birthday while I was recovering from the operation.

This is somewhat of a tangent but do you recall me saying I was stuck for ideas? I have one but I'd be extremely surprised if you approved of it. It involves a boy named James and his twin sister Olivia, eternally nine and two years of age. Their names are non-negotiable. If they are grounds enough for you to think less of me then I'm sorry to hear that. But this censorship outstayed its welcome years ago.

I want to honour her. I think you forget I came close to losing a daughter myself. I respect that isn't the same but I'm certainly closer to understanding than Mabel, Clifford or Pearl. The story won't be published in your lifetime either, if at all. This project is for my benefit.

I apologize for being blunt but I am not prepared to stay silent on the matter any longer. I promise it will be tasteful.

Yours, Jameson

April 30, 1926 Dear all,

Would you say I am an irresponsible father for bestowing my daughter a penny knife for her eighth birthday? Fear not, I haven't thrown caution to the wind.

There are some conditions Sophia must adhere to if she wishes to make full use of her present. She cannot use it without one of us supervising nor can she have it on her person when she isn't working with it. It will be securely stored away during those times, somewhere her brothers and Harriet are unable to access it either.

In the very least, this will save our kitchen knives from being used to artistically mutilate sticks. Working with wood seems to be her calling at the moment. She will whittle and craft wooden figures whether we approve or not. We may as well give her the tools so she may move past this phase to seek safer pursuits.

Henry questioned if he was receiving a similar present in September. Certainly not.

Yours, Jameson

August 2, 1926 Dear Mother,

Well, we've returned to the place it all began. The journey was a little chaotic with a party of eight travelling the width of the country. If anything, our time in New York has made me realise it's been a while since I relied solely on a bicycle for transport.

Ollie sounds like he has set himself high standards for his future. When he overheard his mother and I discussing the city while planning the trip, he became interested in learning more about Julliard. Now he's seen the building, he's motivated to attend. I've advised him to slow down a notch. He's still in elementary school. If anyone should be considering their education past their eighteenth birthday, it should be Anthony. Even so, he still has a few more days of being thirteen and won't begin high school until next month.

The time for college is not yet upon any of them. Should Oliver wish to apply to Julliard in several years and be accepted, I will be exceptionally proud of him. Even more so if he finds success thereafter. Moving to America at the age of 18 was risky, even with my brother by my side. I can't imagine moving to the other side of the country alone at that age. Still, if we were able to make things work in our favour, I can't see why Ollie can't.

And how could we visit New York without checking in on our favourite statue? When I retold the story of our joint trip to the Statue of Liberty and the revelation I had during it, the reactions were mixed. I don't mind. The only person whose approval of the story I need is Siobhan's.

Yours, Jameson

September 19, 1926 Dear all,

Today marks 20 years since Cliff and I first settled in New York. That city changed our lives in more ways than one. Despite all the grief we got from Edison's lot and their schemes, I look back on New York fondly. I'm glad I went there this summer. Due to all this reminiscing, I managed to dig out all my old records. Let me tell you, it was quite the trip down Memory Lane. I was almost 20 years old again.

'Streets of New York' was the first ever song I heard Siobhan sing, you know. Later, once we'd gotten to know each other, she confessed to me the song made her uncomfortable. Given its contents, I am not entirely surprised. That song earned her a lot of unwelcome attention. I can only imagine how many men asked her which street they could associate her with. In fact, she admitted to me earlier she was wary of me when I first approached her.

'Arrah Wanna', now that is a song. Oh, I remember how 'Mrs Barney, heap much Carney from Killarney's Isle' used to be my favourite sentence, even more so when Siobhan said it. Whenever I visited her apartment, she'd sing it in the thickest brogue she could muster in an effort to make me laugh. In response, I'd try impress her by playing 'Frog Legs Rag'. That tune's not an easy one. Good for a dance though. 'The Entertainer' as well. I think we played those two together on various occasions.

All of these songs mean a lot to me. However, none of the above could claim the title of my favourite of the era. That undoubtedly goes to 'The Galloping Major'. I cannot count the amount of times Cliff would play while I acted the part of the Major himself.

One time, likely at some point during 1907, the two of us spent an evening drinking. We may have recounted the Major's misadventures a little too enthusiastically. Our landlord paid us a visit after hearing complaints from our neighbours. How could we be too loud? Gramophones possess just two volume settings: On and Off. They've only devised a way to change that recently. Nevertheless, as soon as we rid ourselves of him, Clifford sang 'Nobody' and 'Moving Day' as loudly as his voice allowed him. I must have attacked the keys to match him.

On reflection, I'm surprised we weren't evicted for being highly disruptive under the influence. Not to mention Cliff was barely of age to drink so I certainly wasn't. The man could have landed me in dire trouble if he so wished. It's a good thing he was ignorant enough to believe I went about my day lacking sandwiches to picnics. I would have been fine in California. College freshmen could drink alcohol before the prohibition.

I noticed Anthony's face blanked when he truly listened to the lyrics. Yes, I'm afraid the song he associates with me giving him piggy-back rides when he was small isn't quite as innocent as he recalls. On the other end of the spectrum, Theodore probably has a year or so before he becomes too big for me to carry him as well.

Yours, Jameson

November 1, 1926 Dear all,

I've just read about Houdini in the papers. On my birthday, no less. What an odd coincidence. Although, the method of death appears to elude the reporters. I'm sure those who deal with this sort of thing need time to come to their conclusions. The man only died yesterday. Not everything is so obvious. I do, however, like to entertain the idea it'll remain as much of a mystery as his methods were in life. It seems fitting.

When I saw him, he'd recently retired his handcuff act due to an increase in imitators. Was it 1908 or '09? I can't recall. Definitely before we left New York. I took Siobhan with me to see him. The atmosphere that day was so good I almost wish I could revisit it. All these posters, promising you that 'Failure Means a Drowning Death' got us riled up for a great show. During his Milk Can routine, he'd invite an audience member or two on stage to hold their breath with him. Neither of us were lucky enough to be involved that way. I will say, the curtains were a bit of a cop-out on his part. His shows must have been more exciting when you could watch him escape.

He retired the Milk Can too. I always did plan to see his act once more. I would have liked to witness him escaping from that Water Tank of his for myself. Work, family and life in general prevented me from doing so. That's how it is sometimes.

Regardless, I hope his family will be allowed to grieve in private. I suspect Hardeen will carry on performing without his brother. He always came across as the plus one to me. I'm sure I remember seeing posters referring to him as 'Brother of Houdini'. Hardeen was the one who opened the curtains during acts. He made worthy contributions himself. Perhaps this unfortunate turn of events will allow the public to see that for themselves.

Yours, Jameson

December 30, 1926 Dear all,

Christmas in our household has been another success. Theodore, especially, has found himself quite happy with his lot. We bought him Winnie The Pooh by A. A. Milne. It tells some tales of a bear having fun with his friends, who know him as 'Pooh', in the woods they live in. I bet he would have dragged his two favourite siblings to go find sticks to throw into a stream, had we not stopped him. The next time we are in Saint John, I will make sure I bring the three of them to play this stick game on Reversing Falls Bridge.

Sophia has requested if she may have some felt and stuffing for a 'special project'. I'm looking forward to seeing what she creates for him. You'd be proud of how much her skill with a needle is improving. Not only that, I'm certain Theodore will enjoy the handmade gift too.

Nevertheless, I hope you had a good Christmas and we all wish you a pleasant 1927.

Yours, Jameson

April 14, 1927 Dear Mother,

A young woman arrived in Los Angeles with her brother several days ago. They waited for us outside the studios when we were heading to work. They are in California because she has applied to the school of medicine in Stanford. They claim they wished to see the state properly before she moves to Stanford later this year. Their journey must have been long seeing as Stanford is hours away by train and the duo hail from New York City.

Clara doesn't look anything like Clifford but there is something about her that strikes me as odd. I cannot explain it. When she smiles, I am immediately reminded of Father. It is nearly identical. If you saw it, I am sure you would make the same connection. While she doesn't appear to have inherited more of her looks from either parent, Daniel very much has gotten his appearance from his mother, at least from how I remember her.

Daniel, from what Cliff has relayed to me, is interested in pursuing studies in business once he is his sister's age. He shares that quality with his father, it seems. Back when we were living in New York and founding what was then Jackson Brothers Productions, I may have been the one overseeing things from the ground but Cliff has always been the one truly adopting the leadership role. I sincerely hope his boy succeeds in any business endeavours he sets his mind to.

The biggest mystery to me is how the two of them are 18 and 15 respectively. I was aware Clara is a year older than Alice and Daniel has a year on Anthony. That knowledge doesn't translate to actually seeing them before me as young adults. It is incomprehensible to me that the young children I once knew are practically adults now. At 14, Anthony is fast maturing to the point of becoming a man. I had been under the assumption that he would be the first Jackson to attend college. Yet, here he is, presumably demoted to the position of third. He appears to be slightly disappointed to have lost his bragging rights. I've reminded him all is not lost, he can still truthfully say he was one of the first in our family to receive a degree. Even so, he has no clue what exactly he wishes to study when the time comes.

Clifford has advised them to visit Canada if they ever found the opportunity. If they are willing to reach out to their father, they may be willing to extend that to his family. For now, they have returned to the east so they may celebrate Easter with their mother.

He has also refused to cease speaking about the few days he was able to spend with them. My ears are half spoken off from his ecstasy. I won't complain. He has regained a vigour he lost so long ago I'd forgotten he had ever possessed it in the first place. I have enjoyed acquainting myself with his eldest children. Some of my children briefly met their cousins as well. Henry has been enthusiastic about the discovery of Clara pursuing a career in medicine. He already plans to write to her on the subject.

Yours, Jameson

June 1, 1927 Dear all,

I am set to become a father for the seventh time shortly before Christmas. I know, we had planned for Harriet to be our youngest. It's always the way, isn't it?

We are hoping for another girl, purely because Siobhan would prefer the boy-girl ratio to even out. I wouldn't mind either but another daughter sounds appealing. Whichever sex the child is, I won't get to see their earliest years.

Michael's condition is worsening. I suspect he has a handful of years left. As such, Siobhan will move back to Limerick to help her father care for him. She plans to leave in January. I know she would go earlier, were she not pregnant. There is no way she would leave the baby with me. An infant needs its mother. As such, you won't be able to meet them until after she returns.

Nevertheless, I don't wish to dwell on the negative. The birth is months away. I will have to make the most of the short weeks with this new addition before I have to bid them and Siobhan farewell for an indefinite period.

Yours, Jameson

September 8, 1927 Dear Mother,

Theodore has entered kindergarten but instead of being excited, he is feeling down because Oliver has now begun his time at Joseph Le Conte. I don't understand why he is so upset by this. It is not as if school is the only place he could see his brother. Theodore acts as if he does not have Sophia and Henry at Selma Avenue also. They're in 4th and 2nd grade respectively. If this has anything to do with having a brother at the top of the elementary hierarchy, what can I say? He will do fine with those two looking out for him.

If anything, he should strive to avoid finding himself in as much trouble as they do. The two of them got a caning across their hands in the summer after an incident with a sparrow caused them to skip a class. While I sympathise with them, discipline is there for a reason. Better a ruler now than an actual cane later. I could tell them a story or two about the times I've returned to my desk for an uncomfortable remainder of the day. Knowing the trouble Cliff got himself into, he can probably beat me tenfold in regards to anecdotes.

What's worse than all that is the fact we are still very much missing Lyra. Holly and Woodrow may be able to fit on our laps but that doesn't compare to the way Lyra would curl up besides the children when they played on the floor. It broke my heart to have her put down. Siobhan loved her slightly more than I did. After all, Lyra was meant to be her dog and she spent more time with Lyra than I did. She was always a sweetheart and so gentle towards the children, even when they were young and not so gentle towards her. Holly and Woodrow also appear to be missing her. Still, she was thirteen and I could see old age was bothering her. Human and canine alike are sticking by each other's side to comfort ourselves with the other's company.

Yours, Jameson

October 18, 1927 Dear all,

The future of the pictures has finally come.

Despite everything, I'm not bitter enough to ask you don't give the Warner brothers your money. Truth be told, 'The Jazz Singer' isn't terrible. Although, I still retain the opinion that blackface looks ridiculous. Actors need to improve their make up or find a genuine black person who wants to act. I haven't come across one yet. The majority of them sing instead. They write great music too.

It doesn't matter. I'm going to try not be impressed we now have the technology to have dialogue and singing all synchronised to the visuals. It's over, what more is there for me to say on the matter? I'm on borrowed time professionally. My Gentleman is going to be left to gather dust.

It's ironic, isn't it? My youngest child will grow up not watching silent pictures when their father was a big name of the era. I almost want to laugh at that.

Failing to be optimistic, Jameson

Eleanora Margaret Jackson Female December 11, 1927 Los Angeles Siobhan O'Hara Jameson Jackson

December 31, 1927 Dear all,

How was your Christmas?

Mine was spent making the most of my time with my third daughter. We've named her Eleanora, although she'll be known as Nora. She is going to be 3 weeks old tomorrow.

I have little over a week left with Nora. Every time one of my children was born, I enjoyed having them in my arms. I loved wondering what kind of individual they would become. Doing so with Nora causes a faint, unexplainable dread to rise in me. Many of her firsts will be on Irish soil, far away from me. Who is to say she won't return and be literate.

I know I have six other children, all of whom are dependent on me to varying degrees. I just can't stop hating the feeling of missing out. Like the rest of them, I want to be as much of a part of Nora's life as I am able. I suppose I should think of Siobhan. Lord knows how much she will miss. I lose one but she won't be able to see six. I really should stop these foolishly selfish thoughts.

Wishing you a happy new year, Jameson

#the life of jameson jackson #tlojj #jameson jackson #jacksepticeye #writersofjack #my writing #crosspost #originally posted on Quotev and AO3 on Jan 7th 2018 #spot the easter eggs

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kimtaehyungrykim · 7 years ago

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Doctor I Need You: Chapter 6

a/n: I know it’s been a while since I’ve last updated, I sincerely apologize for that. School has really been holding me back on updating and it didn’t help that I had writers’ block. But I finally finished Chapter 6! YAY! And this chapter is a little longer than the older chapters so enjoy!

Chapter Summary: Son Soojin’s execution date is in 2 days, but she’s refusing to have surgery and might as well die “on Taeyong’s watch”. Jisoo and Xiumin have a 10 year old patient that needs a new liver and intestine. What choices will the doctors make when the 10 year old boy down the hall is dying and the only organs that match are those of a murderer who wants out of her execution?

Prologue / Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / to be determined

Warnings: *Taeyong’s backstory is very dark*, mentions of murder, surgery

Rating: M

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Romance

Characters and their roles:

Attendings:

You (Head of Cardiothoracic Surgery)

Dr. Kim Jisoo (Head of General Surgery)

Dr. Kim Seokjin (Jin) (Attending Anesthesiologist)

Dr. Lee Taeyong (Head of Trauma Surgery)

Dr. Kim Taeyeon (Head of Neurosurgery)

Dr. Kim Xiumin (Head of Pediatric surgery)

Dr. Park Leeteuk (Chief of Surgery)

Residents:

Dr. Jeon Wonwoo (5th year Surgical Resident)

Dr. Nakamoto Yuta (5th year Surgical Resident)

Dr. Park Rosé (5th year Surgical Resident)

Dr. Park Joy (5th year Surgical Resident)

Dr. Kim Mingyu (5th year Surgical Resident)

Songs to play while reading, I’ll point out where:

Dream - BolBBalgan4

The Funeral - Band of Horses

Lost Stars - BTS Jungkook (cover)

I Love You - BTS Jin (cover)

“Compassion is an action word with no boundaries” - Prince

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

(Play Dream)

Taeyong got a page at 3:30 in the morning, he rushed down to the hospital and ran to Soojin’s room.

“Aw man, I told them not to call you here,” Soojin groaned, “Whatever it is could’ve waited till morning, Dr. Taeyong needs his beauty sleep doesn’t he?”

Taeyong ignored her, “Your head CT’s show that your brain contusions are expanding. I need to get you in the OR right away.”

“This brain thing, could it kill me?”

“If we don’t treat it, yes.”

Soojin bursted out in laughter.

“You think that’s funny?” Taeyong scoffed.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that they’re gonna execute me in 2 days. Might as well take my chances with the brain thing am I right?” Soojin smirked, “I mean, it’s a nice way to go. With a nice attractive doctor next to me, all the jello I want-”

“Are you refusing surgery?” Taeyong cut her off.

“Either way, I’m going to die. Might as well do it on your watch.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jisoo stood outside her patient’s room waiting for Dr. Xiumin.

“I’m here! I’m here! What’s wrong?” Dr Xiumin ran up to her.

“Woojin’s B.P, it’s a little down from yesterday. If we make a few calls, get a little pushy, maybe could we get him bumped a few spots up the transplant list-”

“Dr. Jisoo, you paged me 9-1-1 at 3:30 in the morning to what? To chat?” Xiumin scoffed.

“You like to chat, you’re chatty-”

“Not at 3:30 in the morning! Look, he’s only 10, he’s very close to the top of the list, we’ll find him his organs when we find him his organs but staying up all night chatting about this will not help,” Xiumin started walking away, “I’m gonna go back to sleep, I suggest you do the same.”

Jisoo stopped him, “He’s running out of time!”

“They always are, welcome to pediatrics.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were going over Soojins charts when Taeyong spotted you, the two of you walked into Soojin’s room.

“The swelling in your brain is increasing rapidly, the longer we wait the worse it gets,” Taeyong informed her.

She smiled, “Excellent. Go team.”

“I strongly suggest you reconsider surgery.”

“Have you ever seen the inside of a maximum security prison?”

Taeyong shook his head.

“Believe me, if you had to die, this is the place to do it.”

Taeyong turned to you, “Vigilantly monitor Ms. Soojin’s elevating I.C.P.s, hourly neuro exams, when she goes unconscious which she will, we’ll rush her to surgery-”

“You can’t do that,” Soojin interrupted, “Can he do that?”

“When you’re unconscious and can’t make sound medical decisions, a 2-doctor consent is all we need to treat you”

“My god!” Soojin groaned, “I’m gonna be dead as a doornail in 2 days, Dr. Y/n you’re a reasonable-”

“We’re done here!” Taeyong cut her off.

“Do you fix your broken television before you throw it out?” Soojin called out.

“She’s got a point,” You said.

Taeyong left the room.

You started wheeling Soojin out of the room for her neuro exam.

There was a long silence between you two before she spoke, “You’re upset.”

“I don’t get upset with patients.”

“You’re mad at me for killing all those people, I get that,” Soojin sighed, “Would it help if you knew I was abused as a kid? Every day, it’s how I learned to read. I used to hide under the sink and sound out the letters in the detergent bottles.”

“Is that true?”

“Did it make you feel better?”

Jisoo was wheeling her patient Woojin to the elevator as well, his eyes lit up when he saw the handcuffs attached to Soojin.

“Cool!” He exclaimed, “Did you do something bad?”

Soojin smirked at the kid, “Traffic violation.”

You gestured Jisoo to take the elevator first.

“What’s wrong with you kid?” Soojin asked.

“I need a new liver and intestine.”

“Really? You want mine?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jisoo spotted Xiumin in the attending’s lounge where he was having his lunch. She walked over and slammed a piece of paper in front of him.

“What the-”

“I’ve made a list of the best pediatric G.I.’s in the country. If we can get one of these guys to come down and do a TIPS procedure on Woojin.”

“A TIPS procedure on a kid that needs a new liver?” Xiumin scoffed, “That’s like putting a bandaid on a bullet wound.”

“Do you have a better idea?”

“Waiting for that call, trust the process. Why can’t you do that-”

“Because!” Jisoo snapped, “I’m tired. I’m so damn tired of waiting for that call when this kid is getting worse! Woojin’s tired, his mother’s tired, the only person who’s happy to sit on his ass and twiddle his thumbs and wait is you!”

“Whoa. I’ve been patient with you. But you know what, I am really over you constantly telling me how I should do my job-”

Wonwoo knocked on the door.

“Someone has to!”

“Hey,” Wonwoo said.

Xiumin scoffed, “I have 20 other kids in this hospital!”

“Hey,” Wonwoo repeated.

“I’m concerned about this one child-”

“SHUT UP!” Wonwoo shouted, “Respectfully. Respectfully shut up. Because we’ve got organs.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Play The Funeral)

Wonwoo and Xiumin left to pick picked up the organs.

“I wished you could get organs delivered or something, I hate flying,” Xiumin complained, “I feel a lot closer to death flying than in the O.R. don’t you?”

“I do now.”

“So, Taeyong and Y/n. I never thought they’d even make eye contact let alone get together. But hey, that’s like movie love isn’t it? If they do get together, that’s gonna be one hell of a story, right?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well we’re at that age right? Crushes, dating, marriage, babies, that’s the plan right?”

“I don’t know!” Wonwoo snapped, “I’m sorry. I don’t make plans okay? If there’s a future there great, if not, whatever.”

“I heard that there’s this heat between Jisoo and Jin. I don’t know both of them very well but I think that it would be interesting to see more of them-”

“What is wrong with you?” Wonwoo blurted out.

“What?”

“We just took a liver and an intestine from a little kid- A dead little kid- and you don’t even care. You’re talking about rainbows and relationships and gossiping and crap. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“You don’t think I know that they just pulled the plug on a kid? Do you not think that I get that? You don’t think I know about the tiny, tiny coffin they’re gonna stick them in? I know about the tiny coffins. I see them everywhere, in my sleep. So, if you don’t mind, I’m gonna continue talking rainbows and relationships and gossiping and crap. And I’m gonna make plans for tomorrow, because that’s what you do Wonwoo. Make plans. Turn your back on the tiny coffins and face forward...to the next kid.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You went to check up on Soojin. As always, there was that long moment of silence between the two of you as the sounds of the monitor beeps filled the air. Soojin spoke first.

“Did you know they let you choose?” Soojin asked, “Hanging, or lethal, you get to pick your poison. Which one would you choose? Medically speaking, which one’s...better?”

The sounds of the monitor hums filled the silence, you grabbed all the charts and headed towards the door. You stopped and turned around.

“With hanging, your neck breaks, which severs your spinal cord and causes your blood pressure to drop to nothing and lose consciousness. You don’t actually die until after several minutes. With lethal injection, they inject an anesthetic and put you to sleep. Then a paralytic which stops your diaphragm and lungs, then potassium, which stops your heart.”

Soojin nodded, “Was, um...was I a match for the boy?”

“Yes.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Xiumin and Wonwoo returned to the hospital and were in the O.R. finishing the surgery on Woojin. Joy sat up in the gallery looking over the whole thing, bummed out that all she can do today is watch over surgeries.

Joy sat there crossed armed, she looked at the monitor filming the surgery when she saw something odd. Joy stood up from her chair and looked at the screen a little closer.

“Oh shit,” Joy whispered, she pressed on the intercom but it wasn’t working, “No no no no!”

She bolted out of the gallery and into the O.R., Jisoo and Xiumin were about finished when Joy came running in.

“Wait! There’s a spot on the duodenum!”

Xiumin and Jisoo’s eyes averted back to the patient on the table.

Jisoo spotted it too, “What the hell is that?”

Jisoo and Xiumin were in a state of panic.

“He’s clotting and clotting and clotting!” Jisoo yelled out in frustration.

“Is there a source?” Xiumin asked.

“This can’t be happening,” Jisoo muttered under her breath, “This cannot be happening, not to this little boy. This is not happening. This is not happening.”

“These organs are dead Dr. Jisoo,” Xiumin said the words no one wanted to hear, “Keeping them in him is making him sicker. This is doing more harm than good.”

“NO! I can just-”

“He’ll die if you leave them in-”

“He’ll die if I take them out!”

Joy raised her hand, “Maybe you guys could try a Portacaval Shunt. It’ll keep the circulation going and bypass the liver.”

Jisoo shook her head, “That’s just a temporary fix.”

“Anybody got any better ideas?” Xiumin asked.

Everyone shook their heads.

“Then I don’t see what choice we have, Dr. Jisoo.”

“How much time do we have to find him new organs?” Wonwoo asked.

“24 hours,” Jisoo replied.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A code came from Son Soojin’s room, you ran as fast as you could.

“I don’t feel so good,” Soojin cried.

“I.C.P is critical, we can’t wait anymore we need to get her down to the OR-”

“NO!”

“We need to get you down to surgery,” You said.

“I’m not scared to die. I just don’t want to do it strapped down to a table like an animal,” Soojin begged, “Please, please, please, Dr. Y/n. Let me go.”

Taeyong and Taeyeon ran into the room.

“Push the paralytics! Start bagging her, intubate and get her into the OR. I need another doctor signature on the form,” Taeyong handed you the papers, “Here sign. Sign the form.”

But you couldn’t, you stood there, frozen.

“Y/n, sign the form.”

You stared at the papers but your hands wouldn’t move.

“Y/N! SIGN THE FUCKING FORM!”

Taeyeon grabbed the pen and signed it for you.

“Don’t scrub in,” Taeyong told you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You two are on Woojin all day today,” Jisoo ordered Wonwoo and Joy, “He has no liver or intestine, that means toxins are building up and his brain is gonna swell. We can’t stop it but we’re gonna try like hell to slow it down.”

Joy’s eyelids were fluttering up and down, she hadn’t had much sleep the past few days.

“Joy I need a nod or a yawn or even a burp, something that lets me know that you’re awake and capable of taking care of this child.”

“Yes, sorry, I’m all yours.”

Xiumin walked up to Jisoo.

“Jisoo, how much time do we have left?”

“16 hours at most.”

Wonwoo spoke up, “There’s a liver dialysis machine downstairs, G.I.’s using it for a clinical trial.”

“That may give Woojin a few more hours...maybe,” Xiumin shook his head and left

“Alright then, Joy, put in the I.C.P. monitor and start tracking his intracranial pressures. Wonwoo, get the machine,” Jisoo ordered.

“What is it’s already hooked up to somebody?”

“If that somebody has more than 16 hours to live then we can unhook them,” Joy said.

“I want off this case,” Jisoo said under her breath.

“Dr. Jisoo?” Wonwoo was concerned.

“I want off this case. I want off of- this little boy is gonna die and I don’t want to be there to see it. I don’t want to- I cannot see this. I want off. I want off.”

“Dr. Jisoo, when was the last time you slept?”

Jisoo took a deep breath and shook her head, “No, no, no. I’m okay, really.”

“I think you need 1 or 2 hours of rest.”

“I’m fine. I’m good. Just go get the machine.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Son Soojin had just gotten out of surgery, Taeyong started doing post-op checkups.

“How are you feeling Ms. Soojin?” Taeyong asked.

“Why didn’t you just let me go?”

“You’re not dying here.”

“What are you so scared of Dr. Taeyong?”

Taeyong ignored her, “I.C.P’s are stable, continue neuro exams-”

“Or maybe you know deep down, you’re no better than I am,” Soojin said, “You decide who lives and who dies all the time. For you they call it medicine, not a capital offense.”

“You know what? I don’t get to choose,” Taeyong snapped, “Not me, not you, and certainly not the 7 people you slaughtered. So if I say you’re not gonna die in this hospital, then there is no way in hell I will let you die in this hospital. I am nothing like you.”

He slammed the door behind him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Xiumin paged Wonwoo, he was waiting for him in the hallway.

“Hey, Dr. Xiumin, you paged me-”

“I need you to talk to the nurses,” Xiumin whispered, “Find out if any of their patients on life support are O-positive or brain dead, then crossmatch those folks against Woojin. The kid’s running out of time.”

“Okay.”

“And Wonwoo, be sensitive to their families. We need organs for this boy, but we can only ask. We do not pressure, we do not coerce. Understand?”

“Yes sir.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“It’s getting a little harder to breathe,” Soojin gasped.

“You can stop doing this Soojin,” You said.

“I know. I know.”

“Would you like me to page Dr. Taeyong?”

“He’s your boyfriend isn’t he?”

You didn’t answer.

“He is,” She answered for you, “I had a feeling.”

You turned your back to her and continued with the check up.

“The man has very good taste.”

You gathered up the charts and started heading towards the door.

“Right now, all I can think about are lemons.”

You stopped and turned around, “Lemons?” You ask.

“When my mother was dying, she said she smelled lemons. All she could talk about for 3 day were lemons. I keep waiting to smell them but I don’t,” Soojin sighed, “Then again, she was a compulsive liar.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to page Dr. Taeyong?”

“I’m sure.”

You left the room and continued working on the charts from outside, Taeyeon came up to you with her own charts.

“How’s our serial killer?” She asked, “Are you monitoring her?”

“Yeah. I’ve got it covered.”

Taeyeon stopped writing. Both of you made eye contact, she dropped her pen and ran to Soojin’s room.

“I said I’ve got it covered!”

She opened the door and ran to Soojin, she checked her pupil responses.

“Tell me you paged Taeyong.”

“She gonna die in a few days anyways. If she dies here we can donate her organs to the 10 year old who’s gonna die down the hall. And I know Taeyong wouldn’t let me do this. So no, I didn’t page Taeyong and I hope you won’t too. Please just...let me do this.”

Soojin gasped, “Please….help...I don’t want to die….I want...to live.”

Taeyeon shook her head, “Page Dr. Taeyong right now! Code Blue 4th floor!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Xiumin got a page from Wonwoo.

“Talk to me Wonwoo.”

Wonwoo handed him charts and papers. Xiumin started reading them.

“Oh my god,” he said.

“The guy’s not a donor and they’re about to unplug him.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Soojin was stabilized by the three of you. Taeyong was looking over her scans.

“Prep her, I want her in the O.R. in 20 minutes,” He ordered Taeyeon, he turned to you, “You should’ve paged me a long time ago.”

“I was following the patient’s wishes-”

“Patient’s wishes? She doesn’t get wishes. She killed 7 people. She’s been manipulating you ever since she’s got here. She preys on young people.”

“I made a decision as her doctor.”

“It was a bad decision. The wrong decision. You’re gonna scrub in, and you’re gonna try like hell to undo what you did.”

“Why are you so adamant on having her executed?”

Taeyong pulled you out of the room, he pulled you into the elevator and pulled the alarm, stopping it.

“You wanna know why I so pro punishment?”

You nodded.

“When I was 5 years old I watched from under the kitchen counter as some man barged into my house and shot my dad for his watch. I couldn’t go and help him, all I could do is watch. Watch as my dad fell to the ground and the man took and his watch and left. They never caught him. I hope that someday they will, and he will receive the punishment he deserves. But Son Soojin is in here right now, and I hope she gets her punishment for killing those 7 innocent people.”

He pressed the alarm again and the doors opened, he walked out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Play Lost Stars)

“I’m sorry, what do you want?”

Xiumin sighed, “I’m know this is excruciating, but what I want...what I need...are your husband’s organs- his livers and his bowels. He’s a match for--”

“Go away,” the woman said.

“I’m sorry?”

“Please go away. I can’t take anymore. He was healthy, two day ago, he was healthy. He’s my love. And he put his head through a windshield and I have to unplug him. He’s the man who’s supposed to hold my hand when things go bad, he is supposed to be there to help. But he gets to go to heaven, and I can’t take anymore. So please...go away. No more people cutting into him.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You, Taeyong, and Taeyeon were in the O.R. trying the repair the damages to Soojin’s brain. The door opened and Jisoo came in with tears.

“Dr. Taeyong,” Jisoo’s voice cracked.

“Dr. Jisoo.”

“I need y-you...t-to...stop,” She stuttered, “I need you to put down your scalpel. This woman is trying to kill herself and god forgive me, I need you to let her.”

“You need to leave my O.R. Dr. Jisoo.”

“1 day. In 1 day, she going to die, and her organs are going to go with her. They’ll be buried with her body and they’ll rot in the ground and that is a crime. A crime against life. It’s only 1 day. That’s all we’re taking from her and she doesn’t want it anyways.”

“We took an oath Jisoo.”

“I know…” Jisoo voice quivered, “I know we took an oath. But right now that oath makes no sense. So just stop. Just stop. Please. Don’t do anything else for this woman.”

“If I stop this surgery, it’s the equivalent of me sticking this scalpel into her brain, is that what you want?”

“Yes.”

*BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP*

Taeyeon looked at the brain, “She’s hemorrhaging through her craniectomy. Should I at least put in a subdural drain?”

“That’s up to Dr. Jisoo,” Taeyong said.

*BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP*

“Dr. Jisoo, should I put in a drain?” Taeyeon asked.

“No.”

*BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP*

Taeyeon shook her head, “There’s too much bleeding we should do something-”

“I am aware of that, Dr. Taeyeon,” Taeyong put down his scalpel, “It’s your call Jisoo. Am I an executioner or am I a surgeon?”

*BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP*

“Pick up the scalpel,” Jisoo left the room.

You, Taeyong, and Taeyeon continued with the surgery.

“Do you see any bleeders?” He asked you.

“The field is clear.”

He looked at you, you did the same.

“Good job, Dr. Y/n,” He said.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Xiumin walked back to the room.

“He can’t take his liver with him to heaven, or his bowels or his kidneys. His brain is gone, but those organs are probably good because he’s a young man,” Xiumin said, “I know this is not what you want to think about, it’s more than anyone should ever have to think about. But he can’t take his organs with him So please. Please. Please let us have his organs, so that he can give someone their life.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m alive,” Soojin whispered.

“Yes, you are,” You said.

“I was playing you, your boyfriend was right,” She admitted, “I wanted to destroy your career. And I wanted to be here to see the fallout.”

“You were scared Soojin. Death is scary.”

“It would be really good to have a friendly face in the crowd, you know...when they kill me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jisoo sat in Woojin’s room, monitoring everything. Joy walked in and crouched down next to her.

“You need to get some sleep Dr. Jisoo, you’re exhausted, you’re worn out. Get some rest, please,” Joy whispered, “I think it’s time Dr. Jisoo.”

Tears started forming in her eyes, “Call her in here.”

Joy left the room and brought back Woojin’s mother.

“It’s time to hold him,” Jisoo sighed, “He’s going, Soojung, and you need to help him go. Peacefully, in his mother’s arms.”

She walked over to the bed where Woojin layed there, she embraced him.

“It’s okay baby. You can go,” She stroked his head, “Mommy will be okay, you can go. It’s okay, I won’t be mad. Woojin, you can go. It’s okay. You can go. It’s okay.”

Xiumin and Wonwoo ran into the room.

“WE HAVE ORGANS!” They both yell.

*BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP*

Everyone’s head turned towards them.

*BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP*

“We have organs! Get him to O.R. 3, NOW!” Xiumin yelled.

*BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP*

Jisoo ran to Woojin, prying his mother off him, “Starting C.P.R now.”

*BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP*

Xiumin grabbed the crash cart, “Push .35 of epi!”

*BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP*

“Get me a bicarb!” Joy yelled.

They all rushed Woojin to the O.R.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s time, Son Soojin’s execution date was today. The sound of chains clanking against ground filled the dark room. The guards guided her to the table, she took a look around the audience until her eyes met yours. She slightly smiled at you before being pushed and strapped down onto the table, chains still wrapped around her limbs.

Needles were stuck into her arms as her head turned to look at the crowd. The buzzers start blaring, Soojin turned her head back to see the ceiling.

“Huh, lemons. My mother wasn’t lying after all,” Soojin whispered to herself.

The drugs were pushed into Soojin’s body, her limbs becoming relaxed, her eyelids fluttering up and down. He soul was slowly leaving her body, leaving her eyes. You’ve seen that look far too many times before. You couldn’t take it anymore.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Woojin had just gotten out of surgery, everyone’s waiting for him to wake up, unsure if they got the organs in time.

Jisoo and Xiumin stood outside, looking at Woojin’s mother alseep next to her son.

“I crossed a line today,” Jisoo said.

“I did too.” Xiumin sighed.

“Woojin?”

Jisoo and Xiumin looked into the room. Woojin’s eyes started slowly opening.

“Can I have some water?” He asked.

His mother smiled at Jisoo and Xiumin and pulled her son into an embrace.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Play I Love You)

The guards opened the gates for you. Across the street, you spot Taeyong next to his car, his arms in his pockets, waiting for you. You walked over to him, puffy eyed, as if you’ve been crying for months. You crossed your arms, he looked at you, and you him.

You sighed, “I know you probably think I’m crazy for doing this. Hell, I think I’m crazy for doing this. But I just wanted to show her compassion, that’s why I went,” Tears fell down your face, “But it was so horrible. It was so fucking horrible!”

Taeyong pulled you into his arms and embraced you, “It’s okay.”

He drove you back to your house, the ride there was mostly silent. You looked at the outside the window, the sky tonight was not beautiful, it was not full of stars, today it was cloudy, as if it were going to rain.

You spoke first, “I can’t…”

“What?”

“I can’t seem to remember our last kiss.”

He didn’t talk to you the rest of the car ride. The two of you reached your house. He opened the door for you and started walking you to the door. You opened your door and walked inside, he started walking back towards his car when he turned around.

He looked at you and smiled, “Last Wednesday, in the elevator.”

“What?”

“You and I both just got out of surgery, it was 4:30 in the morning and we hadn’t been able to see each other for 2 days. We were both exhausted because we had back-to-back surgeries. And I just couldn’t bear another 7 hours without kissing you, so in that moment, I pulled the elevator alarm, and we both had 5 minutes of weakness. That was our last kiss. Last Wednesday, in the elevator.”

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

“The secret to remembering someone, is to care” - Keith Ferrazzi

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maris-solstice · 7 years ago

Text

Due to @odric-master-swagtician doing this, I’ma do one for my boy.

Stuff under the cut bc it is LONG

Character Name: Maris Solstice (Formerly Marius Celestus) Age: 25-26 ish, I always forget and I’m too lazy to double-check Appearance: As of right now this is the only art I have of him with one arm missing. It’s good tho, so here it is:

Armor colorscheme by @sigardaa

1. What do you know about this character now that s/he doesn’t know?

He’s gonna die on Bant a long time from now and have his soul reincarnated into an angel because why do I do this to myself.

2. What is this character’s greatest flaw?

His pride.

3. What do you know about this character that s/he would never admit?

He’s constantly in some form of pain or emotional distress. He’s admitted it to others when it’s gotten unbearable but for the most part he hides it so others don’t worry about him.

4. What is this character’s greatest asset?

His conviction.

5. If this character could choose a different identity, who would s/he be?

He would be a cathar, but events kind of...ruined that.

6. What music does this character sing to when no one else is around?

I like to imagine he absently hums old Ravnican lullabies.

7. In what or whom does this character have the greatest faith?

The course of justice, and the ideals of right makes might, not might makes right.

8. What is this character’s favorite movie?

Mmmkay so if movies existed he would be all in on the Adventures of Tintin. Mystery, intrigue, globehopping, a young red-haired protagonist with a penchant for investigation, bringing criminals to justice. It’s perfect. That or Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.

9. Does this character have a favorite article of clothing? Favorite shoes?

His favorite article of clothing is his belt. He wears it everywhere. His favorite shoes? I don’t think he really has a favorite so much as ‘only one pair of boots’

10. Does this character have a vice? Name it.

Alcohol. Plain and simple. He’s trying to beat it.

11. Name this character’s favorite person (living or dead.)

His wife, Isolde.

12. What is this character’s secret wish?

To one day quit the guild. He views it as a sacred duty, but he longs for the day he can say he’s done his duty to the fullest extent.

13. What is this character’s proudest achievement?

Getting married.

14. Describe this character’s most embarrassing moment.

When he was a child he caused a massive amount of property damage to a Lyev training ground and was kicked out of the Azorius’ recruitment program due to “use of chaotic magics and a willfulness undesirable in Lyev recruits.”

15. What is this character’s deepest regret?

He knows he likely would have died, but he can’t help but think if he’d been a little faster, he could have pulled his parents from the fire.

16. What is this character’s greatest fear?

Losing his wife and the rest of his found family.

17. Describe this character’s most devastating moment.

When his first love, a cathar named Ilsibeth, was cut down by one of the Flight of Nightmares in front of him while he watched. It was the event that prompted him not to leave Ravnica for several months and sent him into a downward spiral of alcoholism and throwing himself into his work.

18. What is this character’s greatest achievement?

Getting married.

19. What is this character’s greatest hope?

That one day his life will calm the fuck down and he can just live with Isolde and be happy.

20. Does this character have an obsession? Name it.

Not really, anymore. He’s recovered well from his depressive period.

21. What is this character’s greatest disappointment?

When he was a kid he thought Agrus Kos was still alive. That was a rough day.

22. What is this character’s worst nightmare?

Losing his found family. He has no family left besides them and he’s lost so much in his life.

23. Whom does this character most wish to please? Why?

His wife. Partly out of a fear of losing her, but mostly because he thinks she deserves to be happy and he loves her.

24. Describe this character’s mother.

Aris Celestus was an Izzet inventor who was a part of the Warmind Initiative. She’s where Maris got his smile and his hair, and his Red. Her attitude toward him was one of vocal support and affection for her son, and she was a bright and happy person, a good influence for him when he was really young.

25. Describe this character’s father.

Martold Celestus was more of a stoic, quiet type, and he gave Maris a strong respect for the law and the process of justice, as well as his White. He was a constant strong presence for Maris, who looked up to him and wanted to be just like him one day, prompting his path to join the Boros.

26. If s/he had to choose, with whom would this character prefer to live?

His mother. It would come down to a simple question of “Who would let me have a little more freedom” because he loved them both very very much.

27. Where does this character fall in birth order? What effect does this have?

He’s an only child. This made him a lot more independent but also gave him a lot of reliance on his friends.

28. Describe this character’s siblings or other close relatives.

He has an aunt who works for the Izzet. He thinks she blames him for the death of her sister, and hasn’t talked to her in years.

29. Describe this character’s bedroom. Include three cherished items.

Well he’s got a pretty big bed, some bedside tables and dressers, probably armor everywhere. A graduation certificate from Horizon, a portrait of his parents, and a portrait of Isolde are the most important things he has in that room.

30. What is this character’s birth date? How does this character manifest traits of his/her astrological sign?

Well uh, hell if I know. I know he was born in the late summer-early fall on Ravnica, but idk how that works

31. If this character had to live in seclusion for six months, what items would s/he bring?

His sword, for defense, a few basic survival supplies like a canteen, a small hatchet, a bedroll. Wouldn’t need a tinderbox or anything because pyromancy.

32. Why is this character angry?

Like, in general, or right now?

33. What calms this character?

A feeling of safety, and knowing his loved ones are safe.

34. Describe a recurring dream or nightmare this character might have.

He’s running, and running, and a building is on fire, but no matter how fast he runs, it’s not getting closer, and now the tears are streaming from his eyes as the smoke gets to him, and he collapses on the ground, choking and crying, and in the windows of the building his parents, Isolde, Ilsibeth, Ivaria, Alek, his mentor Pachymeres, his Wojeks, all stare at him in disappointment as the building collapses in flames.

35. List the choices (not circumstances) that led this character to his/her current predicament.

His choice to fight, his choice to join the Boros, his choice to follow his oath of service, not necessarily in that order.

36. List the circumstances over which this character has no control.

What happens to his family when he’s not around.

37. What wakes this character in the middle of the night?

He’s often woken up in fear, terrified to open his eyes and be alone.

38. How would a stranger describe this character?

He’s a happy man with sad eyes.

39. What does this character resolve to do differently every morning?

Not much, to be honest. He’s a creature of habit.

40. Who depends on this character? Why?

I would imagine Isolde does to an extent, as well as the other Wojeks like Petra, Nora, Zia, Belthor, etc, but I don’t want to speak for other people’s characters.

41. If this character knew s/he had exactly one month to live, what would s/he do?

Take his wife wherever she wanted to go and spend the whole month with her.

42. How would a dear friend or relative describe this character?

He’s a conflicted man with a lot of internal struggles and pain, but he’s a good man and he’d do anything for the people he loves.

43. What is this character’s most noticeable physical attribute?

His sideburns, or his scar, or his auburn hair.

44. What is this character hiding from him/herself?

His own fear.

45. Write one additional thing about your character.

He’s still a werecat. Because I think it’s fucking hilarious.

Gonna tag @foxcoloredcat, @wojekrookie, @pope509 @hazoretspartyfavors and @bobstropajo bc of character mentions.

#fanwalker #Maris

14 notes · View notes

0nho · 7 years ago

Text

onho; omegaverse; “Birthright: Larkspur”

Title: birthright: larkspur (part 1) Pairing: onew/minho, onew/jonghyun/minho (some side jonghyun/taeyeon((!taemin), onew/oc)) Rating: nc-17 Word Count:15k+ Warnings: a/b/o // omegaverse, angst/dark, smut, non-con, mpreg, knotting, mental and physical abuses, underage abuses mentioned Summary: an alpha, beta and omega try to pick up their broken pieces.

| part 1 | part 2??? |

a/n: anyone following this blog or what i’ve said about this story, understand why why this chapter is being posted a year later. final chapter for this ended up over 30k, so i’m cutting it in half so i can focus on one part being finished at a time instead of jumping all over in my writing and edits and then nothing getting actually done. sorry about typos and flow; only a third had beta work.

————

A large winter bird takes crisp flight from a hidden perch among full trees. It caws the gray skies a warning of more snowfall to soon come, blanketing the forest once again in a soft, cold white.

Below, at the forest floor, smoke dances in a swirling rise through the air; heaving gasping. It escapes a small alpha laying face up in the last covering of fresh snow, erasing many messy prints from his presence. Dusted are treetops of the deep forest and all that surrounds, not much wildlife in sight.

A cloak and furs to keep from the chilling cold lay scattered across the ground, discarded, leaving the alpha in a thin damp layer and cold skin. Eyes have softened from seeded feral nature; now glazed over. But the cold doesn't truly penetrate his being.

Not a fire is built at the small hideaway the small alpha Jinki has visited many times over. But unusual is all the bark among surrounding trees freshly skinned; cut and torn away by bare nail scratches. Across hands, fingertips are marked crimson, after the alpha attacked anything within sight, uncontrollably feral. Thick, black rage burned inside. Unlike anything before it.

A blade lays somewhere among the snow, but it's lost to Jinki's mind right now. He is aware it's grown dark and light again, but how many times; how many days is unknown. Sleep is unachievable; eyes are painfully bloodshot. He could have been circling the forest for hours without control.

Jinki is out of blasphemous curses to shout at the skies towards the gods. He's used everything up; he's been left hollow.

Has he not tried hard, has he not pleased the gods enough. Why are the odds so against Jinki.

His birthright is a tale to laugh and snare at.

Jinki's senses are so dulled, that the sound of crunching snow means nothing to him. If it's death approaching, it can have him.

“Jinki..”

Then an admired face by many hovers over Jinki's vision. It's of the elite alpha Kyuchul Jinki can see through strands of black hair grown below the tips of his ears again. Maybe for the first time ever, Jinki feels absolutely nothing being in the fellow alpha’s company. No humbling excitement or angering fear.

Jinki is circled by softly crunching steps; a large mountain wolf on patrol with Kyuchul. It growls, breath hot, big snout nearly touching Jinki's face. It could make a meal of Jinki right now and he would have nothing to say of it.

“Stand down,” the elite alpha commands of the mountain wolf. It obeys, stepping back and sitting in the snow, it's ashy, thick fur a contrast to the pale sensory.

“If this is not a pitiful sight.”

Jinki has nothing to offer. The tone of mocking has no effect.

Kyuchul taps his boot to Jinki's shoulder. “Will you not get angry I am here? I've known about this little place for years.”

Jinki isn’t surprised, he would usually lash out, acknowledge it as a threat to his livelihood, but he feels nothing. Simply nothing.

The long pause has Kyuchul disappear from Jinki's hovering sight. Jinki blinks… twice. He closes his eyes and now the fresh fall of cold snow can settle on his face once more.

Jinki has no reaction to Kyuchul suddenly on top of him, large and broad, and the blade Jinki lost in the snow now pressed to his neck. There is no impulse to fight back, to save his own life.

Jinki slowly blinks, his nose twitching and dirty face behind wiry stubble feeling ticklish more than anything. A gulp drags the bob of his adam’s apple near the blade, but his heart rate doesn't rise.

“Why do you not fight back?”

Jinki's voice croaks now, raspy from his feral yowling of before. “If my death satisfies you, you may have it.”

There is a silence, it lingers baited only with the laboured breath of the better alpha.

Kyuchul relents, but his stony expression giving nothing of his true thoughts away. A challenge has been presented, and the elite don't run away from a challenge. Jinki isn't an elite for a reason.

The smaller alpha is forward. “Strike me down or leave me be.”

With a cry, the blade is suddenly thrust into the ground beside them, and most unexpectedly is the elite alpha pressing his mouth to Jinki's icy lips.

It's then Jinki feels something again. His frozen body heats, eyes wide and dilated in a bolt of confusion.

Of all the history between the two, from Jinki's admiration for the elite, to the brutal humiliations to come later, nothing like this had ever passed between the two, Jinki's mouth touched.

New life feels breathed into Jinki, a heat rising inside out, seemingly inhaling a part of the other’s fiery spirit.

Kyuchul finally leans back, hovering above Jinki's shocked face. “You fool. Every day… you waste your potential...”

Jinki wonders what potential that is.

That ping of life, it already starts death flickering, and unsure how to capture it back, Jinki lifts his head; he’s compelled to seek out another breath from the alpha once his mentor, to find that his twenty-two years haven't been for nothing.

Kyuchul leans away, lips not touching for a second time. “If you truly wish to die here, it will not be by my hand.”

Has Kyuchul not wanted Jinki's utter misery and death for years? Jinki finally wants an end to this process, he wants the elite alpha to cut him down.

Kyuchul stands, staring down at Jinki with a look in his dark eyes. Jinki suddenly recalls the day he was shown the sea and how Kyuchul gazed upon it, as if a longing for something beyond anything Jinki could ever comprehend.

Kyuchul walks away, the large wolf obediently in toe. “If you are that weak, then perish on your own.”

Jinki heart beats loudly-- thump.. thump.. coughing lungs still suck in the thick air of new life.

Jinki can't remain here. Jinki must go home. Jinki has a home. Jinki has those who rely on him.

Fluttering snow falls across Jinki's face as he softly murmurs, “Minho…”

Inside a cabin warmed by the roaring fire from the outside snowfall is the beta Jonghyun sitting on the edge of a bed sick with worry.

Gently, the beta washing the skin of the omega still bedridden after a difficult delivery. It still a lot to process, that the omega delivered two offsprings, and only one is of his mates. At least, that's what Jinki said. Jonghyun hasn't seen much of Jinki since though.

The rag is dipped again in the hot water boiled at the fire, cleaning Minho’s still pale body with care. The omega holds one child in his arm at all times, but it is not the offspring of Jinki. Jonghyun sweeps the slight curls of Minho’s long black hair off the back of his neck, washing him, but noticing that abnormal mating mark. It makes the beta uneasy at the sight of it.

“Ming, you must eat something today. I will bring you warm stew.”

Minho doesn't look to the beta. He's been like this, barely communicating, since Jinki returned to the cabin frightening them both with his appearance and questions.

‘tell me what to do..’

‘tell me…’

Jonghyun shudders at the memory. The beta thinks himself to understand Jinki in ways maybe the omega doesn't. The alpha isn't so strong, so wise--but weak is an image Jonghyun didn't pay much mind to.

Since then, a couple nights ago, Jinki has been away and Minho has barely spoken. He doesn't smile anymore, eyes sag emptily. Not one tear is shed.

Jonghyun barely sleeps with all his worries. Yoojin cuddles warmly into his arms in the night, and that's the only way he finds rest. She grows so fast it seems. Though she speaks little, those eyes big like the omega’s have an awareness beyond her age.

“Ming…”

“Jin.. ki..”

Jonghyun’s tired gaze widens. He looks around but there is no sign of the alpha.

“He'll be back.. I'm sure he will be back..” the beta tries to convince himself as much as the omega.

Jonghyun liked it better when Minho carried enough hope for the both of them. It's all so exhausting.

The gush of freezing air through the cabin is a shock to those inside, but more alarming is the sudden appearance of alphas, those with a colored tie around an arm signifying their title as working closely for the elders.

Jonghyun is shoved aside, as they reach the back room. Newborn seed wail and Yoojin cowers in a corner, crying. Minho is yanked from the bed he still lay recovering in after birth by order of the medics. He is easily thrown over an alpha’s broad shoulders to be taken away.

“Let him go!” Jonghyun’s shrill voice demands, bravely--or foolishly--rushing an alpha blocking his way to Minho.

“Jonghyun!” Minho reaches out for the beta, large eyes afraid. In his youth, he was taken before by an alpha from the warm protection of Jonghyun. The suddenly re-lived flashback to that time riddles the omega with shivers not only from the cold.

Jonghyun sinks teeth into the alpha’s hand, fighting back, but he is quickly backhanded to the floor with a yelp, lip bleeding. Yoojin hides in a corner from the violence.

Minho is taken out of the cabin, body still too weak in recovery to be any good fighting off the alphas. The cold from the dead of winter clings to the omega in only thin clothing. He calls for the harmed beta once more, and his heart tears at the cries of the little ones he cannot comfort.

Minho is tossed into the back of a cart, left to roll disoriented in hay. The noise of a horse being ushered forward and wagon moving come quickly. Minho sits up, finding Jonghyun still struggling with an alpha restraining his small size and their home becoming further away.

Why is he being taken?

When the ride halts, it's outside the elders large building at the village square. Minho is again over an alpha’s shoulders and taken up the wide steps, then inside. Down the hallways he's dragged, then into a large room. Atop a platform a short staircase leads to a row of thick, finely crafted chairs. Each chair with its tall back and wide arms depict a different scene by carving, but all of them seem to be of wolves just the same as Minho's village.

In those chairs currently sits elders.

Minho is dropped at the foot of the wooden stairs. He falls to his knees, unable to yet support himself. Looking up, several exquisite seats are empty, but enough are filled to be concerned.

It has been many years since Minho was taken before a village’s elders. The fearful memories resurface, taking his breath away, even in his twenty years. They truly do frighten the omega. But he tries to appear a stone, pushing himself on bare feet to stand upright to the tall height that could mistake him for a young alpha. Thin legs wobble and large eyes dart around, doing a pitiful job of looking intimidating to anyone.

“This is the one who just bore two?” one elder says. Minho feels a jab to his back as the alpha answers.

“It is the one. Two fresh seedlings sit in his cabin.”

“Remove his coverings,” one elder commands.

Minho instinctively struggles as the top and wrap around his waist are taken from him, leaving him completely bare before the judging eyes of the elders. Feelings of humiliation come over him as he clutches the small lumps of a swollen chest that leaks dribbles of feed he's supposed to be offering the new little ones right now.

“Bring him,” the same elder says with a flick of his wrist, inked markings around its skin unique to himself as his standing near the gods, much like Minho remembers of his own elders.

Minho is lifted to his feet and shoved forward, his hands still covering his chest as bare feet ascend the steps, alpha close behind.

“Do you see it?”

Lengthy hair is pulled back, hard enough Minho cries out. It's scooped away from his neck with a fist.

“It is here,” the alpha answers.

Minho is pushed to his knees at the elder’s feet, and stitching between thighs stings as it nearly tears open,again. A small head is shoved around, until it's bent and twisted, long neck angled for the elder to find the omega’s mating claim.

Self preservation kicks in, Minho crying out. “Don't look at me!”

“A beautifully youthful face, this one.”

Face shoved into the elder’s robed lap, Minho is held in place, no way to flee; their trapped animal. Fingers are cold as they rub and press his marking, where skin is textured and colors twisted.

“Is it true?” an elder sitting a few seats down asks.

“This is no usual marking.”

Minho whimpers as fingers keep rubbing, worsening the overwhelming stir inside him. His mind blanks, eyes rolling closed.

“This omega truly does belongs to more than one..”

It's not true, Minho wants to say, but functioning properly is not about him.

The elder yanks Minho's head up, eyes meeting, and Minho nearly pisses himself staring into such a gaze. So much youthful strength and weight behind it, despite the wrinkled skin and white beared, Minho could be crushed beneath it.

“You laid with another alpha.”

“I..”

“Did your loose hole enjoy it?”

Minho blinks, swallowing thick. He did not enjoy it. He didn't, he swears. But the sensation down his spine remembers otherwise. Only a groan slips through bitten lips.

The elder leans in close, rasp of an aged voice smoothing out, suddenly young and deep beside Minho's ear.

“How was it?”

Breath is hot across skin, and fingers keep running and digging at the twisted claim, pulsating nerves rushing to his head.

“Tell me how you begged for him, go on.. tell me..”

Minho heats, long lashes fluttering. The elder is right, he begged, didn't he. He begged for it to happen.

“I.. --so bad..” Minho's speech slurs.

“How much pride do you hold bearing his seed?”

fingers presses, Minho whimpers, jolt of boastful pride brightening him into a smile. He's so happy suddenly, so happy to have carried seed surely to grow into a strong alpha. He's so happy. He could shout to the skies. Fluttering eyelids try to open, but eyes roll back to white.

“.. I.. --happy..”

Minho licks dry lips, breathing heavier. The fingers pressing hurt, yet he heats warmer, beginnings of growing moist between legs occurring. His head isn't right.

“Tell me, who is this alpha?”

Minho jerks and twitches, not in full control of himself. Brows furrow, question confusing him. The alpha? Minho does not know. But a scarred face becomes vivid in his mind.

Who is he? Minho doesn't know.

“..no..”

Minho remembers traveling together, nights in the woods, a glove offered to him once dropped in the snow, angry eyes and a red gash across once clear features.

“.. no..”

But Minho does not know that alpha.

Narrows slit eyes find Minho's wide gaze, burrowing right into his mind, seeing through him. It's so strong, those eyes, surely hiding something powerful behind a frail looking, old body. Minho shakes with fright.

“No?”

Finally Minho is released, allowing him to fall back and roll limp down the short flight of stairs. He clutches his head, more terrified of his own thoughts than anything, as if he's not alone in his own body; he can't control it. Before the omega can try to explain himself, the creak of a door opening draws attention.

Jinki enters the room along with another elder. The young alpha is brought forward, while the elder with him takes a seat at his personal throne. Something about their manner rings similar, but the omega does not recall meeting the elder. Could it be Jinki's parent, the one spoken of before?

“Did you know of this?” the elder just speaking to Minho calls upon Jinki now.

Minho sits up, heart racing finding the alpha near him. The small alpha holds his chin high, eyes like stones, but Minho knows. A heavy weight rests on Jinki.

“I--”

“He didn't know!” Minho hurries to say, crawling forward to plead. “I did not tell anyone! It was a secret we mated!”

Jinki glances at Minho, brows arched. Minho offers half a smile, but it quickly wavers.

“I knew,” Jinki tells, “I knew about the other claim.”

Minho's head falls.

“And you let the alpha go unchallenged?”

Jinki nods.

Elders chuckle.

“Are you that weak?”

Jinki has nothing to offer the amused question.

“Jinki, did you think you could stand above written laws and punishments because of your ties as an elder’s offspring?”

Jinki does not answer, but he does glance to an elder, one silent in watching the others among him.

Heads are shaken.

“This practice is outlawed.”

“With good reason,” another adds, glancing at Minho's bare, pathetic state.

“I have given you the truth. My only request is that my mate be spared.”

Minho tries to stand, muttering “Jinki…” wobbly knees give out before long.

Jinki keeps his gaze on the elders before him.

“This cannot go unpunished. A mated omega offering his body to another, it is forbidden. You are aware.”

It didn't happen like that, Minho's mind races, why must they say it so shamefully.

“I understand.” Jinki bows respectfully.

“Take him away until we have made our decision.”

Minho is pulled to his feet, dragged off in a forceful grip. He calls for Jinki, afraid to be separated, and maybe more than that, worried for Jinki because he hasn't been the same since his new seed was born. His struggle against strong arms is useless, and his voice rises each call for the alpha.

Jinki tilts his head finally towards Minho, sharp eyes glistening with cracks of emotion now. He's hurting so much, and Minho can do nothing to ease it.

Through another door Minho is taken, bare skinned with a shiver from the cold and fear through his veins. Will he die for his crimes?

Along with his clothing, Minho is dumped into a room and shut inside, still somewhere in the same building. He quickly dresses, and he wishes for his boots as he steps around the cold floors.

The room is larger than his cabin, built without windows, and the candle lit before the door was closed with a latching lock behind the burly alpha gives off a very dim light.

The room is dusty, Minho finds, hand touching the table and chairs. A quilt lines one wall, hung from the ceiling beams.

Minho sits on a chair, rubbing his tender neck, mind wandering back to what that elder did, or rather how he involuntarily reacted to it, saying things of such nonsense, but spoken with such a sincerity in the moment.

It was truly as if the omega were possessed. Minho recalls the old writings he found in the library, what they said does and could happen to his kind by way of a mating claim, and those with multiple claims. His body was never fully his own, but neither is his mind anymore. He doesn't know what to do with that knowledge.

What he does know is, he doesn't like what he's become, nor does he know how to accept it or change it. He feels confined.

Looking to the door, Minho wishes to leave, to go back to the little ones. They need caring for only he can provide; at least convinced of it that way. They are hungry and frightened, surely, they need him there. Minjae, what if he's hurt, taken.. his own mate already tried.

Jinki. Today wasn't the same alpha who staggered into the cabin, pleading for direction. What he had done in front of the elders was something brave, in the omega’s way of thinking. But why has he been away from home for so long? He had said such alarming things before disappearing. Minho couldn't answer the questions, even now he can't.

The small alpha stood tall, but those eyes were so… empty.

Minho lays his head back, waiting. Maybe these are his last moments before being strung up as an example. Minho coughs, choking on a breath, suppressed fears bubbling up overwhelmingly.

Minho watches the door, hoping the next person through the it is Jinki coming to take him home.

“So this is the true reason you fled that village.”

A fireplace crackles inside the small private chambers of an elder. Jinki's posture is stiff standing at attention. Dark circles hang below averted eyes and his proper bare face is absent due to scratchy stubble from lack of care.

Jinki stands before his parent as if an alpha lost in the wild of days, though maybe it is true; time has left him. Jinki needs a wash, and a hearty meal to bring back the glow to his complexion. But how can he find an appetite when his world is upside down.

“It is..” Jinki answers.

“How long had you known?”

“The whole time..” Jinki doesn't see what good would come off explaining he didn't know about the mating claim until after they fled the village. It would put Minho in a worse place.

Jinki blinds, hazy thoughts pierced by sudden laughter. The elder wears an amused expression. For Jinki's confessions, his parent does not seem surprised. When Jinki was found while trying to fetch water before going to the cabin, taken to speak with the elders about the gossip of new births, his parent didn't seem much moved by the news. Jinki wonders why.

“My little offspring, so foolish.”

“I'm telling you this now, so please,” Jinki steps closer to where the elder slowly paces. “Please don't punish my mate.”

“A wandering mate is a heavy burden, is it not?”

“What you said, about a mate being chosen not by me but them,” Jinki nods his head towards the skies, “There must be truth in it.”

The elder pauses, turning towards Jinki. “You know I don't have the power to decide his fate.”

“You can persuade them into mercy,” Jinki says, a little too much hope lacing his voice.

The elder laughs again, eyes crinkling with a smile.

“This sort of crime, it is a sentence of death, you know this.”

Jinki does, and that's why he's here, trying to find some leniency for his mate. He can't lose Minho now. He won't.

“I'll do anything you ask of me.” Jinki steps closer, arm raised to grasp his parent like he often wished to as a youth, but catching himself midway. “Don't take his life for this. It wasn't his fault. I am to blame.”

The elder strokes his long, white beard, looking thoughtful. “I will mention this to the elders during our council.”

Jinki's stiff muscles finally slack a bit. It is no guarantee but there is some hope to hang to now.

“You,” the sudden cold stare pierces through Jinki, “Do wash up and come back to your senses. You are mine, your shame does not end with you.”

Jinki steps back, eyes wide. That is right; Jinki is the offspring of an elder, his doings reflect on a parent, as much as any other offspring. Jinki finds his head heavy to hold up. “Yes sir.”

“Good, child.” Jinki's dirty cheek is gently pat.

Clear skies, stars twinkling amongst the fallen night, brings a half moon lighting a corner of the village square. There is a crunch of boots beneath the snow still thick across the entire village.

It's difficult to breathe, let alone say a word; the omega's whole face swallowed up by the stench of a severed and hollowed out head of a slain swine. It's filthy, and the rotting fumes of death unbearable. A knotted rope around his mouth purposefully removes his voice; not allowed to protest or beg mercy. Vision is compromised, left disorientated.

The drifting omega is drawn back to a vague level of awareness, limbs thrashing, but still finding his bare body on bent knees along uneven stone and muddy ground. He's pressed over in half; his wrists and ankles are locked behind him through the small holes of the wood pillory. A larger hole fits just enough access to the omega’s bare backside the opposite side of the pillory, out and presented. The compressed position is suffocating, secured in place for hours now, maybe days; time is lost here.

By now, with dusk few care to see the display. It's scribbled in a sign above him under a blazing torch, his punishment for laying with another alpha.

‘here be village livestock, weak in heart and mind sniffing out alpha for satisfaction of the flesh, yet with the mark of a mate.

Purge the evil spirits of this wayward swine.’

No mention of the the double mating is written. But it's still enough to shame the omega.

An alpha, his shuffling steps drawing closer through the white snow, now crouches in front of the omega where he's trapped so near the freezing ground, and the alpha squeals like a pig in mocking as he lifts and drops the omega's heavy head. The weight of it jolts the shivering omega forward, wrists and ankles scraping wood on the opposite side of the thick board latched to the ground.

This is the chosen punishment by the elders towards Minho and his misdoings in breaking laws, as one born to the birthright of a lowly omega. He barely feels the prickly chill to his naked body anymore despite the shivers and speckles of fresh snow upon him.

The alpha circles around the pillory, hands on the omega’s body, squeezing at an engorged chest, poking at the side of a belly still settling from afterbirth and an abdomen swollen by fresh seed left by multiple mountings. Minho's thighs and knees press against his upper body in bruises.

It's another young alpha, one curious and using Minho as easy prey. Most have been youths, because they will mount anything with a pulse if they can.

A palm runs along Minho's stiff back, over a boney spine, across bruises left by rotten foods thrown at him. It doesn't pain him as much as the anticipation of what is to come. The mountings hurt, especially loosening the fresh stitching from after birth. If the sown slit opens, maybe his insides would just fall out and he would be no more.

On the other side of the pillory, where bound hands and feet are soiled, there is a sticky, bloody mess of Minho's raw backside; stitches ripped, prolonging healing, but the ghastly sight doesn't turn any away. The pillory displays that side the omega’s ass out and spread; the loosened hole a tempting offer.

A post near the pillory hangs a tail whip, left for use.Minho thought himself numb to the punishment by this point, but his body still reacts with a cry at the swing of the tail whip meets his backside, causing new red lines to brighten boldly under the light of a flickering torch. The bottoms of his feet are swung at, and his fisted hands, repeatedly being struck by the whip. Teeth dig into the knotted gag, hidden face scrunched behind the animal's.

The light flurries of fallen snow atop Minho's backside soothes the sting as the whip is tossed away, alpha falling to his knees with his hands open. The youth’s penetration is careless; pushing in deeply with no time to adjust. On knees, the alpha grips the thick wood of the pillory, thrusting forward madly.

Minho's head twists, fingers clenching, because his spine sets off a blissful tingling sensation from his neck downward, reaching every point of his body like a blaze, having the opposite effect of pain. In this it's actually welcome, more welcome than anything ever before; fear, hurt, it's all nonexistent when like this. A moan slips out, knocked out of him in rising, broken breaths as his backside is hammered. The omega slips away, body and mind detaching.

“Ya filthy pig,” the panting alpha mocks Minho's moans.

boards creak, body shoved forward and back, wet skin slapping loudly. The youth is noisy, panting and grunting. The sensation of pleasures spin him around, head almost nodding in agreement, if he has the energy; he is a filthy pig, he can embrace it, gladly serve, as his wailings muffle on a gag through the head of a swine, sounding like a squealing pig.

A wet warmth traces the long fingers of Minho's hand, then teeth bite down, sharp across stiff knuckles. Minho screams, the skin broken but his hand unable to be pulled away or cradled. His hand smashes against the wood, not clearing the hole it's locked in. Minho falls, crashing through layer after layer, until he meets the ground; the place where pleasures and glee fade again, leaving searing pain. He's exhausted.

Warm gushing of the alpha spilling seed heats Minho's freezing body from the inside out, as it pools with the seed of those previous in using his offered up hole. He shakes, numb toes curled in the sharp cold, trying to gasp in air through the mouth of an animal.

The alpha pulls out, rubbing strings of seed between bruised cheeks. Narrow shoulders throbbing from all the motion, a weak body still manages to tense, bracing for reentry. The hot tip presses at Minho's torn hole another time, a palm repeatedly slapping a cheek redder.

The young alpha doesn't get far; half his leaking tip inside the omega, when he's pulled away and the noise of a scuffle is just beyond the punished, the snap of that whip used on someone finally not him.

Minho's mind drifts again, head hung and shoulders strained. The cold settles his heated body back into the numbing breeze. He fades.

Soon, Minho is alerted once more, this time to the light taps of his cheeks and a voice so familiar his chest aches more than anything else.

“Ming?” the soothing voice calls, “Minho?”

Minho tries to open his eyes fully, finding he can see, but for little, weight of the swine head having been removed. Left behind is blood and sweat coating Minho's head, hair that was brutally chopped from his head to shame him now tangled in fluids. Swollen eyes blink and a voice rasps between the gag, “Jii-ki…” he's finally in front him.

All Minho here's is his name repeated, as Jinki cuts the gag away with his blade and hands gently rub his face, fingers scooping through the shorter length of his hair. The view Minho can see is the alpha crouched to find him at eye level, expression a twitching smile and small eyes red. He seems upset; no, feels upset, informs their mated bond.

“.. is.. they..?” Minho has to know. It's been consuming him. Are the offsprings safe? He doesn't know what he will do if he's caused them harm.

“They are safe,” Jinki answers, doing that peculiar thing where he just knows what the omega means to express. “They are in Jonghyun's care,” he adds, speaking so assuredly of the beta.

Minho feels such relief then. His head drops, stiff body sagging, muscle giving out, and the weight tugging on his arms trapped at an upper angle behind him leaves shoulders on the verge of dislocating. A choked shout escapes him.

“Minho!”

Small, warm hands caress Minho's dirty face, holding his head up for him, reducing pressure on his arms. Swollen eyes flutter.

Gently, a ladle is touched to Minho's cracked lips, offering a sip of water to his dry throat. Minho gulps in too much, so parched, coughing up a stinging mess. A second attempt is more successful.

The longer Jinki’s warmth brings Minho around, he begins to wonder. His speech slurs heavily, tongue feeling thick and small teeth chattering in the cold. “Imma goin die?”

He doesn't want to die, not like this. Minho doesn't want to die.

“No, no.. Minho, you will not.” Jinki says, “I would never allow it.”

Minho sniffles, nose cleared from clean swipes by the alpha. Tears leak from his eyes. He believes Jinki, even if tradition states otherwise. Jinki's sincerity radiates hope to Minho's broken mind; hope that seems too good to be true.

“It.. it hurts...” Minho cries, hands and feet flexing in the freezing air behind him, legs digging into his chest. Seed leaks from his puckered hole, dripping off the curve of his ass and torn stitches to the ground.

Jinki stands then, kicking at the locks attached to the pillory, attempting to dislodge them. Neither gives, and Minho is only jerked around by the force.

Minho can't even scream for Jinki not to leave him alone when the alpha insists he will return. Head hung, tired eyes fall on the head of a pig he had been wearing, and whimpering escapes, so humiliated.

The punishment is to tame, to drive out such pride in an omega to act against laws, and shame anyone who might try to follow those footsteps. But Minho never was boastful of what happened; it was never his choice.

A whole village, how do they treat each other all in such ways? None of them deserve a heart. Why did the gods give them.

As promised, Jinki does come back, and it's with draping a warm wool blanket over his bare body, covering him from the cold and from anymore harm. Jinki crawls on the wet ground to sit in front of Minho allowing the omega’s small head to rest on his knees, curling his warmth atop the other.

The night sky brings new, soft flakes of snow.

It's spoken quietly, “I won't let you go.. Minho...”

The omega shakes in gutted sobs. With death such a close reality. He's much too afraid of death. He's afraid of a lot of things, and he doesn't truly understand why anyone would love someone like him, why anyone would want him. He did a bad thing. He's done many bad things.

Jinki leans against the omega, head resting atop Minho's. He stays with Minho through the rest of the punishment, loyally protecting the fearful omega.

Jinki pulls Minho's limp body up and outward, as an elder, his own parent no less, unlocks and frees Minho from the tight pillory. Dawn has come, with Minho having drifted into sleep without Jinki following.

“He is free to go,” the elder says, returning a key to his robe’s pocket. “It has gone on enough.”

Jinki doesn't care to find the look across his parent's face, for his eyes are unable to part from Minho. He wraps Minho into the blanket completely, a thumb trying to clean his filthy cheek. Minho's eyes don't open, long lashes stained.

“Do you still believe your meeting of this omega was fated by the gods?”

“He's stronger than he looks…” Jinki offers instead, sincere. He's still unable to pull his gaze away from Minho. He clings to the omega, cradling him closer.

Minho's immersing scent is difficult to easily distinguish among all the filth he's been covered in by seed, it continuing to leak and pool a stain through the blanket. It's frightful, like a beautiful memory unrecognizable.

“You are still lacking so much, child..” the elder pulls up the warm hood of his cloak and turns to leave Jinki and the unconscious omega alone.

Jinki lifts one of Minho's hands, finding broken skin along fingers. Eyes narrow.

“Take him to the medics.”

“Thank you..” Jinki whispers, humble yet too ashamed to face his parent with a strong, confident voice.

“This is Jinsun,” Minho smiles, handing the swaddled seed into Jinki's arms.

The omega’s wrists and ankles, wrapped carefully, still show sign of bruises, and a clothed backside is slow to heal with fresh stitches, leaving a limp in Minho's steps, but to be home the last several days to recover has been more than he could ask for. He still can't stand the smell of himself. He will wash again soon.

But somehow Minho is still alive. Minho's fairly sure he has Jinki to thank for that. His memory of the events are hazy, possibly due to sleep deprivation, or maybe simply because Minho can't bear to remember all of what he endured. Fingers with darkened scabs brush back short strands of hair now above Minho's ears and brow, that memory still vivid in its cruelness compared to when Jinki has gently cut it.

“Unless you object to the name..” Minho says. He steps back, allowing Jinki to gaze on his own offspring. Jinki is stiff, but there is something different about his eyes; a beautiful gentleness. The likeness, it can already be seen in the male newborn Jinki holds.

“Object?” Jinki looks up, face still dirty and lined with stubble; he looks like he hasn't slept in days, to and out from the cabin non stop. While it's Minho who stands before the weathered alpha now, washed and rested.

“Jinsun..” Jinki tries the name out, “It sounds like a fine name.”

Jinki smiles, wide and reaching his slit eyes; the first genuine one Minho remembers seeing since before the day of birth.

Minho's eyes widen when Jinki reaches a hand for him, catching the omega’s palm. Gently, Jinki's thick but shorter fingers find Minho's, where the omega had been bitten. It's been healing well, but Jinki's concern is felt.

The sudden cries from the other room has their attention. Jonghyun opens the door, entering the back room where the mated are, Yoojin at his heel.

“He's hungry…” Jonghyun announces.

It's overwhelming having not just one, but two now to feed constantly. Minho absently rubs his swollen chest, full of uncomfortable pressure, not realizing he leaks through his clothing.

“And him,” Jinki's tone lowers, brows furrowed as he drops Minho's hand, “What is his given name?”

“I have not decided yet,” Minho side glances at Jonghyun, noticing the beta’s wider stare. It isn't true and the beta knows; he has decided, and it was that child he gave name to first. But telling Jinki that, Minho can't see anything good coming of it.

An alpha killing the offspring not his own is known to happen, even if it's outlawed by the elders. Minho's trust in Jinki is so very strong, but instinct to protect what he carried all those months is also a driving force. The child has no one but Minho.

The alpha’s territorial despise of the child seeps into Minho's body every day, making each step a new weight over him. Even now, the jolt of the alpha’s strong emotion startles Minho into fright. He knows that isn't his own state of being and that not everything he feels deeply is of his own true self.

The mating claim, it did something to Minho, it changed--corrupted a part of his inner most being. Not just him, but all omega under an alpha claim. How many know? How many would even care?

As Jinsun fusses, Jinki settles into bewilderment.

“I'll take him,” Jonghyun suggests.

Minho nods and leaves for the other child, but not before looking back to find Jinki's heavy gaze on him. Has Jinki caught his untruth about the other child? Minho turns away first, closing the door slowly behind him.

Head curled into the bedding, Minho bites a blanket, half from the the sting of ointments applied to his bare backside and and the other half memories of how the healing welts got there flashing like a jolt through his mind. Jinki's hands are gentle, even as Minho stiffens.

“Don't stop breathing,” Jinki instructs, dabbing each reddened cheek still recovering from the whippings.

Minho hadn't noticed he was holding his breath. He exhales, lifting his head to look for Jinki over his shoulder, still not fully used to the lighter weight of his head due to the butchering of his hair. He finds the alpha under the shadows of candlelight, small eyes blinking, expression concentrated.

Jinki looks up, noticed, the slight prickling of hair grown across his face, and in dim light, looking more like a stranger than ever. But his touch, the gentle but firm motions, that is most familiar of all.

This appearance, this side of Jinki, it is most similar to the night they were attacked by a nightwalker, when Jinki wept in front of Minho. It brings Minho back to realizing there is so much he doesn't know about the alpha still. What makes him stand separate from the other alpha in Minho's eyes is also what is little understood. He tells himself it's the mating claim, like those old writings say, but how could that really explain it all?

Minho hides his face again.

“Will you be sleeping here tonight?” Minho asks.

Jinki hasn't spent many nights in the cabin lately, and he still looks unruly, even thinner than he ever remembers seeing the already small alpha.

“I would..” Minho pauses, fists in the blanket, memories uncovering. “..really like for you to stay..”

The ointment is returned to a shelf, and the soft noise of rustling around the baskets carrying sleeping children. Then Jinki is crawling onto the bed, laying across his back beside the omega.

Minho comes out from his hiding, rolling to his side to let up pressure on his stomach still shrinking in afterbirth. He leans in close, his lips brush Jinki's shoulder, an exposed forehead and prickly short hair rubbing the alpha’s skin up and down. As his hand reaches for Jinki's head, his wrist is snatched, surprising the omega.

“What are you doing?” Jinki asks.

“I only wanted to touch you..” to run his fingers through Jinki's hair and soothe him, compelled to, even though he's the one still in recovery and in need of rest. Minho doesn't just feel driven to, as if an unspoken obligation, he wants to. He wants to see Jinki smiling at him, that crisp laughter mesmerizing once again. This appearance, the look of brokenness, it only makes the omega want to become stronger, to protect the alpha.

Jinki hesitates a moment, then releases Minho, allowing the omega to brush fingers through his hair, and Minho can sense it, a slight shift, Jinki laxing beneath his touch. It's powerful, in a way, finding again that his touch alone almost tames an alpha. So Minho continues, curled up close to Jinki.

A soothing warmth overcomes Minho, a familiar but vague sensation, but it grows closer every time to something such as courage, being beside this person.

It's different from strength, or what the omega has known as strength. What he has thought of in himself. It's something different.

Courage.

Minho knows that when he later wakes to the cries of the hungry, Jinki won't be beside him, but for now, it is a comfort to him.

With Jinki beside him, Minho drifts into peaceful sleep.

“The omega’s life is back in your hands, but..”

There is something self serving in the elder’s tone, something enough that it gives pause to Jinki display of gratitude. Knees haven't even hit the floor yet to meekly grovel on his return to his parent’s private chambers, still the shameful appearance of a scruffy mutt.

“In return, it has been decided that you and the omega will keep both born in your care, until we see otherwise.”

Jinki blinks, lips parted, rendered speechless. Surely, as one seed is not his own it would be quickly taken to be raised by betas in the child dormitories. Jinki doesn't want the child around, to see it every day, to hear its cries--to witness Minho care so tenderly for something that is not Jinki's own.

Already he's seen it carried out by the omega, the affection for the other more than Jinki's own seed; no different than the parent he stands before now never accepting what he is. Jinki can't stand it.

“But..”

“You now object? After all you said to protect that omega?” the elder laughs, head tossed back, the table of his chambers slapped. It's an oddly young display for a white bearded male.

The offspring is being mocked. He'd nothing but a toy to be played with, is he not?

Jinki's brows furrow in a heavy frown.

“Tell me, do you want to carry out the tradition? Say it and he will be strung up.”

Jinki's fists tighten, a sweat coming over him. Why must someone Jinki has only wanted approval from lower him to such humiliations? All he's ever done is tried.

“Or..” the elder glances at the roaring fire keeping his room comfortably warm from the white cold outside. “Would burning alive be more fitting his disgraceful acts?”

“Enough!” Jinki shouts, loud voice surprised; his parent looks taken aback. “No more. I will do as the elders order.”

The elder rises, approaching Jinki with a softer tone. “I understand your frustration. You wish to kill it, don't you?” He crouches, looking Jinki in the eye, finding the dark corners of his own offspring’s mind, feeding it with delight. “Tear it apart, destroy any reminder of another inside your mate..”

Jinki's nose crinkles, but he can't deny the thoughts have been there, circling in the back of his mind, causing him even moreso to stay away from the cabin. “But that is outlawed,” the elder chuckles, standing up straight as he walks away. “We can't go back to alphas slaughtering the young. We would have no village, you see? And it took a village to raise you, like all the other youth.”

He looks over his shoulder at Jinki, looking the offspring up and down. “Yet you still lack control of yourself, even after all this time. But worry not, you have been given your mate’s life. Not everyone is as blessed by the gods’ good fortune.”

Jinki nearly seethes. He knows his parent is right, pointing out his weak flaws, but he still twists inwardly with anger.

“What did I tell you about washing? You better not come before me looking as you do again,” Jinki is dismissed with the flick of a wrist.

Jinki quickly bows and sees himself out.

Minho's life been spared but not without cost.

“Come along, I'll wash you,” Minho offers, ushering Jinki towards the tub of warm water sitting in the cabin as soon as the alpha is through the front door.

To be able to still wash himself at the cabin has been a relief to Minho. He's taken advantage of it during his recovery of the village’s punishment for his crimes. Long baths while the little ones sleep is what keeps Minho feeling alive.

Jinki looks, as much as smells, like he hasn't stepped foot into a bathhouse for days. It's a surprising sight considering his status as an elder’s offspring.

Jinki does not say anything, simply undresses while glancing around for the young. He's only just returned to the cabin, gone overnight again, but never saying what the reasons are for.

“Jinsun sleeps now. I fed him shortly ago.” It's what Jinki likes hearing, that his own seed is cared for above all else.

Once bare, Jinki steps into the warm tub of water, sinking slowly into it. His posture relaxes, proving it's just what he needs.

Minho sits on a chair and gently washes the alpha, finding a calm himself in the simple motions. Striking up a conversation is difficult though. Minho feels himself to blame for Jinki's behaviors lately.

Jinki is more like the alpha Minho recalls first meeting than the friend he later became. Jinki is away from home more often, and when he does come back, this is the sight to behold.

Jinki's eyes are closed, head leaned back, when Minho rises to find the sheathed blade on Jinki's discarded belt. He takes it, wanting to offer to smooth over the alpha’s face.

Returning to a seat, Minho holds the blade out, drawing closer. Jinki's eyes snap open, finding the omega. Minho gives a slight jump.

“I was only going to cut the hair across your face.” Minho hesitates before adding, “You are the offspring of an elder.” The rest is unspoken, it's enough to imply that the alpha’s fresh appearance is important.

Jinki rubs the back of his hand over the scruff of whiskers, hesitant, before nodding approval.

Minho is careful gliding the blade over Jinki's cheeks and chin, dabbing some washing cream left sitting near the tub for a closer shave. Though it's not the first time, it's been awhile since the omega dragged a blade carefully across the alpha’s face.

It's silent as Minho works, Jinki’s head leaned back with even breaths.

One last time, Minho rinses the blade, smiling at his work. Jinki looks cleaned up and back to his usual appearance. Dark hair has lengthened slightly below ears, longer than the omega's hair now, and it softens the alpha’s young appearance even moreso. If only a smile would return to the alpha.

Minho leans in, inhaling the fresh scent of the cleaned alpha. Jinki's eyes blink open, glancing at Minho, the held gaze lingering a long moment.

Though clothed, Minho is pulled into the tub with a small yelp, splashing water, body settling on knees above Jinki, their mouths meeting with a thrust of motion.

Minho's face is touched while his hands scoop through the back of Jinki's hair. The kiss is heated, the first time their lips have been together since before the new birth. Also the touch comes with a venerable sadness misplaced. It's hard to tell whose, but possibly both their emotional states clash.

As Jinki's lips travel down along Minho's jaw, the back of the omega’s neck pulsates again, escaping a groan. A hand clutching the back of the tub moves to Jinki's warm shoulder, then down his front, wanting to touch him, the impulse is strong, wanting so desperately now to suck on Jinki, taste the hot seed on his tongue.

As his neck pulsates a rising burn, the omega’s head throbs, trying to find himself through the sudden onslaught of emotion. That which is so intense, invading his whole being, can't be really him, but what lies subtly beneath, that's where he finds his truth.

‘I miss you’, is what Minho finds in that calm subtle place, but his voice can only fall in heavy breathes. He tries to express it in how he moves.

Minho's fingers run over Jinki's inner thigh, his own clothing soaked through, as Jinki keeps the omega close in sucking kisses. Minho heats hotter than he's been for so long. It's only now he realizes how empty he's been day to day, because it's easier to face than pain.

The alpha had come back for him, when he was to be left abandoned by the village, by everyone; Jinki came for Minho.

Jinki came back…

Suddenly, the cabin door swings open, Jonghyun rubbing his stomach while grumbling about his hunger as he walks in. The full bath catches his attention, trailing off his thoughts.

“..my apologies..”

As Jonghyun begins to leave, Minho stumbles wet from the tub, pulling out of Jinki's hold. He hisses, stitches between legs no longer fresh but healing taking time.

“Don't go..” Minho drips all over the floor, hands through his butchered hair. “It is your home, too..”

Minho glances at Jinki while rubbing his ear, finding the alpha sigh and swipe his shaven face. Jinki stands to dress himself, refusing Minho’s offered help.

“I can do it myself,” the response is low and dismissive.

Jonghyun slowly closes the door behind him. Minho tries not to think anything into the alpha’s isolation. He takes to cleaning up the mess, before Jonghyun shoos him to get into dry clothes himself.

It's been awhile since Minho could comfortably rest on his knees to wash his mate’s feet; afterbirth wearing off, thin figure back. It's a relief to be back to regular duties. His wounds, at least physical, have healed for the most part. But otherwise, Minho buries it. He has two to feed now, keeping him busy, and his chest awful tender.

Glancing up from under lashes, Minho finds Jinki cleaned up, face smooth, hair trimmed, only a smudge of dirt on one cheek from a day of village duties.

Yoojin peers over Minho’s work, until Jonghyun swoops her up and carries her to the back room speaking about carved dolls.

Jinki's far off stare reminds Minho of how distant the alpha has been of late. Or is it Minho, being busy with the children and recovering? Soon the omega will be set for proper village duties again, just in time for the busy spring.

“Jonghyun..”

“Hm?” Minho pauses, hands pulled from the warm bowl of water.

“The beta, he does a lot around here, doesn't he..”

Minho supposes he's been around more lately to help. His chest clenches for taking little thought about it. “He does,” Minho's lisp drawls, speaking fondly, “Jonghyun is a hard worker..”

The omega smiles with thoughts for the beta. Jonghyun is worthy of much praise.

Jinki looks thoughtful again, just as there is the noise of loud spilling and Jonghyun's wail from the other room. The sleeping little ones stir with crying. Minho’s head lowered, he feels a sudden patting across his short hair. He looks back up, large eyes wide. Jinki doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even smile, but the touch, it was gentle on the omega.

As Minho stands, wet hands shaken off, his wrist is clutched. Minho looks back to find Jinki's firm look.

“Feed Jinsun first.”

Minho looks at the door, then back to the alpha. He nods, but a part of him aches for the child who is treated coldly.

“He will feed first…”

Jinki releases Minho, falling back against the chair, blinking a hazy gaze.

Minho opens the back door to dolls scattered across the floor and Yoojin playful, and obstructively, clinging to the beta’s leg as he tries to clean up the mess.

“Now, a beta you say…” an elder flips through a stack of roughly bound books, looking over records inside the small room dim of light by candles.

Jinki watches an elder, attempting not to step out of line. But Jinki already mentioned his reasons for seeking the elder’s council.

“He's not of this village,” Jinki clears his throat, reminding the old man, maybe his mind is beginning to fail him. If so, a new elder could be on his way in much sooner.

“Ah!” the elder chortles and reaches for a shelf of more records, pulling out a scroll of foreign presence. Unraveled, he searches through more scrawled ink. The elder stops, finger pressing. “Sixty eighty four,” he rattles off.

“Jonghyun,” Jinki repeats the name offered earlier, not enjoying the sound of numbers attached to the beta. They're records, keeping track of the population amongst a village and who has been offered for labor in neighboring villages, or those simply traded.

“Yes, that is the name scrawled here,” the elder squints, finger beside an empty column next to the name. It's mostly blank beside the beta’s name; wise enough to stay out of trouble. That's more than Jinki can say of his own records surely.

“The beta has no record of being mated. so you are putting forward a request?”

Jinki nods. “I wish to have him as a secondary.”

“You have an omega already, yes?” the elder asks, tone as if he doesn't already know Jinki's muddled history.

“I do..”

“You are an elders’ offspring, it is expected you would seek more,” the elder wears a pleased expression, looking over the young alpha. “In my youth, there were many..” he seems lost a moment in fond memories.

Jinki doesn't want to cause any more a stir, so he has come with notice of his decision in hope for approval. It's a change from his dealings with mating Minho without words to the elders first. He's been considering this for some time, and now more than ever the beta’s warmth is a glow Jinki does not want to lose to someone else. Jinki wants to protect it.

“Well, he is not our mut, you may have him if you choose so. Elder blessings.”

Subconsciously, Jinki stands taller, chin high and a smile slipping only a moment. He's happy, that's what the eerily foreign emotion is. But also, it confuses Jinki. Is he acting nothing but brash again?

If he doesn't make some sort of change now, Jinki is afraid of what could become of him--to all of them.

“But do keep him out of trouble,” it's a stern warning, a reminder of what has befallen the alpha with his mated omega. “There is much expected being an offspring of a great alpha.”

Jinki knows, he's constantly reminded. A deep, respectful bow is given before Jinki bids his leave.

A final decision is now to be made.

Taeyeon sits, exhausted, rubbing the growing bump beneath her warm layers. Her feet have begun to swell daily, causing her required duties to slow. Certainly, she does not feel the youth of eighteen years she's been living.

The female watches those passing after washing themselves head to toe on their return from where the females bleeding stay. If nothing else, it is joyous not to visit those cramped quarters as she bleeds due to being with child.

Taeyeon glances down, a hand along the long braid of her black hair, thoughts wandering to a certain beta. “Why do you smile?”

Taeyeon looks up to find the young female brought to her village by Minho and Jonghyun. She grows, becoming beautiful, but also a target for betas to lay seed. She's worried for.

“Hm?” had she been smiling?

“You sit and smile like this a lot lately. Could it be..” she leans in, peer over the older female. “You are with child? Is it Hyunnie’s?”

Taeyeon’s eyes widen, her smile nervous. She has yet to tell the beta. In fact, she hadn't seen him around much, even when she sent word with another beta to let him know she would like him to visit again.

But recent word from the village she is barely allowed to stroll, is worrisome. Minho's delivery gave unexpected results. Judging by Madam’s face when she heard, she already knew.

When Taeyeon will see Jonghyun again, she does not know. He is very loyal to Minho, and even that alpha Jinki. It's what she loves about the beta, but also envies to be such an importance.

“It is not to be spoken of, you understand? I will tell him when the time is right,” Taeyeon says warningly.

The youth nods and reaches to touch small bump.

“This seed will be blessed,” she smiles, still so young herself.

Taeyeon caresses the youth’s face, thankful for her kind words.

The beta is laid out soaked in sweat beneath another, determination fiery in round, lively eyes.

“This is what you want?”

A light rain patters along the cabin's roof. The fire has burned down, but that isn't what has the two across the bed damp and short of breath. Jonghyun's throat is dry, nearly unable to answer. He nods. “I want you.. please.. have me..”

Jinki, bent over the beta below, searches Jonghyun for protest. Jonghyun understands that what us done cannot be undone. There would be no going back.

The effects caused to his being could be damaging. It's a risk Jonghyun is willing to take. So much of his heart has no other home now. Jinki is home.

Jonghyun offers up his bare arm, and Jinki takes it, to drag his tongue across the inside of the wrist. A pause then happens, one of labored breathing and no time for second guesses between.

Jinki's breaths are heavy as his features sharpen, eyes dilated, cuspids lengthened. Teeth sink into the beta’s skin, tearing. Jonghyun's shrill scream bounces off the walls. Quickly he slaps a hand over his mouth, face scrunched in pain. Blood trickles down the beta’s shaking arm.

A muffled growl and tightened grip around the beta’s arm. Jonghyun can't catch his breath.

When Jinki leans back, red is a smear across puffy lips, and eyes brighten, almost a glow about them. It's a moment of pure euphoria. A new beginning has been claimed.

Then it strikes Jonghyun so suddenly, a tense, paralyzing rush. Every sense is on edge, vision blinding and air choking. It's drowning without the river.

A sense of sinking grows, of losing one's self. Jonghyun's eyes leak tears and he begins to shake. It's a surprise, though it shouldn't be, that Jinki falls against Jonghyun in a tight embrace, pressed into the bed. He's told to breathe, he thinks, and lips are on his sharing a breath.

Jonghyun warms, and it's strange to realize it isn't his own emotions: it's Jinki's, his warmth and strength, his happiness to have the beta near. They share everything.

Jonghyun sobs, so overwhelmed sorting what is his own and what is another's. Where does he end and Jinki begin?

Fists grip tightly to the bed as Jinki pushes inside him once more, slow and drawn out, but the intensity is more than Jonghyun has ever felt before. The tears won't stop.

Knees clamp at Jinki's sides, wet bodies slide, riding out the slow rolls. Jonghyun's squeaking voice carries loud but words escape him, as if no longer a tongue to even speak.

Willing bodies moving together says enough.

Jonghyun still can't quite believe he isn't lost in a dream, even as Minho comes from the back with dawn seeping through the windows and Jinki having disappeared before Jonghyun awakening.

But beneath a bruised ring of teeth and dried blood, the mark across his inner wrist is no sign of dirt or birth defect. It's the unique marking, the texture of it coarse, skin darkened, left behind by Jinki's mating to him--a mere beta.

Minho rubs sleepy eyes, looking to Jonghyun still in bed. The beta’s insides are unusually prickly all over, and he feels if he were to stand now he would collapse to the floor.

“He's already gone..?”

Jonghyun nods.

Minho crawls onto Jonghyun’s bed, curling up beside him, a grin below closed eyes. “I can smell him on you..” he mumbles, seemingly pleased by it. The omega rubs Jonghyun’s hand, then down along the wrist. The omega suddenly stiffens, recognizing that texture of skin.

“Ming?”

“You.. you're..”

Jonghyun holds his wrist up to look once more at the change, where Minho can also gaze upon it. Cautiously, Minho reaches to touch it again, long fingertips oddly soothing to the heat just below the skin.

“Jinki?”

“Yes.”

“Is this.. what you truly want?”

Jonghyun doesn't recall being this sure of something in a long time. “It is..” the glow of his expression only brightens.

“Are you.. happy?” Minho softly asks, fingers plucking at the blanket Jonghyun lay bare beneath.

“I think I am.”

Minho rolls his head to the crook of Jonghyun’s neck, arms wrapping around the small beta. “I want you to be.”

Whispering and glaring stares follow Minho wherever he goes.

Is that the omega?

Fingers point. Eyes stare at the now exposed mating marks across his long neck, his hair cut so short allowing the thick twisted and dark state of it to be seen for themselves. Horrible things are said about him. As Minho has returned to village duties, just the same as any other of his kind after birth, the atmosphere is heavy with his presence. The cold of a prolonged winter doesn't lighten the load.

It's as if being marked by disease.

With Jinki having taken a secondary mate in Jonghyun, the beta often takes Jinki's seed, to lessen Minho's physical stress; trusted with the care of a mate's seed. If he doesn't try to carry two young at the same time, he stands a chance of maybe slipping by unnoticed.

The omega kind of this village, they always notice. Minho's baskets of goods mysteriously spilled or his tools to till thawing ground gone missing.

To think, if Minho had birthed two of Jinki's seed, he would be donned in soft robes, fawned over by fellow omegas while some would hide their envy. But Minho doesn't think much about it anymore, because nothing can change it now.

Swaddled in a sling around Minho's front is Minjae, as the omega works. Jonghyun has been given other duties and with him took Jinsun. Minho appreciates the lighter load, but worries for the beta.

Jonghyun appears happier than Minho can ever recall seeing him, almost as if the beta is a changed person. In a sense, Minho supposes he is, much like the changes that overtook himself after having been taken by his mating claim.

But the effects take to Jonghyun differently than omega kind. The beta is still broken out in a rash that soothing ointment does little to cure, and his moods swing from aggressive to weeping. It's true, just the other morning, Minho woke to find Jonghyun with tears in his eyes staring at a dead mouse in the doorway. The omega never seen anything like it from a beta. Minho offered Jonghyun the idea of burying the deceased creature. Jonghyun accepted.

As Minjae begins to fuss, a fellow omega pauses in raking the fields for the coming spring crops.

“Now, which one does this belong to?”

Minho does not turn from his own digging.

“...Or does an omega like you lose count?”

Laughter carries down the line or workers. Minho is reminded he's always been the outsider to this village; he saw the same behavior to outsiders from his own village, some of it so cruel to witness. He was never going to be easily accepted in a different village. Fists shake, frown deepening. The desire to strike is becoming harder to silence.

“Ah, Minho!”

Looking up from his work, Minho finds the beta Minseok stopping nearby with a cart of goods dragged behind him. The beta is foreign, like Minho, to this village, but unlike Minho who ran from his home village, Minseok is in the village by trade of labor. The beta smiles, giving a sincere warmth so many lack when addressing Minho these days.

“You are looking better each day.”

Minho turns away with a smile, but he finds some unfriendly looks, and it's easy to understand what they imply. Minho would bend over for anyone. A panic rises, memories of the past slipping the smile from his face.

“Are you not well?”

The beta’s concern is too kind, Minho thinks. He faces Minseok, even without a smile, shaking his head. “I'm fine. I'm happy to work again,” freedom from the cabin is bliss.

“I'm glad,” Minseok begins dragging the cart behind him, leaving. “This village is nothing special without you around.”

Minho's eyes widen, left agape as the beta moves on with nothing more to add. He cups the small body warm against him, heart thumping faster.

The omega’s cheeks twitch into a genuine smile he keeps hold of for himself.

Jinki groans. Unbeknownst to him, he's curled up like a child in a pile of hay just behind the walls of the alpha compound. He dreams suffocating darkness; sinking.

An alpha kicks his boot at Jinki's legs, rousing him. A cup falls from loose hands, empty of drink. So many drinks the night before, sitting at the fire, Jinki's head thumps.

As squinted vision comes into focus, Jinki finds the figure looming over him to be Kyuchul. Jinki tenses.

“Rough night? Did the company of favor go to your head?” Kyuchul asks, referring to those who still greet him, despite the gossip of his mate and offspring.

Jinki spends more time behind the walls with his kind these days, many nights drinking until sunrise. He is still teased, still mocked by many, backs turned on him once again. But those that look at him as an equal now, still admiring him from the tale of the manwolf hunt and slaying, Jinki relishes in it. To some, the story of slaying the manwolf holds higher than the latest shame; for it is seen as the omega’s shame and betrayal, not Jinki’s.

Jinki slowly uncurls, head hung. Kyuchul crouches in front of the small alpha, a hand scooping stray strains back to the short ponytail atop his own head. A quiet shiver Jinki is left with when the elite caresses his cheek. Jinki looks into the slit eyes of the other for whom he has carried so much disdain. It's himself he sees staring back at him; eyes dark, but holding a softness.

Before any word is shared between the two, Jinki is splashed in the face with cold water by a ladle hidden behind the other alpha.

Jinki yelps and sputters, flailing back with surprise. Kyuchul stands with laughter, but Jinki catches it. He wishes he hadn't. The laughter isn't with malice.

Jinki suddenly heats to the memory of the two in the cold woods, lips to his, the sensation of life returning to him when all was lost.

Kyuchul, an elite Jinki once admired with everything he had, breathed life back into Jinki's body.

“Are you ready?” Kyuchul asks.

Jinki wipes his face on sleeves, feeling the crisp of winter air sober him up. “Ready for what?”

“You are on overnight assignment with my pack.”

Jinki looks perplexed. “Why me?”

“Why not you? Did you not earn respect for slaying a manwolf?”

Jinki feels uneasy about it, about how Kyuchul looks at him now. But also, at the same time, Jinki is curious, excited even, about being respected among his kind.

A hand is offered to help Jinki up. The smaller takes the palm, rising to his feet, head unsteadily bumping into Kyuchul’s broad chest. His musky scent is engrossing, the warmth of it captivates Jinki a long moment, peeking up at the alpha’s face.

“Wash up,” Kyuchul orders,stepping back. “We leave at sundown for the village across the stoney lake.”

Jinki nods.

In the back room, Minho returns beneath covers, after feeding Minjae who woke with hungry wails. His chest sores, having two to feed many times a day.

The child not of his true mate still remains in Minho's care. It seems no one is coming for him, but Minho can't let his guard down so easily.

He glances at the door again, noise of the two outside it unignorable.

The omega rolls to his side, curled up, hands over his ears. But the energy it takes to try to ignore it all is exhausting. Minho sprawls out on his back, sighing heavily.

Sounds still carry.

Fingertips run across Minho's body, slow, gently, wanting to feel their touches. Jonghyun has been around nights much more often lately, and Jinki, he goes to the beta to mount more often than Minho.

The omega wonders if he smells foul. His stitches have healed, he's back to his usual strength, but still Jinki only comes to Minho for his mouth and the suckle on a still swollen chest.

His hole hasn't been used since the punishment declared by elders for his shame. Not since before mating has Minho gone so long like this. He's no longer used to it, after nearly daily mountings, unless carrying seed.

The noises beyond the door won't end.

Minho rolls onto his stomach, knees bent beneath him and legs spread. Face nestled in the blankets, Minho touches and rubs himself, and not for the first time, to the sounds in the other room.

Another hand runs between cheeks, long finger tracing what has healed. With eyes closed, too many flashes of the elders’ punishment creep in, halting him with alarm.

Minho opens his eyes, focusing on something else a moment; an empowering thought, the defiance in going against the teaching of his youth. Don't touch your own self, that's not your choice, they said.

Minho chooses now.

A finger is pushed inside, slightly wet from his rubbing between legs. A thin finger is nothing compared to the girth of an alpha, but as a growling moan is heard on the other side of the door, it's enough to carry on his own pleasure, something so long denied of him if given to himself instead of taken.

Minho's eyes can close again, thoughts filled with the sweaty things going on outside the door; smell it, taste it. Hips roll and groans are muffled.

The omega wonders if either of them can smell his scent as thighs drip with it. Do they think of him or has his smell soured.

A shriek rings out from the other room. Jonghyun.

Minho rubs the small of his swollen length and jerks quicker. The bedding dampens from the leaking press of the omega’s engorged chest. The creaking of the wooden platform of the beta’s bed is deafening. Minho's neck spirals tingles down his spine, banishing all worries from his mind.

Nothing matters but feeling this thick relief from everything.

A face flashes behind his eyes, a familiar touch is remembered, a strong alpha urges the omega to give into him.

It's not Jinki.

Muscles quiver when the omega squirts short strings into his palm. He contracts around the finger buried into him as deep as it can go. It's not far enough.

Minho falls to his side, eyes lidded. He breathes heavy, alone still, even as it quiets down beyond the door. A once aching chest subsides, tingles reaching everything sore about his body, soothing it. It feels so good to have that relief.

Body spread out, the bed is lonely.

Finger tracing lips, and pressing inside to lick, Minho hazily ponders the whereabouts of another alpha connected to him, feeding off his being. How much does Jinki desire to rid them of that one child?

It's in the days Minho spends in the cabin without the alpha or beta that be works on a project all his own. Simply, if his duties are complete what is he to do anyway; his kind still snares at him.

With the little ones sleeping and Yoojin playing with the collection of carved dolls, Minho sits at the table, carving a special piece to the scraps of silver he found trampled on along a village path.

In his youth, Minho had faced consequences for taking silver, but that wasn't by finding it dull and dirty on the ground.

Minho smiles at his work, scraping his knife just so, forming a holes for the jagged slivers he washed clean and shiny.

He works with someone in mind. Jinki. The omega has been wanting to do something special for him, but his time is spread thinner than before and as just a mere omega he has access to few things that would be worthy of a gift.

A sniffle and scrunched nose pulls the omega away from his work, smell of another diaper change in need. He goes through so many, receiving an angry look from the beta that comes by to pick up their soiled clothing.

“Who is it this time?” Minho sighs, rising from his work at the table.

The omega really wasn't prepared for the care of two young at the same time. But he's trying; even worse would be them taken from him now.

After the changing, Minho can sit and work a little more on his project, a hum in his voice.

Whenever the front door creaks open, Minho has his secret work already hidden away, not wanting to present it until completion.

Minho hopes Jinki will like it. Unaware, he is excited to please the alpha in every way.

“Don't..” Jinki reaches for Jonghyun’s wrist, grip on it so tight he yelps. The beta lay beneath Jinki on the bed in the corner, like many nights. But the alpha has changed suddenly.

Jinki drags Jonghyun’s hand back between them, removing it from where it had run along his ass, damp fingers circling his hole. Jonghyun hadn't thought much of it; in fact he's missed mounting another. It's in his nature to crave both, it's the way of a beta; always somewhere in the middle, never enough at either end.

But Jinki won't allow Jonghyun near his hole. He shouldn't be surprised, he's an alpha after all, but the look in Jinki's eyes, the sudden jolt of fear? Panic? Something not of Jonghyun’s own mind seeps into him, forming in untold story.

“I'm sorry..” Jonghyun offers, submitting to his mate, body lax.

Jinki pauses, before pressing his lips to Jonghyun’s palm, then drops the hand and finds the other, securing both wrists of the beta’s down against the bed, not allowing the beta to use them anymore. He leans into touch their wet mouths, hips rolling together.

Jonghyun doesn't understand what comes over Jinki in these moments.

Minho's clothing and boots are folded up neatly beside him on the table he sits bare skinned across, ankles hooked together. A shiver finds him, the cold just outside twisting in through the cracks in the walls.

The omega waits for the custom exam from a village elder. He being with child and the extra time it's taken to heal has left the omega not yet to be in position for the typical exams by this village. He, like any omega, must be examined periodically by an elder to be trusted they are still worthy a breeder.

The door to the room Minho had been escorted to inside the building of elders draws open, entering a medical beta and an elder. Minho's large eyes blink wider, surprised to find that same elder, the one before with Jinki. Even closer now, Minho notes, their features are strikingly similar, but size isn't much of a resemblance at all.

Minho bows his head with respect he's due to show. The beta has a scroll he uses as he explains some of Minho's known history. Mostly it notes the recent births and healings, also that he has yet to see the return of his heat cycles.

The elder lifts Minho's head, looking the omega over, but mostly gazing upon his face.

“I see why Jinki goes to such lengths,” the elder chuckles with a shake of his head. “What peculiar eyes..”

Minho watches, agape.

“Has he not spoken of me?” the elder looks amused. “That child..”

“You are really his elder parent?”

“I am.”

Minho cracks a small smile, glad to now know which elder truly is the alpha parent of Jinki. This elder’s seed is what created Jinki, and for that, Minho shows his respects, sitting up straighter.

“What was he like?” Minho asks, so full of curiosity he risks stepping out of line in front of an elder.

The elder looks taken aback by such a question, but he strokes his white beard in thought, having many offspring and their youth possibly hard to recall.

“The only offspring that nearly passed away at birth.”

Minho's eyes widen with sadness at such a thought.

“He was always… lacking.”

Minho’s once happy expressions sinks further, finding such a way of describing Jinki hurtful to him.

“Does that upset you?” the elder twirls a finger in Minho’s scruffy hair, “It would, he’s your mate after all, even with shortcomings.”

Shortcomings--how could that be, when Jinki has protected Minho, has done so much… the mating claim across Minho’s skin heats and he touches it idly, never fully understanding the connection between it and his emotional thoughts towards the alpha.

A gentle pat atop Minho's head has the omega gazing upon a smiling expression so familiar to Jinki, a sense of security falling over the omega, regardless if a false sense.

Minho's chest, still engorged despite the rest of his body returning lean as he's been on duties and given lacking meals, is taken in a squeeze, dribbling feed he still produces for the two birthed. The omega winces, tender.

“I suppose having two mouths to feed leaves you this swollen still,” the elder says.

Minho tenses, reminded this is an elder who also determined his punishment, his hands now touching him.

“Tell me,” the omega’s arms and legs are drawn up to look thoroughly over, only slight markings now left by the village square punishment. “.. is Jinki still tending to you? I have heard he has taken a beta for a secondary.”

After what has just been said of Jinki, his existence lowered, Minho feels anything but the truth should be shared in this room. A strong sense of protection flares up.

“He does,” is Minho's less than truthful answer. If it makes Jinki look good in the eyes of his elder parent, Minho doesn't suppose it would hurt to stretch the truth.

The elder drops Minho's leg, looking him in the eye. “He has mounted you since the second mating?”

“He has,” Minho answers, but eyes move and absent fingers find their way behind an ear, the heavy gaze on him shrinking his boldness.

“You lie terribly,” the elder grins, laughter between pressed lips. “And that child is a fool.”

subconsciously, Minho's brows furrow at the insults towards Jinki. The elder notices, pausing a moment with a long look at the omega.

“Foolish indeed..” the elder trails off thoughtfully.

Next Minho's head is forced to the side, curls of lengthy hair swept aside so the marking can be looked at. It's studied, before fingers touch the darkened and thickened layer of skin. Minho jumps, then eyes squeeze shut. He tries to will himself to remain in control but the rubbing and pinching leave eyes rolling back and body falling forward, caught by the elder before Minho crashed to the floor.

“Interesting…” the elder settled Minho back. “What do you suppose happens to an omega inflicted with many mating claims?”

The question is asked of Minho, and he pauses in thought, recalling the old writings found in the library. “They.. um.. run as wild animals..?”

The elder has a laugh, most boisterous sound out of him since he entered the room, looking over his shoulder at the smiling beta in the room with them. “Where did you get that idea?”

“I..the writings..”

“This,” he points to Minho’s head, “Loses all connection to this here,” his palm touches the omega's chest. “And they become hollow. Are you prepared for that?”

Minho lowers his head, pals turned up in his lap as he watches his hands. The question is alarming, but more he has is own question. “What if you don’t know who you are from the beginning?”

The elder, not laughing suddenly this time, chimes, “We might just find out..”

The discussion is over then, as Minho is prompted to stand for inspection. The sooner Minho is done the sooner he can leave and put it behind him.

Long legs wobble, as Minho stands and bends over the table, legs spread. He hangs his head, bracing himself for the discomfort exams always bring.

Cheeks are spread and a dry finger inserted. Minho's knuckles go white against the table, pain reaching, as the long finger curls in deeper.

But different than usual, Minho reaches for his neck, falling forward flat to the table, trying to draw back the onset of warm tingling down his spine as the finger dry inside him explores.

“Now, what is this?”

Minho's closed eyes shoot open, a gasp escaping as fingers now touch the small of his exposed length swollen up.

“Unusual..” the elder comments, and the beta writes on the scroll.

The fingers stroke, and Minho's digging at his neck does nothing to stop his body from reacting or the heavy breathing as he tries to catch his breath.

It's happening again, a body no longer something to simply be used by others--but now controlled from the inside out by something unseen to the naked eye.

The finger inside the omega moves around with ease as his body grows wet, so much so, he leaks down trembling thighs. Minho's forehead bangs into the table, small teeth biting back noise.

The pain is drown out by immense pleasures. Minho can't stifle the cry of a moan. Nails break skin around the twisted mating mark, doing nothing to distract but rather only heighten the good sensations; eyes dilating, long lashes a flutter, the best pleasure in days.

Minho doesn't want it. It's not him.

It's not long before Minho squirts strings onto the floor as he whimpers and feels the wet leaking from his hole down to his feet. All hands off his body, he slips to the floor with a thud.

“I'm sure this one is still very much fertile,” the elder says, “Surely still good for breeding in his youth.”

The medical beta looks surprised by what has just been witnessed, writing down more notes.

“Could it be that happened because his alpha hasn't mounted him?” the beta asks.

“Possibly,” the elder muses, watching the omega’s limp body tangled on the floor.

Minho is lifted back onto the table face down, legs dangling off, body still trembling. Hair is pushed off his damp, flushed face by the elder. He feels too weak to move much of anything, lidded eyes barely meeting. A soothing numbing washes over him, as if subdued, leaving thoughts no longer racing.

“Jinki is too weak for the likes of you,” fingers wet of Minho's slick scent trace the omega’s parted lips. “How will he manage your corruption.”

Minho's eyes close as his cheek his slapped, as if affectionate, before the elder is leaving the room.

A cold, ominous breeze whistles through thickening trees. Minho glances behind him, then either side, but only frozen vegetation is found.

How the omega has ventured out into the tangled and rough woods so deep, he still can't answer. We swears he heard a plea for help at the forest’s edge, but the further he goes there is still no signs of anyone in distress. It was not his intention to wander so far.

The basket Minho weaved and had been on route to deliver to the betas in charge of distribution is still nestled at is side. Minjae is secured in a pouch sling over shoulders, in silent slumber. No matter how far Minho follows the plea, it seems he gets nowhere.

“Hello?” Minho tries again, “Someone here?”

Minho spins around at a sudden noise, finding birds taking flight. He clutches his chest, a heavy sigh as he reminds himself he's no longer afraid of what may lurk in the woods; no crazed animals are out to mount him and leave him with a monster inside him. Those are just scary tales. He's grown, not a child afraid of being alone in the deep woods.

But soon another snapping noise turns the omega around, lips parted with a gasp of fright.

There, in the barely disturbed white of freshly fallen snow, is the shade of crimson. Minho's eyes widen.

From behind a thick tree, a staggering figure emerges, clothing tattered and stained in red. Minho drops the basket, concern for another driving him forward.

“You are..”

Minho's wrist is taken before he can touch the other, tugged by abnormal strength. A male no older in appearance than himself, falls to knees, a tight grip remaining; ice cold. Eyes look up at Minho, slit in a curl, much like a beautiful forest fox. The sharp, pale features are striking.

Minho does not recall the face among the villagers, but the large village with so many coming and going, he simply could have missed this person.

“You..”

The injured groans.

“What happened?”

“The alpha..” a voice is weak.

“You need to see a medic.”

Minbo is jerked on, his balance lost to the strength of the stranger. He stumbles to knees, clothing soaking up the chilling snow. Minho is eye to eye with the other, blood running from a gash on his forehead.

The gaze in eyes staring back at Minho are deep, a profound lack of warmth, but strikingly clear. Minho has seen something similar once. The memory of it startles the omega; once pinned down and nearly bitten. He wants to be released but the strength of the hold is much like an alpha’s, even in this weakened appearance.

“I'll take you to the village, they--”

Minho isn't even finished before the stranger moves with unusual speed, releasing the omega but swiftly stealing the sleeping child from Minho's back, tearing the sling off and cradling Minjae in one arm.

“No!” Minho stands, his taller height an advantage over the other, but the stranger isn't an omega like Minho, or even a beta. “He's mine!”

The injured stranger steps back, a slight upward twitch to his lips as he glances at Minjae, then back to Minho. He sniffs the child, then says “This little one will be fine, as long as you do as I say.”

The words pierce Minho slowly, as panic overtakes,not willing to lose what is his.

“Go to your village, bring me those medical supplies.”

“You will give him back?”

“I have no use for him.”

“Minjae..”

“Hm?” the the stranger arches a brow, expression the most human since they met.

“His name is Minjae..” Minho repeats, full of worry.

“I suppose it would have a name,” he chuckles, then grimaces.

“Do.. do you have a name?”

“I'm called Kibum,” the other offers without hesitation, eyes a slight roll. “Now go, I'll wait.”

Minho can't take his eyes off Minjae, he can't even move. The dread of forsaking one of his own to repeated abandonment is too much like his own past.

“Go!” Kibum’s voice pitches a frightening hiss, setting flight to birds in surrounding trees.

Minho runs.

((TBC))

#onho #jongyu #jongho #shinee #minho #onew #jonghyun #taemin #fic: onho #fic: jongyu #fic: jongho #fic: ot3 #fic: onjongho #fic: birthright verse #birthright 'verse #sorry it's a year later and not much happens in the chapter #but that's the whole story aint it

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joshpup · 7 years ago

Text

Beginners Guide to Memeteen

No one asked for this, but i made it anyways

General Info:

So the memeteen group signed under Pledis which also has Pristin, Nu’est, Orange Caramel and After School (Everyone has issues with Pledis don’t even get us started about them).

Group name Seventeen with 13 members because 13 members, 3 units and 1 team equals 13 (also originally they had 17 members but this works too).

They finally debuted on May 26, 2015 after being pushed back for far to long

debuted with the amazing song Adore U, and so far have had 8 comebacks: Mansae, Pretty U, Very Nice, Boom Boom, Don’t Want to Cry, Clap, Thanks, Oh My!

They also have an mv for their song Healing, Love Letter, Shining Diamond, Smile Flower, and Q&A (just scoups, woozi and vernon), Change Up (scoups, woozi, and hoshi)

Have 9 amazing albums: 17 Carat, Boys Be, Love & Letter (Repackaged), Going Seventeen, A|1, Teen,Age, Director’s Cut , and You Make My Day (buy the albums tho)

They made their Japanese debut on May 16, 2018 with Call Call Call! and released an album called We Make You

Units

Hip-Hop Unit:

Scoups (leader), Wonwoo, Mingyu, Vernon

-created the masterpiece that is Check-In

Mansae Hip Hop Ver.

Trauma MV

Vocal Unit:

Woozi (leader), Jeonghan, Joshua, Dk, Seungkwan

-created the masterpiece that is Chocolate

Adore U Acoustic Ver.

Very Nice Acoustic Ver.

Pinwheel MV

Performance Unit:

Hoshi (leader), Jun, The8, Dino

Adore U Perf Ver.

Mansae Perf Ver.

-created the masterpiece that is Highlight rip carats

Lilili Yabbay MV

Seventeen-BSS

Hoshi, DK, Seungkwan

Just Do It

Just Do It Dance Practice

Members

Scoups/Seungcheol {info} aka the dad

-So he’s the leader of memeteen, #1 dad lets be real, longest trainee in svt, someone please give this boy a puppy he just needs a dog in his life okay. super sweet and caring, best leader ever honestly no one else could handle those other 12 boys.

-appeard in Nu’est Face MV, After School Blue’s ‘Wonder Boy’ MV, Happy Pledis ‘Love Letter’ MV (pledis boys ver)

Jeonghan {info} aka the mom

-one of his nicknames in angel, but don’t let that fool you, he’s a swindler. Will not hesitate to cheat watch out for this one. sleeps everywhere possible anytime possible. each comeback his hair gets shorter, lets just hope he doesn’t go bald. Exo’s Sehuns worst nightmare.

Joshua/Jisoo {info} aka the church boy

-Instagram

-Oh shua, our beloved meme and church oppa this is a very dead joke now plz dont use it but if you see it thats shua. 1/2 of american line. Seems quiet and normal but the longer you know him the weirder you realise he truely is. Has a weird obsession with aliens (1,2) Stan talent, stan pindropping shua. huge anime lover. He has also had pink and purple hair and every carat cried

-beautifully covered Overcome with Nu’est’s Minhyun

-The jokes that never die: Drink water, not Alcohol, when in doubt, sings Sunday Morning, and his crappy beautiful rapping

Jun/Junhui {info} aka the real mom of the group

-Crazy for you cover

-1/2 of china line. Best eye rolls the world will ever know. people call him greasy, hes not reall but whatever. very sassy. his legendary part in Mansae that makes him look like the McDonalds logo. Also the time he dressed up in an actually carrot costume.

Films: The Pye-Dog {pt.1 pt.2} (sorry i couldn’t find it in one part), Ip Man: The Legend Is Born, Intouchable (a series)

Hoshi/Soonyoung {info} aka naega hosh

-Okay so choreographs all their dances goals so naturally, best dancer ever. LOUD. Also shinee’s biggest fanboy, if you thought that you were shinees biggest fan ur wrong its Hosh proof: 1, 2, 3. a cute little hamster i die everyday. 10 hours 10 minutes. Black belt in Taekwondo... why dont we ever get to see anything ??

-appered in Nu’est Face MV, and Hello Venus Venus MV

Wonwoo {info} aka rbf master

-was originally a singer, but switched to rapping before debuting, so not only does wonu have an amazing voice but can rap suuuuuper well, and can easily switch between the two its stunning. always calm and usually has an rbf but hes actaully really fun love our emo wonwoo. kinda reminds me of a sloth but i love him even more becasue of that lol

-appered in Nu’est Face MV, and Hello Venus Venus MV

Woozi/Jihoon {info} aka smol fairy devil

-fear him. He may look tiny and soft but he will crush you. Composes almost all of svt’s songs. Super cute and hes coming to except this as time goes on lmao. shortest member. one of the big reasons svt became a self producing group

- first to get a solo in svt called Simple

-appered in Nu’est Face MV, and Hello Venus Venus MV

Dk/Seokmin {info} aka literal sunshine

the sunshine of svt, always smiling. i saw a video of him crying once and my world shattered. LOUD pt2. super funny i love him. one of the most stable vocals in svt. can hit those high notes like nobody else.

-has this beautiful cover

Mingyu {info} aka gaint germ

-Instagram

-walking puppy? yes actually he is. also a gaint germ (1,2) so get ready. sneezes everywhere then touches everything. can go from cute to sexy with no time in between its insane. If he’s not your bias he’s your bias wrecker. Wild orange hair durning Check In era end everyone made fun of him or loved it no in between.

-Svt’s personal hairstylist

-appered in Nu’est Face MV, and Hello Venus Venus MV

The8/Minghao {info} aka arthao

-Instagram

-Literally has become the biggest artist in the world what an icon

-other half of chine line. last member to join the group. He did b-boying in china for like 6 years. here is baby hao b-boying at age 12 (he’s the tallest skinny guy and also the leader). crazy good Martial arts skills. comes off super cute a fluffy and sweet with that voice and all but a serious thug tho like 1, 2, 3

Seungkwan {info} aka future mc

-Instagram

Boo Seungkwan our sassy little guy that i love more than life itself. LOUD pt3. gonna star in the next hollywood film because of his flawless acting. Also one of the most stable vocals in svt. hits high notes so easily its not fair (like in pretty u i died). a cutie from jeju. Koreas next best MC watch out world Seungkwan is coming. pretty much helps set the happy fun tone in svt

-covered Beautiful Tomorrow perfectly

Vernon/Hansol {info} aka the living meme

oh vernon. other half of american line. best friends with Seungkwan. literally a walking meme. anything he does is dumb and i love it. example: his weird dance from Boom Boom. lots of Hotline Bling. His iconic: “mom, i won this.” terrible hair durning mansae era

-was on “Kids Explore Life” when he was little. Also a contestant on ‘JTBC Made in U’ .... headlines headlines ....

-appeared on one of Eric Nams Can’t Help Myself stages and Hello Venus ‘Venus’ MV, Sickness ft. Eunwoo of Pristin

Dino/Chan {info} aka the baby

The baby of the group. Once a baby always a baby. Dino, nugu aegi? tragic hair durning mansae era as well. best glow up of the world let me tell you i called this. Like if you think jungkook of bts had a glow up time to meet Lee Chan because his was more intense and if not faster. Fresh out of High school and living life large lol

-This amazing fancam

-his song Zero (here is the performance) and you can bet i cried when i heard this. He grew up so fast T.T

Other

Active Twitter Fansites

Seventeen’s One Fine Day: Season 1: {1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9}, Season 2

Best Stages

Girl Group Medley / Relay

Sorry Sorry cover

Happiness

Tell Me (Immortal Songs)

Boy Group Remix

Bindaetteok Gentleman

My Ears Candy (Jun and Mingyu)

My Ears Candy (Seungkwan and DK)

Who (performance unit) oddly enough this song isn’t talked about much, i think it killed every carat cause it killed me

Decalcomanie

and some of my personal faves: Show Me Your Love, Honey + Very Nice (Remix), 2016 Melon awards: Very Nice

Dance Practices/Part Switches

Adore U: Fixed Ver, Follow Ver, Part Switch Ver

Mansae: Hide Ver, Seek Ver, Follow Me Ver, Part Switch Ver

Pretty U: Love Ver, Letter Ver, Dear Carat Ver

Very Nice: Roof Top Ver, Dance Practice Ver, Part Switch Ver

Boom Boom: Front Ver, Review Ver, Santa Ver

Don’t Wanna Cry: Front Ver, Review Ver, Part Switch Ver

Clap: Practice

Thanks: Choreography Video

Other Video worth mentioning: Highlight (13 Member Ver), No. 1 Cover, Without You

Offical Links:

Offical Website // Youtube // V App // Twitter // Instagram // Weibo // Soundcloud //Facebook

Extra

Seventeen TV

Boys Wish Kindergarten Skit

Bongbong gyus precious child (a few of the many insta posts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, also bongbongie has no gender so stan talent)

the famous English Time w/ Svt

the memeteen diaries (ive never laughed so hard tbh)

ISAC aerobics - inspired by Transformers

ISAC 400m Dash

ISAC warm up dance created by our boys (ft dokyeoms singing)

Seventeen and Monsta x interactions (they’re debut buddies if you don’t die everytime they interact with each other you are doing something wrong)

Seventeen x Nu’est stage Heaven (aka the best crossover the world has yet to see)

so yah stan talent stan my memes Seventeen

91 notes · View notes

hoesidon · 7 years ago

Text

I tend to delete fics out of my bookmarks on ao3 once a fic is completed to avoid clutter but here’s a few fam :) “*” = smutty “ ♡ “ = personal fave Also, Shallura is mentioned/side pairings in a few of these fics but I think a few of these were written before the age reveal so sorry if that makes you uncomfortable please don’t give those authors grief about it. I put a warning next to the fics that contains shallura (if i missed any i’m sorry). Sorry nonnie all I really read is klance :/ If anyone wants to add to this list feel free.

Klance:

The Ultimate Wingman: by luna_fox Summary: Lance and Hunk have moved in to the new student apartments at Garrison University called The V at Garrison. Living on their floor, they meet and befriend their neighbors: Pidge, a child prodigy in robotics. Matt, Allura, and Shiro, life time friends with the boys watching over their siblings. And Keith, the anti-social boy who hates change. As time progresses, they all become friends and Lance finally finds someone to help him explore his bisexuality - his gay neighbor Keith. They strike a deal = Lance helps Keith find a social life while Keith becomes Lance’s wingman, but what happens when both men realize that their deal has become more complicated than they expected. Words: 133,128 Chapters: 25/25

The Ties That Bind by: Smiles4Voltron, Weirdpersonhere (also warning for side Shallura) Summary: Lance fell hard at Garrison, unable to stop himself from adoring his rival. However, when Kerberos went missing Keith changed. Through time, Lance got over his broken heart, swearing to never allow himself to get hurt like that again. So how come he is falling for the same tricks a year later when he is reunited with Keith and the two of them get chosen to save the Universe through Voltron! Words: 151,322 Chapters: 25/?

Blueprints by: UnderTheSilentStars (also warning for side Shallura) Summary: “While soulmarks themselves were common, it was rare for someone to have anything other than the name of their other half…and Lance had a red paw print.” Soulmark Au Words: 44,948 Chapters: 26/?

So Anyway, Here’s Wonderwall by: fairietailed, themuffintitan ♡ (also warning for side Shallura) Summary: Lance can’t seem to look anywhere but Keith as he performs. He doesn’t bother trying to hear the music over the sound of his own heartbeat in his ears. – In which Keith is a bassist and Lance is weak. Words: 59,166 Chapters: 15/?

Ignorance Is Bliss by: YouAreInAComaWakeUp (Nikanaiko) ♡ Summary: As it turns out, learning that your house is haunted makes the ghosts a lot more aggressive. Who knew? Ah, well. At least one of them is hot. And he’s the less-evil one, too, so that’s always a plus. Words: 172,675 Chapters: 30/30

This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things by: Acequisitor (also warning for side Shallura) Summary: Wine Aunt: Oh shit Hunkin’ Donuts: Great googly moogly Space Dad™: Well that’s enough for today Nigel Cornberry: I leave for 20 minutes and this is what I come back to? Nigel Cornberry: Can you kids relax for just one minute? Words: 23,976 Chapters: 9/?

Lonely Will Wait by: ciuucalata (also warning for background Shallura) Summary: “I should get rid of these fucking stars,” he mumbles getting out of bed. Like usually he opens his window blinds, letting in the warm summer wind and the light that steals the stars’ glow. He put them up twelve- maybe thirteen years ago, when he first started to have the dreams(memories?) and when they still reminded him of a time when he was a hero together with a group of strangers that felt like family. They make falling asleep easier at night, just like they did back then, but the panic and the helplessness that he feels every morning are no longer worth it. (or the one with the reincarnation where Lance is the only one who remembers but doesn’t let it get in the way of him finally having a normal life with his old family) Words: 25,527 Chapters: 5/?

True Love or Something (series) by: DeerstalkerDeathFrisbee ♡ ♡ (also warning for side Shallura) Words: 173,324 Works: 33 Complete: No

The Volton Chat Fic No One Asked For by: fleep (also warning for side Shallura) Summary: dont hunk with my heart: did u really photoshop ur face over a man in a chicken costume running from the police keith is fine: thats pidge hunk pidge is the police dont hunk with my heart: howd u make that so fast lancemememachine: ive had this saved up for an occasion like this Nobody asked for this Words: 19,281 Chapters: 16/?

legendary meme defenders by: Kitsune300 Summary: getting bi: gbfyhed guys Im dead getting bi: you might as well plan my funeral space dad: hello dead, I’m dad getting bi: SHRIO STFU smol and ready to brawl: lance that is no way to speak to your father Words: 34,441 Chapters: 25/?

Power-kick by: Johnny_kun ♡ ♡ (also warning for side Shallura) Summary: “I am so sorry, you just fell so hard for me and I feel bad about it now.” Lance had to admit that his pick-up lines were getting better.

“Did you kick the ball?! Purposely at me?” The black haired man asked, voice laced with annoyance as he got up, ignoring Lance’s offered hand for help.

“It was an accident, really. I was showing my children how to do a power-kick.” Lance’s flirty smile didn’t change the unimpressed expression on the stranger’s face.

“You should show them how to apologize now.” Words: 59,966 Chapters: 23/?

Spaghettification and Other Extreme Sports by: SociopathicAngel Summary: During their final battle with Zarkon and the Galra Empire, Zarkon creates a black hole capable of destroying the universe. Lance sacrifices himself and Blue in order to stop it… and ends up in an alternate universe where everything is just a bit not right Words: 17,978 Chapters: 4/4

The Quiet by: MilkTeaMiku Summary: Does he not realise he’s dead?

Keith can see ghosts. As a part of his Garrison training, he’s sent to a hospital to do one year of medical clerkship - it’s there that he meets a charmingly irritating ghost who definitely needs to learn what boundaries are. Words: 50,000 Chapters: 25/?

Foreign Scenes by: bwyn ♡ Summary: Lance has been dreaming of travelling since the first time he heard stories from his family as a child. Now, having finally the time and money to do it, he goes on a trip to Europe to see some of the most culturally rich cities on the continent. Except he keeps bumping into the same guy over and over again, in random cities, doing stupid shit, and ultimately dragging Lance into his trouble, too.

Basically an AU in which Lance and Keith become impromptu travel buddies and get into trouble. Words: 110,580 Chapters: 13/13

If Fireflies Cast Shadows by: Sasaina_Ai Summary: You’d think finding your soulmate would be difficult, since there’s only one of them and over seven trillion people in the world. Thankfully, God decided to take pity on his creations, and gave each person the very first words their soulmate would say to them. It was always in their personalized handwriting and the color that best describe them, decorating the wrist of your dominant hand. And, if you touch it after you meet them, you can send them your emotions, even thoughts if your connection is strong enough.

And that’s all fine and dandy - except it isn’t.

Because Lance McClain, the fun-loving guy with groan-inducing puns and pick-up lines that never work, who’s six-foot one with a good attitude and a hundred friends, has the words “Don’t fucking touch me, asshole” scribbled in messy red letters on his left wrist. Words: 50,200 Chapters: 3/3

Botched Ink by: Syremia (also warning for side Shallura) Summary: “Your soulmate is that who shares the same symbol on their skin as yours.” Was all Lance had been teached since a young age. He was the only one in his large group of friends to not have a symbol of his own. Just as he thought he was gonna live alone until he met Keith in a bar. The problem was that Keith already had a symbol of his own. (Warning: Various mentions of heavy drinking ahead) Words: 33,806 Chapters: 8/?

Kiss My Ice by: delictor (also warning for side Shallura) Summary: Lance hasn’t skated in a year since the accident that cost him the Olympics. Keith can’t skate for shit but that doesn’t stop him from catching Lance’s attention, even when he can’t so much as stand up after falling on the ice. ‘When a person really desires something, all the universe conspires to help that person to realize his dream.’“Soon as we’re off this ice you’re dead.” Keith’s threat is an empty one and he knows Lance can tell by the way he laughs at it. “Serious question though, do you not know who I am?” Lance questions. “Should I?” “No, I guess not.” Lance shrugs. “I’m gonna twirl you, okay?” “No, no don't—wait!” Keith cries out as he’s suddenly viewing the entire arena and his legs go rigid before colliding into Lance’s chest, his chest rising and falling with laughter, hands gripping Keith’s upper arms gently. “Put me back on land.” “Technically, we are on land.” “We’re on frozen water, get me off it.” Words: 40,250 Chapters: 6/10

Entangled by: mackerelmademedoit Summary: When Keith found himself mentally linked to Lance of all people, he never thought that it would end in anything but irritation and misery on both sides. He certainly never imagined that it would be a useful asset in team Voltron’s fight against the Galra Empire. Now if he can just keep his feelings in check, they might actually have a chance at defeating Zarkon.

Needless to say, when he’d wished for a 'bonding moment’ with Lance, this wasn’t exactly what he’d had in mind.

(Eventual romance and mature content for later chapters). Words: 101,859 Chapters: 12/12

Crossroads by: manamune Summary: When Keith crashed his Lion into a Galra warship in order to stop it from destroying a solar system, and more importantly, his friends, he was fully prepared to die for it.What he didn’t prepare for was to wake up in an alternate universe where he and Lance were dating. Words: 106,833 Chapters: 25/25

Of booty shorts and Injuries by: Queerswimming Summary: Keith is sure that he’s having a heart attack. Or that he hurt his brain when he fell earlier. Because it’s simply not possible that the boy who’s sitting next to him is not a hallucination. How could someone so gorgeous just sit in an emergency room at night?“Keith and Lance unexpectantly meet at the emergency room in the middle of the night. Words: 23,862 Chapters: 4/4

Loving Him Was Red by: Resamille Summary: Loving him was red, just like the suit Lance now wears in Keith’s absence. Words: 4,135 Chapters: 1/1

Stowaway by: glubsauce (also warning for minor Shallura and Hunk/Shay) Summary: When Lance finds a handsome stranger hiding in the backseat of his Jeep on the way to Pidge’s birthday party, he can’t help but wonder what his story is. Luckily for him, after he drops him off at his destination, he quickly gets revisited.

Lance is a bi college student who lets Keith, a dfab genderfluid 21 year-old, stay at his apartment after Keith runs away from home. Words: 27,109 Chapters: 9/?

you never stood a chance by: kagshina Summary: lance to hunk ♡ >i’m gonna fukin die hunk oh mygod i sent >keith a work out selfie that i wan supposed to fcukin send to you and you know what it said >”BET YOU WANNA LICK THESE NIPS” >HUNK I WILL NEVE BE ABLE TO FCE HIM AGAIN I WANT TO DI E(Or, Keith is beautiful, Lance has a crush, and there’s lots of shirtless selfies) Words: 12,221 Chapters: 1/1

little numbers by: ashtxns (also warning for side Shallura) Summary: brolance: keith is officially CANCELLED Words: 18,441 Chapters: 22/?

Better than coffee by peralta Summary: When Lance tries to curb his coffee addiction by replacing it with boba, he can’t help but linger around a perpetually grumpy-looking employee who works at the nearby teahouse. Keith, despite all the Yelp reviews, turns out to be surprisingly kind. Lance starts coming every day—although he insists it’s only for the boba.

And to complain about the customer service, of course. Words: 21,314 Chapters: 4/4

nothing’s quite as sweet by dimpleforyourthoughts, thebrotherswinchester ♡ Summary: Keith is a barista who hates his job. Lance works at the cat shelter across the street. Words: 50,370 Chapters: 1/1

Infection by: Talinor Summary: "Citizens are advised to stay inside at all costs until the infection is under control,” Nyma’s voice was slightly stronger when she spoke up again. “And if you come across a possibly infected individual, do not- I repeat, do not- come into contact with them. This infection is reported to be highly contagious. If you see someone you believe is infected, stay away and report them immediately. Officers will come to take them to the nearest vacant hospital as soon as they can. Please try to remain calm, and lock your doors.” Words: 20,615 Chapters: 5/?

Six Feet Over by: freshia Summary: “And, right, of course. He hadn’t told Pidge—or Hunk, actually, who was sitting on the other side of the table from him—because somehow “I see dead people” just doesn’t quite have the same effect that it surely had before 1999. Go figure.”

Lance Sanchez sees ghosts. Lance Sanchez also tries his best to avoid ghosts, until he literally can’t, because his new apartment is inhabited by one very confused ghost named Keith. Words: 47,313 Chapters: 13/?

Sweet Tooth by: Huletty Summary: Lance took a breath and walked forward through the swinging door. He kept his mind focused on one task. Get those damn pastries. Don’t look at anything but the pastries, don’t touch anything but the pastries, don’t speak to anything but the pastries. Don’t even glance at the kid with the mullet, who was currently putting frosting on a new batch of cookies, pink tongue slightly sticking out of his mouth in concentration. 'What I would do to have that tongue on my- The pastries!’ Lance jerked his vision away and back to the cart full of stacked trays.

Otherwise known as the Bakery/Cafe/Pastry Shop AU this fandom needs but probably not the one it deserves. Words: 11,175 Chapters: 5/?

Team Voltron: a group chat by: Castielwinchestar (also warning for background Shallura) Summary: This is absolute trash with a kinda-sorta plot it’s so much fun and I’m basically writing my interpretation of the entire Voltron Team on crack so please read this I promise you won’t be disappointed <3 Words: 23,512 Chapters: 21/?

Skinny band nerd takes it up the ass from the beefcake football captain (series) *by: Lynn1998 Words: 50,727 Works: 7 Complete: No

To the Universe and Back with You by: manamune ♡ Summary: Lance and Keith were friends with benefits slash tentative boyfriends when the Galra empire fell. And just when their real relationship was starting to begin, Keith took off without a word, leaving Lance with a broken heart and a whole lot of resentment.

Fast forward seven years later and Lance is the only paladin living on Earth, with his cat Peaches for company. It’s not perfect, but he’s happy.

That is, until Shiro summons them to form Voltron again and Lance has to face his greatest fear: the past. Words:10,100 Chapters: 1/3

Nightmares by: Trashness ♡ Summary: Lance’s nightmares are getting out of control. It’s effecting his and the team’s performance, but he’s at a loss for how to fix this.

Apparently sleeping next to a warm body helps. Words: 14,864 Chapters: 1/1

At A Loss For Words by: Quiznakles Summary: A mission goes wrong and Lance (temporarily) loses his voice. The team starts to forget and Lance doesn’t have the heart to remind them

The weird Mute!Lance AU that no one asked for. Words: 4,282 Chapters: 3/?

True Affection Floats by: somethingaboutwriting (also warning for side Shallura) Summary: Under the sea, Lance dreams of living in the human world, disobeying his sister Allura’s rules left and right. On land, Keith is tired of his royal life in which nothing ever happens. That is, until his ship wrecks and he is rescued by a mysterious boy with white hair and bright blue eyes.

A fluffy little(ish) fic about two hopelessly oblivious boys falling in love in a Disney universe. What could go wrong? Words: 18,218 Chapters: 4/7

Keith the Cat by: Madame_Kiksters Summary: He would find him again. He wouldn't lose him like he lost Shiro. Words: 9,468 Chapters: 6/?

Gaining Social Competence by sweet_rabbit ♡ (also warning for side Shallura) Summary: “My name is Keith and you’re going to be my friend!”

The boy, Lance, looked up from his grass picking project with wide blue eyes and responded, “…Qué?”

‘Kay? Keith thought. Like… “okay?” He said okay?!

It was official: Keith had made a friend. His dad was going to be so proud.

Where Keith starts his criminal record early at age five and unintentionally kidnaps a kid who barely speaks English. It actually goes splendidly uphill after that. Words: 10,029 Chapters: 5/?

Say You Won't Let Go by Julietisntdead Summary: After being hospitalized for a serious accident, Lance comes home to his roommate, his cat, and a... strange ghost?

Keith just wants to chill as a ghost, but his world turns upside down when he meets Lance, the only person who's ever been able to see him.

Despite his own problems, Lance is dead set on helping him. It may be the death of Keith. For a second time. Words: 21,034 Chapters: 10/15

A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes by pidgeotto_gunderson Summary: When Lance is captured by the Galra, the rest of the crew finds him quickly - alive, but unconscious. The team tries everything they can think of to wake him up, but find that the only way to do it is to project another’s consciousness into Lance’s. Keith volunteers, and dives into Lance’s headspace, with only the instruction to bring Lance back with him. But when Keith finds himself getting sucked into the fantasy that Lance has built, he not only has to figure out how to drag Lance out of la la land, but he now has to hold on to the memory of another world - the real world - that is suddenly slipping through his fingers. Words: 50,010 Chapters: 2/2

Laughter Lines by maunder ♡ (also warning for side Shallura) Summary: Once a homeless teenager, Keith is now a young, successful businessman who owns the most popular new gym in the state. Lance is a surrogate, single dad to his young siblings, and is doing his best to make ends meet. Neither has the time or desire to fall in love. Doesn’t stop it from happening, unfortunately.

“Surprisingly, no one wants to go out with the 23 year old dude with three kids under four and no time or money to treat them to fancy dates.”

“I do.” Words: 46,432 Chapters: 11/15

Bruises Like Blankets to Keep Us Warm (series) by: PrincexofxFlowers ♡ (also warning for side Shallura) Words: 29,854 Works: 2 Complete: No

A Commutual Contract by SKayLanphear ♡ Summary: After a terrifying experience during which Lance, seemingly, dies, Keith is haunted by horrible nightmares of holding his comrade in his arms while he took his final breath. To the point where he can't sleep unless he knows for absolute certain that Lance is alive.

And while the attention is surprising, Lance doesn't really have a problem with Keith checking up on him. Or the fact that Keith only seems totally comforted when he can cuddle Lance close and hear his heart beat. After all, there's nothing wrong with two bros cuddling. It doesn't MEAN anything. Or, at least, that's what Lance keeps telling himself. Words: 84,148 Chapters: 13/?

Love Bite(s) by ArchetypeOfAdespota Summary: In which Keith gets bitten by a Love Bug, and Lance is less okay with this than anyone honestly expected. Words: 8,906 Chapters: 4/?

in your shoes by lydiamartin ♡ Summary: Hollywood did not prepare him for waking up in the body of a complete stranger.

Keith tried not to stare at this person’s junk in the full-body mirror. He did not know them, and no matter what Pidge might say, just because he’s Texan it doesn’t mean he was raised in a fucking barn like a savage. He would not act like a savage.

(Or, the one where Keith and Lance live in different cities but swap bodies – and angry love notes – multiple times a week.) Words: 42,320 Chapters: 10/?

Smokey the Bear Has Nothing On You by psychicScavenger Summary: Keith Kogane is on the Altea Fire Department and while volunteering for Altea Elementary's Safety day, he runs into his high school rival/crush Lance McClain. Words: 50,804 Chapters: 16/16

Runner-Up by CalicoThunder Summary: It's been one month since the defeat of Zarkon.

The five Lions have convened and chosen Lance as the new Black Paladin- but this decision causes rifts and wrinkles in the delicate emotional atmosphere of Team Voltron after Shiro's disappearance. With Universe in war-torn despair, Voltron is needed now more than ever- and the team will have to adjust to the new mode and (re)learn to work together.

And all the while, they're searching for Shiro: Where is he? How can they find him? Will they like what they find? Words: 26,008 Chapters: 4/?

The Canvas Effect by neadevar Summary: “For god’s sake, Lance, will you please stop drawing cocks on your arm.” “Hey, no, we have a thing, me and dick face. I draw them a penis every morning and evening on the dot.” ------- Lance Mcclain is desperate to find his niche in the world, thought he might have when he discovered he had a soulmate. Only his soulmate seems to be a dick. Drowning under student loans and the crushing weight that is adult responsibility Lance tries to figure out where he stands in the grand scheme of the universe. He didn't realize everything would change with just a bellybutton piercing.

AU where when you draw on your skin it shows up on your soulmate. Words: 23,514 Chapters: 6/?

Ghost of the Future by wittyy_name, Zizzani ♡ ♡ ♡ (also warning for side Shallura) Summary: When Lance is thrown through time, his future self from one year ahead is transported to the past in his place.

This Lance is faster, stronger, and markedly more mature. Not only that, but he's distinctly more intuitive about his teammates and A LOT more touchy with Keith.

The team must try and work out how to reverse the two Lance's places and restore them to their original timelines. Things only get more complicated when the Future Lance can't seem to remember where he was when the switch happened, and he refuses to reveal anything about his own time for fear of influencing the team's decisions.

Mirror fic to "Shadow of the Past" by wittyy_name

Words: 38,932 Chapters: 4/?

Shadow of the Past by wittyy_name, Zizzani ♡ ♡ ♡ Summary: When Lance is thrown through time, he finds himself one year in the future, in place of the Lance that should be here.

He finds his team to be remarkably familiar, yet distinctly different. They have more scars, a better grip on the whole saving the universe thing, and over a year’s worth of teamwork to bind them together. But the weirdest part? Keith seems to be a lot more touchy with him. Not that he’s complaining… much.

The team must try and work out how to reverse the two Lance’s places and restore them to their original timelines. But despite the fact that they’re still his friends, Lance can’t help but feel a little out of place among a team that’s been through so much with a Lance that just isn’t him. And it doesn’t help that the team is on edge around him, refusing to tell him anything for fear of influencing and changing the past. Things get even more complicated when they have to rely on the team in the past to complete the switch, leaving Lance to little more than sit, wait, and attempt to fill in his future self’s shoes.

___________

Mirror fic to "Ghost of the Future" by Zizzani Words: 43,402 Chapters: 4/?

Non-specific pairings:

familiar by achieving elysium (Ogygia) ♡ Summary: Altean!Lance AU. The only one who remembers the fall of Altea, Lance struggles to find a place in a band of misfits he will never fully trust. Secrets aren't the only thing on the rise; on the other side of the battlefield is Zarkon, someone Lance once saw as a brother and now his greatest enemy. But Voltron has always protected the universe, and the Blue Paladin won't stop now. Words: 93,596 Chapters: 28/29

mostly void, partially stars by dakhtar ♡ Summary: “Werewolves can’t be astronauts,” Derek’s annoying voice had grumped. “Werewolves can’t be pilots. Werewolves can’t be fighter jet pilots, Lance, for God’s sake, Werewolves can’t pilot giant space robot cats that join together to become a giant space robot man and fight an evil purple bat-cat empire!”

Well, he hadn’t said that last part, but Derek totally would’ve. (Alt title: seawolf) Words: 17,349 Chapters: 3/?

Shallura:

Just A Classic PTA Romance by dinolaur ♡ Summary: Shiro and Allura's lives are turned a bit upside down when they receive calls that their sons have been sent to the principal's office for fighting at recess. Words: 25,582 Chapters: 4/?

#fic recs #voltron #klance #voltron legendary defender #vld

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