#I could just add a spoiler warning but speaking from experience that doesn’t always help

[vislove-vislife]

Someone should teach me how to make people press the read more button on my posts so I can post about MASHLE without spoiling everything for everyone

[clairecrive]

can u make a nikolai x reader based on the song mr perfectly fine by taylor swift?

Mr Perfectly fine

A/n: Ahh, thank to you friend, I've been jamming to this song every day lmao Hope I've done it justice x Also, I've left out some parts of the lyrics to make it better fit the story.

(if you want, you can add yourself to my taglist here)

for my other masterlists, you can find them on my navigation page

Word count: more than 7K (ikik it took a life of his own, what can I say)

Warnings: bit of fluff, angst (like a lot), character's death, spoiler if you haven't read Siege and Storm

Tagging: @jupiterandbutterflies (Thank you so much for your comment! I saw it and it made my day✨)

(I don't remember where I took this from so if you know pls lmk)

Most people knew of Nikolai Lanstov. He was a prince, the second born and the most charming. Most people knew him thanks to the countless rumours that went around at court: supposedly he was not of royal blood. "Sobachka" was what they called him.

No matter how though, everyone knew of the last Lanstov prince. But very little knew him.

Meeting him wasn't difficult. Since he had been of age, Nikolai had always been out of the Grand Palace and among people. He’d also volunteered to enlist in the first army, refusing any kind of special treatment and fought beside his brothers in arms in the infantry. That was part of the reason why everyone outside the court loved him so much.

Being Grisha meant that fighting in the Second Army was mandatory. Not that you minded. There was nothing you wanted more for your people than to finally be free. Also, that Shadow Fold needed to go and as the Darkling has always said, all efforts are necessary.

That’s how you met Nikolai the first time. Generally, the First and the Second Army were stationed in different parts of the campsite. Numerous quarrels between oprichniki and Grisha had rendered the separation necessary. However, you never liked crowds much and living in the Little Palace meant that you were always surrounded by people. So, every chance you had to draw away and be by yourself for a while, you took it. Also, being a Healer meant that you’d spent more time in your assigned tent taking care of soldiers than among them.

Word had gone around that everyone in need could come to you. Usually, you had been instructed by the Darkling that your powers were reserved for Grisha. However, what good was it to have the ability to cure people and only take care of a selected few that very rarely got seriously injured? Meanwhile, soldiers of the First Army often suffered from severe injuries, fatal gunshots or knife wounds. You could help them and possibly save their lives so why shouldn’t you?

That was why Nikolai found you one night. Sure at that point it was just another nameless soldier to you. He had never been in your tent before so you had never seen his face before. The boy whose arm he had draped on his shoulders though, was a usual visitor of yours.

“Oh, Petyr, what happened this time?” gesturing to his blond friend to lay him down on the table, you started gathering everything you needed. Not that you needed much but you had found out that Petyr was absolutely incapable of bearing having his bones or injuries in general repaired without having some kind of pain reliever before.

After a few tries, you came up with a herbal composition that dulled the pain but didn’t make him unconscious. Using kvas would mean that Petyr would be knocked out for a couple of hours. That would put him in trouble with his superiors.

“He’s a fool, that’s what happened.” The explanation came from his friend after he put him down gently. Despite his words, you could hear in his tone worry and guilt?

“If saving your life makes me a fool then go ahead and call me one,” Petyr huffed in pain.

“Who knew you were so brave, uh?” After quickly shredding the herbs you needed, you poured hot water on it and brought the cup to Petyr’s lips while helping him keep his head up.

“He’s the bravest of us all,”

“If I knew it took a bullet wound to make you hand out compliments so easily, I would have done it sooner.” Scoffed Petyr after sending you a thankful look.

“See? What did I tell you? A fool,” his friend said dramatically and you smiled amused at their playful banter.

“Let’s see what we’re dealing with, shall we?” You said out loud to warn both Petyr and his friend. Letting them know what was about to happen was best, your experience taught you. Both for the person on the table that could brace themselves for what was about to happen and for the person with him that was filled with worry and cautiousness. Oprichniki didn’t trust Grisha that much.

After assessing the damage, you let out a relieved sigh as the bullet had gotten through and it had not hit any major artery. It had already got infected though, so you knew it would be a painful one to treat.

“So, did you receive any letters lately, Pety?” You ask, suggestively wiggling your eyebrows while your hands cover the wound. You had your eyes closed to better focus but you were sure that he had rolled his eyes.

“Only from my mum.”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t write her back,” you said, opening your eye just in time to send him a glare.

“Ugh, not this again, y/n, please. Have mercy on me, I’m bleeding all over the table.” Petyr moaned making his friend snicker.

“You’re not bleeding all over the table and if you didn’t notice, I’m already taking care of you, am I not? That doesn’t excuse you for being an idiot, though.”

“Are you two in cahoots or something? It’s not fair. Wounded man over here.”

“Oh shut up.” Both you and his blond friend said at the same time. Petyr moaned once again and you sent a little amused smile to the blondie.

“Should I leave you with a cool battle scar? Maybe acting like a war hero will give you the balls to write to her.” You harmlessly threatened him but your hands were already reconnecting the tissue of his skin without letting it scar.

“I’ve told you, y/n. She deserves better than what I can give her. I am, who knows if I even make it home? I’d be only stringing her along.” Now Petyr was dead serious. It was true, you had talked about this often since he was a regular you got to know him better and he had soon told you about his sweet Katia.

While his friend chanted ��fool” like a mantra in the background, you took his bloodied hand in yours, his wound fully healed.

“Petyr, how do you think she’s gonna react when she learns that there hasn’t been any delay to her letters but you’re just ignoring her? Besides, you should let her make this decision too. Who knows, she’ll surprise you.” Squeezing his hand you turned to let your words settle and to put away your utensils. You knew you had given him so much food for thought so you didn’t address the subject anymore. His friend helped him off the table and that’s when you noticed that he was injured too. He had a pretty nasty cut on his lower lip and there was already a bruise forming on his temple.

“Petyr, you can sit on my chair while I take care of your friend. You should be fine but for at least a while don’t stress your body.”

Mentally making a list of the things you need to tend to this kind of wound and where you kept them, you started collecting before heading back to them.

Petyr had sat down but his friend was still standing.

“You don’t have to lie down if you don’t want to, but unless you don’t want me to go take a ladder or something, it would be best if you sat on the table.” You gave him your best reassuring smile as you mixed the healing paste. Sometimes, men didn’t like to put themselves in a vulnerable position with someone they didn’t know and had learned to fear. He wasn’t that badly hurt and it would only take a couple of seconds to fix but not every oprichniki was comfortable with being healed by Grisha power. So the paste would do your job for you. It would take longer, sure and it would also sting a lot more but at least he’d be healed at last.

After looking at you for a little while, the blond man did as you instructed, giving you a dazzling smile in return when you settled between his legs to fix his cut.

“The name is Nikolai or handsome if you prefer.” It was not the first time a wounded soldier tried to flirt with you. IT didn’t bother you, you found them amusing more than anything and you knew it was the allure of someone taking care of them speaking more than any real interest.

“Let’s hope you won’t be around here much for me to learn your name.”

“I’ll have to find another way to make myself unforgettable then.” He winked at you before hopping off the table.

You didn’t address his words, only gave them the paste you had prepared. It would prevent any wound from being infected and would be able to cure small cuts and bruises if applied for a couple of days. With that, you sent them both on their way. Petyr waving you goodbye while Nikolai sent you another wink.

And so this was how it all started.

Mr. "Perfect face"

Mr. "Here to stay"

Mr. "Looked me in the eye and told me you would never go away"

Everything was right

Despite your fellow Grisha, military life could be a bit alienating. Which sounded like a paradox, sure, but everyone had their own way of processing trauma and emotions and of course there were plenty of those during the war. If the best way to come to terms with everything that happened was to distance yourself from others and try to find the solution in solitude, it could get to the point where you’d feel alone in a room full of people.

To get a little respite, you’d usually go on a long walk or resort to stargaze. Sometimes, depending on where you were posted, it wasn’t safe to leave the campsite. So, that’s how Nikolai found you one night. Even he had to take a breather once in a while. Being a different version of yourself based on who you’re interlocutor was must be exhausting. Of course, you didn’t know this. You knew nothing about Nikolai at that point if not that he was Petyr’s friend and a socialite, according to other soldiers.

He seemed to be at the centre of gossip no matter what group of people you found yourself with and there also seemed to be a consensus about him. Everyone liked him. Even if it was rare for some Grisha to appreciate oprichniki, you knew they somewhat respected him because if they didn’t praise him out loud, they didn’t speak ill of him either.

“Not a fan of crowds, are you?” he announced his presence before sitting down beside you.

“I love them, I really do. It’s just that sometimes it gets too much.”

“Yeah, I know how you feel.”

“You do? Everyone seems to think you’re a socialite.”

“It’s what I want them to think but alas, I enjoy being more complex and multifaceted than that.” He lightly bumped your shoulder with his, eyes aflame with mischief.

“I bet.” you simply smirked. Despite how everyone seemed to think they knew him, you got the peculiar vibe from him, like there was a lot more to him than what he let everyone see.

“No one seems to know much about you.”

“Maybe you’ve talked to the wrong people.”

“Well, then I guess it’s better if I got straight to the source, don’t you think?”

“That will surely be a better start. Not sure you’ll find what you’re looking for though.”

“We’ll see.”

That night had been the first of many. It had become a sort of an unspoken arrangement between the two of you. While it didn’t last long, you sensed that you got to know him better than everyone. There was something about late nights meetings under the stars that prompted deep and meaningful conversations. It wasn’t hard to form a solid bond with him after a few nights.

The conversations weren’t always personal in the conventional sense. You’d often stray and talk about the most bizarre things. Like why something had the name it had or how cool it’d be if it was possible to pass through surfaces, which led to imagine all the uncomfortable situations one could find themselves in if they were to simply go into a room through its wall.

Nikolai was witty, overly confident and ambitious and he knew a lot of things. You always wondered how he had learned them since he was so young and been in the army for a couple of years already. But Nikolai was never too forward on certain topics, his family and childhood being some of those. You understood, those were sore subjects for you too. So you never insisted. It was much more interesting to listen to him rumble about impossible future projects of his, like a flying ship.

"When people say impossible, they usually mean improbable." He’d say whenever you’d point it out to him. Somehow, despite the absolute absurdity of them, the sheer confidence that he seemed to constantly exude, made you consider the possibility of his success.

You got the distinct feeling that there was nothing this man couldn’t do.

But that was when I got to know Mr. "Change of heart"

Mr. "Leaves me all alone," I fall apart

It takes everything in me just to get up each day

But it's wonderful to see that you're okay

But, alas, as all things do, these encounters of yours also got to an end. You knew it would happen, you were both soldiers so your lives were both heavily characterised by uncertainty after all. However, you were not prepared for it to end so abruptly though. And without an apparent reason. Because Nikolai’s unit hadn’t been posted elsewhere and he hadn’t been fatally wounded. You would have heard of it were that the case. But it wasn’t.

You thought that he had come to cherish your nightly encounters too. Some of those had been full of his promises. How he’d love for you to be around when he’d eventually find the time to work on his ideas. How you had been a nice surprise, a most interesting person among so many dull idiots you were surrounded by every day. How he’d come to value your opinions and presence in his life and that he was going to find a way to make sure that that would never change. Promises that turned to be empty.

You had never allowed yourself to fully believe him. It wasn’t the first time that a boy had made the same kind of promises but Nikolai looked sincere. Honest enough to be believable. But, of course, you had been wrong.

You didn’t realise just how much you had come to rely on him until he was gone. You tried to keep your mind off him and luckily the perfect distraction came your way. The Darkling had scheduled an attack on the enemy’s army and had posted you to be on the field to take care of everyone promptly. You had never been more grateful to the man, even after he had given her a home and a purpose.

Ever since your first encounter with Nikolai, you had thought it had been a blessing. However, you had soon changed your mind and now considered a curse more than anything. Why? Because as soon as you got to the field you couldn’t help but scour the troops for a familiar mop of blond hair. Many looked like him and being this far you couldn’t be sure that he wasn’t one of them but you certainly despised the leap your heart made every time though. That was a distraction you couldn’t afford. Besides, it wasn’t smart to let your heart get involved in times of war.

The battle began, Inferni and Squallers were working together to impair the enemy’s visual so they couldn’t shoot or use their cannons while the First Army marched after them to swap in as soon as the air cleared to catch the enemy by surprise. While your role wasn’t active per se, you were a Corporalki after all, and even if you had been specifically trained as Healer, you had also got one of your friends to teach you the basics of an Heartrender’s work. You weren’t a powerful one but you could hold your ground in a fight. Especially since they weren’t expecting you. And you were still far from any real threat.

The battle dragged on and soon there were wounded soldiers that needed your attention. You hated this kind of work, it was messy and dirty and had to be quick because spending too much time on one soldier could mean dooming another to death. You were accustomed to it by now and soon found a rhythm focusing on ensuring everyone’s survival and not bothering with the aesthetic side of healing. That could be taken care of later if they wanted to.

As soon as your eyes fell onto a crouched figure you sprinted towards them. It was dirty and you didn’t recognize them but you got the feeling it was a life or death situation. Oh, how you wanted to be wrong.

The person crouching turned out to be Nikolai and he wasn’t alone. He was kneeling beside someone, Petyr.

“Where are you hurt?” you hurriedly asked as you tried to assess the damage. His uniform was dirty and full of blood but you couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. Trying to answer you, Petyr opened his mouth only to let out the most gruesome gurgling sound as his respiratory tract was flooded by blood.

“He got shot in the gut.” Nikolai offered.

“Is the bullet still inside?” Opening his uniform jacket you tore a piece from his shirt to use it to put pressure on the wound.

“It’s too late,” Nikolai uttered.

“No.” You strongly refused as you removed the cloth and focused on the wound. His heart was straightening and he had already lost a lot of blood. If the bullet was still inside that it was going to be a problem, if it wasn’t then you still had a fighting chance.

“I removed it earlier.” So that was why he had lost so much blood. Nodding your head to show that you had heard him, you set out to stop the internal bleeding. Slowing his heartbeat so that it was pumping less blood and thus eased your endeavour. You were still in the middle of the field and while you were keeping up with the warfare but in the back of your mind, you registered the sounds of screaming and of gunshots getting closer. A bullet hit you in the shoulder propelling you forward over Petyr’s body. Grisha’s kefta were bulletproof so you weren’t worried for your incolumity but for the harsh movement you had made.

Leaning back, you heard Nikolai calling for you but your eyes were trained on Petyr. You tried to listen for his heartbeat but could only hear two instead of three. Nikolai, who had never left your side, immediately understood what had happened by the fall of your shoulders and the tensing of your hands.

He kept calling for you but the only thing you could focus on was that you had let your friend down. Now there will be one more family crying for a loss, another girl mourning a lost loved one. And it was all your fault. It was because of you that Petyr wouldn’t live to see another day, to write another letter or to fight another battle. It was on you.

The details of what happened next were a bit blurred. Someway you must have found your way back to the campsite. Whether you did on your own after tending to everyone else, you didn’t know. Your memories picked up after you woke up in your tent. Someone was calling your name, saying that the Darkling wanted to see you.

Mechanically you raised and made your way to the Darkling’s tent but your mind was elsewhere. Your thoughts were plagued by Petyr’s face, by that godforsaken sound he made when he tried to speak. The realisation that he was gone hit you like a wall of brick that would have made you stumble if you weren't’ sat in front of the Darkling’s desk. Whether he was speaking and stopped after seeing the forlorn look in your eyes or he hadn’t been speaking at all, you didn’t realize. You did hear him say that you were going to be posted somewhere. Under different circumstances you have said something, anything to not let him send you away. Your mind immediately went to Nikolai. You’d be leaving him behind along with the campsite.

However, you now realised that you had already lost him. Losing Petyr had been the last thing that had completely severed your bond. There was no turning back now and part of you was grateful.

Hello Mr. "Perfectly fine"

How's your heart after breaking mine?

I've been Miss "Misery" since your goodbye

And you're Mr. "Perfectly fine"

You couldn’t know, of course, but Nikolai had left not long after you did. Albeit for a different reason. He had finally earned the Major rank and as such, he took a step back from military life deciding that his skill would be better suited for a life on the sea. Assuring Ravka the supply she needed but in ways that weren’t exactly suitable for a prince but worked just fine for a privateer. And thus Sturmhond came to life.

As for you, you kept doing your job at your new post but were relieved when a letter came from the Darkling instructing that you were needed at the Little Palace. Part of you had relegated Nikolai to that part of your mind where the unmentionable was, however, a traitor thought whispered that maybe there was a chance that you could see him at the royal grounds. Sure, the possibilities were close to zero but it was still possible, right?

No.

You already were ashamed of the fact that you’re still suffering because of him. And yes, you missed him but you weren’t going to indulge the pathetic hope of seeing him again.

He doesn’t want to see you. If he did, he would have already found you. Or write you a letter if he couldn’t, but he didn’t.

You were right. You knew you were, nonetheless, the thought only brought you a bittersweet feeling.

You found the Little Palace just how you’d left it and yet it seemed changed in a way. The insane amount of work you found there waiting for you helped you drown the feeling that it was you that had changed.

Months passed this way, sometimes the Darkling would post you with him or outside the Little Palace. All in all, you’ve kept busy. When news of the little prince leaving the Palace reached you, you let it wash over you. It wasn’t like it mattered much, whether he was a few feet away or in another nation, Nikolai wasn’t part of your life either way.

When the whole expansion of the Fold happened, you were stationed at the Little Palace. Chaos and terror ensued as soon as the news reached the capital making most of the Grisha flee. Most of them went looking for the Darkling while others simply ran away and hid. You were amongst the first group.

Soon, your life was radically changed. The shift in the Darkling was palpable and it didn’t have anything to do with the scars on his face. You had tried your best to heal them and Genya to tailor them away but somehow, they could not be removed. It was an unsettling thing to realize that they didn’t take away his beauty. One could even say that they enhanced his attractiveness.

He was certainly more powerful. None of you knew what had happened in the Fold that day, just that the Sun Summoner had fled and that there were no survivors apart from him. However, as your journey in pursuit of Alina dragged on, you were soon witnesses of his newfound power.

The nichevo’ya, he called them.

He had always been immensely powerful. One of a kind. But this- this was different. And as dread settled among your group as you watched them in action, realisation sat heavily on your shoulders.

He soon found a trail and traced Alina in Novyi Zem and set out to reach the island by hiring Sturmhond’s crew. He was a famous pirate after all and despite his unreliability, the Darkling was sure that as long as he got his money, he wouldn't be a problem.

In the round trip, you didn’t see much of the captain anyway. Some members of his crew were amiable enough, particularly the Yul-Baatar twins. You had even asked Tamar to spar with you from time to time. Your lessons with Botnik were a distant memory and you knew that mastering combat training skills could increase your chance at survival.

When Alina and Mal were held captive though, that’s when Sturmhond made an appearance. He looked younger than you’d thought and there was something oddly familiar in the way he held himself. Still, you didn't talk with him much. Your job was to take care of Alina and so you spent most of your time in her room.

It wasn’t until the Darkling asked Mal to track Rusalye and consequently spent more time with Alina that you had a chance to talk with him. It was during one of your night shifts when he approached you, the Darkling had wanted some of his to always be patrolling the ship.

“What could possibly make a little thing like you be amidst this wretched company?”

“It’s all a matter of perspective, I guess.”

“The thrill of adventure?”

“There’s plenty of it everywhere you go if you’re Grisha, even if you just go on a stroll.”

“Is that why you follow him?”

“I owe everything to him.”

“I’m sure you realize your role in this.”

“Of course I do. I’m not some naive girl who has a crush on her general.”

“Ah, so who, pray tell, do you have a crush on then, beautiful lady?”

“You’re certainly noisy for a pirate.”

“Privateer,” he corrected you, “there’s not much to do around here is it?”

“Not if you have everyone taking care of it, no.”

“Amuse me.”

“It isn’t wise to let the heart get involved in times of war.” That was all you were willing to share. Yes, he was handsome. Yes, the twinkle in his eyes was oddly familiar but he was a stranger. A dangerous one.

“Those sound like words spoken from experience.”

“Maybe.”

“Well, I’d say it’s no fun to only think about war. Life is so much more.”

“Believe me, if I could, it’d be the last thing on my mind. But, alas, l don’t have the privilege to do so.”

You had already lost too much time speaking with him. If someone were to see you or tell the Darkling you’d be in trouble. And you had made it your goal to never put yourself on the path of the Darkling’s anger. So you excused yourself and went back to your rounds.

If only you had stayed and talked to him more maybe you would have understood what was about to happen. Maybe you would have had an enkindling of Sturmhond’s plans. Instead, you were taken by surprise, just like everyone in your group, when Rusalye was spot and a shot was fired. You had found yourself in the uncomfortable position of having to fight against people you had grown to like.

“I don’t want to hurt you, y/n,” Tamar warned you as you stood face to face on the sinking ship dock. Her trusted axes in her hands while your hands were raised ready to attack.

“I don’t want to hurt you either.”

“Then you don’t have to. Come with us.” Her proposition made you gasp.

“That would be treason,” you whispered hoping that the Darkling wasn’t around to hear you. A shiver ran through you as you thought of the punishment he’d give you for even thinking about leaving his side.

“Then you leave me no choice.” She said lowering her arms. Was that guilt you heard in her voice?

Before you could voice your question though, she shouted for her brother and not even a second later, you felt your body grow still. Your eyebrows faltered as you felt your heartbeat slow down.

They were Grisha.

They must have seen you realise because you heard Tamar apologize before everything went black.

Mr. "Never told me why"

He goes about his day

Forgets he ever even heard my name

Well, I thought you might be different than the rest, I guess you're all the same

You didn’t stay out for long though. As soon as Sturmhond’s crew had left the Darkling’s ship and had safely made it onto the Volkvolny, the privateer had asked for you to be awakened.

There wasn’t enough light for you to realize you were on another ship, what alerted you of your new situation were your hands. They had bound them behind your back. Immediately you started to struggle, hoping to wiggle out of the restraints. To no avail though. Huffing out in frustration, you settled for looking around you and see if there was something you could use. That’s when you noticed him.

“Release me- this instant, or else-”

“Or what? You’re a Healer. Not exactly a violent job, is it?” Sturmhond interrupted you, a smirk on his face since he had the upper hand.

“I don’t need my powers to kick you in the ass, do I?” He laughed but didn’t look remotely threatened. Rather amused, actually.

“Please, you have to let me go. He’ll kill me if-” Panic started to build as you realized that there was no way you could successfully escape.

“He won’t touch you.” A solemn glow took over his eyes. “He won’t ever hurt you again, you have my word.” He promised, looking subtly at your left shoulder. You winced as you realized that he must have seen your scars. The ones left by the Darkling’s niche’voya.

“How can I know if you’re trustworthy? You don’t exactly have a good score, you know?”

“You’re going to find out soon enough. Don’t worry.”

Of course, he didn’t bother offering further explanations. He’d left it at that. You weren’t a captive per se but he left your hands bound, only freeing them when you needed to eat or relieve yourself.

Fruitless were your efforts in making you tell more. He often ate with you and would check in at least twice a day but that was it.

It wasn’t until after you had landed after that forsaken vehicle of his had gotten you through the Fold that you understood. His coming out as Nikolai Lanstov, prince and second in line for the Ravkan throne, had shaken you all to your core. However, you doubted that it had sent a pang to the others’ hearts as it did with yours.

Nikolai Lantsov. The man you had been dreaming about, the one that had left you behind without any sort of explanations, the one you missed so dearly, had been by your side all this time.

You weren’t sure how you felt. It made sense now why his eyes looked familiar and his posture. You then connected that the vehicle you had used in the Fold had been one of the many projects he used to geek about with you. It tasted a lot like betrayal. Not because he had lied to you about his name but because he had tried to get close to you again and had managed to somehow break that growing bond again.

'Cause I hear he's got his arm 'round a brand-new girl

I've been pickin' up my heart, he's been pickin' up her

So dignified in your well-pressed suit

So strategized, all the eyes on you

Oh, he's so smug, Mr. "Always wins"

So far above me in every sense

So far above feeling anything

Even if his secret had been outed thus causing some shift in the dynamics between Nikolai and the two new members of his crew - you suspected Mal was closer to punching him every second that passed- not much had changed for you.

On the outside, you pretty much looked like a prisoner. Albeit a very clean one. You rode with them, hands still bound, scowl ever-present on your face.

Nikolai had not come to see you ever since that night after the Fold. And now it had been almost a week since you had started your journey back to the capital. Whether this was all part of his plan to make you look the part of the captive even more or he was just gutless, you didn't know. It was working either way though.

You liked to think that his reason was simply that he didn't care. He had far too much on his plate right now as it was. Going back to court after years of absence while also making claims to the throne and trying to sway the Sun Summoner your way. It was no easy feat. But hadn't he always liked to say that impossible often meant improbable? A lot of things had changed since that night but even so, you'd still pose your bet on him that he'd be able to achieve anything he set his mind to.

It wasn't exactly that thinking this way brought you actual comfort. Of course, not. But it was better than foolishly hoping for him to still care about you the way you did for him. After all, he had sent plenty of signals that pointed in the other direction.

But then why did he kidnap you? Why take you with him? You weren't that close to the Darkling to be of any use to Nikolai in that way. And, as a matter of fact, no one had come to interrogate you regarding his plans or whereabouts. Then why?

You still couldn't figure it out.

Some days your anger shifted more to frustration and you were ounces away from asking for him yourself. Almost as if he had heard you though, he gave you the final push.

It was the usual day, Nikolai and Alina were riding in the carriage, stopping in every village we passed to meet with the locals. However, this time, before climbing back into the carriage, they kissed.

You were too far to figure out who started it and the details. The gist of it was enough though.

You most certainly were a fool. Still thinking about a guy who didn't give two shits about you, who had kidnapped you putting you in a dangerous situation and you were still wondering whether he felt something for you or not? Pathetic.

You had to do something about your situation and quickly too. Officially, you were a traitor. You had fled and joined the Darkling, that wouldn't make you look good in front of the king. He was a lousy bastard anyway and will probably sentence you to death to set an example. You hadn't survived so much shit to end up at the end of a rope.

So, even though you had initially thought against it since you were so close to home, you decided to escape. You were already headed towards certain death so what was the worst that could happen?

Your hands were left unbound when you were in your tent. One less problem to solve. Closing your eyes, you focused on listening for any nearby heartbeats. You heard two, those of the guards posted outside your tent. Maybe you could find an excuse to call them inside, put them to sleep and then slip away.

That was not exactly what your powers were for but you were desperate. You had to at least try.

And so you did. You called them in and immediately set out to slow their heartbeats. You had almost succeeded in putting them under when someone else slipped in. The last person you wanted to see.

"Am I that bad of a host?"

You didn't meet his ruse though, you knew it would make you lose focus.

"I'm afraid I have to ask you to release my soldiers." As soon as he said it though, they fell unconscious at last. Your chest was heaving by now, using so much power in such a different way was costing you. But you couldn't back down now. It was one on one and you were Grisha and a woman scorned. He stood no chance.

"Move out of my way, your highness."

"I'm afraid I can't do that."

"You can or I can make you. Your choice." The venom in your voice was unmistakable and it took him by surprise. He gave you a curious look tilting his head to the side like he was seeing you for the first time over again.

"I didn't realize ruthlessness was one of your personality traits."

"You know nothing about me," you seethed. The tip of your fingers flexed, the tension in the room could be cut with a knife and you were already weary.

"It may have been a while y/n, but I like to think I know a good deal about you."

"And I would like to completely erase this last year but you don't hear me yap about how shitty it has been, do you?"

"You never did like opening up much."

"I'm well past the point of sentimentalism, Nikolai. It is coming far too late anyway. And whatever my feelings for you may be, I won't let you put my life on the line." Your posture straightened, stance ready for battle.

His eyes flashed, jaw clenched. His hands closed in fists and he almost looked hurt. But why would he?

"Is that what you think all of this is?" Nikolai always acted aloof. He was always composed and dignified. You had thought it was for his insane amount of self-confidence but now you understood it was for how he was raised. But you recognised the pout on his lips. It was the expression he’d always have whenever he tried to get something from getting to him. To prevent himself from showing emotions.

"You're holding me captive while you go around Ravka parading your latest conquest, flashing your return everywhere. I don't know why you're doing this but I don't care. I've stopped waiting around for you and I certainly won't let your father put me to death."

"You think I'd let him?"

"So you want to do this?" you threw your hands up in exasperation, "Fine. You really want to know what I think?"

"Be my guest."

"I think that the Nikolai I knew would have left out of the blue without so much as a letter. I think that the Nikolai I knew was ready to go to any length to achieve what he believed in. However, I thought that the Nikolai I knew cared about me and what we had but look at me now. So maybe, I know nothing at all."

"You certainly do seem to know a lot of things. But you’re not wrong."

"If this is the way you care about me," I gesture to my tent, "then I'm not sure I want this Nikolai to care for me."

“This,” he said, emulating your gesture, “is to keep you safe. This is my way to ensure that if the Darkling got news of your whereabouts, he’d be sure not to think you willingly left his side and betrayed him.”

“That’s because I didn’t!” You raised your voice in outrage. The nerve of this man.

“Spare me your indignation. I know you hate being at his beck and call, to do his dirty work and be constantly surrounded by warfare.”

“Do not presume to speak for me.” You snapped. You knew it was best to keep a cool head but his cockiness was getting on your nerves.

“Didn’t you? Hate it, I mean.”

“We’re at war, Nikolai. Being away or close to the Darkling won’t change that. At least with him, I was safe.”

“You can’t be that delusional to think that he was protecting you.” He scoffed at your words as if they were the most absurd thing he had ever heard.

“And you can’t be that delusional to think that bringing me back won’t result in your father killing me.” You fired back shifting on your feet. He winced as if you had physically hurt him.

“You have so little faith in me?” His voice was just above a whisper and you knew that your words had struck a chord.

“How can I have any, Nikolai?” your voice softened a bit. “One day you’re telling me how much you value my opinion, you promise me a future where I’d be the first to see your project come to life and then you left. You just left, Nikolai.” And when I was starting to make my peace with it that’s when you come back? Also, let’s not forget about my abduction and your flirting with Alina.”

“So yes, I don’t trust you.” You concluded, crossing your arms on your chest with finality. He just stared at you for the longest time. If someone would come in now, they’d think you were in the middle of a staring contest. Then he sighed and started talking.

“I had to go away. I had already pushed my parents’ limits when I said I wanted to be part of the infantry. So, one day I got a letter written by my father personally and I knew that my time was up. I had been Nikolai for too long, now I had to start being a Lantsov prince.” His eyes were on the ground now, shame making her way in his words.

“So that’s what I did,” he went as he started pacing,”I went to Kerch to study, just like my father wanted. I did what he asked, he couldn’t reproach me anything now. I could never stay too still though, a life of adventure was calling me and I could not ignore it. It was only then that I realized that I could do so much more than sitting in a class, to realistically help Ravka.”

“I couldn’t take you with me. You had such a larger role to play in the army and besides, there wasn’t much I could offer you. So yes, I left. I left thinking that I would find my way back to you eventually.” He had stopped by now, regret was swirling in his shining orbs as he looked at you.

“You could have told me.” You contestated, taken back by all the information he gave you. “I would have waited for you.” A whispered promise for something that would never be now.

“I was afraid, y/n. That’s not my best moment, I know and no number of apologies could ever make it right. But I was afraid of your answer. I knew I’d be asking for a lot and let’s be honest-” the desperation in his tone was evident now, he had unconsciously started to lean towards you but you knew what he was about to say.

“You weren’t sure if the future you were offering me would just end up with me being your mistress, am I right?” Your tone hardened but despite the insulting implication of what you said, you weren’t made at him.

“I’m a prince, y/n. We do not marry for love and this country cannot afford to disregard the advantages that a political union could bring.”

His honesty was as refreshing as it was unsettling. He was right. As soon as you had learned he was a prince, you realized just what kind of future you could have with him. But then he left and that problem did not exist anymore. Neither of you spoke, both of you were seizing the other. You had laid it all out, defences were down putting you both in a vulnerable position.

And someday maybe you'll miss me

“You should have talked to me, Nikolai. We could have figured it out together. If it came to being your mistress to stay with you, then that was my decision to make.” You said softly after a while. It pained for you to say this, you would have never thought that getting closure would hurt this much.

Tears streamed on both of your faces, in front of you had been laid what your future could have looked like. It was everything you had wanted, you could still do your job and have the man of your dreams. You were surprised to find that you wouldn’t mind sharing him with his supposed wife. You had been at court for enough time to know how most marriages went. If he assured you it was only a diplomatic affair but that his heart was yours, that would have been enough. Who knows, maybe she’ll get a lover too.

But now… now you didn’t know if you could ignore everything that happened. You did not trust him nor could you ignore how hurt you were by his lack of communication and thus of trust in you.

But by then, you'll be Mr. "Too late"

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Gavin’s S2 R&S - Fireworks into the Heart

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers from an R&S (烟花入心) which has not been released in EN! 🍒

Features S2 Gavin. References are made to S2 Ch 16

[ Chapter One ]

“Wang Xiao Cui, you’ve been employed by the STF’s Logistics Department. Report to the cafeteria at 8am tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir.”

I’ve been hired to work in the STF cafeteria. 

As a nutritionist with over thirty years of experience, joining the STF isn’t a problem for me.

My old companion isn’t able to understand why I’m not using my years of retirement to enjoy life. Without giving him a response, I simply smoothen the small creases on my STF uniform carefully.

As an ordinary person, the STF always had a mysterious and prestigious impression in my eyes. Agents who are able to work here are all heroes with indomitable spirits.

Being able to take care of their meals and enable them to get more nutrition every day to strengthen their bodies and better protect Loveland City gives me a sense of honour in protecting this city too.

Based on my experience, taking care of a group of young people is a piece of cake. However, I didn’t expect to make the mistake of underestimating this place.

-

Standing in front of the cafeteria’s bleak signboard at 7.30am, I witness several agents carrying Tianjin-style deep-friend dough sticks through the doors. Someone even carries several bags of fried beef buns. While walking, he speaks in a loud voice:

"I braved the risk of running laps to bring you guys fried buns again!”

“During training later, no one’s allowed to snatch that new gun from me.”

The other agents let out a “tsk”, taking the fried buns and chilli paste from him before dividing them amongst themselves.

Fresh out of the oven, hot steam rises from the buns in the cafeteria, and nobody bats an eye. The master who steamed the buns has already grown accustomed to this. They stand in groups of twos and threes, engaging in idle chatter.

Why doesn’t anyone in the STF like eating food from the cafeteria?

Unable to figure out an answer after much thought, I happen to spot a handsome lad dressed in a white uniform. His steps are steady, and he brings along a breeze when he walks. I immediately call out to him.

“Hey! Young lad, wait.”

The handsome lad stops in his footsteps, giving me a sweeping glance out of the corner of his eye.

“Do you need help with anything?”

“No no, I'm the new nutritionist in the cafeteria. I just wanted to ask you something. Why don’t the STF agents love to eat cafeteria food? From what I can see, the Nourishing Meal has meat and vegetables, and it’s pretty rich in nutrition.”

The handsome lad is silent for a moment before responding to my question.

“The healthy meals place too much focus on health, and they don’t taste any better than the small stalls outside.”

“Captain Gavin, the materials from yesterday’s case have been tidied up.”

“Mm, I’ll have a look at them.”

The handsome lad who was addressed as “Captain Gavin” sees that I have no further questions. Giving me a nod, he takes large strides towards the office.

With a frown, I take a bite out of a celery meat bun. Aside from the taste being slightly bland, I don’t find anything wrong with it. Furthermore, adding too much salt would reduce its nutritional value, so it’s a given that less salt would be added to it.

However, since this point was brought up, it means there’s room for improvement.

In order to prepare food that better suits the palate of STF, I spend a whole week lying low and observing the favourite eateries that the STF agents enjoy eating most, and try out all of their famous dishes.

Based on their palate, I meticulously prepare a modified version of trial dishes.

On the first day of introducing the trial dishes, I brim with enthusiasm while bringing out a “New Dishes to Try” signboard, thinking that this would raise the reputation of the STF’s cafeteria. However, even after half a day, the only things that enter are mosquitoes which I swat to death.

There’s a cold breeze at the entrance. I look at the clock hanging on the wall of the cafeteria - lunchtime is almost over.

Deciding not to wait any longer, I head outside, planning to grab a few people in to try the dishes.

The moment I step outside, my eyes brighten when I see that lad from before.

His footsteps are hurried, and he has a packet of instant noodles in his hand. He probably has to deal with some urgent matters, which is why he has to make do with that for lunch.

How is that good? An STF agent eating instant noodles? Where would I, a nutritionist, hide my pride? I hurriedly stop him.

“Young lad, there are new dishes in the cafeteria. Since you’re about to eat, why don’t you try the cafeteria? It’d be a quick meal.”

He pauses in his footsteps for a slight moment, his refusal ready. However, when he sees the menu behind me, he suddenly blinks, then looks up to give me a nod.

“I’ll have to trouble you then.”

With this, he walks into the cafeteria. I look at the menu. There’s only a simple line written on it - “Today’s Special: Chicken with Chilli”.

Does he like eating chicken with chilli?

[Note] To be precise, this dish is called 辣子鸡 (là zǐ jī). It’s a a stir-fried dish consisting of marinated then deep-fried pieces of chicken, dried Sichuan chilli peppers, spicy bean paste, Sichuan peppers, garlic, and ginger.

[ Chapter Two ]

The young man eats quickly and seriously. Ignoring the fact that that he’s eating at an unhealthy pace, I feel very relieved. When he walks over to return the tray, I ask him a question.

“You’re done, young lad? How’s the taste? Do you think there’s anything to improve on?”

The young man sets the tray down. After a moment of serious contemplation, he give his response.

“The taste isn’t bad. If you’re asking for suggestions, since it’s chicken with chilli, you could add a little more chilli.”

I record his suggestions in my notebook earnestly. At the same time, I’m secretly amazed at how members of the STF are truly talented individuals. I created this chicken with chilli dish based on the spice levels in Sichuan cuisine, but he still didn’t find it spicy enough.

Look like there’s much room for improvement in future dishes.

-

The next day, I continue with my plan to introduce trial dishes. However, most of the STF agents are already used to eating out. The ones who try the dishes are few and far between. Just as lunchtime is about to end, a familiar figure once again appears at the door of the cafeteria.

He’s the young man who ate the chicken with chilli yesterday.

He walks straight in, taking a tray and getting food. Although he doesn’t say anything, I feel very moved, and wonder if this kid dropped by specially to support the canteen’s business.

I inform him that red braised pork is being served today, accompanied with bitter gourd and scrambled eggs. He seems a little hesitant when he sees the bitter gourd. But in the end, he doesn’t say anything, finding a place to sit down and eat.

-

Over the next two weeks, it seems that as long as he isn’t out on missions or doing anything else, that young man would come to the cafeteria.

It appears that he’s a Captain or something. With his impetus, more and more people gradually eat in the cafeteria, and I have a better understanding of his reticent young man.

His name is Gavin, and he’s the Captain of the Special Ops Team. I heard that the Special Ops team is the hardest squad to get into within the STF. They are one of the very best in terms of resolved cases. Everyone in the team are the cream of the crop, much less the Captain.

I heard about how this Captain usually rushes to the most forefront when faced with any danger, which is why he receives much adoration from the team. Of course, the number of injuries and stack of silk banners in the storeroom are proportional to each other.

On the days when he isn’t around, there’s a high chance that he’s out on a mission, or having his injuries treated in the infirmary.

-

��Aunt Wang, give me the same chicken with chilli as Captain Gavin!”

A red-haired agent’s voice pulls me back to reality. He carries a tray, pointing at the chicken with chilli from across the glass. I give him a huge scoop of it. He carries the tray and sits at a row of tables close to the window. There are quite a number of people donning the same uniform, and Gavin is one of them.

“Captain Gavin, why have you fled from our braised beef noodles alliance? You’ve also stopped eating cup noodles with us when we work overtime.”

“Mm, this is something you’re unaware of. Our Captain Gavin has someone who cares for him.”

"Last time, that Miss Producer was filming something and gave us handmade biscuits. You were on leave so you didn’t know about this. Captain Gavin’s biscuits were several times more exquisite than ours. They were even heart-shaped.”

The agents wink at each other and chatter on incessantly. Gavin, the main topic of the conversation, continues eating calmly. When he finally feels slightly annoyed by the clamour, he puts down his chopsticks, glancing at the red-haired agent.

“Tang Chao, it seems that your stamina is getting better with your daily laps.”

“You’ll be my partner for the next mission.”

The red-haired agent immediately pulls a long face.

“Captain Gavin, it's not that I don’t want to be your partner. But based on my fighting skills, I’ll only be a burden to you.”

“I’ll continue shining as a support personnel, and be an emotionless lie detector for the Special Ops Team!”

Gavin ignores the red-haired officer whose name is Tang Chao. But when he lowers his head to drink the soup, I can see his slightly arched brows.

Over the past two weeks, I’ve always been seeing his composed and chilly side, and even thought that was his personality. It turns that he’s still a young man. It’s just that he hides that unrestrained aura that young people have, and doesn’t display it easily.

Perhaps that’s the fetter of being a Captain.

Looking at these young people, I suddenly feel as though I’ve found the reason why my trial dishes have not been successful.

It’s probably because I’ve never tried to truly understand this group of young people.

[ Chapter Three ]

I’m no longer stubborn when it comes to the dishes. Instead, I pay more attention to observing the dietary habits of this group of young people. Gradually, many more pages on the notebook which I use to record modified recipes are written on.

Everything goes smoothly. However, I notice that Gavin hasn’t visited the cafeteria for meals in a long while.

When the red-haired officer comes to collect his food, I scoop pork ribs and winter melon soup for him, and find myself asking him a question.

“Why hasn’t your Captain been coming down to eat in the cafeteria these days?”

He scratches his head, his tone less carefree as before.

“Captain Gavin’s injuries from this mission were a little more serious, so he’s still getting treated in the hospital.”

Before coming to the STF, the word “injuries” was associated with a sliced finger from cutting vegetables, or being scratched while playing with a cat. But after coming to the STF, I realised that there are many other ways people can get hurt.

The STF has doctors who understand Evolvers most in the whole of Loveland City. Logically speaking, even if it’s a fracture or external bleeding, patients can typically be discharged in a week.

That young man called Gavin hasn’t appeared in such a long time. Is he severely injured?

Even though we haven’t exchanged many words, I can’t help but worry about that young man.

He’s still so young. If anything were to happen to him, how worried would his family members be?

Perhaps due to the fact that he was the first agent willing to try food from the cafeteria, I find myself being more concerned about him, and wanting to know more about him. However, STF agents are disciplined and strict. When they’re eating in the cafeteria, they rarely mention Gavin. When he’s occasionally brought up, they say things that I’m unable to understand.

“She went to the hospital again today.”

“That’s fine. Her presence at the hospital is much more useful than a few of us going. At least Captain Gavin would smile a little when he sees her. When we’re there, we’re like stalks of grain, and can do nothing but watch helplessly.”

“The next time the ‘Snake’ bites, we can’t let Captain Gavin hold the fort again.”

In the fog of their conversation, I’m unable to understand anything. I’m getting old, and my ears aren’t as useful. I shake my head, turning around and heading back into the kitchen.

-

Just when I think Gavin’s injuries have rendered him unable to return to the team, he appears.

While I’m writing the lunch menu on the whiteboard, I spot Gavin and his squad mates walking in together. He has become much thinner, and looks very pale. Even so, his entire frame remains as solemn as always, a sense of sharpness emanating from him.

When I hand him braised beef noodles, he gives me a nod.

“Thanks.”

He picks up the chopsticks and eats the noodles. When he sees the slices of beef in the bowl, he’s slightly stunned. However, he returns to normal in an instant, continuing to eat as usual.

When they’re halfway through eating, the communication device at Gavin’s waist suddenly beeps. He presses the communication device, his expression changing when he hears the message.

“The ‘Snake’ has left the hole. Take action.”

With his command, everyone abandon their meal and hurriedly leave the cafeteria.

When Gavin passes by me, I can see traces of blood on the side of his sleeve.

It appears that he’s leaving for a mission before his wounds have completely healed.

The cafeteria lapses into silence. I tidy the table, looking at the beef noodles which only had a few bites taken out of it, and let out a heavy sigh.

I know how difficult it is to join the STF. People who join the STF are so incredible. But I still wish to know what kind of reasons would make such a young person charge forward and risk his life to the point where he can’t even have a proper meal.

[ Chapter Four ]

It’s very late at night, but the STF remains brightly lit.

Similar to the busy agents, I haven’t left either.

After this period of research and testing dishes, I discovered that the people here aren’t picky. They simply lack the time to sit down and eat slowly.

With this in mind, I restart the dish modifications.

The television in the cafeteria is currently showing the Loveland News. The host is reporting on something about “Evol Assassination Incidents”, and is criticising how the STF hasn’t been doing anything about them.

“Things here are turning upside down from how busy they are, and the infirmary is filled with people. And you claim that they aren’t doing anything? Reporters are so irresponsible these days.”

I shake my head, switching the television off. After calling a few colleagues over, we carry supper to the infirmary.

Due to the incident the news was reporting about, the STF has been in a mess recently. I heard that there aren’t enough beds in the infirmary for use.

My heart aches from how these kids are getting criticised even after getting injured. I’ve prepared sweet soup suitable for evening consumption, bringing them to the infirmary while they get treated.

While passing by the Captain’s office, I notice that the door isn’t closed, and I see someone standing inside.

It’s Gavin.

His side is facing the door, his hair is messy, and he’s leaning against the wall. One of his legs is lifted up, and he’s currently pursing his lips as he removes his combat gloves.

He appears to have lacked sleep for several days, and quiet fatigue emanates from his entire frame.

However, he doesn’t seem to have shown this side of him to anyone outside, demanding himself to only leave this version of himself to an empty office in the depths of night.

I knock on the door. The moment he hears this, he quickly straightens up, his sharp gaze sweeping over. When he sees that it’s me, his amber eyes are stunned, and he nods.

“Please come in.”

Walking in, I place a bowl of snow fungus soup on his table.

“Everyone has been working hard in the bureau lately. We decided to make some sweet soup for all of you to relieve the fatigue. Drink this soup while it’s hot. There’s Chinese wolf berry and longan in it, so it’s pretty nourishing.”

Gavin nods. Stray hairs stick messily against the sides of his eyes and brows. I’m guessing that since he’s a kid who usually puts up a strong front, he probably doesn’t like others seeing his sorry state. I hurriedly wave my hands to signal that I’m leaving.

Before I walk out of the door, Gavin suddenly asks me a question.

“Aunt Wang, is your cafeteria recipe modification going smoothly?”

I can hardly believe that he actually remembered such a trivial matter.

Just how many things does he concern himself with?

“Very smoothly. I’ve been looking into a new fast-food style beef noodles, and plan to introduce it to the bureau.”

“Fast-food beef noodles?”

“Mm. There used to be very few people in the cafeteria because I only paid attention to maintaining the nutritional value of dishes. But if people don’t even have the time to eat, how can I talk about nutrition?”

“Right now, I’m looking into preparing beef noodles that are both nutritious and can be eaten really quickly. Such noodles are more diverse in flavour, and the nutritional value is easy to maintain.”

After saying all of this, I follow up with a question.

“But I'm still considering whether to use bean sprouts or eggs as a substitute. Which do you prefer?”

Perhaps few people have asked him something as trivial as his dietary preferences. He gives this very serious thought before providing a careful answer.

“I’d prefer eggs.”

I nod, then find myself giving him my sincere and earnest wishes.

“No matter how busy work is, you need to have proper meals. Even though rice and vegetables seem simple, they are part of life.”

“Whenever you head forward so urgently, have you ever thought of whether you might be forcing yourself too much?”

When Gavin hears this, he’s taken back. I don’t continue. With a sigh, I turn around and leave.

[ Chapter Five ]

The new fast-food beef noodles introduced in the canteen received a huge welcome amongst the agents. It became the favourite supper of agents who worked overtime on cases. Given the positive responses, I also released different flavoured fast-food products. 

With this signature dish, the STF canteen finally became lively every day.

But the strange things is, I didn’t see Gavin for a very long time. I heard that he... temporarily relieved himself of his duties.

I have no idea what happened, but I trust that he had his reasons, and I silently hope that the kid can be safe.

Afterwards, a strange fog enveloped Loveland City. I was protected by STF agents, and later heard that Gavin was the one who retrieved the fog.

-

I’m just about to prepare dinner in the cafeteria when I hear the news that Gavin’s in the hospital. News related to the STF’s retrieval of the fog is being broadcasted, and Gavin’s powerful and resounding voice can be heard.

“This round of the Hunter Game is over.”

I lift my head to see that familiar figure on the television, determined and composed.

“Thank you all for protecting the dignity of this city.”

When he had meals in the cafeteria before, I often wondered how this taciturn young man could persevere on his own, shouldering high pressure that ordinary people find difficult, and also protect tens of thousands of ordinary people.

Right now, I understand.

It’s because he has a heart of justice that’s gentler and more unwavering than anyone else - 

And this heart has guided him onto a path destined to be rugged, where he will pursue justice with no second thoughts.

But I’m still a little puzzled. Doesn’t he find it lonely when walking down this path?

With the assistance of the red-haired agent, I carry chicken wonton soup to Gavin’s hospital ward.

The door is closed, and I can hear an indistinct voice of a girl drifting from the inside.

From across the glass, I see a girl sitting at the bedside, a pink bento box on the table.

The girl is resting a hand against her cheek while supervising Gavin as he eats the bento. Meanwhile, the young man sitting on the bed is eating it one mouthful at a time, earnestly and tenderly.

For some reason, I find myself grinning.

On this path filled with ups and downs, someone is willing to accompany him, wait for him, sit down together with him, and have a serious, proper meal with him.

I leave the hospital with the thermos box.

Being here for so many days, I’ve grown used to this place, grown used to the whistle at 6.30am in the morning, grown used to the agents finishing their meals within ten minutes and rushing off, and grown used to the lights in STF illuminating my path like starlight when I’m heading home at night.

My old companion often asks why an oldie like me continues going to the STF. 

It’s because I can see a broader world here. I can see souls with determined spirits. I’ve never felt more alive and fulfilled in my entire lifetime.

This is the meaning that STF gives me.

I hope that the young man called Gavin, as well as the countless young people who are like Gavin, will always lead a fulfilling life.

...and that they may always be safe.

May he, along with the girl he watches silently, return to life through every meal while embracing justice.

💙 More S2 content: here

💙 Support the cafe by dropping by the tip jar!

[renegadewangs]

Van Zieks - the Examination, part 9

Warnings: SPOILERS for The Great Ace Attorney: Chronicles. Additional warning for racist sentiments uttered by fictional characters (and screencaps to show these sentiments).

Disclaimer: (see Part 1 for the more detailed disclaimer.) - These posts are not meant to be taken as fact. Everything I’m outlining stems from my own views and experiences. If you believe that I’ve missed or misinterpreted something, please let me know so I can edit the post accordingly. -The purpose of these posts is an analysis, nothing more. Please do not come into these posts expecting me to either defend Barok van Zieks from haters, nor expecting me to encourage the hatred. - I’m using the Western release of The Great Ace Attorney Chronicles for these posts, but may refer to the original Japanese dialogue of Dai Gyakuten Saiban if needed to compare what’s said. This also means I’m using the localized names and localized romanization of the names to stay consistent. -It doesn’t matter one bit to me whether you like Barok van Zieks or dislike him. However, I will ask that everyone who comments refrains from attacking real, actual people.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

How the turnabouts have turned! It's time for Twisted Karma and His Last Bow!

Episode 2-4: Twisted Karma and His Last Bow

With Van Zieks's tragic backstory (…) exposed, it's time to head on into waters we've charted before, waaay back in the very first Ace Attorney game: The Prosecutor becomes the Defendant. It all starts off with some shenanigans which appear to have very little to do with Van Zieks (the arrival of Mikotoba and Jigoku, the Red-headed League, a missing prison warder, etc.).. Ryu does still run into Van Zieks very briefly in Stronghart's office, with Susato noting that there appears to be an awful lot of tension in the air. I expect Van Zieks is questioning that decision to leave Genshin Asogi's son in his care, but even so, he's very civil towards Stronghart. Susato also notes that Van Zieks gives Ryu a cold stare as he leaves, with Ryu wondering what he's done to earn that. This may also be a result of him being besties with Kazuma, since Van Zieks had already buried the hatchet towards Ryu for the most part. When Ryu asks about the decision to leave Kazuma in Van Zieks's care, Stronghart explains it was to best keep an eye on this 'mysterious amnesiac with no identifying papers'. Well OK then. Stronghart also explains he made Kazuma wear a mask because he didn't want to “burden Van Zieks with tiresome explanations about why he had an Eastern appearance.” … I would assume the very simple explanation is that it's because he's of Eastern descent, Stronghart. Regardless, the Lord Chief Justice has high hopes for Kazuma's future and isn't at all bothered by the fact that the guy has gone missing for a little bit.

Things take a turn later when Gina Lestrade comes barging into 221B with some pretty shocking news. Inspector Gregson was murdered. Yes, THAT Inspector Gregson. The suspect has already been arrested:

It's true that to the average civilian like Gina, Van Zieks's name is pretty much synonymous to the Reaper (of the Old Bailey). Even so, to have her outright calling him by that title adds a sort of emotional distance that's really striking. Gina explains they caught him at the scene and there were several witnesses, but Ryu thinks to himself that there's no way Van Zieks would have taken Gregson's life. So naturally, we owe it to our good pal Gregson (who actually was just coming around and being nicer to Ryu) to find the truth. Time to go have a talk with Van Zieks in prison!

… Okay that's funny. Don't worry, Barok, one day we'll all look back on this and laugh. Anyway, Van Zieks says he's in the last place on earth he'd want to be, with the last person on earth he'd want to see. And this line can easily be misinterpreted as Van Zieks saying he hates Ryu more than anyone else in the world, but what he's actually saying is that Ryu is the last person he wishes would see him in this troublesome situation. Ryu says he couldn't very well not come, but Van Zieks tells him to go home since it has nothing to do with him. Susato interjects, pointing out that Gregson has helped them out on numerous occasions and so, they're indebted to him. She pleads for Van Zieks's help with the investigation and he's silent for a moment, only to say: “There's really nothing I can tell you.” Which I suppose means he doesn't think he has anything helpful to say. Ryu asks about what Van Zieks was reading when they came in and assumes it to be a case report. Van Zieks says the Yard wouldn't share case details with a suspect (keep that one in mind) and explains it's a letter from Albert. Dear Professor Harebrayne has arrived in Germany safely! Ryu notes that Van Zieks usually never minces his words, but they seem to have less bite than usual now. No wonder, really, since he's in prison for the murder of an old friend. Van Zieks asks how much they already know about the case, so the two of them go through the facts and Van Zieks says they're well-informed. He's got nothing to add, because... Well.

Oh, this is going to be another one of those cases, huh. Susato asks what Van Zieks was doing at the crime scene in the first place, but Van Zieks points out he doesn't need to answer that, as they aren't representing him. When asked who is representing him in court, he says it'd be anyone other than Ryu. That said, he doesn't actually have any representation because of his reputation as the Reaper. Sixteen people he's prosecuted have mysteriously died and now that he's actually been apprehended for a murder, that whole Reaper ordeal is sure to be thoroughly examined.

BOY, have we got news for you! When it's pointed out that Van Zieks didn't actually have anything to do with those mysterious deaths (right???), he replies that no one wants to know the true identity of that killer more than he does, but it seems things may come to a head before he can uncover the truth. Van Zieks basically tells Ryu to leave, but being the kind-hearted gentleman that he is, Ryu offers to advocate for him in court. Van Zieks asks whether Ryu trusts him, which is a pretty fair question to ask. He's built up so many racist scumbag points and has such a bad reputation in town, it would be weird for Ryu to trust him unconditionally. Luckily, Ryu has been paying attention just as much as I have; he's heard Van Zieks speak in court and seen the way he treats people (uhh, English citizens, anyway), so he doesn't believe this 'Reaper' has it in him to take a life. Unfortunately, Ryu also has to acknowledge that feelings can't be used as evidence in court. Van Zieks considers the offer gracious, but...

“Not the police, not the judiciary... And not you Nipponese.”

One more scumbag point for putting “you Nipponese” in its own category for no reason. Either way, this man has built up such high defensive walls, you could see them from three galaxies away. Trusting no one is a pretty drastic way of living. Ryu thinks to himself that there's a chasm between the two of them that's 'just too wide and too deep'.

As a sidenote, presenting the attorney armband doesn't lead to any interesting conversation this time, but we can also present the Red-headed League advertisement! Van Zieks surmises that if it were a Black-headed League, Ryu would join without delay, which Ryu then confirms. Van Zieks says that sadly, his hair is neither black nor red. He goes into a most curious identity crisis of sorts, where he looks quite anguished as he wonders which coloured league he should join instead. There have been several debates over his hair color, actually, from lavender to purple to grey. Regardless, Susato points out that “people are troubled by the most unexpected problems at times.” It is unexpected, since Van Zieks needs neither the money nor the company that he would get from joining any such league. It's just the principle of the matter, I suppose.

Over by the crime scene in Fresno Street, Gina gets a little razzled when she suspects Ryu is thinking of defending “that Reaper bloke”. Susato points out that if “Lord van Zieks” really is responsible for the crime, he'll be judged fairly in court. This gets Gina to calm down again, because she really wants to know the truth of what happened and much like Van Zieks, she must know that getting the truth is what Ryu does best. A bit of conversation later, Gina points out one more interesting thing; Gregson apparently held a lot of respect for 'the Reaper'. “I take my hat off to that fella,” were his exact words, apparently. Ryu is skeptical, as am I, because I've seen the way Gregson talks about Van Zieks behind his back.

Gina explains that's exactly why he respected Van Zieks. That's... a little weird and ambiguous. So either he respected Van Zieks's ability to stand tall despite all the public scorn, or he respected the fear he struck into people's hearts. There's one more option; Gina keeps talking about the Reaper instead of Van Zieks, so it's possible that Gregson was talking about the actual Reaper. This seems unlikely, though, since he didn't seem to enjoy being part of the Reaper organization.

And now that we know Van Zieks is the defendant, one might be wondering: Who is the prosecutor? Who is the antagonistic force who will try to stop Ryu from uncovering the truth? Well, we find him over in Stronghart's office. Apparently he took an express train back to London from wherever it was he's been these past few days.

YOOOOUUUU!!! Though before we can address his presence properly, we need to discuss the new case. Stronghart wastes no time asking Ryu and Susato whether they've heard “the sickening news about the Reaper's latest devilry.” Which stands out, to say the least, since Stronghart has always been a strong supporter of Van Zieks up until this point. When Susato points out that surely he doesn't believe it, Stronghart says he believes only in facts, which all point to the unavoidable accusal of Lord van Zieks. Someone sure had a quick turnaround when it comes to his number one prosecutor, geez... Stronghart points out the irony that there's no salvation for anyone prosecuted by the Reaper of the Bailey, and now the Reaper himself must stand in the dock. Just as Van Zieks had already alluded to, Stronghart now claims the public will want answers about those mysterious deaths. Ryu and Susato both point out that which had been rubbed into our faces several times already; Van Zieks denies any involvement, and also there have been several investigations into whether he had anything to do with it. Stronghart kind of brushes this off, though. Turns out, Van Zieks is being traded in for a newer model number one prosecutor: Kazuma Asogi! Which seems weird at first glance, since Kazuma is a defense attorney, but Stronghart considers that a bonus:

“A devastation combination, wouldn't you agree?”

I do agree. Granted, it seems Van Zieks had already figured out the defense's strategies too, he just never actively used them to his own advantage. It also turns out that Kazuma personally requested the prosecutor position for this trial. Susato thinks it's pretty unprecedented to grant a newcomer exchange student such a request, but Stronghart offers some petty excuse about how this way, it won't look like the judiciary are closing ranks. Kazuma, who assumes his friend will take on the defense, says he'll see how Ryu's skills have been honed after practicing law in England for so many months. (Uhh. Actually, bestie, it was only about two months of being a defense attorney and six months of disbarment.) Ryu notes that Kazuma is being hostile towards him and wonders why. On a final note, when asking Stronghart about the gun found at the crime scene, we're told that it's issued to all members of law enforcement, including prosecutors. Van Zieks claims to have lost his. That's a troubling claim indeed, because it's difficult to prove or disprove. GOSH, if only fingerprints were allowed in court.

As Ryu and Susato turn to leave, Kazuma stops them. He once again states he wants Ryu to witness this trial as the defense counsel, to “see how it ends”. Since Kazuma has a very distinct vision for how he wants it to end, I guess this means he intends to confront Ryu with Van Zieks's guilt and have his bestie see that a man like him is unworthy of his trust. Either that, or he expects Ryu to use this trial to find the truth of what really happened with the Professor ten years ago, just as he used Albert's trial to dig into that incident. Still though, this reads as pretty scummy to me, because it means he wants Ryu to lose a trial and lose some of his belief in his clients. In the trial itself, it seems to me that Kazuma desperately believes Van Zieks to be a horrible person deserving of the guilty verdict. Therefore, he in no way can hold hope that Ryu will prove him wrong (unlike what went down in case 2-3 with Albert). Anyway, Ryu says that Van Zieks would never put his fate in his hands.

“... It's not easy to see behind the facade sometimes.”

Case 2-3 already told us this, but it's nice to have it confirmed by someone who was closer to Van Zieks. Because remember, Kazuma spent three months by Van Zieks's side (and even fighting by his side), so of course he would know more about his personality than we do. Kazuma hands over a photograph of Barok when he was younger and

GOOD LORD, HE CAN SMILE. Or he could when he was younger, anyway. Kazuma states the picture was displayed in Gregson's office. What he's 'trying to say' is that if Ryu really thinks he can trust “the Reaper” (distancing choice of words again), he might find that some straight talking will change his view. I got the impression we've been straight talking Van Zieks ever since we first met him, but okay. Let's take the picture and back to the gaol we go! Van Zieks is once again reading from some paper and Ryu points out that either he's an incredibly slow reader or it's an incredibly long letter, but either way, Ryu might even be able to read English faster than him. Naturally, this was said loud enough for Van Zieks to overhear.

Scumbag point for hypocrisy, but also a scumbag point for “Nipponese”. When Ryu asks whether it's still Albert's letter he's reading, Van Zieks says he had the case report brought to him in secret. So wait, the Yard does share case details with its suspect? Hilarious. Once again, Van Zieks insists the situation has nothing to do with Ryu, up until the prosecutor's name is revealed to him. And so, the masked cardboard cutout student has become the master! Ryu notes that all the color drained from Van Zieks's face, which is pretty impressive when there's barely any color there to begin with. Ryu has the opportunity now to thrust the photograph into his face, so let's do that. He's immediately alarmed, since he assumed it to be lost and would never have expected Gregson to have it. When Ryu says that Gregson had a deep respect for him, he dismisses that as nonsense, only to correct himself. “There was a time things were like that.”

Van Zieks thanks Ryu for that nice glimpse into the past, and Ryu thinks to himself that there was a glimmer in Van Zieks's eyes- a brief twinkle. He considers that “an insight into the true nature of this man known to all as the stone-cold Reaper of the Bailey”, with “the true nature” being highlighted as orange. So this right here is undeniable; this is what the narrative is illustrating to us now. The true nature of Barok van Zieks is that of someone who was hopeful and jovial; kind-hearted, as Albert knew him. What we see now, that harsh exterior full of harsh words, is not his nature at all.

Van Zieks is more willing to talk now. He once again speaks of Klint, rehashing the same story we've heard several times already. Van Zieks claims there's not a single day where he doesn't curse the name Asogi. He considers it a cruel twist of fate that the man's son intends to crucify him in 'some kangaroo court'. Clearly, he doesn't think highly of the upcoming trial if he refers to it as a kangaroo court, but that's likely because he knows he isn't the real killer. When Ryu points out that he still doesn't understand why Stronghart apprenticed Kazuma to Van Zieks, the explanation is that “it's what he does”. Van Zieks believes that Stronghart knew Kazuma's true identity from the outset, but still provides no real explanation as to why Stronghart 'did what he did' and even assigned Kazuma as the prosecutor this time. Van Zieks goes on to contemplate the name Asogi some more and calls it 'the epitome of his bane'.

I've talked before about how utterly flawed it is that Van Zieks attributes Genshin's crime to his race and/or cultural upbringing and proceeds to tar every single Japanese person with the same brush. There's no need to go into this again; we all know it's wrong. Turns out, even Van Zieks knows it's wrong, but we'll get back to that momentarily. First, Van Zieks needs to talk about Klint even more. (good lord...) He explains that Klint van Zieks was hunting down a mass murderer and “assigned to the investigation as his partner was a certain visiting student dispatched by the Yard.” This was Genshin, of course, and I believe this is the first time it's said that he too was looking into the Professor case. So Van Zieks already mentioned in the previous case that the Japanese students had left a deep impact on him, and also that he once toasted friendship with a Japanese person, but now we have this:

“But none of us saw the true nature of the man.”

True nature is once again in orange here, but this time as a red herring. Van Zieks believes that the Professor murders were Genshin's true nature, when it isn't quite true at all. Regardless, since Van Zieks was still in university at the time the exchange students were in the country, I don't think he would've had that much contact with Genshin. I expect he encountered the man on rare occasion while Klint associated most with him. Every meeting was enough to foster this respect and friendship, though, so it's clear that young Van Zieks was easily influenced and had a very open mind towards a foreign exchange student. But then, that's what makes the next portion of the story all the more damaging.

“My esteemed brother... The people I believed in... And any semblance of right prevailing over wrong!”

As Van Zieks also already alluded to in the previous case, he found himself in a very dark place. That isn't surprising. Every positive thing Van Zieks knew in his life, from his family to his closest friends, was ripped away from him in extremely close succession. What must've been the final nail in the coffin was Genshin outright admitting to his crimes. It erased all doubt that perhaps there was some sort of misunderstanding or a frame job. Going over everything Van Zieks has said so far, it seems he didn't just blame Genshin for the tremendous loss he suffered; he blamed himself. He must believe that his trust in Genshin blinded him to this supposed 'true nature', just as it must've also blinded Klint, and that the whole tragedy could've been prevented if only he'd been more cautious. So now, in present day, he no longer trusts anyone. He outright says so.

Van Zieks goes on to talk about how he was the one who prosecuted the Professor. Since he'd only just graduated, such a thing usually wouldn't be allowed, but he “beleaguered the ascribed prosecutor until he consented.” This person was Mael Stronghart, who back then was apparently still no more than a prosecutor. A highly accomplished one, but a prosecutor nonetheless. Since Klint was the Director of Prosecutions (or Chief Prosecutor???) at the time, that means he actually ranked above Stronghart. Interesting. Regardless, since Stronghart agreed to let Van Zieks lead the prosecution and instead only acted as an advisor, Van Zieks now feels indebted to him. That certainly explains why he's usually so good about following Stronghart's orders and not asking questions.

“And, of all things, as a lawyer.”

Ahhh, this is the part where Ryu enters the chronology. Our protagonist points out that he's felt Van Zieks's animosity since the first time he faced him in the courtroom; his obvious deep loathing of Japanese people. And here comes perhaps one of the most important, yet most overlooked lines Van Zieks will ever utter in these games:

“But for so many years, that hatred had festered inside me, I could no longer control it.”

So here, Van Zieks admits to two things. First of all, he admits that he was wrong to hold such deep loathing and by extension, to give that loathing a voice. He's a man of logic, after all. To cling to something which he refers to as illogical is about as wrong as one could get. Not only that, he admits that this was an unstoppable force he should have controlled, but was too weak to do so. The hatred overpowered him and did away with common sense. He behaved stupidly and irrationally because for ten years, hatred and negativity was all he knew. But what's even more striking here is Ryu's answer, which is also often overlooked:

Ryu, bless his heart, doesn't blame Van Zieks for succumbing to this weakness. Bear in mind, he's the victim here. Van Zieks wouldn't have encountered many other Japanese people in those ten years, if at all. This means the first person he lashed out against was Ryu. Naturally, Ryu can't speak for Susato or Soseki, who received their own verbal assaults and might have different opinions on the matter. Ryu is just one man, but in our narrative, he's the main protagonist and the main target of these outbursts. Is it misleading and perhaps even problematic in the grand scheme of things to have the protagonist sympathize with such motivation? Well, that depends on many different factors. There's no easy answer for this because it's a nuanced, cultural sort of thing. Personally, I was a bit bothered by it, but not to the point that it ruined the experience for me.

Van Zieks admits that just as the Japanese were the bane of his life, Kazuma Asogi must believe Van Zieks to be the bane of his. He is, after all, the Reaper who sent his father to the gallows. Van Zieks thinks that Kazuma intends to take revenge in court and... Really, this is true.

There's a quick bit of conversation about Gregson now. Turns out, the only reason the Professor was caught at all was because Gregson forced an autopsy on Klint despite it being considered the highest taboo at the time. Van Zieks says that as a result of Gregson's powerful conviction, he could avenge his brother's death. He looks quite torn, a bit pained. He must believe he owes Gregson something for this. The conversation then moves on to Van Zieks's revolver, which he claims to have misplaced an undetermined amount of time ago. “I must have stowed it somewhere, I suppose. Or left it somewhere, perhaps.” Van Zieks clearly doesn't think highly of firearms as a weapon, since he's constantly carrying a sword around instead. Susato points out that Ryu has a talent for misplacing things in common with Van Zieks, which leads to one more scumbag outburst.

… Dude. Come on. You just admitted it was illogical. You came so far! Scumbag point for you. Still, as the conversation rounds to a close, Van Zieks utters the words “Mister... Naruhodo”, much to Ryu's surprise. This is the first time he's actually said Ryu's name! Van Zieks once again reiterates that he's lost all confidence in England's judiciary system. He doesn't trust the police, the judiciary or lawyers. Even so, there's still one thing he's willing to believe in.

“That which you see in the eyes of another across the courtroom: a simple determination to know the truth. From the very first time we clashed in the Bailey almost a year ago now... I couldn't deny it, even though I dearly wished I could. 'Here is a loathsome Japanese... who has absolute integrity as a lawyer.' There are only two other men I've known with that same look in their eyes: my brother, Klint. … And Genshin Asogi.”

This is interesting. So at first when he saw that look in Ryu's eyes, he must've been reminded of Genshin. And again, this is why he directed such hatred towards Ryu; he saw someone who wasn't alive anymore. But now he recalls that Klint also had that same gaze, and so he wants to believe that Ryu is not similar to a deceitful murderer, he's instead similar to his beloved brother. (Boy is he going to have to reevaluate how he judges people when he finds out that his beloved brother was the deceitful murderer.) Van Zieks says that when he saw the photograph, he was reminded of a time when he could laugh, free of the shackles of mistrust which plague him now. This is very relevant since Van Zieks indeed can't laugh anymore. We never see him do it. He can't even smile.

“But at times the mire into which I've sunk makes it almost impossible to breathe.”

Someone please get this man to a professional therapist. If he means that in a more literal sense and he does occasionally feel like he can't breathe, that's telltale signs of panic attacks. It could just be, of course, that he's being overdramatic and the “impossible to breathe” bit is just fanciful wordplay to go with the mire analogy. Still though, considering he's also mentioned being in a dark place and that he's willing to die so long as it serves a useful purpose, and that he drinks his wine to stave off tedium... He's clearly depressed. But then, he seems to know it. He acknowledges that the way he is now is not the way things should be, and that he needs to fight to overcome it. And so:

“... In tomorrow's trial... Will you advocate for me?”

Boom. Swallowed his pride and turned to Ryu for help because he knows it's what's best for him. He no longer trusts anyone, but he's willing to trust Ryu because once he starts opening up again and has that trust repaid, then perhaps things can gradually go back to the way things were when he was younger. Mind, he still hasn't apologized for his actions, but that doesn't change that Ryu at least is willing to extend a hand to Van Zieks. It's a little sad that Susato doesn't properly form her own opinion on this and instead just goes along with whatever Ryu says. I would've liked to know just how she feels about Van Zieks's attitude and whether or not he deserves to be helped. She doesn't object to it, at least, and since Susato usually always speaks her mind, I can only assume she genuinely agrees with Ryu's sentiments.

The next day, in the defendant's lobby, it's remarked there's a 'menacing tension' in the air and Ryu surmises out loud it's the result of the menacing appearance of the defendant. Well-deserved, that remark. Touché. Van Zieks asks him for a little more courtesy in a polite enough manner, but considering the lack of courtesy he's shown Ryu over the past 8 months, that's hypocritical. He informs Ryu that this is a closed trial without a jury, which bums me out because it means no more Summation Examination. I would've liked to see Asogi react to that. (S)Holmes comes in and has the weirdest little banter with Van Zieks that I honestly can't... really decipher. There's several things about it that really strike me as being off:

- “And I you. I see London's celebrated great detective is as active as ever.”

- “Oh, you exaggerate, my dear fellow. Compared to my paltry engagements with a few trivial cases... The Reaper's overbearing presence is a far greater deterrent to the black roots of crime in our capital. And whilst I may not agree with your methods... There is at least one point on which I would readily commend you.”

- “What an honour. And that would be...?”

- “Your eye for a good lawyer, sir. […] Behind this lawyer there is a very great mind. My own.”

Alright, so... First of all, we know (S)Holmes is super arrogant and would never refer to his past cases as “trivial” in all sincerity. Plus, it's established that he's very weird with compliments, such as referring to Gregson as “the best of those blunderers of the Yard”, so complimenting Van Zieks directly on the effect he has on crime feels off. Aside from that, (S)Holmes addresses Van Zieks as the Reaper and continues to talk about 'his methods', when it's already been established (S)Holmes doesn't believe Van Zieks has anything to do with the Reaper killings. Taking all that into account, I can only really assume that the first half of this above conversation is (S)Holmes being weirdly passive aggressive towards Van Zieks, with Van Zieks being passive aggressive in turn. It really, truly feels as if there was some sort of backstory between these two that they had to scrap at the last second. Regardless, the exchange ends with (S)Holmes warning Van Zieks that this will be “quite a trial”.

Gina Lestrade shows up with Yujin Mikotoba (….. when did they meet???), saying they intend to watch the trial, and I am very impressed with how (S)Holmes manages to disappear from the scene and not say a word when his old partner arrives. Anyway, Gina looks Ryu square in the eye and asks him why he agreed to take Van Zieks on. Everyone's saying it was him who killed Gregson. Considering everyone was saying it was her who killed Pop Windibank six months ago, you'd think she might want to tone down her attitude, but she's clearly in mourning and lashing out. See? People who are hurting can say insensitive things. Ryu insists he doesn't believe it to be true, but Gina demands to know that if it wasn't him, then who?

“An' if it turns out it was 'im wot killed the boss... Then God 'elp 'im!”

It's interesting to remember that during The Unspeakable Story, Gina wasn't afraid of Van Zieks for his Reaper reputation. She didn't believe in the curse and didn't think she would end up like the other defendants. Now, she absolutely no longer gives a damn whether Van Zieks is the mysterious Reaper or not. She only thinks he might be a murderer who took away her mentor and that's what has her judge him so fiercely. Van Zieks remarks on her fiery eyes and tells her that the culprit does indeed deserve every inch of her loathing. “At least that may be some solace to the deceased.” So here, in a roundabout way, it rather looks as if Van Zieks is sympathizing with Gina's anger. At the very least, he's condoning it, just not towards himself.

Entering the courtroom, it becomes clear very fast just how serious this trial will become. Just as was alluded to before, the judge confirms that the 'Reaper of the Old Bailey' has been undermining Her Majesty's justice system and therefore, the people will demand answers on this matter. Ryu thinks to himself the trial will be a lot more far-reaching than just Gregson's murder. Sure enough, Kazuma is at the prosecutor's bench and ready to get that vengeance Van Zieks referred to in jail. Shockingly, the first witness he summons is actually Van Zieks himself. The judge is surprised, but Kazuma explains that as a prosecutor, Van Zieks believes in the oath of office he's taken; he'll be compelled to tell the truth. Because contrary to what happened in Memoirs of the Clouded Kokoro, Van Zieks is against perjury! (I WILL NEVER GET OVER WHAT HAPPENED WITH SHAMSPEARE!) Sure enough, he takes the stand and Kazuma says the court would like to hear him explain some things away.

He really is just brutally honest, isn't he? Both in his courtroom methods and in how he shows his emotions. He doesn't sugarcoat, he doesn't beat around the bush, he definitely doesn't lie... At most, he may withhold some information. Unfortunately, his testimony is mostly useless. The judge remarks that he didn't want to imagine this day would come, but ever since Van Zieks became known as the Reaper, he's been dreading it. The judge, our neutral ground, seems to be convinced that Van Zieks may have actually done the deed. That's not good. Kazuma acts all smug, saying that Van Zieks indeed hasn't explained anything away and that his testimony barely qualifies as an excuse. Van Zieks notes that his 'mute apprentice' has a way with words. Meanwhile, Ryu thinks to himself that Kazuma isn't behaving like himself, which is a sentiment they'll keep repeating throughout the case. … I gotta be honest here, I didn't notice all that much of a difference between this Kazuma and the one from the very first case of the game. I mean, come on, he sliced a man's hair off and cursed his descendants just for insulting Ryu. He's slightly more arrogant here, maybe, but since he was only the assistant there and is a leading counsel here, it makes sense for him to be more proactive and confident in his methods. Then again, I'm not a Kazuma expert; maybe there's something I'm missing.

In his testimony, Van Zieks revealed that he was investigating Gregson, but when pressed on it he won't admit the exact reason for it. He only says he'd identified a distinct possibility Gregson was involved in a case he was investigating. When asked how he even knew where Gregson would be, he openly admits to having stolen into his office and consulted his diary. (“Dear Diary, today I dropped my fish 'n chips on the way to Fresno Street-”) When told that illegally entering Gregson's office would warrant serious consequences, Van Zieks says he was aware of that risk.

The rest of the testimony is pressed without further hitches, though what did strike me as interesting is that at one point, Ryu suggests the gunshot might've originated from outside the room, but Van Zieks immediately says it's out of the question. He shoots the possibility down with evidence only he could have experienced (the bang sounded inside the room and he could smell gunpowder), and in doing so, only implicates himself further. Detrimentally honest, this one. Not only that, but he picked the gun up.

NO KIDDING that was carelessness. Is he related to Miles Edgeworth after all? Kazuma talks about how three street peddlers overheard the bang and burst through the door with some force. Van Zieks states they almost gave him a heart attack in the process (omg) and Ryu thinks to himself: “(But you're supposed to be the Reaper...)” C'mon Ryu, haven't you seen enough of this man by now to know he gets jarred easily?

When the testimony rounds to a close, things get interesting. Kazuma uses his defense attorney skills, as promised. He uses evidence from the Court Record to point out contradictions in Van Zieks's testimony, thereby 'proving he's lying'. Hey, what happened to Van Zieks believing in the oath of office and being compelled to tell the truth? Did Kazuma call Van Zieks to the stand just to expose him as a liar? He wins the judge over quite easily by illustrating these contradictions and casting doubt on Van Zieks's integrity. Tragic, because as Van Zieks says:

Van Zieks steps down from the stand and disappears for the remainder of the trial day. He doesn't even show up during intermission in the defendant's lobby. Characters do still talk about him, though!

I mean... He ain't lyin'. At one point, Kazuma utters the words “the defence is fated to lose. And the prosecution to win,” which once again confirms that Kazuma basically asked Ryu to take part in an 'unwinnable' trial. Which, y'know, is technically fine. Losing a trial isn't the end of the world, especially when the defendant (in Kazuma's eyes) is actually guilty. Still though, personally asking Ryu to take on Van Zieks just so he can watch the man be exposed as a killer is kind of... Kazuma, sir, are you also unable to control your hatred and having it lash out in illogical ways? Is that a parallel with Van Zieks I spy?

The rest of the trial isn't directly related to Van Zieks. It's just a whole bunch of roundabout arguing with street peddlers, red-headed scammers and the revelation that one of those peddlers is actually Daley Vigil, the missing former prison warder. Despite knowing of the dangers, Kazuma asks Ryu to help him forcefully break some of the man's black psyche-locks (c'mon, we all know that's what's impeding his memories) and they send the man to the hospital as a result. Welp. Unveiling the truth is becoming increasingly dangerous in this game and that's really upping the stakes for us.

Into the next investigation day we go! Ryu surmises that it's clear now “Van Zieks definitely didn't do it.” Even so, there are some unanswered questions about the man. What was he even doing at the crime scene and what's with that investigation into Gregson he didn't want to talk about in court? Heading on over to the Chief Justice's office, we overhear him pressuring Kazuma into 'continuing the trial as instructed'. Once he takes note of Ryu and the others, he tells them that he wanted Van Zieks's trial concluded that day and blames 'Asogi's unwelcome inquiries' for it taking longer than necessary. Stronghart's becoming increasingly ominous, here... I don't know for certain why he doesn't just go the extra mile to have Van Zieks proven innocent so he can keep using his Reaper tool to intimidate the masses. I suppose it's because with Gregson dead, he's lost his most important strategist in the killings and the tool of the Reaper's curse can't be used as easily anymore. Assassins probably come a dime a dozen, so Shinn can be replaced, but Gregson... Not so much. Ryu asks Stronghart whether Kazuma truly believes Van Zieks to be the Reaper, but Stronghart says he wouldn't know. He once again talks about the history of the Reaper with its very long run of coincidental deaths and tells us nothing new or interesting.

To prison we go, to visit Van Zieks himself! He's reading a book now, but we're never told what it is. He tries to ignore the visitors, but just as always, eventually comes up to the bars to talk.

YOU FREAKIN- I CAN'T- WHY- How many more times must we teach you this lesson, old man?!!! Thankfully, even Ryu is fed up at this point.

Finally. He spoke up. I've seen a lot of people criticize the fact that Ryu never properly confronts Van Zieks with the damage he's been doing, and on the one hand I would agree. Calling people out on their bullshit is a very useful step in having them notice their mistakes. However, I'd be remiss if I didn't point out that is also a very Western view. It's very easy for us to think that Ryu should stand up for himself and call Van Zieks a prejudiced little tosser who needs to think before he speaks, but that simply isn't part of his character. There may be several reasons to explain why he doesn't confront Van Zieks more firmly, but I'd like to focus on just two. The first is that Ryu is an exchange student who came to England as a 'guest' and is facing not just one racist. Not even five or ten. Everywhere he goes, he's surrounded by people just like Van Zieks. We've seen it in the judge, we've seen it in the jurors, we've seen it in Gregson and in witnesses... Ryu is a minority in a very literal sense, since there's only one other Japanese person (two if we count Soseki) we know of in this entire city. There's a very natural, very understandable defense mechanism which may kick in when surrounded by potentially dangerous individuals, and that is to withdraw; to be as quiet as possible and to attract as little trouble as possible, since 'they outnumber you'. Bonus points for the extreme difference in social standing between Ryu and Van Zieks.

There's one other thing which adds to the above. Ryu was written to be your everyday Japanese person, and their view on confrontation is quite different from our own. I remembered this from a job interview I once had with a Japanese company and looked into it again to refresh my memory: Japanese people are non-confrontational. It's very important for them to maintain a sort of harmony during conversation and therefore, they'll rarely utter negative sentiments, such as criticism, in a way that will cause embarrassment to the person they're addressing. Instead, they employ something often referred to as indirect communication. “The pattern of Japanese indirect communication uses far less words to convey intent in a more subtle manner. Indirect communication uses expression, posture, and tone of voice of the speaker to draw meaning from the actual conversation.” This is very deeply ingrained into the Japanese culture and, if the sources I reviewed are correct, it goes all the way back to the feudal days. Mind, this attitude isn't even limited to Japan. I've been told there's several other countries who adopt that very same attitude and if you cause someone else to lose face, it can have some very severe repercussions for you. Kazuma is a bit more outspoken than Ryu, for example when they face Jezail, but this makes sense also, since Asogi was written to be more progressive. It seems to me that Ryu has been using indirect communication quite often already and, since Van Zieks is woefully unequipped to read this type of communication, Ryu has now finally resorted to something more direct. It's still not a sharp call-out, but rather, the above line reads to me as something in-between direct and indirect communication. And it works.

HELL FROZE OVER! We've done it, lads! Or, as Iris puts it:

So even the rest of the cast is acknowledging this is a big deal and we've made tremendous progress. Could someone else have confronted Van Zieks in a more direct, more Western way before this point? Sure. But would he have listened? The judge has already snarked at him several times during trials and it's always been brushed off as nothing. The only person he might've listened to would've been Albert, but what is the narrative significance of having a side character confront Van Zieks? There isn't one. This was a very impactful moment where Ryu himself resorted to a more Western tactic to get his point across and Van Zieks, in turn, finally uttered an apology. So now we get to have an earnest conversation with the man at last. Van Zieks says he was impressed; not by Ryu but by Kazuma. On first glance, this seems like a mean thing to say, but... Van Zieks is already intimately familiar with Ryu's performance in the courtroom. Why would he still be impressed by that? Kazuma, however, he's never seen in action before. Van Zieks thinks it's all rather “sardonic”.

It's called a cruel irony, Barok. A common tool in storytelling. He himself considers it “retribution for having played the part of the Reaper all these years”. So once again it's discussed how the Reaper minimizes the amount of crime in the capital and since that's a goal Van Zieks is committed to, he never said anything to disprove the rumors. Ryu insists that someone else is profiting off Van Zieks's silence on the matter and is basically using him as a scapegoat. As it turns out, Van Zieks wasn't quite as passive about the matter as he's led us to believe.

Hm. Alright, so he thinks it's good the Reaper's curse is reducing crime in London, but clearly he wants the Reaper organization brought to justice. In a way, he's profiting off these 'accidental deaths' since the fear that comes from them aligns with his goal of crime reduction, but he doesn't actively condone the Reaper murders and wants them halted. Since there's so much accurate information about the accused used in the killings, Van Zieks surmised a while ago that someone from Scotland Yard must've been involved in the killings. It's taken him “many years” to identify the central figure in the organization: Tobias Gregson. Naturally, everyone is shocked. We knew Gregson! And sure, he wasn't exactly a kind person, but he certainly didn't appear to be a killer. He was very rough around the edges, but from what we'd been led to believe, he had a good heart. … A decent heart. Mediocre, one might say. Ryu asks whether the reason Van Zieks was investigating Gregson was to expose him as the Reaper, but Van Zieks repeats the notion that the Reaper is not a single person. He doesn't have a doubt, though, that Gregson was a key member of the organization who did all of the planning. Believe it or not, Gregson was the brains behind the killings; the tactician who investigated and plotted, then left the dirty work to an assassin by the name of Asa Shinn. (LOCALIZATION WHY)

So now that we have this information, we can come to a very interesting conclusion. Both Gregson and Shinn are dead now, so by Van Zieks's reasoning, the Reaper is dead. You'd think this is good, but it does in fact make it very difficult to find the truth. Rather, Van Zieks believes that the truth died with Gregson (he hinted as much twice already) and while the seasoned Ace Attorney player knows it won't be impossible to expose a dead person as a killer, it'd be a hectic ordeal. The seasoned Great Ace Attorney player will know the Reaper hierarchy extends just a bit higher and the two who died are only pawns, but... Y'know. Approaching this from a first-time-player point of view, you'll know things will get troublesome.

There's another topic of conversation where Van Zieks once again addresses how sharp Kazuma is in court. He didn't miss a thing.

OUCH. So when Ryu first arrived, Van Zieks saw Genshin whenever he looked at him, not only due to his roots but due to 'the look in his eyes when searching for the truth'. Now, he sees Genshin in Kazuma, which surely makes a lot more sense. Van Zieks goes on to say that it's true some of the aristocracy from 10 years ago were problematic and abusing their power. “In a way, Asogi was carving out a canker from society that we British couldn't deal with ourselves.” So here, he sounds almost complimentary of the Professor's actions- specifically Asogi's actions. As if it would've all been well and good, were it not for the Professor's final victim. “But that's precisely why it makes no sense. Klint van Zieks was a noble and upstanding man. He wasn't corrupt.”

Remember way back in The Unspeakable Story when I surmised that Van Zieks boiled Genshin's actions down to his race in order to avoid the belief that there might've been a reason his brother was killed? We see it here again. Van Zieks is in doubt. He may say vocally that “it makes no sense”, but that line in itself is already telling. The fact that he acknowledges it and draws it into question implies to us that he's skeptical of the story. Deep down, he knows something is amiss. He knows there's some sort of explanation he's missing, but if he were to dig too deeply into it, he'd have to acknowledge that perhaps his brother was corrupt. And this still isn't all of it. There's one more thing Van Zieks has to discuss before we can round this conversation to a close. Ten years ago, shortly after Klint died, Genshin saved his life.

There's that phrasing again. “True nature”. It's not in orange this time, but it's there all the same. Van Zieks is convinced that Genshin is the one who had a hidden true nature. In this story, we learn that 'the scum of London' had already targeted him several times even before he became known as the Reaper, simply because of who he was and who his brother was. JEESH. Harsh. So on the night in question, a couple of thugs also tried to kill him (allegedly) but Genshin stepped in to protect him. Genshin became lightly wounded as a result. This is the part where I would have expected them to explain Van Zieks's scars, but he never mentions being wounded himself, so we can't be sure this is when it happened. Curious. This was the perfect opportunity and they let it slide. So anyway, two days after that incident, Genshin was arrested.

Some more telling lines here. Van Zieks thinks he'd never recount the story to anyone; not because there's no need to tell it. It's because it must be difficult to talk about. On its own, that might be a farfetched conclusion I wouldn't make, but Ryu confirms it with his follow-up line: “Thank you... for confiding in me.” We can take this line to mean exactly what it says; Van Zieks confided something painful. He let down some more walls. Growth!

So with all this out of the way, there's a whole load more investigation to do before this case is over. Most of it has to do with Genshin's will, a mysterious trunk belonging to Gregson, the missing time of death on the autopsy report... Nothing too relevant to Van Zieks's character. However, if we go into the prosecutor's office and examine things while Kazuma is there, we do get some fun tidbits about how Van Zieks wouldn't trust anyone else to touch his things and would rearrange it all himself whenever needed. From the sound of it, Van Zieks is very meticulous and a loner, which aligns with what we know about him. Some more conversation later, we reach the topic of the Reaper with Kazuma. He agrees that Gregson was definitely involved in the Reaper organization, but there's one thing that's more important. “Who's been giving orders to the Inspector?” In my eyes, it's a bit of a stretch to assume with certainty anyone was giving orders; Gregson might've just taken up the vigilante justice by himself and found some way to pay Shinn enough money to get in on it. Kazuma insists, though, that Van Zieks is 'the real Reaper'. We as the audience already know that's nonsense, we know Kazuma is wrong. Or perhaps we might think that if somehow Van Zieks pulled the wool over our eyes and Kazuma is correct, that'd be one heck of a wild twist. Kazuma gives no real reason why he believes this, he only goes on to say that ten years ago, it was Van Zieks who 'decided his father must be a mass murderer'. Shockingly, Susato is the one to jump in here and outright say to Kazuma that he's wrong; that Van Zieks only saw that 'justice was done as the law dictates' and he wasn't to blame for Genshin's execution. Kazuma insists that people condemn people and the law is just a tool they use for it. So I suppose that's exactly what he's doing right now. He's condemning Van Zieks, just as Van Zieks once condemned Genshin. We're cycling! And my main question now is this: If Stronghart had been the prosecutor in the Professor's trial instead, would Kazuma be just as vengeful towards him? Because remember, it's people who condemn people. This implies that anyone who had taken on the job of prosecutor at that time is the one who 'decided that Genshin must've been a murderer' and would need to take responsibility in Kazuma's eyes. Kazuma's beef isn't with Van Zieks personally, it's with the prosecutor who used that tool of the law and also evidence.

HAHAHAAA! HAH! If you align this screenshot next to the “Klint van Zieks was a noble and upstanding man” line, you get a wonderful parallel. These two prosecutors are both dead wrong about their beloved family, and they're about to find out in the worst way possible.

One murder mystery spread out over two episodes? You bet! Stay tuned for the last case, The Resolve of Ryunosuke Naruhodo!

[californiannostalgia]

Tangled the Series Character Analysis: Childhood Trauma POV

I can't believe Tangled the Series really created two incredible antivillains and threw them in direct contrast with the pre-existing golden couple. I love what the showrunners did with the main quartet, so I made a very subjective analysis post about it from a Childhood Trauma POV. (Spoilers, obviously.)

The Boys

The series' focus is on Rapunzel, and by association her direct opposite, Cassandra, so the boys get comparatively less screen time. But it doesn't take long to figure out that Varian is meant to be a parallel for Eugene—these are two people dealing with the absence of parental guardians, struggling to reconcile the lives they previously had with their changing ideals in relation to a less-than-perfect Father Figure.

They both respond to the helpless state of being young, alone, and powerless by trying to take back power in any way they can. Eugene reinvented himself and buried his desires for a family. Varian throws in everything he has into recovering what he lost, because he's a child and the best solution he can think of is to return to the familiar safety of his father's presence. A significant portion of his desperation is fueled by fear of his father’s disapproval, because as much as Quirin loves Varian, he wasn’t the dependable voice of support. Varian needs approval from outside sources, which was also Flynn Rider’s purpose in life, once upon a time. (Again, parallels.) 

Throughout the series, the boys' relationship with each other transforms from exasperated incomprehension to easy understanding. The process is hastened as Eugene lets himself realize he cares a lot about troubled kids who remind him of himself. He becomes aware that children should not be required to survive on their own like he and Lance had. Spurred on by his significant other's love and encouragement, Eugene is able to acknowledge the adverse affects of his childhood on his life and start moving on. His extending a ready hand to Varian is his process of healing. Though Eugene's first priority will always be Rapunzel, he truly wants to save Varian from the uncontrollable volatility of risky decisions because he knows that downward spiral intimately.

Of course, there is a difference between thieving from the rich and planning the destruction of a kingdom. We'll get to that later.

The Girls

Rapunzel and Cassandra are the biggest driving forces of narrative power in the show, and they are survivors of child abuse. Every one of the main quartet has Parent Issues, but Rapunzel takes the crown (figuratively speaking) with this one. She was kidnapped and groomed into a life-giving doll, and she was only able to escape her abusive adoptive mother through incredibly traumatizing means. For Cassandra, it was neglect, and even her loving adoptive father couldn't leviate the scars left on her childhood mind.

They're a classic case of Golden Child vs. Scapegoat, which is a common case seen in siblings raised by Narcissistic parents. When one child is "favored" more than the other, the kids experience vastly different childhoods, resulting in resentment that stems from their inability to understand each other. Rapunzel and Cassandra are both jealous of what the other had—Rapunzel wants Cassandra's casual, practiced ease with freedom and personal agency, while Cassandra wants the attention and respect that Rapunzel is given by the status of her birth. Because they're unwilling to speak candidly about the unique hardships of their childhood, what results is a series of miscommunications that put a strain on their friendship.

Cassandra and Rapunzel both want the other in their lives, but how they attempt to make that connection is very different. Cassandra wants to be a helpful, essential force in Rapunzel's life. Unfortunately, Rapunzel has been raised on the idea that when push comes to shove, no one will help her survive. Cassandra interprets Rapunzel's desire for independence as Rapunzel scorning the connection that Cassandra is attempting to create. Add in some manipulation from an ancient evil, and Cassandra decides she is done exhausting her emotions for Rapunzel.

Rapunzel, on the other hand, wants absolute honesty in her relationships. Gothel raised her on lies, so she spurns deception. But Cassandra knows the merits of protecting herself by holding her opinions in, which is where the misunderstandings occur. Rapunzel cannot trust someone who isn't completely forthright with her. She's tired of dealing with liars, and she grows afraid that Cassandra will cause her the same pain as Gothel did. But the thing is, Cassandra is not Gothel, and Rapunzel loved Gothel. She couldn't save Gothel, but maybe she can save Cassandra. It's not too late.

Rapunzel doesn't know when to give up on Cassandra because she is aware that she and Cassandra are similar people. Giving up on Cassandra would feel too much like giving up on her own hopes for a happy life. Rapunzel can't let Cassandra be unhappy. This princess cares too much, loves too hard. She never learned how to write people off because you can't survive a childhood like hers with that much cheer if you don't hang onto your optimism like a goddamn lifeline.

This is Rapunzel’s method of taking back power for herself: saving others. Rapunzel could have been Cassandra. Rapunzel is trying to believe she herself is worth saving—therefore, Cassandra must be worth saving as well. Rapunzel's significant other is giving her a stable source of love and support, but without a proper resolution to Cassandra's struggles—a final proof that despite Gothel's influence, they can both be happy—Rapunzel would feel incomplete.

The Golden Couple

At the end of the day, Rapunzel and Eugene are fundamentally good people. If it comes down to it, they would be unable to sacrifice the world for their own desires. (Eugene's thievery doesn't count as an expression of true desire because it was literally his method of survival. An expression of true, selfish desire for him might've been something like manipulation and abduction for the purposes of making people stay, but Eugene is not Gothel and he would never do that to anyone in a million years.) (On a side note, Rapunzel's selfish desire might've manifested in the abandonment of all duties and personal connections in favor of eternal exploration, or revenge towards a kingdom that failed to save her, or a thorough destruction of authority figures—but she loves people too much and would never be able to forsake her family.)

Life threw a lot of rocks at them, but these two came through it marginally well-adjusted. They affirmed their love for each other in a violent, unforgettable manner, which makes it easier for them to trust in each other's affection. Eugene would've been okay with never finding his biological father, just as Rapunzel had been okay with her biological parents' inability to protect her. They have no wish to punish the world for what they suffered. They’re content with who they are. They're just glad they made it, that they're finally allowed to love someone without being afraid. They're each other's saving grace.

The Antivillains

This is the difference between Hero and Antivillain: Cassandra and Varian are willing to punish the world for what happened to them. There’s a very faint line between justified retaliation and venting. In their desperation and anger, they cross the line, and they’re unable to stop themselves once they get going. Unlike the Golden Couple, Cassandra and Varian refuse to settle. They want what is owed. 

Also, they really, really hate themselves. (This is important.)

Varian believes Quirin is the ultimate source of affirmation. The fact that he lost his father by way of his own dangerous experiment, coupled with the fact that no one prioritizes his call for help in the face of national disaster, is enough to make him feel isolated from the world. Though he is burdened with a growing sense of remorse for his deeds, he doesn’t stop resorting to drastic, harmful measures to get his father back until he is forcefully stopped by betrayal from his allies. He finally makes the full transition from “antagonist” to “protagonist” when Rapunzel risks herself to save Quirin from the rocks. If Quirin could not be saved, there’s a possibility Varian might have stayed an antagonist, unenthusiastic though he may have been in his villainous role. As long as Quirin is trapped in those rocks, Varian remains the villain who put him there.

With Quirin safe, Varian allows himself to take huge steps in healing. He slowly rediscovers his self-worth, one that is separate from Quirin’s approval. Rapunzel—and by extension, Eugene—play the friendly, supportive role to Varian’s ingenuity, helping him along in his quest for self-acceptance. Varian still has trouble working through the heavily ingrained self-hatred, but he recovers enough confidence in his own judgment that he takes Eugene’s warning to heart and is able to install a safety device in his father’s helmet, just in case.

This is the Varian who meets Cassandra in the Tower that once belonged to Gothel. At this point in time, Cassandra has been manipulated into thinking of herself as weak and unimportant in comparison to Rapunzel. Her adoptive father, much like Quirin, was too gruff to be vocal with approvals. Her efforts have not been met with successes. She feels like a failure, and she hates feeling like a failure. This is Cassandra’s method of taking back power: by turning herself into someone unforgettable. If she can make something of herself, she’ll finally be able to prove Gothel wrong. She can be just as special as Rapunzel, if she’s given the chance. She wants that chance.

Similar to Varian, Cassandra doesn’t stop her downward spiral until her supposed ally and mentor betrays her and forcefully takes her power away. Only when there are no options left does she allow herself to admit that she was wrong. She is then rewarded for her honesty with Rapunzel’s love and trust. Armed with a new confidence, the sisters vanquish the evil together in an epic showdown that will long be remembered. Cassandra finally gets her dramatic hero’s tale.

Rapunzel and Eugene have an internal compass that lets them make snap decisions. They don’t have the healthiest self-esteem, but they can at least stand by what they think is right. Comparatively speaking, Cassandra and Varian have terrible self-esteem. They don’t trust their own judgment and are heavily influenced by outside forces. Without the constant barrage of trust and affection from Rapunzel, who is akin to a blazing sun when it comes to personal loyalty, these antivillains might never have reached their redemptive ending. They wouldn’t have been able to let go of their twisted priorities without outside influence. Can’t blame them for it, though.

It’s no surprise that Cassandra and Varian are relatable to many people. Who wouldn’t want to reclaim what was taken from them during childhood? (Of course, the problem occurs when you start hurting others to reclaim what you lost.) Their journey is a different kind of vulnerable from Rapunzel and Eugene’s journey, and it’s extraordinary in its detail. This show is essentially a long exploration of the various ways a parent can mess you up and the coping methods of kids who want to become more than their past, which is totally up my alley of expertise. I’m grateful I got to watch them grow taller than their trauma.

Finally, here’s a parting gif of Lance, because I love him and he’s a well-adjusted ray of sunshine. We all wish we could be as mentally stable as Lance—the main quartet included.

[iffeelscouldkill]

this is the place that they pull you to

A/N: I would say “my hand slipped” but this actually took me like a week to write xD

This is a post-season 2 episode 1 fic, so, here be spoilers! Basically I was talking to @dragonsthough101 about how I was expecting more emotional fallout on McCabe’s end from all of the conflict and tensions in episode 1 and the putdowns from Arkady, and while I’m sure we will get that in the podcast, it also occurred to me that I could... write that :D and thus *flourishes hands*

Title is taken from Wires by Savlonic, because I was listening to it and I realised it’s actually a very good song for RJ, both under the Regime and after. And now I earworm myself whenever I work on this fic xD

---

Once the door to RJ’s room on the Iris II has slid shut behind them and the red ‘lock’ light has engaged, they let out a shaky breath.

Then, only then, do they allow their lower lip to tremble.

RJ shuffles over to the bed – more like a cot really, but that’s long-haul space travel for you – and drops down onto it. Park’s words from earlier are looping inside their head. “I hope you’re right. But honestly, in this moment, McCabe? I’m glad we don’t have to find out.”

RJ lets out another shaky breath that’s closer to a sob, and blinks back the tears that are forming in their eyes. It doesn’t completely work, and a couple escape and track down their cheeks. RJ smears them away with the palm of their hand. “Get a grip, McCabe,” they mutter angrily to themself. Sure, they might be alone in their room right now, but they know better than to feel like it’s safe to relax or let go. Someone could be by any minute to check on them, or there might be a situation that requires all crew members to come to the mess hall, or the cockpit, and then how will RJ explain their red eyes and wrung-out demeanour?

It’s not safe to let their guard down. It hasn’t been for weeks. Even around Park, the one person on this vessel RJ knows they can trust, RJ feels – off-kilter, like they’re lagging a step behind everything. RJ is still trying to get used to not addressing him as “Agent”, to figure out what they can and can’t say now, to navigate their new relationship. As friends – but are they friends? Does Park even like RJ, outside of the context of them working together under the Republic?

It seems uncharitable to think, and RJ and Park had always had a good relationship as colleagues – they hadn’t been close, and Park had seemed pretty inscrutable to RJ at first, but then they’d got used to his way of working and communicating. Figured out how to make him crack a smile. Drawn some praise from him, even, and realised that underneath everything he was a caring person, and a good boss.

But RJ had also thought – been sure – that Park was loyal to the Republic, so how well did they really know him? Know this Park? And Park has been treating them… warily, especially these past few days. Not coldly or poorly, but a little bit at arm’s length. Like he isn’t sure what they might do. Like he doesn’t trust them, even though RJ trusts Park totally – to the point where they were willing to throw over their whole career, everything they’d worked so hard for, and follow him onto the Iris II.

Granted, they also hadn’t had a lot of other options at that time, but RJ still isn’t sure they would have made the same decision if Park hadn’t been there.

And yet here they both are, and Park is already a fixture in the cockpit, watching the controls when Tripat- when Sana or Krejjh needs a break, having apparently built up some experience as a co-pilot for long-haul transports after serving in the military (yet another thing that RJ didn’t know about him). And he’s comfortable enough with the crew to be on bantering terms with them, to suggest plans involving decommissioned government satellites. Whereas RJ…

“Cram it, McCabe!”

RJ’s lip trembles again, this time in earnest. And RJ would like to pretend that these are angry tears, or frustrated or indignant tears, but they’re really not. RJ wants to be angry, to stand their ground and fire back and give as good as they get and somehow manage to verbally earn the others’ respect; to be seen as a person instead of a suspect or a liability. But they’ve struck the wrong chord every time. RJ is sick of the awkward tension every time they’re in the room; sick of Arkady’s prickly snappishness and Sana’s increasingly weary peacemaking; sick of the unspoken communication between the crew that they can’t parse.

It doesn’t help to realise that the crew must have got practiced at that during the weeks they spent evading the IGR’s scrutiny before they made landing on New Jupiter. At least Park could say he hadn’t been there by that point. But McCabe had, headphones on, straining to parse something from every off-handed comment, every loaded silence.

Park wasn’t there because he was being tortured in Zone Z, McCabe thinks, and abruptly feels sick. Sick at the thought, and sick of themself for – not thinking, for even considering for a split second that Park might be somehow better off. After being imprisoned, cut off from his friends and family, tortured and maimed by a government he’d spent years of his life serving.

The same government that he believes RJ was thinking of selling them out to.

This realisation steals the breath from RJ’s lungs with a whoosh, and all of a sudden they don’t feel sick, or indignant, or hurt – they just feel cold.

RJ hadn’t been able to explain to Park in the moment exactly what they’d been thinking by withholding the information about the Fowleys being bugged and monitored (because of course they were). When the ‘offer’ from Jay Fowley had first come through, the crew hadn’t been desperate enough to seriously consider it, and by the time they were… well, they’d been on the verge of figuring things out anyway. And RJ had been feeling angry, and vindictive, and not in the mood to volunteer anything that would aid the crew; not when doing that had got them into this mess in the first place.

And maybe in the back of their mind, a voice had been whispering that they should keep their options open. It’s a voice that gets louder in the dark, when RJ is lying awake on their bunk, unable to sleep for replaying those moments in the corridor, the way that it felt like the ground was falling out from under them as Goodman denounced them and Park as defectors. It gets louder whenever RJ clashes with Arkady, whenever they catch uncertain glances from the other crew members, whenever RJ wanders the corridors of this godforsaken claustrophobic ship and realises that this is it now. This is their whole life.

But they never thought about how that might look to Park. It’s like in RJ’s head there are somehow two Republics: the one that would be capable of doing such horrible things to Park – to any person, much less one who hadn’t been demonstrably proven guilty – and the one that RJ had dedicated their career to serving, that they had believed was just and good and right.

RJ wants to find him and apologise, to try and explain, to share some of the fears and secret thoughts that have been curdling on the back of their tongue these past weeks.

But Park told them to get some rest, and RJ has enough awareness to realise that there’s a much higher chance of the conversation turning out well if they sleep a while first. So, reluctantly, RJ toes off their shoes and shrugs off their vest, and wriggles underneath the taut blanket attached to the bunk.

Either they’ve reached some kind of peace with themself or they’re more exhausted than they realised, because sleep overtakes them in minutes.

---

RJ is woken by a knocking at the door: light and tentative at first, and then firmer and louder. As always, it takes a moment for their brain to catch up with their surroundings: the hard bunk beneath them, followed by the bare walls of their room, still unadorned (RJ wasn’t exactly carrying any personal belongings when they fled CUI Headquarters, and the ship hadn’t made any stops since. Not that RJ knows what they would put in their room anyway. There hadn’t been much to leave behind on New Jupiter). RJ sits up and rubs an arm across their eyes, then goes to answer the door.

It’s Violet. RJ clamps down on the reflexive urge to say something like, ‘Did you draw the short straw?’, or maybe, ‘Did they send you to manage me?’ Violet doesn’t look like she’s here under duress, and to RJ’s memory, she’s not a particularly good actor.

“Hi,” they say instead.

“Hi,” Violet replies with a little smile. There’s always a weird dissonance – though RJ would never, ever bring this up – that comes from hearing the voices of the Rumor crew come out of the mouths of actual people instead of a recording. “How did you sleep?”

“Uh…” RJ thinks back, and is surprised to find that the answer is ‘well’. They actually feel… slightly refreshed. “Fine.” Belatedly, they tack on, “Thank you.”

“That’s good to hear.” Violet smiles again. She’s never been unfriendly to RJ, but these past several days, she’s seemed more on edge, more prone to sarcastic retorts, less willing to make peace between them and Patel- Arkady. RJ had believed that her patience was slowly fraying, that like the rest of the crew, she was only willing to put up with the new additions to the ship for a certain amount of time and that she’d stop pretending before long. But now, taking in Violet’s looser posture, the way some of the lines around her eyes and mouth have eased, RJ realises it had never had anything to do with them. Violet had been worried about the supplies. About her… medical emergency.

Speaking of supplies… “Did Park tell you what we wanted to add to the list?” RJ asks, figuring they’d better add a bit of verisimilitude to the excuse that Park had used to speak to RJ alone.

Violet’s smile widens. “He did. I definitely agree about replenishing our coffee supplies – though, I don’t know what kind of quality you’re used to, because I should warn you that the black market kind – the affordable black market kind, anyway – is pretty bad. We get non-freeze-dried coffee whenever we can, but out here…” Violet shrugs as if to say, ‘Beggars can’t be choosers’.

RJ manages to suppress a wince at the term “black market”. This is your life, now, RJ, they remind themself for the thousandth time. “That’s okay. The stuff in the IGR breakrooms was basically dreck. I can drink pretty much anything.” RJ is no coffee lover, but they drink it for the caffeine. Pretty much everyone in the Republic has a caffeine addiction or develops one at some point – no way to get through eighteen-hour shifts without it.

Violet chuckles a little. “It was always the same at my lab internships. I guess bad breakroom coffee is pretty universal.”

RJ recognises that she’s trying to bond with them by referencing shared experiences of working for the Republic. It’s not the first time she’s done it. But RJ still has trouble seeing their circumstances as equivalent.

Violet is – had been – a scientist, not an Agent; not one of the IGR’s most loyal, tasked with the defence of the Republic. She’d never had access to classified briefings; hadn’t dedicated her life to tracking down and apprehending insurgent forces. And given that the Rumor crew had deceived her into entering the cryo chamber, she could argue that she’d been duped – and had only co-operated in order to save her own life. Well, the argument would hold water up until Elion, anyway.

It wasn’t the same.

The silence hangs for a few moments, before RJ prompts her, “Did you want to… ask me something?”

“Sorry, yes – I came to tell you that dinner’s ready and uh, we’re about to eat in the mess hall if you’d like to join us.” Violet smiles again, with a touch of nervousness this time. No doubt she’s expecting a caustic brush-off.

“Is it veggie stew?” RJ can’t help asking, with a slight nose wrinkle. They’re expecting a rebuke from Violet, some kind of warning about being grateful for what they have, but instead she laughs.

“Unfortunately. On the bright side, though, it’s only for a couple more days and then we’ll be able to have actual flavourings again.”

RJ almost smiles, and is surprised when they catch themself. And – they were going to decline, make an excuse about continuing their nap, because they’re still feeling off-kilter and they doubt that Arkady will be thrilled to be spending time in close quarters with them so soon, but – they think about Park’s talk with them in the hallway. About how they’ve spent the past few weeks dodging any kind of connection with the rest of the crew, anything that will put them past, in RJ’s mind, the point of no return – and where exactly that’s got them.

“Sure,” says RJ. “Just let me, uh…”

They put a hand up to their hair, realising that it must be sticking up in all directions after their nap. Short hair is gratifyingly easy to take care of, but it sure does have interesting ideas about gravity.

“I have a comb you can borrow, if you need it?” Violet offers.

“It’s fine,” RJ declines automatically. “Park-”

They catch themself, wondering why it feels like such a concession to accept even this tiny piece of help from someone other than Park. They think about their bare room, empty of any personal possessions.

“I’m okay right now,” they say slowly. “But… is it too late to add something to the shopping list?”

Violet blinks, clearly surprised, and then smiles brightly. “Not at all.”

---

Five minutes later, hair tamed and clothes straightened, RJ makes their way towards the mess hall, which adjoins the kitchen. They haven’t spent much time in here so far – there’d been a couple of communal dinners at first, which quickly gave way to the reality of shifts ending at disparate times and the need to simply grab food however and whenever people could, something RJ had been grateful for.

Once, on their way to the kitchen, they’d walked in on Violet and Arkady having what looked like a picnic at the table in the centre of the room, just the two of them. That had been awkward for everyone. Since then, RJ has taken to finding their food and snacks at times when they know most of the crew are otherwise occupied.

Everyone else is already there and making more noise than you would think a group of six people could generate. Brian is in the kitchen, ladling bland servings of stew into the uniform polypropylene bowls that they’d found stacked inside the cupboards. Krejjh stands next to him, loudly enthusing about the virtues of the stew to anyone within earshot. Violet and Sana are waiting to be served, while Arkady – who has just been handed a full bowl by Brian – rolls her eyes and makes sarcastic comments as she carries it through to the mess hall. There, Park is sitting in one of the bolted-down chairs, watching the whole scene with a slightly raised eyebrow and waiting, if RJ had to guess, for the general hubbub to die down before he goes to get his food.

RJ pads over and slides into the chair on the same side as Park’s good eye. Park turns his head slightly, giving them a quick once-over, almost too brief to catch. “Hi,” he says quietly. “How was your nap?”

RJ hesitates over what to say. “It helped,” they reply. “Park, can we… talk? After dinner?”

The tiniest of frowns creases Park’s forehead. “Sure,” he says. “Everything all right?”

RJ nods, drumming their fingers on the tabletop and meeting Violet’s gaze as she comes over to sit next to Arkady, giving RJ a friendly smile. They don’t quite return it, but… it’s not as unwelcome as it would have been, before.

“Yeah,” they say to Park. “It’s fine.”

[blogger360ncislarules]

Warning: The following contains major spoilers for Zoey’s Extraordinary Playlist. Proceed at your own risk!

Oh, how the tables have turned! Zoey’s Extraordinary Playlist wrapped up its second season on Sunday with a heart song — but this time, it was Zoey doing the singing! And on the receiving end of her musical declaration of love was Max, who could suddenly hear Zoey’s heart song!

Prior to that cliffhanger, Zoey and Simon had split up, and then the titular gal got a dream visit from her dad, who encouraged her to take risks and really live life. So Zoey decided to rush to the airport to stop Max from leaving for New York City with Rose. But when she got there, she heard Max sing “When a Man Loves a Woman” and left without saying a word, assuming the tune was about Rose. However, when Max unexpectedly showed up at the park where Zoey was sitting forlornly, it was obvious the ode was about her.

Max explained that he and Rose broke things off because they could both tell his mind was on someone else. Then as Zoey declared that she was all in, she started to break out in a rousing performance of Modern English’s “I Melt With You,” shocking a bewildered Max.

Below, showrunner Austin Winsberg breaks down the big powers twist and what it means for Max and Zoey’s romantic future. (And for the latest intel on Zoey’s Season 3 odds, keep tabs on our 2021 Renewal Scorecard.)

TVLINE | What excited you about this twist with the powers and what it opens up for a potential Season 3? I’m always trying to think of new ways that we can twist and spin and do new things with the powers. We had talked about this pretty early on in Season 1, the idea of Max getting the powers at some point. Certainly, when you think of superhero origin stories, there seems like there’s always a place in the superhero shows where they find somebody else who also has powers. So we liked the idea of being able to do our own version of that.

But the other thing that we had really established a lot in Season 1, especially in Season 2, as well, was this idea that Max feels like there’s an inequality in their relationship, because Zoey has the ability to hear what’s going on in his heart, in his brain, and he doesn’t get to do the same with her. I think in any relationship in life, there needs to be some degree of equality in order for the relationship to work. So just in terms of thinking how could Zoey and Max work long-term, for me, it was important for Max to have an understanding of what it’s like for Zoey to experience heart songs. And I also like the idea that Max could know what’s going on in Zoey’s head as well. And certainly, from a romantic comedy perspective, to be able to play stories where these two people are in a relationship, but they also know exactly what the other person is thinking about, felt like ripe ground for storylines.

TVLINE | To clarify, both Max and Zoey have powers at the end of the finale? Or is it that the powers have transferred from Zoey over to Max? I don’t want to clarify that entirely yet.

TVLINE | Zoey is sometimes a guarded person. So how will this impact her, and how will she feel about Max having all this insight into her? That’s all stuff to explore in Season 3. But I certainly think that it opens up a whole new area of stories to tell, stories about him experiencing heart songs, stories about her having to help him with heart songs, stories about him hearing her heart songs and what that means for their relationship. It just adds new interesting layers of complexity and complication.

TVLINE | Zoey’s heart song was so exuberant, so joyous and free. Were there other songs that were in consideration for that moment, or was it always “I Melt With You”? For some reason, that was the song I kept going back to. Obviously, there are a lot of love songs out there. We might have danced around a few others. But it just always felt right to me. It felt right for Jane [Levy’s] voice. I liked the idea that the first song we ever heard in the pilot was “It’s the End of the World as We Know It,” and this song [goes], “l’ll stop the world and melt with you.” I thought there was some nice bookend world specificity to both of those. I liked that she said, “Making love to you was never second best,” after the whole Zoey/Simon/Max of it all. There was just something about it that felt very right to me, so I stuck to that one pretty quickly.

TVLINE | Speaking of the whole Zoey/Simon/Max of it all, talk to me about Zoey’s choices with regards to Simon and Max in this episode. What went into the thinking behind those decisions? When I mapped out the arc of the season, from the very beginning, I wanted to make sure that Zoey wasn’t indecisive and vacillating between both guys and not making moves in either direction. So I really felt like what was going to frustrate audiences with this idea of Zoey not picking either one. And so we made a conscious choice that I thought was a bold choice for her to choose Max at the end of Episode 1, and for them to at least try to do that and sort of realize pretty quickly that it’s still too early in her grief for her to really be ready for a relationship.

I did feel like because of the dynamic that had been created between Zoey and Simon, and the chemistry between them, I felt like that Zoey really needed to play that out in some way. And we found as we were breaking Episodes 9, 10 and 11, and dealing with the relationship stuff between Zoey and Simon, that there was a fundamental thing that she was keeping from him, which is telling him about the powers. I think that she was afraid to really open up to him that way and afraid of what that might mean, especially since their entire way that they met in the pilot was predicated on a little bit of deception in some way. I think she just didn’t feel like she could be open with him or wanted to be open with him in that way, and then the power kept getting in the way of things between them. It just felt like they were both trying really hard to make it work. So I liked the idea of exploring something where the fantasy of it or the expectation of it is maybe not as rewarding or fulfilling for either of them when they’re actually in it. It was always leading to this place, for me, that Zoey and Simon were going to break up at the end of the season, and then to see how it played out with her and Max.

It was just important to me to not make Simon feel like the victim in it, to not hurt Simon. That’s why I wanted him to be the one to say, “I think we should break up,” and then to also give Simon his own victories in the episode [as the boss of SPRQ Point’s new minority-run acquisition], because we’ve seen Simon at his depths of despair in Season 1, and I didn’t want to end in that way. I wanted to end him in a more positive, forward-facing place and feeling like he’s excited about the future.

TVLINE | Between the breakup with Simon and Zoey, and Zoey’s declaration to Max at the end, is it safe to say the love triangle is officially concluded, and moving forward, it’s about Zoey and Max giving it a real try? Certainly, my intentions going forward are that she and Max are going to try to make it work in a real way. And I don’t have intentions to uproot that or implode that, but it’s also TV storytelling. You have to create complications and challenges in relationships. Otherwise, if there’s no conflict, you don’t have a show. But certainly, my intention moving forward is to approach Zoey and Max dating and being together in a meaningful way, for them to try to work out their differences and their challenges together.

TVLINE | It seemed like a very deliberate and mature choice to have Zoey come to the airport and not stand in the way of Max and Rose. But then it ends up being on Max to make the first move. So how did you come to the conclusion that that’s the way the chain of events needed to go? In the spirit of not wanting to pit women against women or men against men, and what that would actually look like if you approached someone outside of the airport and said, “Pick me over her,” it’s pretty dramatic. I also felt like there was a delightful mislead that she hears him sing “When a Man Loves a Woman,” and she thinks that’s about Rose, and fundamentally, Max’s happiness is what’s more important to Zoey, and she doesn’t want to take that away from him. And so even though the reveal at the end is that he was actually singing that song about Zoey, I think that Zoey and Max have always had the other person’s best interest in mind, as evidenced when he gave up the job for her in the last episode. So I think for her, that was that wakeup call moment, where his happiness was more important to her than maybe her own loss in that moment.

TVLINE | You set up a really wonderful romance for Mo this season. Is there anything you can hint about what we could expect in a Season 3, if that goes forward? Part of the design of the season was to wrap up certain chapters in these characters’ lives or at least put some conclusion on it, but also set the path forward for everybody. And for me, I’m really excited about Mo and Perry. I think David St. Louis has been a great addition to the cast as Perry. I’m really excited to see what it looks like for Mo to be in a real adult relationship, but also to be in a complicated adult relationship with kids and an ex-husband, and the prospect of a character who is kind of an independent, free character getting brought into a domestic life, and maybe getting a little bit more than he bargained for, kind of insta-family. There’s a lot of opportunity for comedy and drama within that.

And I’m really excited for the next chapter for Maggie, too, and this idea of Maggie, potentially, slowly dipping her toes back into the dating world… The idea of Maggie and Deb as partners in crime, and Maggie exploring the idea of how a woman of a certain age, what it actually looks like for her to try to go back into the dating world in a meaningful way, I think there are a lot of stories we can derive from that.

[savannahstanfield27]

Retrospective on Huey Laforet and Firo Prochainezo

Hey all, 

So this is going to be a digression on why I believe that Huey and Firo are the dual main characters of Baccano, and also describing their similarities and differences. This is just my opinion of course, I bet everyone has different interpretations of who the main character is. 

Nevertheless, this is going to be very long, so I’m going to include a cut so that I don’t take up a ton of space on anyone’s dash. Warning for spoilers for the entire series (anime/light novels/light novel/drama cd/etc) throughout this post.

Primary Point 

Firo and Huey are two very important characters in the world of Baccano. Firo, a member of the Martillo Family, and Huey, immortal terrorist and scientist. If it weren’t for the additions of the 1700′s and 2000′s arcs I wouldn’t have come to this conclusion, but they only solidified my point. To me, the story of Baccano exists to tell the story of Huey and Firo, how they grow as people, how they struggle, and how their interactions with other characters changes them. 

I won’t go into detail on each and every interaction they have, if you’ve watched the show or read the novels, you most likely already grasp what I’m saying. I’m going to focus on Huey’s relationships with Monica and Elmer, and Firo’s relationships to the Martillo Family, Ennis, and the Gandors/Claire. They interact with most of the characters in the novels at some point, but I believe these are the most significant to their character development, 

Firo and Huey are sometimes two sides of the same coin, sometimes they’re complete opposites. I intend to explore these points in this post. 

Adolescent Years

Alright, so first I’d like to start off talking in length about Firo and Huey’s adolescence. Huey presumably loses his father at a young age, there is not a lot of development on that front. His mother is executed by drowning in front of him. This obviously takes a toll on Huey, as by his mother he was described as “innocent” prior to this incident. Firo, on the other hand, describes never knowing his father as he died before he was born. Firo’s mother dies of tuberculosis before he reaches 10 years of age

In Huey’s case, he develops a hatred for the world around him and he desires the destruction of it. He copes with his loss by being consumed by anger and negative emotions. Huey is taken in by Dalton and he becomes an alchemist. You could call this a “found family,” but Huey doesn’t have much of a connection to them. The other students in the alchemy class gossip about him, and Huey puts on fake airs to seem well adjusted. 

Huey does eventually gain a core group of friends: Monica and later Elmer. You could add Niki to this list as she is also part of the group but she was always an outlier to me. Huey never opened up to her. He tries to keep Monica away from him and reacts to Elmer’s kindness with open hatred. However, he eventually grows to trust them and they are the two people he is about to rely on and feel compassion for. They form the Mask Makers, an organization specializing in illegal activity. I prefer to call this Huey’s “found family,” rather than Dalton and the other alchemists. 

Now let’s discuss Firo. He lives only to survive after his mother’s death, pick-pocketing on the streets of Manhattan. I’ll be discussing his relationship with the Gandors and Claire at length later, so I will not include it here. We haven’t been given a lot of information on how Firo copes with his Mother’s death, that I can find. Please enlighten me if you know and I’ll edit the post with your contribution. 

Firo eventually is taken in by the Martillo family. You could say Maiza is like an older brother figure to him, and the Don Martillo a father figure. They are also an illegal organization, and they make Firo feel welcome and needed. Rather than pushing away from those who care about him, like Huey, he embraces those who care about him. Firo is someone who yearns to belong. Firo spends a lot of his childhood comparing himself to his friends, but I will be taking that into account in a different section. 

While Huey and Firo grow up in similar situations, it is the result of what happens after that changes them. They both find a core group of people to support them. In Firo’s case, he retains many feelings of inferiority but he continues to become his own person, relying well on his family and friends. Huey is only willing to open up to a few people, and after Monica is taken from him, he loses any interest in opening himself up again. Firo grows forward as a person, yet Huey regresses backwards. 

Feelings on Death

I’ve already described how Huey coped with his mother’s death, but now I’d like to talk about Monica. Monica was Huey’s lover, whom he finally was able to open up to after so long. Her death caused him to shut down as a person. He is not the same man after he returns to Lotto Valentino. That emotional void in him is the only way he can cope with her death, as well as striving to complete his fruitless goal of meeting with her again. He feels guilt towards both of these deaths, as he describes to Victor in 1931. 

Sometimes, when Huey thinks of his happier memories with his lost family, his face seems to brighten and open up a little. He quickly shuts that down in favor of treating the situation like an experiment. He even ponders to Victor in 1931 about if there is a scientific way to discover which is his worst memory. He copes by not coping in the slightest. (Because of this, I both yearn and fear for his reaction to meeting Luchino hopefully in 2003)

Huey seems unfazed by his own possible death. The only time I can find him actually voicing an opinion about it is when Firo attacks him in 1934. He doesn’t seem to possess fear or regret, only interest in his lack of foresight that this might occur. 

Firo has not had to cope with much death in his life. Many of his friends are immortal, as well as his Martillo family. However, the outlier here is Claire Stanfield. Claire has always been the person Firo saw as above him, and in 1936 he stops to ponder on what would happen if Claire died. Claire will die eventually. Firo knows he is going to have to cope with that. The thought makes his chest tighten, and he decides not to think about it, because he cannot imagine a world that Claire is not in. 

Firo deals with his anxieties about death by feeling denial here. He decides he just won’t think about it. On his own death, in 1934, Ladd Russo acknowledges with glee that Firo still fears his own death, he does not view himself as an invincible and strong being. 

Both Huey and Firo possess equally bad coping mechanisms when it comes to losing their loved ones. They both choose to deny and forget. Huey becomes obsessed with the denial, spending his entire life trying to gain the knowledge to meet Monica again. This causes his subsequent emotional detachment, and lack of interest in his own possible death. Firo, on the other hand, possesses immortality but still fears his own death. When thinking on the possible deaths of others, he prefers to put it out of his mind. 

Feelings on Love

In regards to love, Huey runs from it and struggles to embrace it. I’m speaking in a romantic sense, I should preface. Huey finds it difficult to comprehend that he might have some sort of feelings for Monica. He can’t fathom that someone managed to make an impression on him. He tries desperately to run from this feeling and deny it, but eventually he ends his struggles and embraces his love for Monica. 

With familial love, Huey does not feel any of it. He does not value his daughters in an emotional way. They are merely tools for him to achieve his goals. He will tell them anything, especially in Leeza’s case, in order to appease them or to make them more loyal to him. Chane and Leeza possess complete and utter loyalty and devotion towards Huey, but he does not return it. (on that note i’d love to do a future post on Hilton and her relationships with Chane and Huey)

Firo runs towards love. He sees Ennis and immediately becomes infatuated enough to follow her. He falls hard and fast. There is no denial on his part. Firo finds it easy to open up to people, as a social being, but he does struggle to speak his feelings to Ennis. It did take fifty years for them to get married after all. Though he has embraced his love for Ennis, Firo finds it hard to tell her, and instead shows it by all the things he does for her. 

With familial love, Firo has a fierce loyalty to the Martillo family. They are “home” to him. Especially in regards to Maiza, who can be seen as an older brother figure, he is completely loyal. This can be compared to his relationship to the Gandors, three brothers who shared the same apartment building with him in his childhood. He cares for them enough to help them, a rival family, in 1927. His loyalty to the Martillos only swells when Molsa praises him for helping his “family.”

I also think it’s a great parallel of Melvi Dormentaire kidnapping Ennis and the 1700′s Dormentaires holding Monica. They are both on a boat after all. Both Huey and Firo experience helplessness when they realize what has happened to the women they love. However, they immediately jump right on track to figuring out how to save her. This is a great example of Firo expressing guilt. He often feels down when he cannot help those he cares about, like he failed them. Huey is the same way about the situation with Monica. He was so close...and then he lost her..

Relationships with Close Friends

I’m going to focus on Huey’s relationships with Elmer and Fermet. In regards to Elmer, Huey views him as his one true friend. Though in his youth, he hated Elmer and tried to stay away from him, they eventually became friends and Huey was able to open up to him. Even without seeing him for 300 years, Huey still thinks about Elmer and keeps his promises to him. This is why Huey does not hurt “innocents,” because it would make Elmer sad. 

Huey often references Elmer and his worldviews during conversation, which causes him to actually express emotion. Elmer managed to touch Huey as a person and this deeply affects him as a person. Both Huey and Elmer can relate on both an emotional and intellectual level, they understand each other well even in their youth. 

I’m not sure how well this point will come across to everyone, but I’ve always viewed Fermet as Huey’s “Claire,” in regards to Firo. Fermet is also an intellectual genius. He is the person who managed to take everything away from Huey, for seemingly no reason. However, they manage to collaborate on their research later on. This is merely my personal interpretation, but I believe that Huey does have a slight inferiority complex in regards to Fermet, and that he does not like having to rely on the same person who took everything from him for help with research. I’d love to hear anyone else’s opinion on this!

Firo possesses a deep inferiority complex when it comes to the Gandors and Claire. He has always viewed them as one step ahead of him. Especially in the case of Claire, Firo views him as successful in regards to his confidence in love and in his own abilities. Firo compares himself to Claire throughout his life, almost treating him like an idol or mentor at times. He feels insecure, such as in 1927, when Claire’s own abilities surpass his. He does not like to feel useless or unneeded. 

In regards to the Gandors, specifically in the case of Luck, Firo views him as the perfect “gangster” and as someone who has always been ahead of him. Compared to the Gandors, he sees himself as the inferior child. Luck is not that much older than Firo, but he possesses much more emotional maturity and restraint, something Firo finds it hard to come to terms with at times. 

Firo idolizes the “true mafioso” figure and he wants to be like that, which is how he views the Gandors as. Many of his friendships stem from insecurity and inferiority. He wants to make it on his own, without having to rely on his family (The Gandors). 

Personality

In his youth, Huey was much less reckless. He proceeded with caution and did not like to get involved in most situations. This is demonstrated when he decides to ignore Niki being attacked in Lotto Valentino. He is forced by the situation to fight the attackers, but it is implied that he doesn’t possess much strength or technique on the subject of fighting physically. 

(I will add that Huey is noted as looking feminine by various characters such as Elmer, but it does not seem to faze him that much)

Huey has an enthralling personality as he ages. He is manipulative by nature and will stoop to any level to get what he wants. He tends to speak in a detached manner, but outwardly he is very pleasant and polite (similar to his facade from his youth). His manipulative techniques have caused many people to fall victim to his spell, increasing his amount of subordinates and allies. 

Huey’s primary goal is to meet Monica again, and to obtain the knowledge to do such. He lives by researching and doing experiments, learning more about humans and why they do what they do. He views humans as “raw materials,” and their only use to him is to further his experiments. Huey is a very detached person from the world. 

Firo is extremely reckless throughout his life. There are many examples one could place here: pick pocketing a Mafia Executive as a child, following Ennis, rescuing Barnes, etc. Firo is always ready to jump into the situation at hand. He is friendly and sociable, but can be very irritable and negative when the mood strikes him. His sharp temper and bluntness do mellow with age, but they are at their worst in the early 1930′s. 

Firo has many issues with femininity and his “babyface,” which most likely stem from a childhood incident in which he was kidnapped and mistaken for a young girl. He is insecure about this and will strike back at anyone who messes with him for it, except for Claire. 

Firo is not outwardly manipulative and cruel, but gaining the trust and help of others does come easy to him. In 2002, Ennis says this on Firo: “ Firo was really very good at getting people to do what he wanted without telling them the important things. Actually, to be precise, he was good at making them want to help him.” 

Firo and Huey both possess the type of personalities that make it easy to manipulate others, whether knowingly or unknowingly. They make others want to believe them and help them out. Firo is much more blunt and emotional than Huey in the 1900′s, but I do find 1700′s Huey quite similar to Firo, especially in his emotional angry outbursts to Elmer. 

Relationship to Knowledge/ Meeting in 1934/35

Huey’s relationship to knowledge is simple, he wants to know more in order to keep his promise with Monica. Huey views himself as a scientist and as a researcher. He pursues knowledge and wishes to obtain it. When he meets Firo in 1934, he questions him about having all the knowledge that Szilard has accumulated. He wonders if that changes the subject as a person. Huey is greatly intrigued by the ways that other people act. 

Firo never finished school, and he does not consider himself intellectually smart. After devouring Szilard he is consumed with memories of many alchemists, and a vast amount of knowledge is now at his disposal. He grows worried that the memories will consume him and that he will become just as bad as Szilard. He fears the knowledge that he possesses, preferring not to look into it. He doesn’t seem to understand why it interests Huey so much. 

Their meeting, first in 1934, astounded me when I first read it. The way Firo reacted to Huey was much like how Huey reacted to Elmer (this is a digression...) They are two characters who grew through similar circumstances, one becoming more of a person, one becoming less of a person. Firo runs from knowledge, Huey yearns for it. Firo embraces the love and support of others, Huey uses it for his own needs. But they both retain that key element of living and dying for someone else. 

Huey is living to find Monica. Firo is living for his Family. Both possess flaws and strengths. As for their meeting in 1935, we don’t know the full details yet but I cannot wait to find out what they were cooking up behind closed doors. 

Conclusion

I fully believe that Huey and Firo were destined to be the main characters of Baccano. Their stories grow and change as they interact with others and are affected by them. Think back on Maiza’s quote “maybe every encounter is some sort of miracle in it’s own way.” Huey and Firo change throughout every single arc, for better or for worse. 

The 1700′s arc is about Huey’s adolescence, and about how he loses his humanity because of tragedy. But we are also able to see how he was once a much different man, and his personal relationships with the few he decides to let in. 

The 1930′s arc presents Firo, someone who is neither destined to be hero nor villain. His inferiority complex clashes with his deep need to help those he cares about. With every interaction- Ennis, Czes, Maiza, Christopher, Isaac and Miria, Melvi- he grows as a person. He learns and develops. Huey has regressed in the 1930′s, and we are seeing how he coped with the events of the 1700′s. And everything comes to a head when they meet in 1934, and when the tragedy of Monica’s capture seems to repeat itself in 1935. 

The 2000′s arc shows a much more refined Firo. He’s retained many of his good qualities from his adolescence, but he has grown to be much more kind and understanding. Of course, he worries (”can i really be a family man?”) he messes up, he acts reckless even. But he has matured into someone who his friends and family can be proud of. He should be proud of himself. I’ll leave my thoughts on 2000′s Huey for when 2003: epilogue is released. 

If you made it this far, thank you for reading my ramblings. I’ve been a fan for a long time, but with no outlet to share these thoughts other than my dear friends, so it feels nice to let them out once in a while. 

[inosuketingz]

the sheets are stained with blood [p.2]

( gif source rafikecoyote )

PART ONE [ PART TWO ] PART THREE PART FOUR Victor Zsasz x fem!Reader Warning: swearing, mentions of sex, violence, blood, spoilers for Birds of Prey Word Count: 1980 A/N: I promise I am not dead I just disappeared. I do plan on extended this fic to like far off places so if you want me to tag you in upcoming parts, feel free to ask!

 Victor’s knife digs deeper into your neck and you groan. His face isn’t an inch away from yours, his breath able to tickle your nose. 

 “I’ve got a special place on my back for you, Night Hex,” Zsasz insists. You roll your eyes. People only started to call Night Hex after your first few encounters with Wonder Woman. It just so happened that they all occurred during the night, and now you’re stuck with that shit hole of a super villain name. 

 You grab onto his arm and he instinctively tries to jerk it away, but your grip is tight as you chant “Mutanter et nos, mutanter et nos, mutanter et nos.” One of the first spells you ever learned- it allows you to swap positions with whoever is in your grasp.

 In the blink of an eye, you are standing where Zsasz stood, holding his knife into his neck. For a second a look of shock and confusion crosses his face until that shit-eating grin returns. 

“Spooky,” he mocks you.

 “I hate to rain on your parade, Mr. Zsasz, but I’m not in the mood to be another one of your slaughter animals.” You pull back, making sure to keep the weapon on you. “Maybe next time, though.”

  He doesn’t move from the wall and you watch him watch you, waiting for him to say something. You two share a moment of silence, VIctor staring you down with hooded eyes.

 You aren’t sure if you should get nervous right now. You could easily overpower him with one one of the plethora of spells you know. But, it’s not like you’re immortal or anything. All it takes is for him to grab the nearest sharp object to gut you- and you’re a goner. 

 “Why the hell are you here?” You question and quickly add “And how the hell did you get into my apartment?” 

 Again, he doesn’t say anything. Instead, you watch him reach into the back pockets of his dress pants and you immediately slam his knife into his shoulder before he can pull anything out. A small, but joyful smile forms on your lips as you stare down at him. Your strength is in your witchcraft, not weapons. When your instinct led you to shove the knife into Zsasz’s skin, you were only about 50% sure you were strong enough to actually hurt him. 

 He looks  up at you as he pulls the object out of him. “You didn’t even let me answer, bitch.” And then he tries to lunge at you. Again- you are a witch. Not a weapons-master nor a body builder. From what you’ve heard about Zsasz, his strength is impressive for a normal human. One punch from him could knock you out. 

 Since you started practicing your witchcraft after turning 18, you found out there were a lot of pros and cons that came with it. Pros are; with the right spell, potion, ritual, or object- you are capable of doing practically anything. Cons are; these things take time. So in cases where a psycho is attacking you with a knife, and you don’t have time to say a three-line spell, you have to act from the top of your head. Usually not the best idea.

 And, in this scenario, as Zsasz’s hand’s only a little a couple of inches away from your face, your brain tells you to raise your leg and slam your foot on his groin as hard as you can. The chunky platform heels you’re wearing help with the effort. 

 Victor stumbles back, dropping the knife to cup his crotch in pain. You lurch for the weapon the second it slips out of his hand and shove Zsasz to the ground, straddling chest as his back hits the floor to keep him from moving. 

 Maybe dealing with Wonder Woman these past few years has its perks.

 Holding the knife up in warning, you repeat yourself “What do you want, Victor?”

 Again, he smiles. “So, you really don’t remember me, huh?” He, again, changed the subject. 

 “What?” You lowered your arm in confusion. “The fuck are you talking about?” A man like VIctor Zsasz is not one you could forget. But, he doesn’t let it go.

 “I mean, sure, it was a couple of years ago, but c’mon. I wasn’t that bad, was I?” He’s amused as he speaks. He knows the more ambiguity he says, the deeper he gets under your skin.

 You watch him chuckle and narrow your eyes in thought. Admittedly, your history is a long and fanatical one. Maybe you did come across Zsasz one time or another.

It's when he continues his monologue that the bulb in your brain finally lights up. “What was the name they gave you? Cosima or some shit?” 

 You struggle to come up with a reply. Cosima? In the least cliche way; you haven’t heard that name in years. Victor laughs at the shocked look on your face. “You do remember!” He feigns appreciation.

 Your parents never took too great of a liking to you. As they raised you and your twin sister, with the knowledge that only offspring becomes a witch, it was clear that they wanted that witch to be the latter, Talia. You couldn’t blame them, of course. You were a little shit, constantly hanging with the wrong crowds and causing chaos around the city. And then, you inherited the powers. They were angry about it. A month later Talia went missing. They became angrier.

 Their favoritism never really bothered you, and you and your sister were actually quite close. You didn’t take your sister’s disappearance well. What started as you stealing a few things from the corner store as a kid turned into sex, drugs, high theft, and more. 

 So, they kicked you out. For the first few months, you couch hopped from friend’s house to friend’s house. At this time, you had almost no experience with magic, so scamming your way through life using witchcraft wasn’t an option. Then, one of your friends proposed a job offer. She worked as a dancer at a gentlemen's club where there happened to be an opening. 

 Workers also got free housing, so you took the friend on her offer. You never imagined that you’d work as a stripper, but at that point- you were desperate for anything. 

 Rich men from all over the world came to the club, one of them being the rich Gotham entrepreneur Vikram Zsasz. He was well into his 40’s and brought with him a couple of employees for his company- as well as his 25 year old son, Victor Zsasz. 

 It was so hard to draw a connection to the Victor who lays cackling on your hardwood floor to the fresh-faced young man who visited that day. He was a completely different person, you wouldn’t have ever remembered it was him had he not mentioned it. 

 The younger Zsasz moved with energy and pride, like some arrogant frat boy. He was attractive, as he still is, with clear skin that lacked the tally marks that plague him now. When your boss escorted you and a few other girls to host the group of men, he was chugging a glass of scotch like juice, his platinum blonde hair styled in a messy side part. 

 You remember his attention always being on you as you sat with the party. You never thought much of it since there was always men and women lusting over you while you danced. His eyes watched you with adoration, unlike the disturbing leers he gives you now.

 You would have declined his offer when he asked you to spend the night with him had he been anyone else. But, he was hot and you were horny so you accepted.

 He was equally as cocky in bed as he was at the gentlemen’s club. He kept telling you to “lay back and let him do all the work”, something you didn’t have a problem with since it wasn’t like you planned on doing shit anyway. He attacked your pussy like he hadn’t eaten in days. The feeling of his tongue swirling against your clit and his fingers deep inside of you had you pulling at his hair. 

 When he inserted himself inside of you, you remember that he was rough. He took you from behind first and held you by your neck as he continuously ordered you to call him “Daddy” and praise his work on you. 

 For about two hours, all that filled the hotel room were your moans, his groans and the sound of your skin slapping against each other. 

 Your face warms and you feel yourself growing wet from the thought. You don’t even notice when he placed his hands on your thighs. 

 “Guess I wasn’t so bad after all, witch.” His voice pulls you out of your thoughts and you’re reminded that the Victor you’re straddling isn’t the boy from your memories. 

 He’s an insane serial killer whose body count of corpses ascends over the Wayne Tower . A devil who lurks the streets of Gotham. One ready to take the lives of any that come too close to him, including you.

 You push yourself off of him. “Don’t call me that, dickhead.” 

 “What else should I call you? My little slut?” He sits up on his elbows and smiles when you roll your eyes. “Or maybe a fucking cocksucker? That’s what you are anyway-”

 “If you’re not here to kill me, stop wasting my time,” you cut him off. He’s trying to get into your head, with his twisted teasing and reminders. You’re not in the mood for any of it. 

  He glances at the stab wound on his shoulder. It wasn’t too deep, but his printed Versace dress shirt is stained with blood. “What, you’re not gonna help with Daddy’s wounds?” He taunts you.

~ ~ ~

 Zsasz moans in comfort as he slips into the bath. His arm was stiff since you actually did wrap his gash on his shoulder. You made sure you tied it too tight, so much so that it almost cut the circulation off his arms. But that didn’t matter. It’s the fact that you did it which he cares so much about it.

 He picks his phone from the pockets of his pants which he tossed on the bathroom floor while getting undressed. He opens the photo app and taps on an untitled folder. In it are images of you, ranging from low quality helicopter shots of your encounters with Wonder Woman to pictures he snapped of you from your apartment window without you knowing.

 When he saw you that day at the club, he was immediately fascinated with your looks. When he returned to Gotham, you were all that took up his mind. He was obsessed, but he lost you. You were hours away, in the dangerous parts of Boston without anyone to watch over you. 

 His parents died a few months after his encounter with you. After that, his depression led him to the gambling addiction where he lost it all to Oswald Cobblepot. He was ready to end it all when he met Roman. By then, he almost forgot about you until your face showed up on nationwide news one day as everyone dubbed you Wonder Woman’s new foe.

 He zooms in on a photo he had taken of you in the shower. Your breasts were nearly in full view, if it wasn’t for the stupid fucking plant you had in there that blocked much of the window. Zsasz smiles.

 He’s lost everything. He lost his parents in the car accident. He lost his fortune in the Gotham casino. He lost Roman to that bitch, Harley Quinn. He’s lost everything. Everything except you.

[magicjesuscup]

How would the KoTR react to Gray from Lord El-Melloi Case Files(don’t answer if you haven’t heard or watched)

I got two of these, so I’m going to delete the other one. I'm also going to say this is after they learn about her past and not them reacting to how she looks. I'm doing it this way because there are so many saber faces I don't think they'd have much of a reaction to a girl who just looks like their king anymore.

I also want to note that I think Gray only ever referred to Waver as "Sir" in the subbed version, so I'll be sticking to that in my response.

Another thing to note: I wrote Arthur/Artoria, Lancer Artoria, and Mordred’s reactions a few days before everyone else’s. So, theirs are kinda in the form of mini fanfiction while the rest are headcanons.

SFW and spoilers for the Lord El-Melloi Case Files.

Arthur/Artoria

Oh. Oh god do they feel guilty about this. The whole reason Gray looked the way she did was because her village was trying to resurrect them!? This poor girl never had a life of her own because she was expected to live as someone else. (No, they don't see this as anything similar to what they experienced when they were alive. They chose to be king; Gray was born into this madness.) They fought so hard so people could live their lives; this isn't what they intended.

"I never would have imagined anyone would rob someone of their life to resurrect me. Forgive me."

Gray shook her head and stared at the ground. "It wasn't all bad. I was able to meet Sir, and because I had Add, I could protect him. And I met a lot of people through him too. Some were strange. Some were kind. But they're all important memories for me, and I wouldn't have them if my childhood had been different."

Hearing that made them feel better. If she wasn't sad over things, why should they be? Still, they were a bit worried about what would happen if her village ever caught up to her.

Lancer Artoria

Artoria looked at Gray with all the confidence and dignity befitting a king. "There are several versions of me running around Chaldea. You are not one of them. The things I left undone and have yet to do are my burden to bear, not yours."

Listening to that calm tone and noting her body language, Gray looked at the floor. She was so shy and timid. "I'm really not like you at all."

"No. You are a failed King Arthur." Artoria put her hand under Gray's chin and tiled her head upward. The look in Artoria's eyes was soft and there was a hint of a smile on her face, "But, you are an exemplary Gray." Artoria dropped her hand. "You need but tend to your own affairs, whatever they may be; I shall handle the rest."

"Pft." A voice under Gray's cloak spoke. "Once and future king my foot!" Gray moved her cloak aside revealing the mystic code, who continued, "Two world wars, Brexit, a handful of pandemics-"

"Rhongomyniad." Artoria's voice was full of authority and her tone carried a warning.

The mystic code fell silent. Gray looked in shock from Add to Artoria. Sheepishly she requested, "I know you'd like me to live for myself, but I'd really like to learn how you did that."

Artoria stifled a chuckle. "I'd be honored to teach you."

"H-Hey!" Add protested. "Don't I get a say in this!?"

Artoria's voice immediately slipped back into its normal deadpan. "No."

Bedivere

Good boy Bedivere is kind, but also acts like the butler she never asked for. She doesn't want to make him feel bad by declining his offers to help her, but it's very strange for her to have someone offering to do things for her. She's kinda used to being the one to run errands and do little tasks. So, instead of accepting his offers, she suggests they do the tasks together instead. They get along well. Bedivere is a people person and conversations come easy to him, which is good since that's not one of Gray's strong suits.

Gawain

Word gets to Gawain that Gray is somehow related to King Arthur. He's kind of excited by this because that means she's his kin too. He's very curious how they're related, but is fairly certain he'll never find out. Documents detailing her family tree either probably don't exist or have been long destroyed. He basically appoints himself her big brother. Of course, he realizes very quickly he can't be rough with her like he was with his brothers/sisters raised to be boys (no wrestling and what not). Luckily, he doesn't have much trouble adapting. He tries to be kind and gentle, but it kinda comes off as weird and creepy?

Gawain: If you ever need a hug, Big Brother Gawain is here. *holds out his arms for emphasis, like he's ready for a hug right now.*

Gray: Oh. Thank you. *is 100% not going to hug him, but appreciates the gesture.*

Lancelot

Okay, so Lancelot had has a body guard crush on Artoria, and this girl is not helping. Sure, he's used to seeing other girls that look like his king running around and acting differently but none of them are this cute(!?). Like, every time Gray's around, he pictures Artoria acting like Gray and then starts smiling like a doofus.

Gray: Sir Tristan, is Sir Lancelot alright? He's had that look on his face for five minutes and he doesn't seem to be aware of anything happening around him.

Tristan: Oh, that's just the face he makes when he's thinking about a pretty girl.

Gray: Are you sure?

Tristan: Yes, he does it a lot; you'll get used to it.

Merlin

Merlin is super torn. Gray is the type that gets flustered pretty easily. People like that are super fun for him to tease, but she also looks too much like Artoria. Every time he looks at her, he's reminded of raising the tiny king until she was five and then popping back in her life to train and advise her. Also, what if he says something lewd to her, she deems him a pervert, and then never speaks to him again!? That would be awful. For now, he'll just treat her the same way he does Saber Lily.

Mordred

Mordred put his hands on his hips. "I don't get why you're bothering with that hood. Do you have any idea how many people here look like father? Nero. Joan of Arc. Okita. Bitch, you ain't special." He noticed Gray turning away from him and decided to switch tactics a bit. "I look just like father too; you think I should hide my face?"

Gray stammered out a, "Well, no-"

"Damn straight I shouldn't." He jerked his thumb towards his face. "This mug is mine. I'm not hiding it anymore, and neither should you."

Gray thought about what Mordred said and slowly removed her hood.

Mordred grinned and slapped her hard on the back a few times. "Look who's balls dropped; good job, kid!"

Tristan

Gray follows Tristan around sometimes, but he doesn't mind. Gawain and Lancelot are acting like complete weirdos, so he's guessing she's just grateful to have found a knight that can act like a normal human being. He's also 100% wrong. Gray is fascinated by Tristan's ability to somehow see with his eyes shut. Her working theory is that he has mystic eyes that let him see through his eyelids and they take such a toll on him they cause him to randomly fall asleep throughout the day. She tags along with him waiting to see some evidence (her experiences with Waver have taught her to always look for proof). Also, Gawain and Lancelot know this, but they're not telling him. Can you blame them? He called them weirdos; they're going to enjoy watching him be wrong!

[ordinaryschmuck]

What I thought about “Young Blood, Old Souls” from The Owl House

Salutations random people of the internet who probably won't read this. I am an Ordinary Schmuck. I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons. Today, I am reviewing the season one finale of The Owl House. And by the way, there are zero dislikes that I have for this episode. Any issues I could have are either petty nitpicks, or just not worth talking about. So, for the first time ever, I'm going to share my thoughts unfiltered. No likes. No dislikes. Just my thoughts on why I think this episode turned out as great as it did. And in case you couldn't guess, there are going to be enormous spoilers for the finale itself, and The Owl House in general. So consider this your last warning as we dive in!

The opening narration: I'm a sucker for fairytale esque opening narrations in stories, and that's the feeling I got when watching this scene. Sure, you could say that it's an exposition dump that tells us stuff we already know, but I don't see it that way. I see it as a technique to set the mood of the episode, while also reminding us how much of a threat the Belos can be.

And again, let's ask ourselves: How much is accurate in this small history lesson, and which parts are made up by Belos? Because who's to say that he isn't the one who wrote the book that King is reading?

No intro: This. Was a shock.

Usually shows shorten the intro to it’s first and last portions, or at the very least, flash the opening logo. Never, to my knowledge, has a series straight-up drop both the intro and the logo. To me, that is a good sign of a great episode. Because no intro tells me that the writers had so much to put in, that they didn't want to waste a single second to even flash a logo.

Not that many jokes: The jokes were another appreciated, albeit well missed, absence within the episode. Because this is the season finale. An event that, depending on what show you make, needs to be taken seriously. And while I say that The Owl House is a comedy show with drama on the side, that doesn't mean it shouldn't focus on the drama if an episode calls for it. And an adventure where Luz has to save her mentor from an emperor who turns people to stone? Yeah. That's an experience where drama has to take center stage for the time being.

Luz is serious and angry: Don't get me wrong. I love Luz for her endless optimism and her ability to find fun in whatever situation she's in. But this is not the type of episode that requires that personality. If anything, I was happier to see Luz act more seriously rather than stick to her quirky personality. Because this proves that Luz isn't some oblivious goofball who can't see the darkness in the world. It shows that she understands when to be serious if the situation calls for it. This also reveals that not only can Luz get angry, but she can get downright vengeful. Her desire to make Lilith pay is not only understandable, but it's absolutely justified. Say what you want about her now, but what Lilith did to Luz in the last episode was awful. So I can't really blame her for getting angry at the mere sight of Lilith.

Now, if Luz were to remain with this angsty personality, then I would be less than ecstatic. But it seems pretty clear to me that angry Luz is a situation-dependent side of her personality that will only come out in the more dramatic episodes. This is evident with the fact that Luz's optimism returns after Eda comes back safe and sound. So while I came to enjoy angry Luz, I'm still going to prefer happy Luz any day.

Owl Beast Eda sticks her tongue out: I love the idea that this was a part of the real Eda shining through, just because the thought of Eda fighting a curse to get under Lilith's skin is just funny to me. And Lilith sticking her tongue out too was just icing on the cake.

Belos’ is still terrifying: That's it. That's all I have to say. We get even more of a glimpse of Belos' power, and it just cements how he's the most terrifying villain that Disney has made in years. Because I saw his fight with Luz (more on that later) as Belos holding back. Which makes me wonder: WHAT THE F**K IS IT GOING TO LOOK LIKE WHEN HE'S ALLOWED TO LET LOOSE?!

And if I'm being honest with you guys, I'm a little scared to find out the answer to that question.

Eda is partially the Owl Beast: This was a cheat, but an effective one. It gives Eda a chance to have actual speaking roles, while also nerfing her, so she doesn't escape. Would it have been more tragic if Eda spent the entire episode as an unintelligent monster? Maybe. But it also means Eda couldn't give Luz the portal (the most important thing in the finale) and not get to say goodbye to Luz (the most gut-wrenching scene in the finale). Say what you want about Eda being partially cursed, but I think it was a smart decision.

We meet Gus’ dad!: This might not seem like a big deal, but I certainly enjoyed it. Hell, I always appreciate it when I get to know more about the lives of characters in my favorite media. And finding out that Gus' dad is a news reporter? That's a nice reveal, even if it's not the most important thing to happen in the show.

Petrification: Sooooo, this is basically the death penalty. Let that sink in for a second. Because the world of this show, that's aimed for children, actually has a death penalty. Sure, the writers don't actually use the d-word. But turning people into stone with no way to turn them back? They might as well be dead at that point. And I actually like that The Owl House is allowed to go this dark. It raises the stakes much higher than any episode once we find out that Eda could die if Luz fails. And that's a thought I'm sure no one appreciates. Especially Luz.

Luz and King stepping on the grass: Hey, there may not be that many jokes in this episode, but that doesn't mean it isn't allowed to be hilarious. And, yeah, this got a huge laugh out of me. Both from how King and Luz look as they commit their "crime," and because of the guard's over-the-top reaction to it. It gets me everytime.

Warden Wrath’s high-pitched scream: Not much to say here other than I just thought it was funny. Because what also gets to me is when a "big scary character" does something pathetic like what Wrath did. And if you didn't hear his scream, go back to play this scene again. It's well worth it.

“Draw me a map!”: I don't know why I love this line so much. Maybe it's because Sarah-Nicole Robles' delivery made me laugh, or because it preemptively shuts up nitpickers who would ask how Luz knew where the detention center is. Either way, this was a great line.

Willow and Gus help...sort of: In the grand scheme of things, Willow and Gus didn't really do that much when helping Luz and Eda. Sure they got a crowd to chant about letting Eda go, but that effort didn't do anything to stop the petrification. Even that brief moment of standing up to the Emperor came to an end the second he showed up. Which means that it's an issue that Willow and Gus didn’t really help Luz, right? 

That would true if it wasn't for the fact that Willow and Gus didn't immediately jump at the idea of backing Luz up if she needs them. That makes these two the perfect best friends that Luz could ask for, solely on that loyalty alone. Would it have been better to see them fight alongside Luz? Maybe, but I doubt Luz would actually want her friends risking everything for her vendetta. Besides, I doubt Willow and Gus would really be that much help compared to how quickly Lilith dismissed both of them in the last episode. So while they get a C for contribution and efficiency, they get an A+ for loyalty in my book.

Eda’s goodbye to Luz: Oh, man. And I thought Eda's goodbye in "Agony of a Witch" was painful. This? This actually got me misty-eyed. And I think the reason why it's more heartbreaking this time around is that Eda is fully showing her emotions in this scene. In my "Agony of a Witch" review, I said that Eda was trying to hide how dire the situation from Luz by smiling and playing the thing off as no big deal. She fails because her eyes and her voice cracks give away all of her feelings, but she still tried nonetheless. This time, however, Eda makes it clear how serious the situation is with both her expressions and tone of voice. Probably because the last time she tried to be gentle with Luz, her apprentice threw herself into the lion's den. So as a result, it comes off as more heartbreaking, given the fact that Eda makes it clear how serious their predicament is. And the fact that she not only says a real goodbye to Luz but practically pushes her away?! Add that with the fact that they share "I love you's" to each other, and you got a scene that just tears at the heartstrings.

Luz crying again: NnnnnnnOPE!!!

I already said that the single image of Luz crying was enough to break me. So seeing her just break down and sob her eyes out is more than enough to hurt the soul, man!

IT HURTS DA SOUL!

“Talk to the glyph, WITCH!”: You know for a FACT that if Luz was allowed to swear, she would use a very similar sounding word to describe Lilith. And I love that implication!

Luz can’t do magic in the human realm: Woah boy! It was one thing when we all predicted it. But to now have visual confirmation that Luz cannot, in fact, do magic in the human realm? Let's just say that adds a whole new level of heartbreak for when Luz has to go home. As well as an overflowing amount of angsty fanfics that plays with that idea.

Lilith’s backstory: ...

*DEEP INHALE*

I will hold off Fredrick Ulisinsburg for now. For. NOW. Because while Lilith's actions are nowhere near justified...it is clear that she does regret her actions. Lilith said it herself. She thought the curse would last for at least a day, and in no way intended for it to be permanent. It's still crappy of her to willingly curse Eda at all, but at least she didn't want her sister to live a life of torture. Plus, there's a sense of tragedy given the fact that Eda wasn't going to fight Lilith anyway. Lilith underestimating how much Eda truly cares must have made the guilt set in even more. And I hope that the show explores that in season two. Because while I think Lilith is on the right track towards redemption, what she did was awful, and I want her to actually earn her forgiveness. Not just hand it out because of a few acts of kindness (more on that later).

(Also bonus points for that foreshadowing with the sharing-the-pain spell. I did not think it would come up again in the way that it did.)

Baby Eda: Must. Protect. Baby. Eda.

Amity’s parents(?): It's yet to be officially confirmed (to my knowledge) that those students in the bleachers are Amity's parents. But if they are, then it's awesome that The Owl House crew snuck this reveal in the finale. They didn't need to do that, but the fact that they did just make schmucks like me happy.

Luz briefly looking out into the forest: So much is said about Luz with just these few short seconds. The fact that she hesitates going back to the Isles tells me that she's wondering if she should. Because right now, Luz has an out. She could say goodbye to her problems and run home to mami, especially given the fact that that's what Eda wants her to do. Except Luz would never do that. Because Luz has proven time and time again that she will not back down when it comes to helping the people she loves. Eda, Willow, Amity. These are all characters that Luz would do anything and everything for if it meant they would be safe. But that doesn't mean she won't briefly get tempted to escape. So while this moment of hesitation shows that Luz can have times of selfishness, her almost immediately running back proves that she will always choose the path of selflessness.

Lilith willing to be a double agent: This was the first sign of Lilith working her way towards redemption. Her willingness to still work for the Emperor's Coven, and to change it from the inside, is pretty admirable. It's almost a shame that she gets caught almost immediately. Because I would have loved to have seen Lilith's attempts to work against the Emperor to protect Luz and Eda from getting arrested. Not only for character growth reasons but because it would actually strengthen her redemption by having Lilith willingly risk everything for the right people.

Luz vs Emperor Belos: I could have never expected this. At least, not so soon. I always assumed Luz would fight Belos at some point, most likely in the series finale. Never would I have expected this confrontation to happen in the first season. And man, oh, man, what a fight! I'm sure some people are gonna complain how easy it was for Luz to fight back, but to those people: I have a few things to point out.

First off, Belos' line of, "I'll play," tells me that he's going easy on Luz. Nothing he does really looks like it would hurt Luz too badly-at least by his standard. And to me, it seems like Belos is treating the fight in a similar way a teenager lets a toddler "challenge" them. Because when you compare Luz's frantic movements to Belos' calm and calculated ones, it is clear who's the better fighter in this battle.

Second, Luz doesn't do that much. Sure she chips his mask with an ice spell. But that's the equivalent of how Iron Man's finishing move on Thanos only resulted in "a drop of blood." Every other glyph Luz uses during this fight was to protect herself rather than fighting back. And the fact that she barely got a chance to fight back, when the Emperor was going easy on her? Let's just say that it makes me even more terrified for Luz's safety when round two inevitably happens.

Lastly, Luz is someone who has what I like to call: Percy-Jackson-Syndrome. A character who's a bumbling idiot seventy-five percent of the time, a surprisingly good strategist for fifteen percent, and terrifying when angry in the last ten. And Luz has shown in the past that she has a sense of quick wit and strategy when fighting powerful foes. Her plan to beat Willow's inner-self, as well as Luz's plan of escape from Otabin, are two examples that come to mind that prove this. So it's not too much of a stretch that Luz is still alive after fighting Belos, because the one time she got the upper hand was by outsmarting him.

So again, good fight, and I'm terrified for round two.

Luz destroys the portal: This was a heroic sacrifice I didn't see coming, even though I really should have. If you've been paying attention to the episode titles, you'll notice that the first letter of each title spells out the phrase, "A witch loses a true way." A lot of people have been speculating what this phrase could mean. Even I dipped my toe in theorizing the right answer. It turns out the people who thought Luz would lose a "true way" back home were correct. But I don't think anybody could have thought that it would be Luz who would take away her only way back home. Not only is Luz being the one to destroy the portal tragic, but this sacrifice shows how much Luz cares about Eda. Luz is willing to say goodbye to everything she knows, for who knows how long, just so Eda can be safe. Plus, it's another moment of Luz defeating her enemy by outsmarting him. Which teaches kids that you don't need to fight harder. You just need to fight smarter.

Lilith shares the curse: This is another sign that Lilith is on the right path. While I still wouldn't say that I forgive Lilith, I will say this sacrifice makes me want to at least consider it.

Belos is fixing the portal: You want to know what makes a villain even more terrifying? The fact that every victory our hero has is more of a minor inconvenience towards the villain. Which is what this scene is. Because while Luz definitely won the battle, it looks Belos is planning on winning the war.

Eda looks different in the outro: I like this. You know why? Because it tells me that Eda being half cursed is not going to be fixed any time soon. Case in point: Willow was wearing her Abomination Track uniform during the intro and the credits, so as not to spoil the ending of episode three. For every episode after, Willow remained in her Plant Track uniform, and it looks like that's not going to change. So the fact that the crew is committing to Eda's design change, to the point where they change the credits as well, shows a great attention to detail. That also hints at a dynamic shift that will remain for the foreseeable future.

The finale makes me want more: To me, the best finales are the ones that resolve most stories but still opens up more for the next season. Because every narrative and conflict season one opened up has been closed. Lilith wanting to arrest Eda? Closed. Who cursed Eda? Closed. Amity's redemption? Please. That got closed, like, three episodes ago. And yet, this finale left me with more questions that I can't wait to get answered in season two.

How will the dynamic change now that Lilith is added into the main crew? What's the day of unity? Why does Emperor Belos want the portal to the human world? Who's that hooded figure that Belos sends to spy on the Owl House? How is being half-cursed going to affect Eda and Lilith? Can Eda still turn into the Owl Beast? Is Lilith going to turn into an Owl Beast now? Are we going to have an episode where Luz and King are going to deal with TWO Owl Beasts? And most importantly: WHEN THE HOLY F**K ARE LUZ AND AMITY GOING TO KISS ALREADY?!?! DO I SERIOUSLY HAVE TO WAIT DURING ANOTHER SEASON-which I'm totally fine with-TO SEE THESE TWO IDIOTS GET TOGETHER?!

I doubt I’ll ever know the answer to all of these questions, but it sure makes me more excited to see what happens next.

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

So, yeah. "Young Blood, Old Souls" is a definite A+ of an episode. It had excellent drama, astonishing character moments, some closure to several stories, and even a few well-timed jokes on occasion. However, I wouldn't go so far as to say that it's the best episode of the season. It's definitely in the top five, for sure, but not the best. I'm more than willing to give that title to "Enchanted Grom Fright" just for the importance of it alone. Hell, I'd say that I enjoyed "Agony of a Witch" a lot more than "Young Blood, Old Souls." But, I'm willing to blame that on the same reason why Avengers: Infinity War is seen as the better movie than Avengers: Endgame. Whereas the first part did a great job at lifting up the stakes and tension, that part two pales in comparison from doing its job of giving closure. But that doesn't change the fact that "Young Blood, Old Souls" is a damn-near perfect episode that both hurts and heals the soul.

(And that’s it! It’s going to be another few months ‘til season two hits, and in turn, months until I’ll have to review episodes again...Unless I want to do something crazy like review the episodes I didn’t talk about. But that’ll never happen!)

(...)

(...Alright fine. I’ll review them. But not until The Owl House comes onto Disney+!)

[afni-fics]

Elder Scrolls DC - A Reluctant Dragonborn - Chapter 17: Dragon Rising (part 1)

Elder Scrolls DC - A Reluctant Dragonborn - Chapter 17: Dragon Rising (part 1) by C_R_Scott Chapters: 17/? Fandom: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Red Robin (Comics), DCU (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Characters: Tim Drake, Lucien Flavius Additional Tags: Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Skyrim/DCU crossover, Reluctant Dovahkiin | Dragonborn, Not Beta Read, Alternate Universe - Skyrim Fusion, Modded Skyrim, Skyrim Spoilers, Tim Drake is Dragonborn | Dovahkiin, Batfamily-centric (DCU), Tim Drake-centric

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

Summary:

Tim and Lucien make it back to Dragonsreach with the intention of dropping off the Dragonstone and then going to the Temple of Kynareth for some well deserved and long overdue rest and recovery... But then again what is it that they say about the best laid plans of mice and men...?

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

"I'm sorry. What did you say?"

At the annoyed look Jarl gave him, Tim realized his "Timothy Wayne" mask must have slipped a bit. He slipped his "mask" back on and gave the Jarl an apologetic look. "Forgive me, Jarl Balgruuf," he said, speaking up a little louder than before and motioning vaguely toward the right side of his head. "I took pretty nasty blow back at the Barrow and I'm still can't hear well out of this ear. Can you repeat what you said?"

Balgruuf sighed. He looked at Tim and repeated his last statement, a little louder this time so Tim could "hear". "I want you to go with Irileth and help her fight this dragon!"

***

At first, everything went along as both Tim and Lucien had expected once they left the camp they'd rested in after leaving Bleak Falls Barrow. They spent nearly the entire day walking back to Whiterun, with a brief stop by Riverwood to drop off the Golden Dragon Claw with its original owner. Of course it was well past sunset by the time they entered Dragonsreach, but not so late that the people they needed to speak to were asleep. 

Once inside Dragonsreach, they immediately delivered the Dragonstone to a very pleased court wizard Farengar, who had been speaking with a strange hooded woman before their arrival.

Tim only halfway paid attention to Farengar and his guest. He barely stifled a yawn as he felt a touch on his good arm.

"Finally," Lucien whispered behind Tim with what sounded like a great amount of relief as Farengar was distracted speaking with the woman. "I know it's late, but let's get out of here and to the Temple. If we're lucky, a priest or priestess will still be awake and can take a look at your injuries."

Tim nodded wearily. This most recent journey to Whiterun felt longer and more taxing than his previous travels to and from the city. He knew his body was close to his limit, and he could feel the fever from the night before creeping up again.

Unfortunately, Tim had no luck to speak of that evening as Jarl Balgruuf's guard Irileth stormed into the wizard's room, announcing that a dragon had been sighted nearby.

***

Tim bowed his head to the Jarl, shaking his head slightly. He didn't even bother masking the apologetic disbelief in his tone. "I... I would love to help. I really would. But--"

Jarl pointed at Tim. "You survived Helgen, so you have more experience with dragons than anyone else here."

"More experience? Is that what we're calling it now?" Tim echoed under his breath as he found himself unwillingly reliving memories of the disaster at Helgen and his first-hand trauma due to the flames of that black dragon. He wanted to snap at the Jarl, to tell him that he was an idiot and he was not going to go anywhere near any more dragons. He wanted to storm out of Dragonsreach and put as much distance between himself and this castle as he could. 

Instead...

"I... I'll do what I can, Jarl Balgruuf," Tim muttered in a defeated, obedient tone with his gaze lowered before turning on his heel and walking down the stairs as quickly and politely as he could towards the doors that would take him back into the city of Whiterun proper. 

***

"Timothy! Wait! Tim! Stop!" 

Once outside Dragonsreach, Tim didn't stop walking until finally, at the base of the large tree in the courtyard of the upper district of Whiterun. Lucien caught up with him and forced himself directly between Tim and the path leading down another flight of stairs to the marketplace. Lucien seemed a bit winded, as he'd had to dash to catch up to the young man before he got completely out of reach. 

"What do you think you're doing?!" Lucien demanded after he caught his breath enough to speak. 

"Please Lucien... Just get out of the way. I have to catch up with Irileth."

"Why?! You are in no condition to face down a rabid skeever, let alone a full blow fire-breathing dragon!"

"The Jarl asked--"

"The Jarl is an idiot!" 

Tim looked at Lucien with a startled expression. 

Lucien appeared absolutely beside himself with frustration as he continued on his rant. "Just because you survived the dragon at Helgen doesn't mean you have anything significant to contribute to a fight against it now that's reared its ugly face again. Clearly you are not fire-proof, and you are in no way armed or armored enough to face down a monster of that magnitude, ESPECIALLY after everything you went through in Helgen and in the Barrow and after an entire day's travel on foot from the wilds of the hold all the way to the city! 

"Besides, anyone with eyes can see you're not well! Even Irileth gave you a look before she went out to gather the rest of her soldiers after the Jarl made his ludicrous demand!" Lucien took a moment to pause and catch his breath again. When he spoke, it was with a more even tone. "If the Jarl wants extra bodies and blades to throw against that beast, he's got a whole boatload of Companions waiting right there who would be more than happy to add dragon-slaying to their list of accomplishments." Lucien threw an arm at the nearby mead hall of the Companions' guild made from what looked like an overturned viking longboat. "All he has to do is walk down the damned hill or send a messenger if he's too lazy for even that."

Lucien gave him a pleading look. "Timothy... You're not even a citizen of his Hold. You're just... passing through... and you owe Balgruuf no allegience."

Tim wavered. If he was healthy, if he wasn't sick, if he had his Red Robin gear, he knew he could help the soldiers of Whiterun fight this dragon and win. It was what he did as a Titan. It was how he was raised as a Bat. But he was sick and injured and if he tried to fight in this state, he could very well find himself dead, or responsible for the death of others.

Lucien could see the conflict warring on Tim's face. It confused him. Why would anyone suffering as much as he was right now with illness and injury want to continue fighting when the should be resting and healing? 

"You don't have to follow the Jarl's orders," Lucien said gently. "It's not like you're a soldier and he's your comman--"

The scholar's eyes widened as he had a flash of insight. He immediately thought of Tim's skillful fighting style both with his quarterstaff and bare hands as they went through the Barrow. He remembered the young man's strategizing as they came upon bandits and traps and draugr. He recalled in his mind's eye not just the burns on his arm and back, but also an odd collection of other far older battle scars peppered across his torso and limbs. He gazed at Tim as if seeing another part of him for the first time. 

"Wait. You ARE a soldier... of some sort... aren't you?"

Tim nodded reluctantly. "In my homeland, I-- well my entire adopted family really-- we're..." He trailed off a bit as he tried to figure out the best words to give to Lucien. "... peacekeepers for our city. For Gotham." He raked his hand through his hair. "It was our mission to protect the citizens from threats both inside the city and beyond. The mission... always comes first."

Lucien sighed. "Well that explains a bit," he murmured with a small groan. "The way I see it, Timothy, you have two choices before you right now. One... You can disregard the Jarl's order entirely. You're not his citizen or his soldier. You've gone above and beyond already getting that Dragonstone for him. He technically owes you a favor, not the other way around. We can either go right now to the Temple over there so you can start the healing process, or we can just leave Whiterun altogether. I'll pay the carriage driver whatever he wants to leave tonight for Solitude. It may take a couple of days, but at least this way there's no risk of being dragged into any more of the Jarl's nonsense. We'll either find another priest in another town along the way, or we can go straight to the Temple of the Divines in Solitude once we get there."

"And the other choice?"

"The other choice is..." And Lucien returned his pleading look to Tim as he continued reluctantly "... you continue after Irileth and complete the Jarl's ridiculous unreasonable request. You do your best to assist against the dragon, but knowing you're likely to get yourself hurt even worse or killed in the process."

Tim stood for a long moment in silence. He looked to the doors of the Temple of Kynareth with a longing expression, and for a moment Lucien was hopeful that the young man would choose the path of self-preservation. 

Then Tim bowed his head solemnly.

"I'm sorry, Lucien," he whispered as he turned away from the Temple and walked around the scholar to go down the stairs leading toward the marketplace and the path leading out of Whiterun. "If there's some way for me to help Irileth and the soldiers, I have to at least try. If I don't at least try, I don't think I could live with myself." 

He did pause and looked up at Lucien from the bottom of the stairs with sad, apologetic smile that frankly broke the poor scholar's heart. "Thank you for worrying about me, though, and taking care of me the past couple of days.  I... really appreciate all you've done. You're a good man, Lucien Flavius. I'm lucky to have met you." Then Tim gave him a half-hearted farewell wave and continued on the path to catch up with Irileth and her soldiers, leaving Lucien behind.

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

Warning: This is being pantsed more than plotted, and this is not beta read. We'll see where this journey takes us. Mostly I'm just doing this for my own amusement.

Note1: If you have any questions about the playthrough and Tim's feelings/experiences that aren't described in the chapters, please ask me in the comments. I'll do my best to answer your questions as best I can.

Note2:

And so we start the "Dragon Rising" questline of the main story arc of Skyrim. Lucien gets more insight into Tim's character as a person as his disdain for the Jarl of Whiterun grows.

Honestly, even in previous playthroughs of Skyrim, it always struck me as kinda stupid that the Jarl would ask our Dragonborn to go help Irileth fight the dragon at the watchtower before even considering reaching out to the Companions that are right down the street from him. Balgruuf, as a character, never struck me as especially bright either in matters of politics, war, or governing. Clearly the ones managing to hold Whiterun Hold together are Irileth and Proventus.

#elder scrolls dc#fanfiction#tim drake#skyrim fanfiction#batfam fanfic#red robin#batfam#crossover#lucien flavius#wip#afewnovelideas

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Maybe, Just Maybe

Characters: Jo Harvelle x Winchester!Reader, Sam and Dean Winchester, Meredith Grey, Mark Sloan, Jackson Avery, Owen Hunt

Word Count: 1,150

Warnings: supernatural/grey’s anatomy crossover, all angst, end of season 5 spoilers

Summary: Jo is someone that shouldn’t be hunting in the first place, but after you have a fight, you come to learn bad news that just shatters your world.

Squares Filled: No pain no gain for @as-the-saying-goes-bingo​ // surgery in @hc-bingo​ // last times/farewells in @ladiesbingo // broken bone in @spngenrebingo​ // homesickness in @badthingshappenbingo​

Fandom: Supernatural/Grey’s Anatomy

Beta: she wants to remain anonymous

Author’s Note: If you have any requests, please send them in!

Feedback the glue that holds my writing together

Tags at the bottom

Not every relationship is going to be perfect. There are big obstacles and small ones, and only if both parties are willing, then they can get through anything. Your relationship, however, may be suffering too much to fix it. You said something you shouldn't have, even though you believe it to be true. Your girlfriend, however, didn't like hearing it.

You've been hunting ever since you could walk. Your mother died a year after you were born, so your dad took you into his family. He was also on his own with two boys, and as much as he did not want you to, you got into his lifestyle. How could you not when he came home bloodied and bruised, or when he hid weapons and other supernatural items all over every motel you stayed in.

Yes, your dad was John Winchester, but your mom wasn't Mary. You're the youngest of the Winchesters, and your half-brothers are very protective of you. They tried everything to keep you away from the scary stuff, but there came a time when you had to learn to protect yourself. John hated bringing you into this life, but in his mind, it was better than being put into the foster system. So, Sam and Dean helped you be the best hunter there ever was.

And you were until you met Jo Harvelle.

It's not that she made you a bad hunter, it's that she made you a cautious one. While that should be a good thing, it's actually the complete opposite. Sam, Dean, and even your father taught you to shoot first and ask questions later. Jo always loved to ask questions first. She was so eager to hunt with you that she threw all caution into the wind. It was your duty to look after her. She's unknowingly caused so many injuries and accidents.

You can't blame her. Her mother is a hunter, and so was her dad. She so badly wants to be one, that she skips over steps. She's inexperienced, but she refuses to see it. You've told her this many times in the nicest way possible, but it won't stick into her head. You're about the same age as her, and because of that, she thinks she can do whatever you can do.

You grew up with experience... she didn't.

The last conversation you had with her was you trying to explain to her why she couldn't come with you to Seattle on a werewolf hunt. You tried to be nice about it, but you ended up screaming in her face about how bad of a hunter she was. You might have said some other things involving her dad that you can't take back. The look on her face tore your heart into two. Instead of helping her become a better hunter, you just pushed her away.

Classic Winchester.

She knew she was inexperienced, but all she wanted to be is like her parents. A part of you never wanted her to become involved in the first place. She's smart, young, adventurous, brave, full of life, and very beautiful. Monsters eat people like her for breakfast. You were just scared of losing the person you loved dearly. You've seen what it did to your dad, Sam, and Dean. It sucks the life out of people. You didn't want to see that happen to her.

You regret everything you said to her. You love her. Hunting means nothing if she isn't by your side. You left over a month ago and wouldn't take anyone’s calls, not even your brothers. You wanted to prove that you can still hunt alone.

You can't.

You proved that when you thought it was a good idea to go after a werewolf nest without any backup. Yes, werewolves have nests, and they are fucking vicious when threatened. You didn't know if you would even make it out alive. Maybe you didn't. Maybe what you're looking at isn't a dark sky with a bunch of twinkling stars. Maybe you didn't get your insides ripped apart like it was a Christmas present. Maybe you didn’t break almost every bone in your body, trying to fight them off. Maybe you're not lying on the grass, fighting for every breath. Maybe you're not wishing Jo, Sam and Dean were with you.

Maybe, just maybe, you're not currently dying.

Because if all of the above is true, then maybe you're not going to make it home after all.

What happened? Where are you? Why do you feel so numb? The last thing you remember is fighting that werewolf—or actually losing against the werewolf. You were looking up at the stars, wondering if you'd been too harsh with Jo. Jo! Shit! You need to get to her!

You yank yourself up from your bed, but two things stop you: pain burns up your abdomen, and a bunch of wires keeps you locked on the bed. Oh, you're in a hospital. Your legs are in casts. How did you get here? Who found you so close to a werewolf's nest? Are they okay? How many bones did you break?

"Oh good, you're up,” a female doctor says by the beeping machines.

How did you not notice her or the nurse there before?

"Page Dr. Sloan and Dr. Hunt, please," she asks of the nurse.

"Right away, Doctor,” the nurse nods and leaves.

"Can you understand what I'm saying?” she asks, and you just nod. "Do you know where you are?” Nod. "My name is Meredith Grey. Can you try speaking for me?"

"Water, please,” you try saying, but it comes out all raspy.

"Of course," she nods and leaves.

As soon as she leaves, three more doctors enter. All men, all with smiles on their faces. One is the tallest with grayish hair, the other is a black man with gorgeous green eyes, and the last one is a redhead. Why are they here? Meredith comes back with some water, and you down it graciously.

"Can you tell me your name?” Dr. Grey asks.

"Y/N."

"Y/N, they are Dr. Mark Sloan, Dr. Jackson Avery, and Dr. Owen Hunt," she introduces the trio respectfully.

"You have really pretty eyes," you say to Jackson.

"Thank you," he blushes.

"Can you tell me how you got your injury?"

"My injury?" you ask before remembering the werewolf.

"Your abdomen was badly damaged. Dr. Avery and I were able to repair some of it with skin grafts, but we had to pull sections from your thighs and butt," Dr. Sloan explains.

"I've never seen trauma that bad. What happened?" Dr. Hunt asks.

Dr. Avery's eyes remind you of someone. They are bright green with a hint of blue, though, you're not concerning yourself with the blue.

"I have to call my girlfriend. She'll worry," you say when you remember your brother and the whole reason you're in this mess.

"I'm sure she will be alright. Is there any family we can call?" Dr. Grey asks.

"My brothers. Please, let me have my phone. I need to talk to them."

You beg with your eyes, and the doctors realize they won't be getting anything out of you unless they give you what you want. The doctors shuffle out of the room after giving you your phone. You haven't spoken to anyone in a good month, so you hope you can get them to come to you.

Dean hasn't said a word since he and Sam have arrived. He's been standing by the door with a sour look on his face. Sam is talking to Dr. Grey, but you don't know about what. As soon as he's finished, he walks into your room and locks the door.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Dean explodes.

"You could have gotten yourself killed,” Sam adds.

"Not calling or texting in a month? Because of Cas' stupid rib branding thing, we couldn't find you," Dean glares.

"I'm sorry,” you sigh.

"What happened?" Sam wonders.

"Werewolf nest. I couldn't get out in time. I thought I was dead."

"You will be because l am going to kill you!" Dean shouts.

"Before you do that, could one of you tell me why Jo isn't calling me back? We had a huge fight before I left, and I need to tell her that she was right. I shouldn't have said what I said, and I really hurt her feelings. Is she ignoring me?"

Dean's anger and Sam's concern completely wash away at your girlfriend’s name. Something happened, you can read it on their faces. Did she get hurt? Worse? You haven't been home in a month, so how bad can things actually get?

"What happened? Tell me she's alright,” you whisper.

Sam takes a seat on the edge of your hospital bed. If Sam is the one talking, then you know you're going to hear bad news. He's the brother that always gets that job.

"Don't say it," you get tears.

"We were being chased by hellhounds, and one of them got to her before we could."

"Tell me she's okay," you cry.

"She didn't make it. Ellen either. I'm so sorry,” he sighs.

You're already crying at the thought Jo is no longer with you, but Ellen too? You left things off with Jo by yelling at her and telling her she sucks at hunting? Now she's gone? You didn't even tell her how sorry you are. You're never going to hear her voice again, stare into her beautiful eyes, run your fingers through her blonde locks, kiss her plump lips, and so many other things.

You're never going to tell her how much you love her, and it's all your fault. Maybe if you had never left, you might have been able to save her. All you can do now is to cry for the loss of a family who never deserved any of this.

Maybe, just maybe, things would have been different if you stayed.

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[ephemeral-afterlight]

Mourning at Midnight

(UwU so Hey. i’m back with some more trash)

Word Count: 7480

Summary: It’s scary, in a way, how in moments like this one, Logan feels as if his consciousness floats away from him, leaving behind only a wave of white-hot, searing anger that drains out of him just as quickly as it comes. There’s sleet running through his veins, and his brain has frostbite, and his fingertips are numb in the face of the ringing resonance after his outburst. The pain comes next, a simmering heat blistering below his fist until it’s coated and red and the beginnings of a bruise are starting to form. He can’t help but stare helplessly in front of himself, eyes burning and filling and blazing with how much they beg to close.

He doesn’t want to look up, to face the suffocating silence that’s fallen over the room. He doesn’t want to see their faces, their disappointment, their anger, their contempt. He wants to yell. He wants to sleep.

Logan sinks out.

Warnings (could potentially be small spoilers, nothing too big, but if you don’t have any triggers I’d suggest you skip reading this!):

There are no u!sides in this, nor does anyone have malicious intent, but the other main three (Virgil, Patton, Roman) and Thomas, to a lesser extent, treat Logan unkindly (not on purpose) and don’t realize their errors. This will be resolved! Just… not yet OwO

Being ignored/talked over

Mental/emotional breakdown

An unidentified illness with symptoms including: [extreme persistent nausea (lots of mentions), vomiting (once), bile, weakness/weariness, shaking, lightheadedness, double vision (once), headache, body aches/pains, breathing difficulties]

General negativity including: [self-doubt, self-deprecation/depreciation, feeling worthless or unloveable, self-hatred]

Anger management/temperament issues

Unintentional self-harm (not anything like c-tting, Logan gets a bruise as a result of an angry outburst)

Separate small, vague allusion to self-harm, but it’s not outright and not detailed in the slightest. Could be read as not even talking about self-harm

Potentially triggering descriptive imagery (metaphors and similes to describe how a character feels or percieves a situation, not anything that actually happens) including but not limited to: [glass, sharp things, blood, injection, live wires, loud noises, screaming, general mentions of pain, masochism, sound torture, knives/blades, wounds, drowning/suffocating, pressure]

Temporarily unresolved tension between Logan/Deceit/Remus and the other sides/Thomas (there will be a happy ending in the next fic, though, don’t worry!)

A few vulgar threats of violence (somewhat explicit, be careful) to the other sides from Remus (out of protectiveness; Remus means well but he does Not express it in a healthy way) that is not carried out or even humoured

Remus’ morning star and descriptions of its destructive capabilites

Loceit as a romantic pairing (for now…. UwU)

Sympathetic “dark” sides

That should be it for warnings! Let me know if I need to add anything!

A/N: So! This is finally done :D !! I’ve been working on it on and off for the past week or so, and although I know it could be way better, I think this is where I’ll keep it! This is technically a sequel to my other fic Tea at Twilight and it takes place in the same universe, and although you don’t need to read that before this to understand the story, I strongly suggest reading that first to get more of a feel for the dynamic! 

This is inspired by @illogicallyinclined and her absolutely amazing Disaster Trio™ headcanons/au, and was prompted by this post so I just started writing! I meant for it to be a bit shorter, but of course my brain would Not let it go, even despite my ADHD, executive dysfunction, and massive amounts of writer’s block. 

This is also unfinished! It is the second of three main works, all happening chronologically in the same universe. The first one is Tea at Twilight as stated previously, then this one, and there will be a third and final installment added to finish off this short little trilogy! I’ll be adding this to the series on AO3, so when the final fic is up, it’ll all be together for an easy reading experience. It is also possible that there will be other small fics in this universe (UA, as has been recently coined) that operate outside of the timeline of the main story, so be sure to watch out for that! 

Thanks to Jay once again for creating these lovely headcanons that haunt my dreams every night, and for inspiring me to get back into my writing groove despite a writer’s block that’s lasted for over three years! Hope this isn’t too terrible, Jay! ilyy <333</p>

Also, a huge thank you to @illogical-anxieties for being such a good cheerleader/enabler! You really do help to keep me motivated and on track (and keep my ADHD in check), which is probably why this was even able to become a full-fledged story rather than a WIP to be buried where unfinished fics go to die T~T Love you tons <3</p>

(If I’m being honest with myself, this is just an excuse for me to live up to my IRL title of “Living Thesaurus”, coined by a friend many years ago and has since spread around to other friends and family. My title is thriving, and I suppose that means I should actually have proof of it, so there’s that.)

(Cross-posted to AO3)

(Read Part 1 here)

He can feel it building.

There’s far too much left to be desired when it comes to frustration. The natural helplessness that makes way for anger when you try so hard to do something or be something for someone and you’re pushed down by anything and everything between ignorance and antipathy. The fear that nothing you can do or say will ever be good enough. The buzzing, ticking, pinpricks upon pinpricks of heat injected into you until your blood and heart have been replaced with glass, fragile as a crumbling stone wall. It’s not as if he hasn’t had his outbursts before, spurred on by the familiar sharp pulse of rage that courses through him in a split-second whirlwind. It builds inside him, and he can feel the pressure in his limbs expand until it feels like his muscles are being squeezed out of existence and then he snaps like a rubber band that’s been pulled too taut. He’s not in denial of the fact that his impulsive, blinding reaction when met with frustration is not okay, and only detrimental to the demeanour he’s trying to retain. He knows it’s childish. He knows it’s immature, and pathetic, and wholly invigorating, at least until the adrenaline has worn off and he’s in the aftermath of his knee-jerk reaction to the tension coiled in his arms and legs and head.

It doesn’t mean that Logan is particularly in control of it though, despite his self-awareness being far above the level that most people with anger management issues are at. Maybe there’s a certain quality to it that allows for growth; it’s not as if Logan stays angry, or that he wants to hurt people. He loves the others, painfully so (as much as he loathes to admit it), to the point where he’s so desperate for their approval that he tampers down his passion, that spark that used to drive him to learn and speak and be happy just to avoid being cast out and abandoned, alone in the way he never wants to be. He wants to find a way to temper the fall into those dark, consuming waters, a way to mute the buzzing and ticking. He wants to seal those exposed live wires and release the tension to the point where he never lashes out ever again. He wants to, and he doesn’t know how to, and that fact infuriates him in an ironic, endless cycle of self-imposed and self-directed enmity.

Logan still thinks on this often, even now, wracking his brain for solutions to problems that realistically won’t be solved as easily as he wishes they would. Excerpts and quotes and data and statistics from many different studies about anger and temper management and irritability and everything in between seem to figuratively run amok through his brain, a screaming crowd of witnesses to the chaos and failure found in his ability to filter through the nonsense and come to a satisfying conclusion, any conclusion at all. He notices how his fingers tremble as they slip into the handle of his coffee mug, endures the dull ache in his mid-to-lower back from falling asleep at his desk for the majority of the day under the guise of work so important he holed himself up in his room to complete it. He ignores the way his head pounds, how he feels so dizzy that he might fall over and pass out any second from lightheadedness. He suffers through the loud conversations between the other three that are typical to the dinner routine that Logan cannot deal with today, not with this headache poking at him like figurative needles in his head.

When he senses the summons from Thomas stirring up the familiar but nonetheless odd ticklish sensation on the back of his neck, Logan can feel the tension knot up his muscles, and the combination of the two just makes him want to growl in irritation. The others, having also felt the summoning, seem to get impossibly louder, ringing and stinging and singing in his head. He still persists, despite the fact that he knows he shouldn’t be out doing anything today that’s likely to exacerbate his sickness, because Thomas is important, more so than Logan himself. No matter how much he wants to hole himself up in his room and sleep the day away, his host needs him, so Logan simply forces his mask of indifference to melt into steel. He refuses to budge, not for the first or last time, and he rises up in the real world standing straight and rigid and as put together as he’s always expected to be.

When he’s finally settled into his usual spot, as still as he can possibly be to not exacerbate the roiling nausea disquieting his stomach, he’s able to take in the other four arranged in their usual positions in Thomas’ living room, already having begun a conversation that Logan has missed the premise of entirely through his all-eclipsing, obfuscating malady. His vision doubles, like broken fractals of glass reflecting onto themselves, and then it pulls back together, merging back into something visible, something manageable.

“Well, I’m sure Danny likes you, too! You just gotta ask him, kiddo!” Patton exclaims, high voice pushing through the heavy, suffocating cotton in Logan’s ears, and the words snap the bespectacled side to attention. He needs context, needs to know what they’re talking about, needs to be able to help for once. Maybe he has to endure the bad to be able to put out the good, and this is where the climax is, the top of the rollercoaster at such a high altitude that oxygen is thin and dispersed before he shoots down the tracks in a rush of fresh air, relieving and calm and sanguine as he’s finally able to ground himself. A shiver runs through Logan’s body, between his shoulder blades and down his hip and through his leg, and his eyes flutter under the weight of consciousness. It recedes, the flow is ebbed, and his head clears to a more sustainable level.

“Oh, that’s so boring, Padre! Thomas should hire a band to play! And we can rig up streamers and confetti and there can be a cake and dancing and a party to celebrate!” Roman crows, throwing his arms and hands up into his signature pose to match his full, booming tone. Patton squeals, clutching his cardigan in his hands to pull excitedly at the sleeves as he bounces giddily on his feet. At the suggestion, as the polar opposite to Patton’s reaction, Virgil grimaces, hunching over even further in his jacket as he protests with every way he can think of that the situation could go wrong. Unsurprisingly, Roman takes personal offense to it and refutes Virgil’s points with the same intensity and fervour that’s been present in himself and his interactions with the anxious side since day one. Logan sort of understands, can infer that they’re discussing how to ask out Danny, a new friend of Thomas’ who has very quickly turned into a crush. In that case…

“If I may interrupt? While I don’t share all of Virgil’s worries, I do agree with his position in regards to the fact that there isn’t a need for such extravagance. It might embarrass Danny, for one, and for two, there are many ways such an excessive venture could backfire, such as technical difficulties or general human error. The idea is, while exciting, frankly outrageous,” Logan says, his role as the voice of reason renewed once more. It’s his job to sift through the conversations they have and get to the important parts, and he likes his job. He’s good at micromanaging, mediating the chaos, good at storing information to sort and consider and veto and bolster. It’s how he operates, how he copes. “We can think of something else to–”

“Oh, shut it, Pocket Protector. We all know you don’t care about romance, but this is important! Thomas wishes to find love with the second most handsome prince in the world! After me, of course,” Roman exclaims, in that boisterous, self-aggrandizing way of his, the way that hides his real insecurities he buries so deeply in himself he doesn’t know how to find them again. Oddly enough, it’s not Roman’s defense mechanism that throws Logan off, it’s the way that Logan stopped talking almost reflexively to allow the other side to finish his statement, as if the prince’s words were more important than his own, and it speaks as testament to how much Logan’s been conditioned (or maybe he’s conditioned himself all on his own) into putting everyone else before himself, even when it hurts him or Thomas. Logan is ignored in the face of his implicit trust, and he hates that even as it pours salt in the open wound, he finds himself taking a depraved, spiteful comfort in the familiarity of it all.

“That’s not what I–”

“Awe, c'mon, Logan! Thomas deserves to have a happy relationship and someone he can live out the rest of his life with! Doesn’t that sound nice, to grow old together with someone you love? Isn’t that romantic? Oh, it just makes me so warm and fuzzy thinking about it!” Patton interrupts, hands clutching each other over his heart as he swoons. Logan knows Patton doesn’t mean to be rude, but he still can’t help but be a little hurt by it, especially since he’s now been ignored twice consecutively. He’s just trying to help, and if that means reigning in Roman’s exorbitant ideas that border on egregious at times, then Logan knows it must be done. Although he encourages Thomas to seek a relationship to improve his mental health and provide more financial stability, there is a limit to how much he can disregard himself and others in doing so, and that doesn’t mean that Logan is the bad guy for pointing that out. He knows that. He knows that, so why does the dismissal still feel so sharp in his chest?

“Yeah, romance is cool and all, but what if it doesn’t work? What if Danny actually hates us? What if we ask and he laughs at us or says no and then we’ll be standing there like an idiot and then he’ll never wanna talk to us again because he thinks we’re pathetic and stupid and–”

“Hey, now, don’t be such a Debby Downer, kiddo! I’m sure it’ll go just fine! We’ll just ask him. The worst thing that can happen is he’ll say no, right? Shouldn’t we give it a shot?” Patton consoles before Virgil can go into a spiral. Although his well-meaning reassurances are meant to be comforting, his voice just grates on Logan’s ears, tinny and hollow and misdirected.

“That’s what I’m afraid of!”

Logan wants to keep listening, he really does, but the noise is rising to levels where it’s too much to handle. He’s already sensitive from his illness, but the discussion that is very quickly turning into an argument falls in pulses through his head, sound torture to the broken, hopeless masochist. He’s barely holding onto himself at this point, consciousness like a dangling thread that swirls and dances and twirls with even the tiniest breeze, a hint of movement sending it shivering and quivering as it spins. It wouldn’t take much for the thread to fray from the weight pulling it down, or to saw through it in a clean slice that leaves it floating feather-light upon air currents, petals spiraling to the ground.

Petals. Flowers. Thomas could bring Danny flowers! It’s perfect! Danny is especially predisposed to gardening, and he frequently talks about different flowers and what they mean based on the type and colour. His interest in botany could make this a sweet gift, to show that Thomas pays attention to what Danny enjoys, and can be the perfect segue into asking him on a romantic outing. Yes, this could work! It would appease Roman’s inclination to classic romanticism while still being practical and not unreasonably expensive, give Patton his ideal relationship fantasy (and a “warm and fuzzy feeling”, apparently), and allow Virgil a little more breathing room, so-to-speak. This is something they all should be agreeable towards, and that confidence is enough to supply Logan with enough energy to push past his lightheadedness and offer a solution. He’s proud of himself for taking the others’ feelings into account, something he knows he’s not always been the most proficient at, and for coming up with a compromise that will likely satisfy everyone’s wants and needs.

“What about bringing him flowers?” Logan asks, pleased and antsy as he feels hope well up in his chest. He doesn’t push it down this time, and he thinks maybe, just maybe they’ll finally listen to him, that they’ll tell him that he did well, that he’s being considerate and maybe even say thank you–

“How would you even know, Roman? It’s not like we just go out and hire mariachi bands every Saturday!” Virgil says with furrowed brows, and Roman huffs in indignation, and Patton sighs as he looks between the two of them, and Logan’s words fall on deaf ears. They didn’t even hear. They didn’t listen. They didn’t care they didn’t care–

“Uh, hey, Virgil, what if–” Logan tries once more to speak, nausea rolling angrily in his gut, head spinning dizzy round and round and round and round and Virgil flinches.

He flinches. Because of Logan.

Virgil hasn’t been afraid of any of them for a long time. Sure, in the beginning, when they fought one another on nearly a day-to-day basis, there would be a moment before he could pull on his figurative mask that a flash of fear would go through Virgil’s eyes, and the sadness kept within wouldn’t subside even when he growled and snapped and blustered whichever side had the misfortune of picking a fight with him during a time where his first instinct was to keep away the pain and longing and loneliness the only way he knew how. Over time, that flash of fear dulled, morphed into something more manageable, more trusting. The sadness never really went away, but it was met with warmth, a soft contentedness that danced in his eyes when he realized he had a family to turn to. He hasn’t been afraid for a long time. And yet, he flinches away from Logan, just from him speaking.

Is he really that bad?

Does even simply the sound of his voice have such a negative association for Virgil that it prompts genuine fear and discomfort? Has he really scared Virgil that much? What did he do? How can he fix this?

Maybe he shouldn’t.

Logan’s felt disconnected from the others for quite a while now. He loves them, of course he does, but he doesn’t feel like he fits. He’s the metaphorical jagged puzzle piece, the one that should snap into the final vacant space but is so broken beyond repair that it doesn’t fit quite right. He wants to belong, to feel at home whenever he’s with them, but he doesn’t. He yearns for the acceptance that Virgil earned, the support that Roman is held up by, the respect and adoration Patton seems to acquire so casually and naturally that it’s like he doesn’t even have to try. Logan wants to be like them. He wants to be loved, but… that isn’t really his place, is it?

Love is not an inherent thing. It’s something that’s earned, by doing good things and being important enough to someone that they give it freely. It’s something Logan doesn’t understand, but despite that, still desperately, painfully yearns for. He wants to be loved, the way he loves the others. He wants to be a part of their famILY, to have that implicit trust in each other that only comes from acute, profound, deep-seated love. He wants that fondness directed towards himself, that devotion borne from hapless, radiating appreciation. The humbled esteem, the maudlin, theatrical longing, the passion and yearning and helpless, acquiescent love that bursts from the seams in a manner that will never diminish or fade. He wants that. Badly. And he’s finally ready to accept that he will never have it. He’s okay. He’s okay. He just needs a moment. He just needs to breathe.

The others must have continued with their arguments long ago, seemingly unaware of anything outside of themselves. Logan supposes he shouldn’t really berate them for that since he often falls victim to getting lost in debate as well, but something is wrong with Thomas, going by his expression and demeanour and the logical side can’t ignore it anymore. It’s highly unlikely that the other three will come away from themselves for long enough to notice, and it doesn’t sound like they’re anywhere close to coming to a conclusion amongst themselves, so Logan is perfectly fine with bearing that responsibility upon himself to check up on his host and make sure he’s okay. He’s the most important one here, after all, and it’s Logan’s job to help him, guide him in his life and decisions.

“Thomas? Is there something wrong?” Although the words come out clear and precise as usual, Logan’s throat burns, and he can barely breathe. He wants to sleep, he wants to sleep, but Thomas needs him, and that doesn’t happen often nowadays, so Logan does nothing but wait impassively. His host bites the inside of his cheek, then sighs as he stares off at the wall, lost in thought. Since he says nothing, the logical side assumes he will continue to say nothing for a few more moments, and decides to give him a once-over to gather more information and any possible context. Thomas’ eyebrows are furrowed, and his posture far from adequate. His expression is troubled, and his arms are crossed loosely, a pointer finger scratching at his elbow unconsciously. There is no obvious cause for his confusion and/or upset in himself or anywhere in the room, apart from the current dilemma, but he was fine before, so something must have changed to distress him now. Logan cannot ascertain what Thomas needs simply from observing him, so he concludes that the best thing for him to do is wait.

So he does. And he does so for a minute, two, five. Every second that ticks by feels like a needle is being shoved into his eyes, his brain, his legs, his everything and it takes more effort to stand than he’s used to. Breathing is difficult, but that isn’t exactly a new development, so at least he knows how to ignore it. Eventually, ten minutes pass with only the sound of the other three arguing in the background, and it doesn’t seem like Thomas is really all there. Although the action makes him want to throw up, Logan shifts forward, moving out of his usual spot and into Thomas’ own. He still doesn’t acknowledge any kind of input outside himself, so Logan lays a hand on his host’s arm gently, which snaps him out of his trance in a slow, unhurried kind of way. Thomas gives him a glance when his logical side sighs, tampering down any audible signs of his nausea in a manner that is unbeknownst to the host, but returns to staring at the wall without a second regard.

“Thomas?” Logan murmurs, bile rising in his throat and shoving his hidden suffering even closer to the forefront of his mind, as though it hasn’t been there all along. It’s hard to think, through all of the white noise and weary irritation and the tiniest sliver of hope that he crushes immediately, but thinking is his job, and he needs to help. “Are you alright? You can talk to me.”

And then Thomas is shrugging him off, turning away as he tells him he should “just stop” with piercing words, that he “can’t do anything to help”, and the rejection feels like a metaphorical knife has been shoved into his gut. Logan can feel the pain and the heartbreak and the insecurity materialize into a cold blade, twisting and twisting just to make him hurt more. Logan is ignored for the fourth time today, by the person it hurts to come from the most, and he can feel the sun whipping and screaming in his chest. His breath is stuck, sucked down into his throat, a sharp pain localizing in his neck, and he can’t help but bring his hand up to rub at the spot with trembling fingertips as he unsteadily lurches back to his regular spot. The others don’t notice, of course, or if they did, they don’t care. Then the nausea he’s been fighting against surges like a violent wave at full force, drowning him and the hurt is forcing its way into his mouth, his throat, his lungs, and he can’t breathe–

His fist flashes down from his neck to the banister, punching the railing so hard it echoes in the reverberation created from his vicious, angry snarl.

It’s scary, in a way, how in moments like this one, Logan feels as if his consciousness floats away from him, leaving behind only a wave of white-hot, searing anger that drains out of him just as quickly as it comes. There’s sleet running through his veins, and his brain has frostbite, and his fingertips are numb in the face of the ringing resonance after his outburst. The pain comes next, a simmering heat blistering below his fist until it’s coated and red and the beginnings of a bruise are starting to form. He can’t help but stare helplessly in front of himself, eyes burning and filling and blazing with how much they beg to close.

He doesn’t want to look up, to face the suffocating silence that’s fallen over the room. He doesn’t want to see their faces, their disappointment, their anger, their contempt. He wants to yell. He wants to sleep.

Logan sinks out.

There’s a very short window of time where the logical side rushes into the en-suite bathroom after rising up in his bedroom, trembling legs aching with exhaustion. Barely a second passes between him falling to the floor and emptying the meager contents of his stomach into the toilet, the bile burning in his tender throat as a reminder of his failure. The floor is cold and hard beneath him, ridges of tiles pressing unrelenting into his knees through his wrinkled jeans. His head spins, unbalanced as it whirls through itself, words and thoughts and ideas that mean nothing and everything simultaneously existing hollowly in a falling echo. There is pain, and aching, and soreness, and exhaustion, and Logan wants to sleep.

It’s hard to rise to his feet, head throbbing and knees shaking as he wipes the spit from his mouth on a folded square of toilet paper. The pain nags at him, persistent and irritating in its attempts to shut Logan out, almost clear in a way that belies the foggy haze blanketing his nearly incoherent thought process. Marking a clear vantage, a faultline to anchor onto is no easy task, and all Logan wants as he stumbles over to his bed is a landmark to pinpoint and find his way back to. He careens toward the mattress once he’s close enough, finally letting his legs give out underneath him when he’s as near as he can bear. It’s so difficult to stay upright in stiff misery, pangs and twinges of sharp pain coursing through his limbs and his back as his muscles are forced together under pressure.

In another familiar, frustrating bout of anger that seizes his breath before it can escape his lungs, Logan shoves his fingers in the knot of his tie, yanking it forcefully even as the motion jerks his own head forward uncomfortably along with it. His fingers run down the length of the fabric, and it falls apart at the end of its cycle, much like Logan has, and he snaps his arm back to chuck the dark blue, silky length to the ground in a motion that does little to relieve the rage built up inside him.

He can feel it building. The buzzing, the pressure, the glass in his veins running on shards. He feels the pinpricks upon pinpricks, the fire burning in his lungs, and the stone crumbles, and tumbles down, and he’s like a rubber band pulled taut.

He cracks, shrill pressure in his knuckles and head and torso, and nothing happens.

Then Logan hears the telltale squeak of his door swiveling on mildly rusty hinges, and a familiar voice echoes right through his bubble, shatters the stone wall like a bulldozer running at full speed, and then the wetness spills over his lashes and over his stony, impassive face.

“Oh, Lo,” Deceit murmurs, sad and tender as the breath rushes out of him and Logan can’t do this. He wants to throw out his fist in a wide arc and pummel the wall next to him until his knuckles are raw and bloodied and bruised beyond repair. He wants to scream until his throat is torn and his voice is gone, lost in the uncaring, empty void that coldly swallowed up his passion. Happiness has never seemed further away, and he knows he deserves it. But then he remembers all of the times where the pressure in his limbs and the buzzing in his brain forced him to lash out, to hurt others, and he thinks that maybe it’s okay for him to hurt right now to even the score. With the last of the metaphorical wall around him in tiny pieces, fragments of a life he never wanted to live but he desperately fought to keep, he lets his guard down for the first time in years.

Logan’s face crumples under the weight he’s burdened his being with, body immediately drooping under the heaviness that he’s forced himself to fight through. He finally submits, and the tears come in an endless stream over his cheekbones, itchy and hot and terribly, mindlessly relieving. It feels so good to finally let the negative emotion he’s pent up inside him out, to fall out of his cage he’s lived in high above a swirling ocean of release and fear and freedom. And he’s so, so lucky because he has someone to save him from the fall.

Deceit’s kneeled down in front of him, wiping away the tears as they fall with uncharacteristically degloved thumbs, and Logan can feel the smoothness of the scales twisting and trailing down his fingers. Every so often, Deceit’s pointed thumbnails catch lightly on the skin of Logan’s cheek, and it just causes him to cry harder. The vulnerability in the room is palpable, a wispy breath of worry and insecurity and trust trailing over their skin, blanketing the room in a warmth that runs even warmer when Logan reaches up to gently lay his hand over Deceit’s own. He shows his appreciation through tactility when the words he so desperately wishes to say are lost in his throat, blocked by the barrier that separates his newfound submission and the part of him that’s still clinging to the feeble grasp at acceptance he craves so dearly.

Logan can barely tell what’s in front of him through the kaleidoscope in his vision, but he doesn’t really need to see to throw himself forward off the bed and bury himself in Deceit’s chest, of whom lets out a surprised noise but doesn’t hesitate a single second in wrapping his arms tightly around the other side. He strokes Logan’s back comfortingly and offers him whispered reassurances through the heart-wrenching sobs and broken, croaky whines that disappear into his cloak, hand coming up to cradle his head in the overwhelming reflexive instinct to keep the logical side safe and happy. It feels like a dagger has gone through Deceit’s chest at the knowledge that Logan has been suffering for so long and hasn’t been able to let it out or just simply be held, the self-preservation that is at the core of his function as a side going off like alarm bells with every sniffle. Logan curls into the first person who’s ever offered him physical affection and emotional safety, and his fists clench the fabric at the snake-like side’s shoulders as tightly as he would if he were to never, ever let go.

Logan is out of breath even as his heart begins to calm, beating and beating in his ribcage and in his lungs. The lump in his throat prevents him from speaking, but he figures it’s okay to not be heard audibly, just this once, and speak with his actions. Although he doesn’t know what he’s saying when he pulls back and wraps his arms around Deceit’s neck, laying his face in the crook of other side’s neck like a small child would, not really, he hopes that his intent still comes across in some sort of intelligible, hopeful way. Deceit seems to take this as a request, a promise, and slides his grip to a point where he can hoist the smaller side up in his hold, carrying him just like a parent carrying their kid to their bed after they fell asleep during a visit to a friend’s house. This situation is much more loaded, stained with impurities and unsure withering, but it’s just as raw, just as real, and Logan finds himself feeling safer than he ever has before.

At some point, they end up on the bed, Logan having been manhandled into a more comfortable position for both of them, which is laying across Deceit’s lap without ever having let go of his neck. The logical side feels small and vulnerable, something that he would normally hate, squash down, bury so deep within himself that he doesn’t even have to acknowledge it. But honestly, right here, right now, he’s so goddamn exhausted, and forcing himself back into the state of repression he’s been in for so much of his life would take too much of a toll, more than he already has on himself. The wetness rolls down his cheeks, bold, blue precipitation falling in droplets onto his skin and the fabric of Deceit’s cape, sinking and spreading and thinning out into airy nothingness. And the nothingness enraptures him, pulls him in even as he breaks and whimpers and spills wisps of forgotten feelings into empty space, at least until his bedroom door opens once more with a loud click, because nothing Remus ever does is truly quiet.

“Hey, are you guys having a sexy party without me? How c–… are you… crying?” Remus asks, suggestive tone split and watered down into something confused, and surprised, and angry. The younger twin kicks the door shut behind him with his foot, more out of muscle memory than conscious forethought, something that stands with nearly every action Remus executes. Logan turns his head wearily, not lifting it from where it rests on Deceit’s collarbone. The latter of the two takes that chance to clear away some of the tears that didn’t get absorbed into his clothing, hoping that since the stream is slowly dispersing, his cheeks will stay dry this time. Remus slowly approaches, body tense and eyes piercing as Logan’s face is wiped off for the nth time, offering no other sounds or words as he crouches down to examine how the bespectacled side’s skin is rubbed red and sensitive.

Logan just whines softly, stare falling to the bedsheets, observing nothing in particular as he tries to figure out why words are failing him. Something that’s such an intricate part of himself, the communication of thoughts and ideas and knowledge that defines so much of who he is and how he exists, it’s dwindled and diminished into nothing. Deceit seems to understand, he always does, and reads him so perfectly it’s a wonder the two didn’t become closer in the beginning, with how much they truly are alike. A scaled hand makes it’s way up to Logan’s head and cards through the soft, disheveled hair there, scratching lightly at his scalp in a motion that seems to draw the aching tension caused by his distress out of his body, leaving his muscles to relax and melt into the chest that holds him upright.

“Something happened before I came in here. I assume it has to do with the others,” Deceit murmurs into thick, heavy air, stale with shame and tired hopelessness. Remus’ eyes flick to Logan’s own, actively searching for some sort of confirmation or denial. There’s a beat of silence, and Logan’s eyes flutter in a fatigued attempt to stay awake, and the nausea creeps its way into his stomach once again like a predator stalking its prey. Deceit repositions himself quietly, pulling the smaller side impossibly closer, as if he knows that he’ll need the added comfort. With his body squished into a protective embrace, and his tie laying flat on the floor below, forgotten and scorned for what it represents, Logan swallows hard around the sharp block in his neck and nods through his nonverbal affliction.

At the minimal admission, something in Remus’ eyes darkens, bathing the bright craze that typically resides there in something hateful, and vicious, and dripping with chemical absolution. He shifts away, rolls onto his haunches in a way that doesn’t read as entirely intentional, as though he’s been physically forced back with the weight of the confession. There’s so much there, in the way his breath comes out shallow and gravelly and low like a beast biting and snapping at the bars that contain it, fighting against the cage it’s locked inside. Nostrils flare, and jaw sets, and fists clench white as bone, and Remus straightens up to his full height, intimidating and looming and dangerous.

“Who?” he spits, venom coursing through the single word in molten streams. It’s a protective fire, serious in a way Remus rarely is, and the storm in his eyes and aura only becomes more turbulent and intense and solid as he reaches behind himself to slowly seize his morning star from where he keeps it at the ready. Pulling it to the front of him is an unexpectedly slow event, yet still ferocious in its quiet, cold fervour. The silver weapon swings in a steady arc around the side of Remus’ body, catching the dim light in a threatening glint, the gleam alluding to its deadliness in a way that’s almost unexplainable. The spiked mace finally comes to its resting point, hovering in the air just beside the fierce side’s leg, unassuming and ready to drive its way into an unlucky antagonist’s skull.

“I’ll cut their fucking throats. I’ll rip off every single limb from their bodies until they’re nothing but a pile of flesh and blood. They’re gonna pay for this,” Remus snarls, each threat bathed in acrimony and malice and choked by fury ripping through the tempest. Logan stares through misty eyes, half-lidded and concerned but too out of it to muster much of a coherent thought. Thankfully, Deceit is still there, soft and warm and well-equipped to deal with Remus and his behaviour. The snake-like side sighs, reaching out to just barely snatch up a frilly black sleeve, tugging him closer and meeting surprisingly little resistance despite the rigidity of the tallest side’s posture. Each breath from Remus comes out like a bullet, brisk and arduous and punctuated by a pang of impermeable guilt.

Even as Deceit motions Remus to lower himself onto the bed in front of them, the latter of the two is still apprehensive, terse movements and restless eyes that flit between anything and everything they can to avoid stagnation. It’s almost fearful, in a way, primal in its aptitude to think, and cultivate, and vindicate a wrongdoing that was never his fault or responsibility in the first place. Logan hates that they need to save him, hates that he doesn’t truly believe they actually care. There’s a level of certainty with himself and with others that the logical side hasn’t reached yet, and it feels too close and yet too far, kept obscure and secluded and almost clandestine in the way it’s ostensibly unreachable.

With the help of Deceit’s hand to guide his way, Remus slowly lets go of his morning star, tossing it to the side with a pensive, trembling swallow. It clatters to the ground, metallic clang resounding in vibrations, tilde-shaped waves that bounce off the façade and yell out to one another. Muted shrieks upon perfect, flat, neutral paint, sepulchral oscillations attacking the drywall.

“You can’t hurt them. I know you’re angry. I am too. But hurting them won’t solve anything, Rem, you know that more than anyone,” Deceit says meaningfully, smiling in a way that’s sad and distant but caring and compelling and relaxing for the tension wrapped so tightly around the three of them. The snake-like side lifts the hand that’s not in Logan’s hair and reaches out to grab Remus’ own, firmly but gently as he squeezes his fingers in a way that reassures, and consoles, and reprimands, not unkindly. He admonishes, and breaks that anger and frustration, and builds up positivity and alleviation and reprieve from everything that allows that buzzing, ticking, those pinpricks upon pinpricks. His care and concern washes over you, paternal in a different way than Patton operates, and it’s why Deceit is so comforting to be around. He manages a respite from vexation, a refuge in sanctuary, discreet freedom for the flawed, defeated dreamer.

“I’m mad. I’m mad that they hurt you, Lo-Lo. I want them to feel the pain you’re feeling,” Remus mutters, frigid and defeated, head bowed and gaze distant in that transparent manner of his that easily broadcasts all of his thoughts and feelings and wishes. Logan feels the pride welling up in his chest without even realizing it, quietly delighted at the progress Remus has made in being clear and forthcoming with his emotions and impulsivity. A weary grin makes its way onto his face, predictably aggravating the soreness in his cheeks, yet he finds himself indifferent to it, unperturbed by the plight that’s ravaged his body for the day, and probably longer without his notice. He wants to reassure the younger twin, to smile and laugh and brush all of it off, but his eyelids droop, and a pathetic mewl is the only thing able to escape his lungs. Of course, since there’s something Logan wants to say, Deceit somehow knows how to communicate it, just as prompt and courteous and perceptive as always.

“We can talk about this later after Logan has slept. Don’t worry too much, Rem, and don’t do anything stupid. If you get angry again, please go to your paints instead of your legs,” Deceit instructs, more of a suggestion than a demand, but he hopes Remus will listen and be mindful anyway. The latter of the two bounces his leg anxiously, grumbling unintelligibly under his breath as he stands up in one swift, fluid motion. As Remus makes his way over to exit the room, Logan nudges Deceit’s hand with his head gently, trying to bring his attention back to the massaging motion that ceased sometime during the conversation. The snake-like side’s eyes flick downward to meet the smaller side’s own half-lidded, teetering gaze, and he huffs a laugh after a moment of searching. Logan doesn’t know what he finds, but he realizes that he doesn’t really care that much about worrying over every little interaction anymore.

Remus finally turns and glances back as he swings the door open, brows still furrowed and shoulders still hunched, but simply shakes his head and leaves. The door closes much softer than before, thankfully, so as not to be too harsh on Logan’s migraine, an unusually conscientious thought from someone that rarely shows consideration to the needs of others that the logical side appreciates that much more. As the sound of Remus’ footsteps slowly fade with his retreat down the hallway, the two of them left are bathed in silence, one that is marginally less heavy and thick than before.

A small while passes afterward, only punctuated by soft breathing and light scratching noises from nails trailing through messy hair. Logan feels like he might pass out any minute, what with the comfortable, quiet understanding the two have come to rest at, but some part of him says to wait, to push through the mind-numbing exhaustion for just a little while longer. That part of him is probably just being considerate toward Deceit, who Logan can’t imagine would be very comfortable with another side falling asleep on him and laying on him for an extended period of time, but he figures that it’s a good of a reason as any. It’s not about him feeling like a burden. It’s not.

Eventually, Deceit must start to get tired as well, or maybe he’s sore from Logan’s weight on his legs, so he sits forward, apologizing quietly for disturbing the peace, and he moves them into a more comfortable position. The new arrangement is far more snug and cozy than the previous one, Logan thinks drowsily, as his head hits the pillow across from Deceit. They lay there on top of the blankets but make no move to pull them up, just content to stare lazily at one another in the dim, ambient light cast by the desk lamp in the opposite corner of the room.

“Why?” Logan finally asks, and although he loathes disrupting the silence, he needs to ask. The words are scratchy in his tender throat, a charcoal whisper on a steel canvas that scratches and sketches away with nothing viable left to keep through the wind that blows the dark dust off the surface. “Why are you helping me? Why do you care?”

Deceit just hums, sending Logan a weak, distracted smile. He mulls over the words, tossing about the meaning and possibilities in his head and on his silver tongue, rushing in an uncertain river through valleys of golden sand.

“I am self-preservation at its core. I exist to keep Thomas safe and healthy and thriving, and that also means you and the other sides by extension. But… it’s not just that. Even though I feel physical pain whenever one of you or Thomas is hurt, I specifically want to help you because… I care about you, Logan. I love you, and want to see you healthy and happy. I haven’t really been doing a good job of that lately,” Deceit mutters, gaze somewhere on their shared pillow, and there’s a quality to his tone that’s bitter beyond the line of frustration. Although Deceit doesn’t expand on it, doesn’t offer up a single clarification despite the heavy air and his resigned demeanour, Logan gets it. He understands, and he wants to prove him wrong.

So he does.

And that comes in the form of surging forward, fighting against the current, the pinpricks in his stomach and shoulders and abdomen, disregarding the exhaustion for just a little while longer so that he can let Deceit’s lips meet his own. Logan’s so close he can feel the shocked rush of air leave Deceit’s nose, feel the vibrations through the air as his body trembles in fear and anticipation and relief. The other side eases in, sinks closer, closer, and finally moves his lips in a careful, emotional dance that leaves Logan dizzy and breathless, for entirely different reasons that have plagued him for the past day.

“Lo,” Deceit breathes, low, wanting, and he pulls back to give Logan a chance to catch up. A scaled hand comes up to caress the logical side’s cheek, a soothing, cool balm for the raw skin beginning to heal there. “I didn’t… I didn’t think…”

“I love you,” Logan breathes, the words he’s refused to say, to acknowledge, to confront welling up through his throat and for the first time, he lets them spill out. The dam has broken, debris left to descend and submerge in the depths of the sentiment crashing through in a roaring, passionate rapid at the narrowest point yet. The words come, and they don’t stop, and Logan almost can’t believe how right they feel on his tongue. “I love you, I love you, I–I love you so much, Dee.”

Logan is like a rubber band, pulled taut and still and trembling under the pressure. And maybe he’ll split, shoot apart, torn in two pieces that will never fit back together again. But maybe he won’t. Maybe instead of snapping in half, he’ll snap back, and that thought alone gives him a quiet comfort that he’s not used to allowing himself. He’s waiting, hoping, and he’s okay enough for now.

[miguel-manbemel]

Aspects & Fanfics Ep. 33: Who Dares Enter the Library!?

Here comes a new episode of this fanfic inspired on Sanders Sides by Thomas Sanders and Joan S. It is the first episode after “Selfishness v. Selflessness Redux”. I had this episode finished since last Wednesday. I didn’t want to release it yet as I wanted to get over with the Eurovision thing first. But in the meantime, the episode was released and [SPOILER ALERT, DONT READ FURTHER UNTIL YOU’VE WATCHED THE SANDERS SIDES EPISODE] we got Deceit’s name in it. Of course I wanted to include it in the fanfic as soon as possible, and it was fortunate that this episode features a scene where I could fit in the revelation more organically, and I added an extra scene featuring that revelation. As you know if you’ve followed the story for some time, it’s been ages since this fic got away from canon. It only follows the canon up to Embarrasing Phases, then later a little bit of Selfishness v. Selflessness part 1 was retconned in the story. But the rest is completely ignored in this story, if something canon had to be added, like Remus, it was added with an alternate fanon storyline totally different from canon. That means that Deceit’s name revelation won’t be a mimic of the canon, it just wouldn’t have fit in. I hope I could make justice to the revelation in this alternate universe. And with this said, let’s go with the episode, which I hope you enjoy. Until next time.

SYNOPSIS: Since Logan said goodbye to Patton, he hasn’t shown up in the Mind Palace. That was three weeks ago and Thomas has started showing signs of losing his capacity for logical thinking, and he’s also started losing pieces of knowledge that he had well learnt and secured in his mind. Deducing that Logan’s physical integrity may be compromised, Patton has to break his promise to Logan and tell them what happened, and they all will have to follow him through the front door in Logan’s room to wherever he’s gone, to check if he’s all right and rescue him if he needs to.

WARNING: There’s a slight horror scene featuring a chase by a monstrous creature. Lots of romantic logicality and dukeceit. There’s also a scene where one of the main characters is on the verge of death.

EPISODE INDEX

[Thomas is in the kitchen, cooking something]

THOMAS: Okay… Oof… if only I remembered where was the recipe for these pancakes… I think for one person it was… eleven eggs, one cup of flour and eighty tablespoons of sugar?

[Thomas adds these measures into a bowl, then tries to mix it but the resulting syrup becomes impossible to work with]

THOMAS: I guess it wasn’t. And I was thinking on going on MasterChef to boost my popularity… Gordon Ramsey would bake me if he saw my cooking expertise right now…

[intro sequence]

THOMAS: And what’s weird is that I was going so great with my cooking learning, and I suddenly lost it. Maybe it’s stress or something, I don’t know… But what I know is that Patton would kill me if he saw this mess… [face of realization] Wait, maybe Patton can lend me a hand. He’s become a top chef with breakfast cooking. I hope he can help me, I’m gonna need it if I want a proper breakfast. Patton! Patton, could you come here, please?

PATTON: [rising up] Hi, Thomas. How may I… [noticing the mess in the kitchen] what… is going on here, kiddo? Did the blender go crazy or something? Or are you trying to blend in with the kitchen, somehow? Cause you’re covered in… whatever you were trying to make.

THOMAS: I know, sorry, I made a mess in the kitchen and I need your help.

PATTON: But Thomas, I thought you were becoming an expert on cooking, especially… pancakes? Is that what you were trying to make? But… kiddo, you already have plenty of experience with pancakes, you make them at least twice a week. You should already know this recipe by heart.

THOMAS: I know, Patton. After so many times making them, one would think that I would have learned how to make them. But for some reason, I can’t, Patton. I’ve just turn into a mess of a cook.

PATTON: Well, I can help you with the recipe if you want.

THOMAS: That’s exactly why I called you, Patton, any help is appreciated with these pancakes.

[Roman, Virgil and Chris rise up]

ROMAN: Did someone say pancakes?

THOMAS: Morning, guys.

VIRGIL: May we join in, Thomas? We haven’t had breakfast yet and I’m in the mood for a family gathering.

CHRIS: Me too. Besides, I never tried pancakes before.

THOMAS: Well, you’re in for a treat, then, Chris. I love them with any kind of topping, but the best is motor oil without a doubt.

[All the Sides look at Thomas with a face of disgust]

ROMAN: Thomas, are you okay? What you have just said doesn’t make any sense. Motor oil on pancakes? That’s disgusting!

CHRIS: Not to mention poisonous. It sounds as if Remus had suddenly possessed you… Yuk.

THOMAS: What? It totally makes sense to me. The most logical topping for pancakes is grease oil pancakes. Everybody knows that.

PATTON: Um… no, kiddo, you’re obviously wrong and that is not… [face of realization] logical… at all… [low voice] Oh no…

VIRGIL: Is there something wrong, dad?

THOMAS: Yes, Patton, what’s the matter?

PATTON: I… I had promised Logan that I wouldn’t tell you but…

VIRGIL: Speaking about Logan, where is he? I haven’t seen him in ages.

PATTON: Neither did I, son. Neither did I… For the past three weeks I haven’t seen him. And he made me promise I wouldn’t tell you, but… something’s wrong with him, I can feel it. I have to break my promise and I hope he’ll forgive me.

CHRIS: What is going on, granddad?

THOMAS: Yes, where is Logan?

PATTON: He wouldn’t tell me, Thomas. The last time I saw him, he was so concerned, so worried… He told me he had to go somewhere and he had no choice. He made me promise that I wouldn’t tell you and that I wouldn’t follow him, if you had heard how seriously he ordered me not to do that… Then… he gave me a kiss, a kiss that was full of angst and despair, as if he knew there was a chance that was gonna be his last chance to kiss me forever. Then he left through the front door of his room and locked the door behind him. I’ve been tempted to break my promise myself several times, but the door is locked, so I couldn’t open it without asking for your help, and I couldn’t tell you, so… I’ve been so worried ever since. Concern would have kept me awake every night. I only fall asleep because you do, Thomas. But despite sleeping every night, that hasn’t given me peace, cause I’ve been having horrible nightmares all these nights. Nightmares where Logan calls for my help and I don’t pay attention to him.

THOMAS: [a little angry] No wonder you’re having nightmares! You should have told me, Patton. Logan should have told me he was going away. Of course it’s so hard for me to follow recipes and perform logical judgments. My sense of logic is out of reach.

PATTON: That’s what scares me the most. He told me he was entering autopilot mode so that you wouldn’t have any problems in that regard. Something must have happened to him if not even autopilot can keep your logical functions intact.

ROMAN: Maybe we should go after him. Maybe he needs our help.

PATTON: [nervous with a face of full angst] But he was strict about that. He didn’t want us to go after him, no matter if he took a long time to come back. I really wish to do as you say, Roman, but what if, by doing so, we put Logan, or us, in danger? I… I don’t know what to do. God help me, I don’t know what’s right or wrong anymore!

[Virgil hugs Patton]

VIRGIL: Worrying is my job, dad. Please calm down.

PATTON: I’m sorry, Virgil, it’s just that… he could be in danger because I waited too long to call for help, and on the other hand, I’m also betraying his trust because I told you and I’m willing to go after him when I promised him not to do so. Whatever I do, it makes me feel guilty, and it’s a horrible feeling.

VIRGIL: I’m so sorry you’ve had to go through this all alone, dad. But you’re not alone anymore, so please, calm down. Breath like I taught you… remember, 4, 7, 8…

PATTON: Okay… thanks son.

ROMAN: Okay, while Patton does the breathing exercise, I think it’s time for an emergency meeting. We should call the others.

THOMAS: You’re right. Logan, Deceit, Remus, Honesty, could you come here please!?

[they all rise up, except Remus who pops up and of course Logan who doesn’t show up at all]

PATTON: [after breathing out for eight seconds and before breathing in for four seconds] Why did you call Logan? Obviously he’s not gonna answer.

THOMAS: I know, sorry, it’s the habit. I always call Logan in a meeting like this. It’s so weird having to tackle an emergency without him.

DECEIT: Where is Logan? What is going on here?

ROMAN: [motor mouth] In short, Logan is gone, we don’t know where he’s gone other than he’s gone through the front door in his room and he asked Patton not to tell us, forbidding him and us to follow him. But now Thomas is losing his sense of logic and now we think Logan could be in danger, so we’re pondering the possibility of following him to wherever he’s gone despite the fact that he seriously instructed Patton not to do so. [takes a deep breath] Is that clear?

DECEIT: Sort… sort of… I think… When did Logan go away?

PATTON: It was the very same night you two started dating.

REMUS: Three weeks ago, then? What could Nerdyman be doing out there for so long? I mean, I’ve had long wild parties in my life just like anybody else, but that’s the wildest party I’ve ever heard about!

HONESTY: Whatever it is, it is important or dangerous enough that he didn’t want us to mess about with it.

PATTON: I myself don’t care about the danger on myself. I just wanna go with him and check that he’s okay. But I don’ have the heart to ask you to follow me.

THOMAS: Of course we’re going with you, Patton. We all care about Logan too and certainly we’re not leaving you alone anymore.

CHRIS: Logan is my someday-to-be-grandfather-in-law. He’s my family just as much as you are, so you can count on my sword and shield to assist you, granddad.

ROMAN: Same on my part, Patton, my samurai sword is at your service.

VIRGIL: And I’m not leaving you either dad. We’re doing this together.

HONESTY: Logan risked his life in order to find a way to save mine. Of course I’m willing to return him the favor if he needs me.

DECEIT: He speaks for both of us, right Remus?

REMUS: [a little hesitant] Well… [after Deceit frowns at him] Of course, if it’s important to you, it’s important to me. Count on my Morningstar to assist you, Catboy.

PATTON: [a little emotional] Thank you so much, my wonderful kiddos. I love you all so much.

THOMAS: Of course. Now, enough talking. You said he left through the front door in his room, so let’s go to his room now…

PATTON: First, eat something, Thomas, you didn’t even make your breakfast and you can’t go anywhere with an empty stomach. [pulling them out] Here, I just made some cookies. I have cookies for everyone. It’s the only thing I’ve been doing for the past three weeks since it was the only way I could distract my mind.

THOMAS: [grabbing some cookies] Thank you so much, Patton. I’ll eat them on the way.

PATTON: Also, take these paper towels and clean yourself a bit. It’s impractical to go on a mission like that.

THOMAS: Thanks, dad… Now, if you’re ready… [waits, but Patton doesn’t interrupt him anymore] Okay, let’s go, guys.

[The gang sinks down, then they rise up in Logan’s room]

THOMAS: Well, here we are… wow, I’m starting to feel back to normal right now, all my knowledge of recipes has suddenly returned to my head. And I’m feeling so stupid right now over making such foolish mistakes with the pancakes…

HONESTY: Maybe it’s because now you’re physically closer to Logan and his influence reaches you better from his room.

THOMAS: Maybe… Okay, so, we need to go through the front door. [Thomas goes to the door and tries to open it, but it’s locked. He looks through the peephole] I can’t… I can’t see anything other than a weird indigo light, like some sort of bright fog… What the heck is out there?

PATTON: I don’t know, Thomas. None of us know what lies ahead of the others’ front doors, except Roman’s and Remus’ which is of course Sandersia.

THOMAS: So each of you have a different place outside of your front door? What do you guys have?

PATTON: I don’t think it’s the right moment to ask, Thomas. Let’s focus on Logan’s door for the time being.

THOMAS: Okay… Well, the door is locked, as you said, Patton. How do we open it?

PATTON: We cannot, Thomas. You, as the Mind Palace’s owner, are the only one who can summon a key that can unlock this door.

THOMAS: But I usually can’t summon things. That’s a thing usually only you, the Sides, can do.

PATTON: This thing in particular, you certainly can. Just imagine it in your hand and wish for it to be there with faith and conviction, and the key will come to you.

THOMAS: Okay, I’ll try…

[Thomas rises his palm, then grimaces as he looks at it, as if he was struggling, his face even goes red. In a matter of seconds, a small key appears on his hand]

THOMAS: [happy] It worked! I did it!

REMUS: Yes, you did it, but… next time, Thomas, there’s no need for you to put a face as if you were constipated on the toilet. I enjoyed the view, though, it was funny.

THOMAS: [frowning at Remus] Thanks, Remus, I’ll remember next time… Okay, time to open the door. I hope this key really works.

[Thomas inserts the key in the keyhole, then turns it and the door unlocks perfectly]

THOMAS: Yep, it worked. Let’s go, then…

[Thomas opens the door. Outside, he can only see the same indigo bright fog, although he sees a point of light in a distance]

THOMAS: That looks like a lighthouse of some kind in the middle of this fog… Okay, guys, that light seems important, so we’ll go straight there. It’s impossible to see in this fog, so don’t spread out, I don’t want anyone getting lost, got it?

PATTON: Got it, Thomas… But how will we get back?

THOMAS: We’ll leave the door wide open, so that the light inside can help us find it on the way back, although I hope we have Logan to guide us back when that moment comes.

[Thomas and the Sides get through the door. Then they all walk in a line towards the light. As they get closer, they realize the light comes from a huge dark building, tall and wide beyond view]

THOMAS: What… what is this place? It’s huge, I can’t see where it ends. Look, the light is just over a door… and there’s a sign on it. It reads… “Library”. Library? This is a library? What kind of library, and why didn’t Logan ever mention it?

[Thomas tries to open the door. It opens easily, and they’re greeted with a view of huge, endless shelves full of books in all directions. Thomas and the Sides enter the building]

THOMAS: So… so many books, but what’s in them?

[A huge tempest-tongue-like voice with a robotic touch, like the autotune or Cher effect, is heard]

VOICE: WHO DARES ENTER THE LIBRARY!?

THOMAS: Who… who’s there?

VOICE: I’m the Librarian and you are trespassing! This place is forbidden to you, so begone right now!

ROMAN: Forbidden? There are no forbidden places for Thomas. He’s the owner of the whole Mind Palace, whoever you are!

LIBRARIAN: FOOLS! Thomas especially shouldn’t be here! This place is dangerous for him, much more for all the rest of you! Begone, now!

THOMAS: I refuse to leave until you show yourself! Let us see you!

[A dark figure appears walking on top of one of the selves. At first they don’t recognize him, then Patton’s face lightens up]

PATTON: Logan! Is that you, Logan!? Thank God you’re fine, I was so worried!

[but Logan doesn’t answer. Soon Patton’s happiness turns into horror when they can see his face clearly. His eyes are two bright burning lights of an indigo color, and his skin is pail and gray. It’s like he’s become a mixture of his human form and his robot-puppet form]

THOMAS: Logan, what happened to you?

LIBRARIAN: I told you I’m the Librarian. I’m the owner of this place and this is my sanctuary of knowledge. Do not touch any of the books for all the knowledge of whatever has happened in your life, as well as your plans for the future, is written in these pages, and if you damage just one single book, you could be destroying invaluable knowledge from your own mind, with disastrous consequences. So, once again, begone.

THOMAS: If you’re not Logan, then where is he?

LIBRARIAN: Logan is part of me, he always was, and forever will be.

PATTON: What do you mean? Where is he?

LIBRARIAN: Logan and I are two faces of the same coin. We’ve always existed together. He always calls me when he needs some kind of knowledge or fact in your mundane conversations and I provide it from inside of him. Who do you think that gave him the power to inspect your memories by touching you? It was me. I’ve been watching him, witnessing how he’s been degrading himself little by little, seeing how much your emotional mess of a world has corrupted him. Now, he even thinks he’s in love. So disgusting. But I’ll take care of cleaning him up from these useless distracting thoughts. Under my control, he’ll turn back into what he always should have been, the clean emotionless logical aspect of Thomas, the only way he can be useful to anyone.

PATTON: Don’t you dare!

THOMAS: Who gave you the right to decide in someone else’s place what is good or bad for them?

LIBRARIAN: I know Logan better than anyone else. I know what’s best for him and I’ll make him do it even in spite of him if I must.

THOMAS: Seems you don’t know him so well if you want to push him back into his old life of denying his emotions. I won’t let you do this. The brain must always be connected with feelings.

LIBRARIAN: What an abhorrent aberration! Brains and feelings must never mix up. It’s disgusting and I won’t let it happen!

PATTON: Why don’t you let Logan speak for himself!? We want to speak to the real Logan, right now!

LIBRARIAN: Well, I guess I can let you say your last words to him… Be quick, though, every second I’m in touch with these feelings makes me sick.

[the lights in Logan’s eyes disappear and Logan looks at the others]

LOGAN: Patton, guys, what are you doing here? I told you not to follow me! I didn’t want you to see me like this!

PATTON: I know, Logan, but I had to, Thomas was getting affected by your absence, cause your autopilot is switching off. Please don’t be mad at me.

LOGAN: It’s okay, I understand, and I’m not mad at you, but this is too dangerous for you! I didn’t want you to go through this! This is a fight I should have done on my own!

THOMAS: If you knew this could happen, why did you come here in the first place?

LOGAN: I had no choice, I have to come here at least once a year to upload my new knowledge into the library, or else I would get overloaded and incapable of getting new content for you, and also your logical functions would be compromised if my memory bank got overflown. But I knew that here the Librarian that’s always been inside of me would be heightened to a point where he could take control of my whole self, and I always knew he wasn’t happy I started a relationship with Patton. I could feel him rebelling against it inside of me, and I knew he’d take his chance when I had to come here. I tried to fight him, but here, he’s too strong. I may be losing the fight… but he’s not in full control yet, though. I’m still fighting him. Although since you’re here, I could use some help from you, guys.

THOMAS: How can we help you?

LOGAN: You must… [his eyes start glowing faintly and Logan starts struggling to speak] …you must find the indigo book… it’s the only book in this library… that can help me right now…

THOMAS: The indigo book? But this place is huge, how can we find it among all these millions of books?

LOGAN: [still struggling, as the lights flicker in his eyes] Find… the catalog in the center of the Library… it will tell you… where the indigo book lies… you’ll find everything you need to know in its pages… Hurry up, please… I don’t know how long I can resist… Help… me… Patton… I… lov…

[the lights start glowing as bright as before and he stops struggling]

LIBRARIAN: Why do you insist on making this more difficult for yourself and your friends? I’m doing this for your own good, Logan! Stop fighting me! [to Thomas and the others] And you, don’t you dare listening to his words. I won’t let you get to the catalog! I’ll stop you by force if I have to!

THOMAS: It will not be so easy for you. [whistles as if calling a pet dog] Remus?

REMUS: [excited smile, would have wiggled his tail if he had one] Yes, Thomas?

THOMAS: Do you wanna have fun?

REMUS: [hopping] I’m always ready for fun!

THOMAS: [as if he was telling a dog to fetch a toy] Then go get him! But don’t overdo it. Remember that it’s still Logan’s body, don’t cause him any permanent damages.

REMUS: [pulls out his Morningstar and jumps off-screen towards the Librarian] Yeeeha!

THOMAS: Good boy! The rest of you, come with me. We need to get to the center of the Library and check the catalog while Remus distracts him. Let’s go!

DECEIT: Be careful, Rem!

REMUS: [off-screen singsongy voice, the sound of the Morningstar is heard bumping on something several times] Okay, sweetheart!

[Thomas and the Sides run away into the Library, going through the corridor past shelves and shelves]

ROMAN: This is so huge. How far is the center anyway?

PATTON: I’m not used to run for so long… I can barely breath.

VIRGIL: Keep going, dad… We don’t know for how long Remus will be able to keep the Librarian distracted. Maybe he’s started chasing us already.

THOMAS: If the center was too far away, Logan wouldn’t have sent us into this mission. He knows it’s possible, so we must keep going, guys.

DECEIT: It’s easier said than done, though…

[a voice is heard around the whole building]

LIBRARIAN: I command you to come back immediately! Or else I’ll make you pay for this, like your stupid green guy has just paid!

DECEIT: What? What has he done to Remus!?

HONESTY: You don’t wanna know, Dee! Keep running or you’ll go through the same fate, whatever it is! We’ll think about that later! He’s obviously chasing us right now, and who knows how fast he runs!

THOMAS: Look, guys! There’s a round room over there! Maybe that’s the center!

[Thomas and the Sides reach to that room. It has a round shape and many corridors like the one they came from end there. In the center, there’s a table with a huge folder. Thomas approaches the folder, trying to recover breath after the long run. The other Sides stand on the entrance of the corridor they came from]

THOMAS: This must be the catalog Logan talked about… Now what?

PATTON: Open that folder and look inside.

[Thomas opens the folder and reads the first page]

THOMAS: It’s an alphabetical index with the topics that are inside these books, with coordinates to find them.

PATTON: Then search for the indigo book Logan mentioned.

ROMAN: [pulling out his samurai sword] We’ll cover you up while you’re searching, Thomas. Hurry!

CHRIS: [pulling out his sword] I was waiting for the day where I would fight alongside you, father.

ROMAN: So did I, son, it will be an honor to share this battle with you.

[Thomas turns to letter I for indigo. Thomas keeps browsing through the different topics starting with letter I until he reaches the key word]

THOMAS: Here it is… but there are still several topics containing the word indigo… let’s see…

ROMAN: There he comes… [horrified, looking at what approaches them, which is not featured on screen] my goodness gracious… what’s that thing!?

CHRIS: It looks like a horrible creature… like one of those Eldritch abominations that appear in horror stories… Is that monster the Librarian!?

ROMAN: Whoever or whatever that is… we must buy Thomas some time… Let’s go get him!

CHRIS: I’m right with you, father!

[Roman and Chris charge towards the creature, sounds of fighting are heard off-screen]

THOMAS: Indigo book! There it is! Patton, grab some of that paper and that pencil to write the coordinates. Ready? Corridor R… Side C… Block P… Shelf F… Book R… Page M… Page? Why marking a specific page from a book in a catalog? Oh, whatever… Did you write it down, Patton?

PATTON: Yes, Thomas, everything.

[Thomas and Patton look around the room]

THOMAS: You see? Each corridor has a plate with a letter identifying it, and each side of the corridor has another letter identifying it… Here, this is corridor R. The left side has a C and the right side has a B, so it has to be on the left side of this corridor. Let’s go, Patton, before it’s too late.

VIRGIL: I’m going with you too, just in case you need protection. [to the other Sides] Guys, hold on as much as you can.

HONESTY: We’ll try, Virge. Now go.

[Thomas, Patton and Virgil enter corridor R, looking at the left side of the shelves. Every few shelves there’s a letter, starting with B, only omitting vowels]

PATTON: These must be the blocks. We must get to block P, so let’s get moving. If there are no vowels, it is the twelfth block.

[Thomas, Patton and Virgil run through the different blocks. After some running, they get to the block with the letter P]

THOMAS: Okay, the indigo book must be around here. My, there are so many books in this block…

PATTON: It’s good we got all the letters from the catalog to find it faster. It was shelf F. The lowest shelf is B, so it’s the fourth shelf starting from the bottom. And it’s the R book. Each book has a label on the spine with a letter on it. Again, no vowels. B… C… D… F… G…

[Honesty reaches them running]

HONESTY: Guys, you better hurry! Deceit asked me to go warn you when Roman and Chris started getting exhausted. The creature is too strong and they’re running out of strength to fight.

THOMAS: We almost have it, Hon…

[A huge yell is heard from the distance, then they hear ferocious beastly growling sounds approaching them]

HONESTY: That was Dee! The creature must have defeated them! And now it is heading this way! Hurry up!

PATTON: P… Q… Here it is, R!

[Patton picks up the book from the shelf and gives it to Thomas. At that precise point, the growling suddenly stops and there is a tense silence]

HONESTY: Where… where did that thing go? He was almost here!

VIRGIL: This silence is even worse than the beastly sounds…

THOMAS: Maybe it’s because I got the book and he’s afraid to damage something important for him if he attacks us upfront. Look, there are several bookmarks in the book, each with different letters. Again, no vowels… What is it with this place and vowels? What letter was it, Patton?

PATTON: It was M.

LIBRARIAN: [from the top of the shelf they got the book from] Stop right where you are! Don’t open that book! You’re gonna doom us all!

THOMAS: I hope you don’t expect us to believe you, Librarian. I bet the only one to be doomed by the book is you!

VIRGIL: You, monster! What have you done with our friends!?

LIBRARIAN: I didn’t kill them if that’s what you’re thinking! I just rendered them unconscious and expelled them out of the Library back into Logan’s room!

VIRGIL: Yeah, right, and you needed to turn into a beast just to do that!

LIBRARIAN: I was just trying to scare you out of here, I don’t want you to mess everything up!

THOMAS: Here it is. Bookmark M.

[Thomas opens the book]

LIBRARIAN: [distressed] I said don’t do that!

THOMAS: Or else, what? You’ll turn into a beast again and “scare” us all? Go ahead and try, if you don’t care about ruining any of the books, that is.

LIBRARIAN: Fine… suit yourself. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

[Thomas reads the page. Then, he shows a face of shock]

LIBRARIAN: I warned you.

PATTON: What’s the matter, Thomas? What’s in that page?

THOMAS: Patton… we can’t do this… it’s too dangerous.

PATTON: [snatching the book from Thomas’ hands] Let me see this! [Patton reads aloud] Should the Logical Side lose control of the Librarian, the only way he can regain control back is for the Light Master to force him into total inhibition until all signs of life are gone from him, then bringing him back to life. It acts as a reset action that would restore him back to normal. During inhibition, if the Logical Side didn’t put himself in autopilot mode beforehand, Thomas could lose his logical thinking capacities and become completely demented until inhibition is reverted. Autopilot prevents this from happening. Fair warning though that if not performed correctly or inside the window time of five minutes after total inhibition, the Logical Side would perish permanently. Should that happen, a brand new Logical Side, completely unrelated to the old one, would immediately be generated from the Mind Palace Core to assume Thomas’ logical functions. [Patton looks at Thomas with a face of horror] This… is so dangerous… Logan could literally die.

THOMAS: And I don’t know how to do this. Logan was the one who advised me on how to use my Light Master powers and I can’t count on him to help me. Without him, I’m lost. And I don’t have the heart to put him in danger.

LIBRARIAN: Give it up. If you try to do this, you’ll kill Logan. Let me take care of him. I assure you I will treat him right in this Library. He won’t even miss you when you’re gone and he’ll be fine, as long as I tell him what is fine for him.

PATTON: Falsehood! [Thomas and the Sides look at Patton in shock after hearing Logan’s trademark word on Patton’s lips] With you controlling him, he would be nothing but your slave! If you really cared about Logan, you would let him live his life the way he wants, with me, with all of us! Because we’re the ones who would really treat him right, just by letting him be himself. You just want to mold him to your own idea of what Logan should be, no matter how shoehorned that idea may be. It’s that fake Logan you care about, not the real one. You’re just jealous of his happiness because you can’t understand feelings at all! You’ll never be able to understand love or hate, happiness or sadness, and because of that, you will always be inferior to Logan! No matter how powerful you think you are, without emotions, you are nothing! Thomas, we must do this.

THOMAS: Patton, are you sure? We could kill him! It’s too big of a risk!

PATTON: While he’s the slave of that thing, he’s as good as dead anyway, eternally suffering after his yoke. This creature is even worse than the Dark Master himself. At least the Dark Master had a basic understanding of feelings, even if he used it for evil. I will not have Logan going through that hell. We must set him free, one way… or another, however painful it may be.

THOMAS: But I don’t know if I can do this.

PATTON: Thomas, I have faith in you. You have already learned enough of your Light Master powers to do a great deal of things and you’ve become really powerful. Maybe you don’t believe in yourself in that regard, but I do believe in you. Just enter Light Master mode and you’ll know what to do. I’m rooting for you, kiddo.

[Patton gives a father-like kiss on the forehead to Thomas and the brightest comforting smile he can come up with given the circumstances. Thomas gives a slightly emotional smile to Patton]

THOMAS: Okay, I’ll do everything I can. It’s good that Logan had entered autopilot mode beforehand. At least he had the vision to do that.

PATTON: Or maybe his intuition told him this could happen and he wanted to be ready. Which is a proof that even Logan has faith in you. He knew that you have what it takes to save him. If you don’t want to trust me, trust him.

THOMAS: [sighs and closes his eyes] Okay… [opens his eyes, they’re now blue] Then let’s do this.

LIBRARIAN: No, I demand you to…

THOMAS: Be quiet, Librarian! I’m the one who demands you to release Logan, right now! This is your only warning, leave him in peace or be ready for the consequences!

LIBRARIAN: Never! He’s mine now! You don’t have what it takes! I’m not afraid of you and I’ll never set Logan free!

THOMAS: You asked for this, then. I said, get out of him, now!

[Thomas points at the Librarian and it’s as if an invisible hand pulls from him and throws him down from the top of the shelf, falling on the ground]

THOMAS: Get out of Logan’s body, right now!

[the Librarian’s body starts shaking violently]

PATTON: The power of Patton compels you!

[everyone looks at Patton]

PATTON: Sorry, I got carried away…

[Thomas keeps pointing at the Librarian. His violent convulsions slowly start getting weaker]

LIBRARIAN: Stop! I’m getting weak… I’m losing myself… I don’t wanna go… Please… I beg… [singing weakly, his voice slowly gets weaker and weaker] Daisy… Daisy… Give me your answer do… I'm half crazy… All for the love of…

[the singing and the convulsions stop, then, the bright eyes slowly turn off and Logan’s skin loses it’s gray silvery tone, to be replaced by white pail. Logan looks weakly to Thomas with a peaceful expression, he mouths a “thank you” without strength to emit any sound, then he gets still with that same expression of peace looking at Thomas, as if he had just died]

PATTON: Logan!

[Patton jumps to Logan’s body]

PATTON: He’s cold as marble stone! I think he’s dead! Now, you have to revive him, quickly! Five minutes starting now!

[Thomas starts struggling. For the next two minutes, nothing happens]

VIRGIL: Oh, God, I hope he can do it…

PATTON: He can do it! Come on, Thomas! Logan, if you can hear me somehow, fight to come back! Please, don’t leave me!

[Thomas still struggles. Then, a white spark comes from his hand and lands on Logan’s chest. He has a violent convulsion. His skin recovers some color for a second, then reverts back to pail]

PATTON: Something happened there. You can do this, Thomas. How long do we have left?

HONESTY: [looking at his phone] Less than two minutes.

[Thomas struggles even harder. A spark bigger than the previous one jumps from his hand and hits Logan. He has another violent convulsion. He breaths for a second, but then stops breathing again]

PATTON: Let me help you, Thomas. Perhaps the energy of two can be strong enough to bring him back.

[Patton kisses Logan’s forehead, then approaches Thomas, touches his shoulder and concentrates. A light blue aura surrounds both of them. Thomas emits another spark, this one of a light blue color and dramatically stronger than the previous ones which impacts on Logan. This time, he starts having continuous convulsions, as if he was being electrified]

PATTON: Come on, Logan. Fight for me… Don’t leave me alone…

[the convulsions keep going for two minutes, then he stops shaking. There are no visible signs of life from him]

PATTON: Lo… Logan?

HONESTY: The time is up. The five minutes are gone.

[Patton looks at Logan with a face of horror and tears start falling down his cheeks]

PATTON: This can’t be! Logan!

[Patton runs to Logan and holds to him, crying]

THOMAS: [Also crying, his eyes have turned back to brown] I’m sorry, Patton. I swear that I tried my best…

[then suddenly, Logan starts coughing and struggling to breath, and Patton quickly retreats. The coughing stops and Logan opens his eyes weakly, then notices Patton next to him. Patton is too stunned to react]

LOGAN: [weak voice] I was… I was being dragged into the Mind Palace’s Core light… when an angel approached me… an angel with a blue polo shirt, a gray cat hoodie around his shoulders and a bright heart that shone into his chest, so full of love it was overwhelmingly heartwarming, it could compete with the Core itself in brightness… He told me he still needed me and grabbed me back…

[Patton starts laughing and crying like a baby at the same time, not able to say anything coherent, then hugs Logan, who weakly hugs him back]

VIRGIL: [crying emotional, his tears are black due to the eyeshadow] Thank goodness… Thank goodness…

LOGAN: [his voice is a little stronger, but still weak] Thank you, Thomas. I owe you my life… I knew if I lost control, only you could save me.

THOMAS: It was my pleasure, but I didn’t do all the work. I couldn’t have done this without Patton’s help. He’s the one who has really saved you.

LOGAN: I love you so much, Patton… When I was subjugated, the thing I feared most was for that love to get corrupted and lost… it was the only thing I didn’t want to lose, your love and the capacity to love. I didn’t want to turn back to what I was before… not ever…

[Logan tries to get up, but he finds it hard]

THOMAS: Hey, relax, buddy. Are you sure you can get up? You have just returned from death. Maybe you should rest for a while.

LOGAN: I don’t want to get up, I…

[with some difficulty, Logan first sits down, then puts himself on his knees and grabs Patton’s hands]

LOGAN: Patton, you are the man of my life. I don’t want to live my life with anyone else but you.

PATTON: Goodness…

LOGAN: I’m sorry I didn’t have time to get an aurum ring with a piece of a pure carbon crystal on it, but I hope my feelings for you are equally valuable for this proposal. Will you marry me?

[Patton smiles widely, a smile that could compete with the sun in brightness]

PATTON: Of course I will, Logan. Of course I will!

[Patton kisses Logan, then they both hug. Logan seems to lose stability due to the effort so he holds on Patton]

LOGAN: I’m so happy now. I’m sad I’m not strong enough to show you right now, but I am…

PATTON: Don’t worry, my heart can show happiness enough for two. Now, rest. Here, lie on my shoulder.

[Logan lies on Patton’s shoulder while Patton pets his hand sweetly]

HONESTY: [to Thomas, whispering] Hey, you, the chemical engineer… What did Logan say he wanted his ring to be made of?

THOMAS: [emotional] A ring made of gold with a diamond on it, of course… I’m so happy for you two…

VIRGIL: Okay, guys. It will be best if we get out of here now.

LOGAN: You don’t need to worry anymore, Virgil. The Librarian as you knew him no longer exists, he’s been, sort of… formatted, and now I’m the one controlling him. He won’t be a cause for trouble anymore and this place is safe again.

VIRGIL: Glad to hear that… but still, we should go back to your room right now. I wanna check that the others are fine.

[Virgil summons a wheelchair]

VIRGIL: Here, obviously I wouldn’t make you walk all the way there in your condition, sit on that and dad can carry you.

LOGAN: Sounds good. And don’t worry too much, Virge. I saw everything the Librarian did and he didn’t kill the Sides. At least in that regard, he was true. But you’re right, we should check they’re in good shape, so let’s go.

[Patton and Virgil help Logan stand up and sit on the chair]

PATTON: Are you comfy here, my love?

LOGAN: If you’re by my side, I’ll be comfy anywhere.

PATTON: I didn’t know you could be so romantic.

LOGAN: Now I have no hindrance to express my feelings. But don’t get too accustomed to it. At work, I’ll still be wearing my necktie of seriousness, cause Thomas will need me to be serious.

PATTON: That’s fair. I’ll get to enjoy the sweet version of you all by myself.

VIRGIL: Are we ready to go?

THOMAS: Just a second, guys, let me replace the indigo book where it was.

[Thomas puts the book on the shelf. He notices a piece of paper that has fallen on the floor]

THOMAS: What’s this?

LOGAN: Thomas, don’t read that. It is a piece of knowledge that could get damaged if you manipulate it. Just put it back on its shelf.

THOMAS: I don’t think it could do any harm, it’s just a little note…

[Thomas reads the note]

THOMAS: Oh… wow…

VIRGIL: What is it?

THOMAS: It is a note that apparently belongs to the indigo book. It must have fallen when we got the book in a hurry. It’s an appendix related to the process we’ve just followed and some secondary effects related to Logan.

LOGAN: [sighs] I didn’t want you to read that cause I didn’t want you to worry about me. But I said that knowledge can’t hurt you and I’ll stand by it. Tell the others.

THOMAS: It says that, should the process be performed, the Librarian’s reset will mean that the Logical Side will lose his capacity of examining other Sides’ memories or transmitting his own memories to other Sides through touch.

LOGAN: Yes, I lost my capacity of examining you. But… it’s okay. It was a price I was willing to pay. A small price, indeed, for my freedom to love.

THOMAS: It also says that, in time, these abilities would progressively return to the Logical Side, but it’s unknown how long it would take for him to get to same level he had prior to the reset, it could range from days to years. Also, intuition may be temporally compromised to a degree, although this effect is expected wear off faster. All the rest of his cognitive functions will remain intact. I’m sorry, Logan.

LOGAN: It’s okay, Thomas. Don’t worry. At least it seems it won’t be permanent. And besides, if I couldn’t count on my hands anymore to help, I’ll use what I’ve always used best, my brains. We’ll be fine.

THOMAS: Okay. I hope so.

LOGAN: Now, let’s go home. We have a wedding to start preparing, right?

PATTON: Right. And this time, there will be no Dark Masters to spoil it.

VIRGIL: I hope so.

[Thomas puts the note inside the indigo book, then they all head back to the front door through a shorter path, guided by Logan. When they reach the door, they realize that the door has changed and now looks like Thomas’ front door. After opening, they discover it does indeed lead straight into Logan’s room, and the fog they had to cross earlier is gone. In Logan’s room, they find Roman, Chris, Deceit and Remus lying down on the couch, unconscious]

VIRGIL: Guys! Are you okay?

[Virgil runs to attend his husband and son. Roman is the first to wake up, but he pretends to stay asleep, putting his lips on kiss position, like waiting for Virgil to kiss him and wake him up]

VIRGIL: [sighs with a smile of relief] You, royal dork. [kisses him] Okay, done, I gave you a true love’s kiss to wake you up, sleeping handsome. Happy?

ROMAN: Your kisses will always make me happy, my love… [he rises up and shows an expression of pain] Ow, my head.

VIRGIL: Are you okay?

ROMAN: Everything hurts… but I’ll survive. I’m sorry I couldn’t do more.

VIRGIL: You’ve done more than enough, Roman. Look who’s here with us thanks to your bravery.

ROMAN: Oh, Logan… Are you okay?

LOGAN: I’m okay. Thanks to you all, guys. I’m sorry I made you go through this.

ROMAN: It’s okay, that’s what fam’s for, right?

[slowly, the rest of the Sides wake up too]

REMUS: That guy took me by surprise… he suddenly turned into this beast and without fair warning he hit me and… I don’t remember anything else. If I had known, I would have released my tentacles to match theirs.

DECEIT: That creature was not terrifying at all…

LOGAN: It won’t cause any more trouble, thankfully. Now, since you were out when it happened, I want to announce to you all the news.

CHRIS: What news?

LOGAN: I have asked Patton to marry me, and he said yes.

CHRIS: [his face lightens up] Really!? I’m so happy! At last I’m gonna be able to call you grandfather for real!

LOGAN: And I’ll be proud to have you as grandson, boy.

REMUS: Um… Can I say something?

THOMAS: Wow, it’s the first time you ask for permission to say something, are you sure you didn’t get badly hurt by that beast? Okay, I was kidding, go ahead.

REMUS: I know that this is your moment and all that jazz, Logan, but, you’re planning a wedding and I thought that… it would be a shame to waste a ceremony just on one couple, when you can use it to join two couples, right?

DECEIT: Remus? What are you trying to say?

REMUS: I was thinking that… it would be great if we could kill to birds with one stone…

THOMAS: Of course Remus would be the first Side to use that saying…

REMUS: …and you married me the same day Logan and Patton married, in the same ceremony, a double wedding. If you accept me, of course, and if Logan and Patton don’t disagree.

DECEIT: But we’ve been dating only for three weeks. You didn’t even ask me to marry you, Remus, and you’re planning our wedding already?

REMUS: Well, it was just an idea that flashed through my head, and you know that I always say what goes through my head like that, especially when I really want to say it. So… what do you say, Dee? Will you marry me?

DECEIT: I… I don’t know… I mean, to be honest, we barely know each other. You don’t even know my name and…

REMUS: Well, that has an easy remedy. My name is Remus Sanders. What is your name?

DECEIT: [nervous smile] Wow… It’s been ages since I last shared my name… You remember well, right Virge?

VIRGIL: How could I forget? You opened yourself to me and trusted me your name. I wish I could have been able to correspond that act of trust.

DECEIT: But you have. You’ve kept the secret all these years and I thank you for that.

V

IRGIL: I did not even used it when we were both alone. It felt to me like profaning something sacred, you know?

DECEIT: Well, it’s not like you couldn’t have used my name in private with me. I’m no deity for my name to be revered as such. After all, that’s what I revealed it to you for.

VIRGIL: Okay, but still, your name inspired me such sensation, like I could break something if I spoke it aloud. Back then, I didn’t understand myself why… Now I think I do. You trusted me your feelings with that name and I didn’t want to break that trust in any way. I wish I would have understood earlier these feelings behind that revelation, Dee. Maybe things could have been different between us.

DECEIT: It’s not your fault, and besides, [looking at Remus] that’s probably how it was meant to be, after all. [sighs] Still, though, back then you were my only friend in the Dark Realm, the only one with whom I felt comfortable enough to share that secret. But when you were so oblivious about my feelings for you, in a way, I felt heartbroken, and I decided to hide my name ever since, because it reminded me of that moment. And that’s silly because you can’t run away from feelings just by avoiding using your own name, that’s stupid… Eventually, I had to face these feelings anyway, with our without my name in the equation.

VIRGIL: I’m so sorry I made you feel that way…

DECEIT: And now that Remus has asked me that question… I suddenly realized that I really wanted to answer it. In fact, I suddenly realized that I don’t have any reason to hide my name anymore. If there was a time where I felt belittled and useless and thought that I had to put a shield around myself to act all tough, hiding my true self from the others… that time has been gone for a long time now. I’m among friends now and I really want to break whatever is left from that shield and be myself. So, I’m gonna share my name with all of you, guys.

[everyone looks at Deceit in expectation. Deceit sighs, then takes a deep breath and speaks]

DECEIT: My name is Janus.

[there’s a silence in the room. Then they all smile at him]

THOMAS: It’s an honor to meet you… Janus.

JANUS: Wow, it feels so weird… it’s both a sensation of relief and ickiness… I don’t know if I’ll be able to get used to you calling me by my real name.

VIRGIL: Yeah, I know the feeling…

THOMAS: We’ll call you however you want. Your name is Janus, but you will always be our Dee in our hearts. I like your name, by the way.

JANUS: [smiles emotional] Thank you, Thomas.

HONESTY: If I may speak…

JANUS: Oh, are you going to…?

HONESTY: Yes. I’ve always known your name too, Janus, at least since we got unlocked from each other. Not surprising bearing in mind we share the same memories and for a long time the same body. I never revealed your name cause I knew how much it meant to you, and in solidarity with you, I also avoided revealing mine. It’s curious that even when we didn’t know about each other, I still didn’t want to reveal my name. Maybe back then you had an influence on me of some kind, who knows. The point is, that now that you’ve shared your name, I also want to share mine.

ROMAN: Oooh, what a day of revelations…

THOMAS: Roman, sush! Go ahead, Hon.

HONESTY: [with a posh British accent] Well, ladies and gentlemen…

ROMAN: What ladies…?

HONESTY: It is an honor to announce to all my beloved family members that my name…

[again, everyone looks at Honesty in expectation]

HONESTY: My name is Ian.

[everyone looks at Ian]

VIRGIL: I like that name.

THOMAS: Nice to meet you too, Ian.

IAN: Thanks, guys.

LOGAN: Oh, I think I understand the logic behind your names…

THOMAS: What?

LOGAN: Ian and Janus have been sharing the same body for a long time. They’ve been a Side with two faces. There is a deity in the Roman pantheon whose name is Janus, a two faced god that took charge of beginnings and endings, transitions and passages, and presided war and peace. That explains a lot of Janus’ name. And Ian… could very well be based on Ianos, the Greek version of the Latin Janus. It makes sense that, being the same Side in origin, they also share the same name origin, even if it came out in a different form for each.

IAN: Hadn’t thought about that. I only thought it looked cool to have a name so associated to British culture. Ian Flemming, creator of James Bond; Ian Chesterton, one of the Doctor’s first companions in Doctor Who; Ian McKellen, one of the best British actors and worldwide actors in general ever…

JANUS: Yes, it’s a cool name. I’m glad that we both share a name in a way, brother.

IAN: I’m glad too.

REMUS: Well, now that the introductions are over… Janus, I’m still waiting for an answer.

JANUS: [beat] Well, I told you that I don’t like weddings, remember?

REMUS: But you were lying… [voice of concern] right?

[Janus chuckles]

JANUS: Of course I was lying, you fool. I’ll be happy to marry you. What do I have to lose, anyway?

REMUS: Wheee! [Remus grabs Janus and spins around with him in his arms, they both laugh. Then Remus kisses Janus] I knew proposing was a good idea!

PATTON: As for marrying together… it’s okay by me, if Logan is not against it.

LOGAN: No, I’m not against it. It’s a family gathering after all, and you were right. It will be good to save resources and perform a single ceremony to wed two couples at once. So I’m okay with it too. It will make it even more special for us.

JANUS: Thank you guys.

ROMAN: I’m happy for all of you. And look at this, I’m gaining two new family members. Logan becomes my father-in-law and Deceit… I mean, Janus, becomes my brother-in-law. How much happy can a prince get?

[they all start congratulating the couples, while Thomas looks at the camera]

THOMAS: Well, all’s well that ends well. Until next time, take it easy, guys, gals and non binary pals. Peace out!

[ending card]

[days have passed. Roman is in the royal castle of Sandersia, talking to his brother Roland]

ROMAN: …and this is all that happened.

ROLAND: Wow, Roman. You get adventures even without looking for them. I hope Logan is okay.

ROMAN: I would say that it’s the adventures who get us, but yes, you’re right, and Logan is much better now after these few days of rest… So, I was thinking if we could use the royal castle to perform the weddings.

ROLAND: [nervous] Oh, well… I don’t know if it’s a good idea. Of course, you’re the royal prince and your word would be my command but, still, I don’t think it’s a good idea.

ROMAN: Why? When I married we used the royal castle and, except for the Dark Master crashing the wedding, everything went just fine.

ROLAND: That’s different, you are the Royal Prince of Sandersia, therefore your wedding was a royal wedding. It was more than appropriate to perform it in the royal castle. But your friends are not royalty per se. It would be against protocol.

ROMAN: Well, Remus is my brother, and a duke, that’s nobility at least, and Patton is my husband’s father, he could be considered consort royalty too.

ROLAND: As I said, your word is my command and I’m just a regent prince… I’ll obey your instructions now and always.

ROMAN: Something makes you uncomfortable and I think it’s not protocol related. What’s wrong? Forget that I’m the Royal Prince of Sandersia and all that pompous stuff and speak to me, from brother to brother. Give me your real opinion and what you really want.

ROLAND: Well…

ROMAN: Come on, I’m your brother. You can trust me anything that bothers you and your honest opinion is important to me.

ROLAND: Okay… I’ll be honest with you, and I’m sorry. I have no problem to perform Patton and Logan’s wedding here… but I despise the idea of performing Remus’ wedding in this castle. I don’t wanna do that if I have a choice.

ROMAN: Oh… I should have known it was related to that.

ROLAND: I still don’t understand how you could have let him get so integrated in your group. Have you all forgotten that he tried to kill me? Does nobody care about my safety or about how I feel now?

ROMAN: I really understand your concern, and of course we care about you. You’re my brother, for Ethel Merman’s sake, how could I not care about you? But Remus is not the same as he used to be back when he did that. I’m sure he regrets having done all of that, and he doesn’t have any ill will against you anymore. I really wish you would give him a chance.

ROLAND: I don’t trust him. And being so unpredictable, Janus – was that Deceit’s name, you said? - shouldn’t trust him either. Who can tell that he won’t have another face-heel turn at any moment? He could turn against you at the slightest chance. He’s just like that, and I fear about your safety, just as much as I scared to death about mine. He scares me and I can’t help feeling that way, and if you had gone through what I went through, you would be too.

ROMAN: You’re saying this because you haven’t witnessed everything we’ve gone through with him. I’m telling you he’s really changed. If only you would give him a chance to prove it to you. Please, he’s my brother, Roland, just as much as you are. Couldn’t you do this… for me?

ROLAND: Wait, no, don’t look at me with the puppy face…

[Roman starts whining like a puppy with an over the top pouty face. Roland can’t help chuckling a bit]

ROLAND: That was a cheap shot.

ROMAN: [smiling like a kid] But did it work?

ROLAND: You already know it worked, it always did when you wanted to play with my toys when we were kids… [sighs] Okay… If he really means so much to you… I’m going to give him a chance to prove himself. But let it be known, I do this for you and not for him.

ROMAN: I love you, brother. What do you have in mind?

ROLAND: He will come over to this castle for a week. He can bring Janus if he wants. In fact I wouldn’t mind if all of you came here for the week, for a little vacation, if you’re not busy, of course. I will then have the chance to get to know him, and if I’m pleased with what I see, I’ll accept that he marries Janus here with Logan and Patton. Will that make you happy?

ROMAN: You have no idea, Roland. Thank you so much. You won’t regret this, you’ll see.

ROLAND: I’m regretting it already… I hope for your own happiness that he doesn’t mess everything up during that week.

ROLAND: He won’t. You’ll get to like him too, you’ll see.

ROLAND: I hope so, Roman. I hope so…

[fanpom-imagines]

Imagine Daenerys trying to cool the tension between her, Sansa, and the reader. (Part 2)

Masterlist [Part 1] (Part 2) [Part 3] [Part 4]

Fandom: Game of Thrones

Words: 1966

Warnings: SPOILERS FOR SEASON 8!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Gifs aren’t mine.

If you want to be tagged send me a message and I’ll add you

(Female Reader)

I walked down the hallway with Ser Robert Vadin by my side, on of my trusted knights, and came to a stop at the door that led to the library, I knocked on the door and heard a man’s voice yell, “Coming.” Right before it opened to reveal a plump man with dark hair and eyes as well as a beard covered his face, though he did not seem intimidating. He seemed more gentle of heart and not like a fighter at all.

“Oh hello, how can I help you two?” He asked curiously.

“May we come in?” I asked him giving him a gentle smile as I motioned with my head to the inside of the room.

“Oh, yes of course,” he replied opening the door wider and letting us in.

“Now what is it you have come here for?” He asked us once more.

“I was wondering if you could send a raven to my people back home,” I started off, “King Jon informed me that you were the man to ask.”

“Oh of course, Lady….” the man trailed off as he did not know my name, but I did not know his either.

“Excuse me, where are my manners. I am Queen (Y/N) Daraith of Ossēnagon, and this is one of my knights, Ser Robert Vadin,” I introduced us as Ser Robert bowed when I spoke his name.

The man’s eyes widened, “I did not mean any disrespect Your Grace I did not know.” He rushed out, but I just smiled at him fondly.

“No need for apologize. You’ve done nothing wrong,” I reassured the brunette which seemed to put his mind at ease as he let out a breath of relief.

“Thank you, Your Grace. I am Samwell Tarly.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you Samwell. Are you able to send a raven to Ossēnagon for me?” I asked him politely as I took out the rolled up letter with my houses sigil keeping it sealed.

“Yes of course,” he said taking the letter and bowing to me which I did to him in return.

“Thank you Samwell Tarly, we shall take our leave now.”

“You are welcome, Your Grace,” Samwell replied giving me a kind smile before returning to his work.

As Ser Robert and I made it down the hallway we saw the Queen heading our way with one of her knights, Ser Jorah Mormont, beside her.

Ser Robert and I bowed to her in greeting as did they, but neither one of us exchanged a word and kept our eye contact to a bare minimum before going our separate ways.

After a few hours of exploring Winterfell. Ser Vadin and I found ourselves in the courtyard of the castle. As the two of us made it out into the clearing of the courtyard I saw home much everyone seemed to put in effort. Men wore metal armor which covered them from head to toe, yet I felt pity for those who were old and seemed to care long and solemn faces that had years of history, stories and experience hidden behind them and for those who had not yet reached the age of a man and whose faces were young and fresh and had not one scar or wrinkle to show that they’ve fought or experienced the hardships or gifts of life.

“Queen (Y/N), may I have a word with you?” I heard a voice come from my right as we were making our way through the courtyard back to my chambers.

I looked over to the voice that had cut through my thoughts only to see that it was none other than Lady Sansa herself.

“Yes, of course you may, Lady Sansa.”

She lead us into a different part of the large castle that seemed to be vast and never ending with history laced between every crack on a wall. The castle seemed to have been rebuilt many times as I had noticed how some stones were more worn and seemed different from others, yet it makes sense since Winterfell has lived through many battles throughout the centuries since it was first built by Bran the Builder.

We made our way in front of two large doors. I had commanded Ser Vadin to stay by the door with one of Sansa’s men as the Lady of Winterfell and I made our way into the room.

She offered me to sit at one of the tables which I gladly accepted, and I waited for her to sit down before starting to speak.

“What is it that you need from me, Lady Sansa?” I ask her with a bit of curiosity lacing my voice.

“I just wanted to get to know you better and to speak with you in private,” she paused as she seemed to contemplate her next words. “You seem interesting to me, and just like you I have a sort of rivalry with the Queen. I was hoping to gain another friend during these dark times.”

“Seems fair enough to me,” I said not really knowing what else to add to the conversation till I remembered that there had been a meeting during the morning while I had still been cooped up in my chambers.

“What was the meeting about this morning, if I may ask that is?”

“You may ask, and to answer your question it had been about Jamie Lannister, the Kingslayer, and what we should do with him.”

“You mean the man who had killed King Aerys II?” I asked her curiously.

“Yes, that Kingslayer.” Sansa said nodding in conformation.

“I would love to meet the man who ended the Targaryen’s reign,” I huffed out a small laugh in amusement.

“You seem to harbor a lot of hatred for the Queen,” She said as she studied me as if trying to deduce the reason.

“You do to,” I told her as my mouth spread into a slight smirk which she also mirrored.

“It seems so, yet how come you do? Is it true that your people are dragon slayers?” The redhead's eyes grew in curiosity but I couldn’t blame her. I would’ve been curious about dragon slayers too if I had had one sitting right in front of me with thousands of questions storming around in my mind.

“My people were known for slaying and then taming ice dragons. Ice dragons are a close relative of the dragons that come from Old Valyria, but rather than breathing fire or having a variation of colors they breath hair that is so cold it is said it could freeze a man in half a heart beat; each and every dragon is also white scaled with blue eyes, but I have not seen any in my life time since the Targaryen’s had killed the last of them in The Dance of Dragons. Now the only things we have to remember them are songs, stories, paintings, and written documents. As a child my father would often read to me about these beautiful yet terrifying beasts and I would always day dream about riding one like my ancestors had. Though reality is often disappointing isn’t it?” I asked her with a slight sad smile.

“It sadly is, and I understand what you mean all too well, Your Grace.” She said as she laid her hand upon mine in comfort I was about to reply, but I was interrupted by the door opening with Queen Daenerys walking through.

“Hello, Lady Sansa,” She greeted Sansa then turned to me, “and hello to you too Queen (Y/N), I had not realized you were in here as well.”

“If you came here to talk with Lady Sansa I will leave if you wish,” I told her bowing to her in greeting as she did the same to me in response.

“I would be, ever so thankful,” Daenerys said thanking me though her smile was still tightly strained on her face. As if the mask of a smile started to become to hard to burden.

I bid farewell to Lady Sansa, by giving her a curt bow and walked past the Queen, but when our eyes met when I passed her they grew darker and gave off a cold gaze. I held back the urge to scoff at her and kept on walking forward without showing a sign of acknowledgment towards her presence. Before I left through the door though I heard her say: “I will be wanting to have a private discussion with you as well, Queen (Y/N).”

It wasn’t a question or a request, it was more of a warning as if I was some child that had gotten in trouble with their mother.

“Of course, Queen Daenerys,” I said not even looking back to her before walking out into the hallway and out to the courtyard with Ser Vadin alongside me. Him and I finally made it back to my chambers and I bid him farewell as he set to get ready for the battle that seemed to be coming nearer and nearer as the hours passed.

That self proclaimed “Queen”, knew exactly how to push my buttons. All my life I have been looked down upon people who thought they owned the world. Credit is never given to the ones due. Instead it is given to the richest and fairest. That is why I could not seem to like her. She thought that just by having the blood of a Targaryen that the Iron Throne was her right, yet the Targaryen’s had taken the lands she stands upon now by the First Men, who had taken it from the Children of the Forest. By Daenerys’ definition of right it should be Cersei’s. She was the King Robert Baratheon’s wife who had taken the throne from the Targaryen’s, and she was the mother of the two kings after King Robert. Yet none of these people seem to understand that the Iron Throne is just a one way ticket to death and grees. No one who has sat in that throne has died of old age. Though I respect Queen Daenerys to a fault, her greed for the Iron Throne seems to shadow over everything else.

A name or the blood that flows within our veins doesn’t make us good rulers. It is our choices and actions. If she doesn’t start to realize that she may be the end of us all.

I thought back to what Jon had said once about how it didn’t matter who holds what title when the White Walkers come it will all be for nothing, and now I understood what he had meant way more than in the moment he had spoken those words. I giggled at the memory of his dark brooding face and his low voice. I imagined myself imitating it which set me into another fit of giggles.

I thought for a moment on what I should do to pass the time as there have been no reasons to do much of anything. All I had was time, before the White Walkers came of course. I looked around the room and saw a bookshelf with seemingly interesting books. I curiously made my way to them and went through each one till I found one interesting enough to pass the time and sat down on the cushioned seat near the window in my room which sat in front of another armchair with a table off to the side of the both of them.

Within moments of sitting down and opening the book I had submerged myself within the plot line and it seemed as though the world went on without me for a time being as I just read on and on going from one page to the next.

Talglist:

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