#Its not Kingdom hearts but eh! its my speciality

[aquathewriter]

Fratres Usque Ad Finem (FFXV AU)

Summary: After Prompto is confronted with the truth of his origins, he looks around a bit more until he finds a young clone floating in an unknown solution. Without thinking, he frees the boy and now has to take care of a kid that is new to the world around him. (Follows mid-end Episode Prompto, end of the base game, and then beyond.)

Chapter One

"Who...what am I?" Prompto whispered as he looked up at near-mirror images of himself. They all seemed to be sleeping peacefully with their arms crossed over their chest in their tubes. They were so still that he thought they could be dead. He didn't know what compelled him to look around more, but he soon found himself walking deeper into the room until he found himself in an area where the clones were starting to get younger and younger. "They're just...kids..." he said quietly as he stopped in front of one of the chambers. This kid inside was probably no older than ten years old. Thinking back to photos he had seen from when he was that young, he saw the resemblance, but they weren’t as identical as he thought. The boy’s hair was a darker blond than his, and his skin was paler, though that could be from him having lived in the tube his whole life. Like the older clones, he looked to be sleeping peacefully, suspended in the fluid-filled tube. Looking to the right, he saw a digital interface. There was a string of numbers, but underneath that, it read 'incubation time: seven years.' He was right about one thing; the kid was no older than ten.

Gritting his teeth, he pulled out his pistol and pointed it at the glass. His hands shook as he adjusted his aim and pointed it off to the side, intentionally missing the boy. He pulled the trigger, and the familiar sound of gunfire echoed throughout the room. The bullet shot through and lodged into the machinery behind the kid. The fluid that suspended him started to leak out, but it wasn't fast enough. Pulling out his rifle, he held it by the barrel and hit the breaking glass a few times. He didn't care if he broke the gun, he could find another, and his want to free this boy was greater.

With one last hard whack, the glass shattered, and the greenish fluid came rushing out. Prompto then dropped the damaged weapon and pushed his arms into the rush of liquid to catch the boy before he fell into the broken shards of glass. Prompto then carried him bridal style away from the mess he created, allowing for any cords or whatnot that were connected to the boy to snap off as he hurried off. As he reached a corner away from the chaos, the boy started to cough, and it finally hit Prompto what he did. “Shit…” he breathed.

He just broke one of the clones out of their tubes, not knowing if he could talk or walk or do anything! Not only that, the kid was now his responsibility, and with what was going on right now added a whole new level of challenges for him. 

Shaking his head, he knelt and set the boy on the ground. He had him sit up and patted his back as the boy continued to cough up the mystery fluid he was once floating in. Eventually, the boy calmed down and slowly opened his eyes. Prompto watched as the boy looked up and around at his surroundings. Soon, his eyes landed on Prompto, and the older blond gasped quietly when he noticed that they weren’t blue like his but a pale green. The boy’s eyes scanned Prompto’s face before he opened his mouth.

“Who…who are…you?” The boy’s voice was raspy and weak. Prompto didn’t know how he should’ve felt about learning that this boy could speak, a boy who spent his whole short life in a tube. He really just felt relieved to know that the boy was aware and could function.

“My name is Prompto,” he said softly, hoping not to scare the child.

“Where…Where are…we?” the boy asked as he looked around again. Prompto bit his bottom lip as he tried to think of a way to explain it to him.

“It…it doesn’t matter right now. What matters is that you're free and safe.”

“Free?” the boy questioned as he looked back up at the young man in confusion. Before Prompto could answer, the boy started to suddenly shiver almost violently. Startled, Prompto looked around to see if he could find anything to cover him but just ended up taking his coat off and wrapping it around the kid’s body. He helped guide the boy’s arms into the sleeves, and they covered his hands completely. He still shivered but was nowhere near as violent as before.

“Do you think you can stand?” Prompto asked. The boy shrugged, and the older blond nodded. “I think you can do it.” He then held out his hands toward the boy. If he knew how to talk despite living in a tube his entire life, he must have some control over his motor functions. He seemed hesitant at first but took Prompto’s hands. Prompto slowly stood up and helped the boy stand. The boy wobbled for a bit until he finally found his balance. Still holding his hands, helped the boy take a few steps before letting and showing him he could do it. The boy turned around and gave Prompto a small smile.

“And there he is now! Oh, and with another one of the clones.” Prompto spun around and pushed the boy behind him. Looking up, he saw Ardyn with another, much older, man behind him. Prompto noted that the older man looked ill and faced away from them. They both stood on a staircase that led up to possibly more of the lab. “I told you he became a fine young man. Are you ready to meet your maker, Prompto?” the older blond bared his teeth at the horrid man while the boy gripped his sweater in fear. “Any questions for daddy dearest?” Ardyn laughed. “Father and son! Or, well, sons now. Oh, how I love bringing families together.”

“No…it’s not true…” Despite his anger, his voice barely made a sound.

“My my, you still don’t believe it? Even after seeing all of them down there and then the boy you freed?” a wicked grin appeared on Ardyn’s face. The older man…Prompto soon figured out that it was Verstael Besithia, Niflheim’s resident mad scientist. The older blond let out a shaky breath. Ardyn laughed at this as he climbed up the stairs and disappeared behind some machinery.

“What’s the matter?” Verstael’s voice pulled Prompto's attention back to him. He watched as the man climbed down the rest of the stairs and slowly made his way closer to the boys. “Have you never seen a man turn before?” Prompto’s blood ran cold when he saw that half of the man’s face was blackened like he was bruised. Or dead.

The Starscourge!

He quickly pulled out his handgun and pointed at the older man. Verstael laughed. “If those Lucians hadn’t intervened, you could have turned too.” The calm tone in his voice made Prompto’s skin crawl. He lowered his gun somewhat but kept his finger on the trigger. “The boy too. He could have turned too once he was old enough.” Prompto felt the boy’s grip tighten.

“Why me? Why us?” Prompto demanded though his voice was weak.

“Because you two were cloned from this genius’s genes, born of my own flesh and blood.” he then gestured to the other tubes that held the younger clones. “You are, but one of millions created to serve our great empire in the magitek infantry.” memories of his past then flashed through his head.

“Created…to serve you?” Prompto felt faint. His breathing was quickening. Part of him wanted to turn tail and run away and forget any of this had happened.

“Prompto?” the older blond gasped and looked down. The boy was looking at him with a mixture of worry and fear.

Stay…for the kid…

“Yes. And now you’ve finally come home to Niflheim, my son.” the man then laughed wickedly. Now fed up with what this man was spouting, Prompto held his gun straight up into the air.

“Cover your ears,” he said loud enough for only the boy to hear. Once he felt the boy let go of his sweater, he pulled the trigger. The gunshot caused the boy to yelp, and the sound echoed off of the walls and machinery. Verstael’s laughter faded as he sneered at Prompto.

“Shut up!” he shouted. He looked down at the ground as his breathing became heavy. He slowly lowered his gun to his side. “You’re wrong…I’m a Lucian!” he saw the boy from the corner of his eyes. Tears then started to sting his eyes. “And he’s going to be someone! Anyone he wants to be! We are not one of your experiments!” Prompto’s body felt heavy as he leaned forward, taking his eyes fully off Verstael, and tried to compose himself.

“Not anymore. Now you two are nothing but failures.” the man growled. “I ought to return you both whence you came. Perhaps then you might serve some useful purpose.”

“Prompto!” the boy screamed. The older blond looked up and saw that Verstael was just inches from him, and it looked like black ink was dripping down the dead side of his face.

“Never!” Prompto shouted as he made him and the boy take a few steps back before pointing his gun at the man again. Verstael just laughed at the two.

“With your help, my ascension to divinity is now all but complete.” Prompto felt his body shake with fear as he watched the infected side of his face seem to morph and contort. This fear spiked as Verstael started to close in on them again. They were already pressed against a wall behind them, so they couldn’t back up anymore. “Soon, neither the kings of Lucis nor the gods themselves,” the scourge was smoking off his right arm as he placed that hand on Prompto’s shoulder, “will be able to challenge my reign!” Prompto then saw that his other hand was reaching for the boy. Prompto let out a scream and pulled the trigger.

It was normal for his ears to ring after shooting, it was much more common when he first started. But now, the ringing drowned out anything and everything. He watched with wide eyes as Verstael struggled to breathe as he stumbled back a few steps before falling to the ground in a motionless heap.

Prompto took half a step forward before his gun slipped from his hands, and he fell to his knees. It then came crashing down at what just happened. He killed someone. It didn’t matter if he was a madman or succumbing to the scourge; he pulled the trigger and ended a life.

Though he didn’t look at him, he knew he and the boy both wore the same shocked looks on their faces. He didn't know if the boy even understood what happened. The ringing had faded, but the silence was deafening as they watched the scourge drift off the dead body.

“Look what you’ve done.” Prompto jumped slightly at the sudden voice but didn’t take his eyes off Verstael’s body. “You’ve gone homicidal-no, patricidal!” Ardyn said in mock shock. Tearing his eyes away from the body, he looked around and couldn't see the man anywhere. 

“No…” he whispered before looking at the body again.

“You lose your friends and murder your family. Now you’ve no one left! Well, there's that boy, but what use is he to you?”

“Shut up!” Prompto screamed while Ardyn laughed from wherever he was hiding. “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” He then leaned forward and pounded the ground a few times. Ardyn’s laughter faded as tears rolled off the tip of his nose.

“Prompto?” the boy whispered as he tugged on the older blond’s sweater. 

“Vital functions decreasing. Plasmodium activity index increasing.” a feminine robotic voice spoke over a speaker system. Prompto let out a breath before looking up. “Daemonification complete.” he watched as Verstael faded, only leaving his clothing. “Initiating transfer to Unit XDA-1002: Immortalis.” the lights then went out, save for a red glow that came from beyond the stair, and then the ground started to shake. Forgetting about the boy, Prompto grabbed his gun before he rushed forward, up the stairs, and almost crashed into a long console that sat in front of a series of windows. There was a machine in the room beyond the window with six or more of the holding tubes. Prompto could only guess that they once held more of the clones. He then felt small hands grab his sweater. He gasped in fear before looking down at the boy holding on to him. It looked like he had stumbled from the shaking of the floor and caught himself on Prompto.

Just then, there was a crash from the other room. The shaking ceased soon after. Looking back, he was surprised to see a familiar face standing on top of a dead daemon.

“Aranea?” he called out. She looked up at him. Surprised crossed her face before she quickly hid it with slight annoyance.

“You always play hard to get like this?” her voice came through a speaker somewhere. He started to say her name, but she quickly held up a hand, cutting him off.

“Save it, Blondie. Get your ass in here.” when he didn’t move, she shook her head slightly and looked back to a nearby table. He soon regained control of his legs, helped the boy properly stand again, and led him into the room while resting a hand on his back. “So this is that new model they’re working on.” she then looked up when they stepped into the room. “I dunno what’s got you so shook,” she started to walk closer to them, “but you can deal with it later. Let’s move.” when the blond didn’t move, she rolled her eyes, marched forward, and grabbed him by his collar. He gasped in surprise. “I’m only gonna say this once,” she then let go with a slight push, “lost your will to live, and you lose all hope of me helping your sorry ass. Got it?” he swallowed the lump forming in his throat before giving her a little nod. Prompto then watched as her green eyes flicked down to the boy. She stepped back with a surprised gasp. “What’s a kid doing here?” the way she spoke just before told Prompto that she didn’t know about the clones. He gripped the hand that rested on the boy’s back tightly before trying to refind his voice.

“He…He’s a long story.” she looked the boy over.

“Is that your coat?” Prompto nodded. “Does he have any other clothes?” he shook his head. She then sighed and undid her coat. As it slid down her arms, revealing a dark blue sweater underneath, she noticed the confused look on Prompto’s face. She groaned in annoyance before ripping her red scarf off. “There’s more than a foot of snow outside, colder than any winter you’ve probably experienced in Lucis, and I don’t think you want him losing any toes. My coat is longer and can cover more of him.” she then threw both garments at Prompto.

“But…but what about you?” he asked as he pulled the coat off of his face. She just waved him off as she made her way to another exit on the other side of the room. He watched as she stood on the threshold with her arms crossed and stared out into whatever lay in the next room.

She’s keeping watch…

With a sigh, he got down on one knee and helped the boy change coats. While his coat reached the boy’s knees, Aranea’s dragged on the floor, but it was probably warmer than his with the fur lining, and they could tuck his feet in when they went outside and wrap the extra length around his bottom half. After he wrapped the scarf around the boy’s neck and some of his head, Prompto placed a hand on his head. His hair had mostly dried but was still a little damp. “You feeling good?” he asked while forcing a small smile for the boy. The kid nodded as Prompto pulled the hood up and over his head and then put his own coat back on. “Good. Now, let’s-”

“Target detected.” the feminine robot voice suddenly announced over a speaker. Prompto jumped to his feet before gripping his gun tightly. From the gaping hole in the wall, Prompto felt his blood run cold as he watched three MTs clamber over the debris. “Capture and retrieve immediately.”

“Shit!” he heard Aranea hiss as the MTs started to make their way toward the blonds. She then raced forward with her lance out and easily one down.

“Commence capture and retrieval of compromised units.”

“Get your ass in gear and move it!” she shouted before charging back for the exit. Prompto then scooped the boy up, carrying him half-bridal style while the kid wrapped his arms around his neck and raced after Aranea.

Once he ran out the door and reached the other side, he saw a large warehouse-type area. “There,” the Commodore said as she pointed down below, “that’s our ride out of here.” He looked to where she was pointing and saw a snowmobile. He nodded as a bullet flew over their heads and lodged into the window in front of them. The boy whimpered as they whipped around to see the two other MTs, and then several more coming up the nearby staircase closing in on them. “Dammit!” she shook her head before pulling a folded map and shoving it into Prompto’s chest. It started to fall, but the boy caught it and looked from it to Prompto in confusion. “Head there. I’ll buy you two time and catch up later." She then summoned her lance and calmly walked toward the battle. Prompto quickly processed what she had just said.

“But what about you?”

“I said I’ll catch up.” She then fell into her battle stance.

“But what if y-”

“Just go! You have a kid!” she almost screamed. Promtpo pressed his lips together in a thin line as he danced on his toes. He wanted to stay and help her fight, but…he looked down at the boy in his arms and saw the fear and confusion in his pale green eyes.

It took another bullet to whiz by his head and shatter the glass behind them to make him start running. Aranea had cleared enough of the stairs so he could run down most of them. He had to shoot at a few MTs when they reached the bottom but quickly gave up on that. He dismissed his pistol and raced for the gates that housed the snowmobile.

Once they reached the gates, he heard the boy gasp.

“What are those?” Prompto looked back to see a few daemons making their way toward them.

“Daemons!” Prompto said before turning back and sprinting for the vehicle. The blond threw his leg over one side and sat down with the kid in front of him. “Put your arms around my chest!” the boy let go of his neck and did just so while burying his face into his chest. Prompto then wrapped the kid’s feet and legs as best as he could with the extra length of the coat. He pulled out the map from in between them, looked at the location Aranea marked, and tucked it into his coat. He revved the engine before punching it. The snowmobile shot forward, and Prompto was quickly greeted with the harsh bite of the cold. He felt the boy stiffen and tighten his hold around his chest. “Just stay like that until I say so!” he shouted over the engine. He felt the boy nod and returned his focus to driving.

It was easy going for the first few miles…then they were nearly blown off their ride by a missile. Looking back, he saw a war airship with missiles lining the underside, quickly gaining on them. Adrenaline coursed through him as he pushed the snowmobile to go faster. 

He narrowly avoided missile after missile, but his luck only lasted for so long. He didn’t realize he was running out of road until the snowmobile had launched off the rock. Everything then moved in slow motion. The vehicle went straight down while throwing them off. He watched as he flew out of the boy’s arms and the fear in his eyes as Prompto flew farther away from him.

Time resumed its normal speed when he hit the ground on his back and ended up rolling a few more feet before stopping on his side. He briefly lost consciousness before slowly opening his eyes. He then heard the airship come closer to them. He closed his eyes and slowed his breathing in hopes of playing dead. The snow soaked into his coat and pants, but he needed this to work. He heard the engines hum for a few moments before taking off. He waited until the engines with a whisper before groaning and pushing himself onto his back. He felt the adrenaline crash getting to him as he looked up at the cloud-covered sky. His lung wheezed as he breathed heavily. With a sigh, he rested the back of his left hand on his forehead and closed his eyes.

“Catch ya later, Aranea…” he stayed like that for a few moments until he remembered the boy. Ignoring the pain in his body, he quickly pushed himself and looked for his companion. He then found him lying next to the overturned snowmobile. He scrambled to his feet and raced toward him. As he reached him, the boy started to regain consciousness as well.

“Prompto?” the boy called out before the older blond knelt down behind him.

“I’m here; it’s okay.” he panted slightly. The boy looked back, and he saw that the scarf had slipped down his face while the hood fell off his head and revealed the pink that stretched across his cheeks and nose. Prompto started to help the boy up, but as soon as he started to move him, the boy let out a cry. “What’s wrong?” Prompto asked quickly as he stopped moving the boy and put him back on the ground.

“M-My leg,” he said with a pained expression on his face with tears rolling down his cheeks. Prompto looked at the boy’s leg and saw that it was unwrapped and trapped under the snowmobile. Standing up, Prompto pushed the vehicle so it was back on its treads and off the boy’s leg.

“How is it?” Prompto asked as he looked back at him.

“It doesn’t feel good,” he said as he sniffled and looked at the blond.

“Does it hurt?”

“H…hurt?” the boy looked like he didn’t understand the word.

And he wouldn’t…he’s never felt it before…

“Hurt…um…when something happens to you, you can feel hurt, feel pain.” he never had to explain what hurt meant to anyone. “It’s pretty much what you said. It doesn’t feel good.” The boy nodded slowly and looked down at his leg.

“Yes, my leg…hurts.” Prompto nodded and dug his legs out of the snow. His bare legs were pink from the cold, but his left leg had a large and nasty-looking bruise forming on his shin and on some of his foot. 

“I have to carry you anyway, but we’ll take a better look at it when we get to where Aranea wants us to go,” he said as he wrapped his legs again. The boy nodded before the older blond picked him up. With a sigh, he sat on the snowmobile. He had the boy hold on again before he turned the engine on. 

“It makes a lot of noise.” he heard the boy say just before Prompto took off.

“Engines are loud most of the time.” he then smiled when he thought about the regalia. “My friend has this car, the regalia, and it’s a beautiful car. The engine is really quiet, but there’s still going to be noise from it. It’s just much quieter than this one.” he then remembered the events on the train. He didn’t know now if he could go back to them or if they would still call him their friend if he told them the truth about where he was from and how he was made and not born.

“Friend?” This snapped Prompto from his thoughts, and he sighed internally. He wasn’t mad at the kid for questioning, but he just didn’t have the energy to both drive and explain what some words were.

“I promise I’ll tell you what it means when we get to the spot.” the boy nodded, and they remained quiet for the rest of the ride.

[gamequoteshowdown]

Thank you everyone for making this happen! Now, without further ado, the match-ups for Round 1!!!

Round 1

"I've been waiting for this!" - Akihiko Sanada, Persona 3 / "You're just a corpse who doesn't know he's dead" - Valter, Fire Emblem: Sacred Stones

"Are you going to be our goddess of victory… or our angel of death? Doesn't sound too bad to bet my life on that." - Keiji Shinogi, Your Turn To Die: Death Game by Majority / "Don't fuck with a witch!" - Bayonetta, Bayonetta

"Teammates!? Friends!? To hell with that! Why am I inferior to you!? I was extremely particular about my life, my grades, my public image! So someone would want me around! I am an ace detective! A celebrity! But you… You're just some criminal trash living in an attic!? So how!? How does someone like you have things I don't!? How can such a worthless piece of trash be more special than me!?" - Goro Akechi, Persona 5 / "I was just gunna ask you to sell a gun to this child." - Starlo, Undertale Yellow

"I want you to live." - Charlotte Wiltshire, Hello Charlotte Series / "Your hair… sunset colored. I like it." - Queequeg, Limbus Company

"The hope to end pointless conflict… The hope to tell your daughter how much you care… It is our mission as apothecaries to ensure that everyone lives long enough for their hopes to become reality. Even if it costs us our own lives." - Castti Florenz, Octopath Traveler II / "Game is clear when 2 zombies hold hands!!" - "How to Play" Narrator, Loving Deads: The House of the Dead EX

"Thanks to you, I am saddled with unnecessary… feelings" - Miles Edgeworth, Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney / "I am so fucking normal right now" - Harry du Bois, Disco Elysium

“SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL IS GOING TO HAPPEN” - Harry du Bois (in the form as a potential mural painting), Disco Elysium / "You pull out your cellphone and access your old Tumblr. You have ten, but you specifically access the Garfield one." - Narrator, Monster Prom

"… Nice meeting you again, you FUCKING WHALE!" - Ishmael, Limbus Company / "My guess is no one's ever loved you before" - Woody, Kingdom Hearts 3

"Take care, [player]. I was lucky to have known you. Though the parting hurts... the rest is in your hands!" - Grovyle, Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Explorers of Sky / "Far out, man." - Netzach, Limbus Company

"I'll be back once I eliminate that devil called poverty from the world!" - Partitio Yellowil, Octopath Traveler II / "Elder gods from the whole cosmos have awoken to taste your cookies." - Narrator, Cookie Clicker

"Hello! This is the part where I kill you!" - Wheatley, Portal 2 / "Now we come to the question : Do I kill you? Do I tear you apart to my heart's delight? The choices of the beautiful are unbearable. How's a girl to choose?" - Alice Angel, Bendy and the Ink Machine

"I am Ferdinand von Aegir" - Ferdinand von Aegir, Fire Emblem: Three Houses / "Her metabolic processes are of interest only to historians." - Miles Edgeworth, Ace Attorney: Trials and Tribulations

"It ain't a matter of guys or chicks... I'm just scared shitless of being rejected" - Kanji Tatsumi, Persona 4 / "...also Stanley is addicted to drugs and hookers" - Narrator, The Stanley Parable

“You’ve met with a terrible fate, haven’t you?” - Happy Mask Salesman, Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask / "I have no idea what to do with my life, but that's okay! Because I'm still working hard! Even if it's on nothing at all!" - Papyrus, Undertale

"Despite everything, its still you." - Narrator/Chara/Frisk???, Undertale / "In this world, it's kill or be killed." - Flowey, Undertale

“Heart. Lungs. Liver. Nerves. Heart. Lungs. Liver. Nerves…” - Voices of the Paranoid, Slay the Princess / "In the quiet glade, across old bark. In the ancient glade, it's always dark." - Gabbro, Outer Wilds

"You take away all their sins, and people aren't people anymore!" - Rokurou Rangetsu, Tales of Berseria / "Do you even get how it feels to have nightmares about doing tango with raw chickens? Eh?" - Heathcliff, Limbus Company

"Life is worth living, even if it hurts you, even if you hurt in it." - Solid Snake, Metal Gear Solid / "I often think about the god who blessed us with this cryptic puzzle... and wonder if we'll ever get the chance to kill him." - 2B, Nier: Automata

“Oh? Is that how it is? Yeah, okay, I like you too. Neat! Still going to kill you, but now we can both enjoy a mutual romantic subtext to the murder.” - The Razor, Slay the Princess / "Now it’s Reyn Time!" - Reyn, Xenoblade Chronicles

"You lost the coin toss. We both did." - Catherine Chun, SOMA / "I like to drink blood. . . and smoke the weed!" - Dracula, Space Funeral

"Pick a god and pray!" - Frederick, Fire Emblem: Awakening / "Can you believe it? Dragons! In your own homeland! What are you going to do?" - Florentia Candidius, Elder Scrolls Online

""Did you get the Broom Closet Ending?! The Broom Closet Ending was my favourite!" ...I hope your friends find this concerning." - Narrator, The Stanley Parable / "It’s dangerous to go alone, take this!" - Old Man, Legend of Zelda

“Close your eyes for a sec, will you Chigasaki?” “You mean physically? Or to the criminal acts I’m pretty sure you’re about to commit?” “Both.” - Chikage Utsuki & Itaru Chigasaki, A3! Act! Addict! Actors! / "You are all about to perish, do as you please. I'm sorry." - Meta Knight, Kirby Super Star

"Boy" - Kratos, God of War / "Take care of yourself, kid, cause someone really cares about you." - Sans, Undertale

"Almost Christmas means it wasn't Christmas!" - Phoenix Wright, Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney / "Dios mío!” (Draw a cross.) “A LIBERAL!" - Harry du Bois, Disco Elysium

"That's it. I'm not paying one cent of my taxes!" - Ema Skye, Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney / ""Trust your partner"... And I do. I can't forgive you, but I trust you." - Neku Sakuraba, The World Ends With You/Subarashiki Kono Sekai

"Hey, you. You’re finally awake. You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there." - Ralof, Skyrim / *clap ... clap ... clap ... * "Oh good, my slow clap processor made it into this thing, so at least we have that" - GLaDOS, Portal 2

"hallOO. chikkEN. OKs?" - BOb, Slime Rancher / "Pretty good plan. You could say it was the greatest—" - Charles Calvin, The Henry Stickmin Collection

"Blood comes in four types: A, B, O, and AB. However! No blood test can determine whether a murder was committed… in cold blood!" - Phoenix Wright, Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney / "You ain't my partner anymore, man. You're my friend! So trus' that, yo!" - Beat (Daisukenojo "Beat" Bito), The World Ends With You/Subarashiki Kono Sekai

"I always come back." - William Afton, FNaF Pizzeria Simulator / "So -- as you can see, I'm a *pretty okay* detective -- and an absolutely GIANT COMMUNIST." - Harry du Bois, Disco Elysium

"Ears have a nice mouth feel, very chewy!" - Briar, League of Legends / "This is like taking candy from a baby, which is fine by me." - Shadow the Hedgehog, Shadow the Hedgehog (2005)

"It's a beautiful day outside. Birds are singing, flowers are blooming... On days like this, kids like you... Should be burning in hell." - Sans, Undertale / "In the dark times, should the stars also go out?" - Steban, the Student Communist, Disco Elysium

“We are a path in the woods. We have no beginning, and we have no end, but something cold and unnatural sits watching us from just beyond our edge.” - The Wild, Slay the Princess / "Strong Pokémon. Weak Pokémon. That is only the selfish perception of people. Truly skilled Trainers should try to win with the Pokémon they love best." - Karen (Elite Four), Pokemon HeartGold / SoulSilver

[yankaze]

KH OC week 2024 - Day 2: Past What was your character creation process like?

this one will be morally difficult for me 😭😭

I didn't find much old art to show, but I think these ones will say a lot.

Hajime as a character has existed since 2016. In March 2016 (I was 13 uuum 13 ehem) I learned about KH and somewhere around the same time I came up with this, at that time - eh, I don't know- at least unoriginal character who was literally a goth Roxas (I didn't knew about the existence of AUs idk, and Roxas is already ''emo boy'', but 2007 was almost here idkkk, we can joke about it for a very long time actually, but the fact remains a fact).

His name changed many times and there was no special meaning behind them (Sea, Syon), I just liked the way they sounded. I can answer the question why I named him ''Hajime'' right now. Internet says: ''Hajime (Japanese: はじめ) is a Japanese name meaning "beginning" (初め, 始め)''. I liked the way it sounded and its meaning and it gave me a hint where to move the character's story now.

+ in the Hajime's story he chooses this name for himself, because obviously no one gave name to him, but he needed a word to talk about himself and (i'm not sure about that) in the book he finds this name and I can say that it was chosen by him randomly.

He had a terrible written story on the basis of some other AU (???) and without сorvalol I can’t read it, even though it’s stored somewhere in my old dms from those years, I still don’t want to show it 😭

Around 2017 and up until 2019, I tried to make... something... out of him. It feels more like I just periodically returned to KH in a fit of baseless nostalgia and I really wanted to shove a “piece of myself” into this universe (which was already tired of me lmao).

2019 reminded me about KH in the form of KH III release and... this character again (+ my friend's kh oc- Jun).

I think that for a long time I didn't wanted to fundamentally change his concept (which was literally just that he exists and somehow travels around the worlds) because I was emotionally attached to this character. In essence, he was not just a character for me, but also memories that were triggered by each repeated hyperfixation on this universe.

It seems to me that the most obvious indicator of how I jumped back and forth into the KH universe is noticeable by the fact that it gave me the opportunity to look at one of my redraw series with this character through the years.

From 2020 to 2023 there was a long lull with this character.

2023 has been jUiCy in rethinking from the start because the long break gave me the opportunity to finally stop give in to nostalgia (or at least less) and loosen my emotional attachments to unworkable concepts. Therefore, this character now has the opportunity to finally become something better than a copy of another character.

However, this epic attempt was quickly abandoned as soon as the hyperfix ended.

We've reached the present time (mid-2024).

I slammed my fist on the table and decided to finally play through ALL the Kingdom Hearts games (that was therapy for my soul) and finally my understanding of KH universe became kinda complete (I still don't understand everything, the plot is very complex u'know). From what I began to understand, I decided to give this character another chance and close this damned gestalt.

This story is still ongoing, but I told in general details everything that happened to this character all these 8 years. This actually shows not only how the character changed, but also how I changed as an artist. Even my ''psychological problems'' can be seen through this story, and what amazes me the most is how over the years, using Hajime as an example, my drawing skills improved.

At such moments, you understand that you are not standing still and thoughts about "I have no progress in my art" no longer arise.

@khoc-week

[applesfallingfromblondehair]

i can't believe its over!! thank you so much for writing this phenomenal body of work, it has been such a joy to follow. your hard work and dedication is so so so appreciated, this story has felt so real and alive and tangible, there's very few fic writers ive encountered that just Get it the way you do. im just really grateful that you've shared this!

my soft spot has from the very beginning been matty and george and that hasn't changed - theres something so incredibly captivating and magnetic about two people who are so caught up in each other and just can't let go, no matter how bad things get. and god, GOD, this part?

"George’s thumb is on Matty’s chin, the rest of his hand closed against the side of Matty’s face, and Matty’s head is flooded with intrusive thoughts—the same thoughts he sees reflected in George’s eyes, glimmering back at him before he closes them. Matty holds his breath and Ross’s hand feels heavy on his thigh as George leans in and kisses his forehead, fleeting but still significant, before pushing him away and fully onto Ross, then rising from the couch to go sit in the big armchair opposite them."

in the words of jeff buckley, its never over!!!! my kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder.... they drive me crazy and my heart aches for them, i wish there was a way for them to have bi-yearly swan songs for the rest of their lives. just to get it out of their systems, you know? on that note - please please please do write that threesome, im sooo fascinated by the george/ross dynamic and they neeeed to fuck. please.

however, my aching team george heart aside, you left everyone in such a soft and good space, and i loved it<3 you wrapped it up so beautifully - there truly was no way to do it any better. i adore the way you make sense of the boys relationship, of course im particularly weak for the way you write matty and george. i would read everything and anything you write for them, seriously, this is my plea for more matty/george from you in any capacity!

Oh mate I can't believe it's over either. What a journey it's been eh?

It means the world that you've appreciated my work and that you think that I get it—because I feel that deeply too. There's something special that happens to me when I read something from someone who Gets It (@oh-bonerline is the only one currently in the spotlight for me and if you're into Matty/Ross you should definitely give her stuff a serious go), and knowing I'm someone like that for you fills me with joy ❤️

Yes to the threesome, hopefully I'll be inspired to actually write it after my hiatus and I can make some people happy with it 👀

Team George will get their share of content soon, I promise. I just need to decide what to tackle first and build a story around it. No big deal, eh? 🥲

Thank you so much for all the love and appreciation, it truly means the world ❤️❤️❤️

[shiningdesignersreflections]

Chapter 4: Oath of Roses

Narrated by Loen.

Narrator: That’s how the princes’ lives are saved.

Narrator: Seeing the traces of blood on his little brother’s hand, the older prince frowns and helps to dress the wound.

Narrator: And then the little prince cries out in excitement. The golden rose he so desperately sought is just within reach!

Narrator: The cluster of vines part to reveal a golden rose, casting a warm, soft glow with its petals outstretched.

Narrator: The blooming flower showers the area with a sweet-smelling fragrance.

Narrator: The little prince gently plucks the flower and places it in his brother’s hands, eyes full of pride.

Little Prince: The book said that the golden rose blooms forever. And our kingdom will bloom forever, too, under your rule, brother!

Narrator: The older prince smiles and pins the rose on his chest, then closes his eyes.

Older Prince: Protecting those who are important to me is just as important as protecting my kingdom.

Narrator: The prince’s promise is spoken solemnly and steadily. Something familiar stirs in my heart as I say my line.

Narrator: The few seconds of pause seem to last forever on the stage. Eyes closed, I felt as if I could smell gunfire once again...

Narrator: Turbulent emotions threaten to break free, but I force myself out of my memories and back to reality.

Narrator: Suddenly, I find myself missing the bitter taste of lemon gardenia fizz and the sweetness of wine.

Narrator: At least the play is almost over. I can go grab a drink after the performance is done.

Narrator: Our performance gets a standing ovation. I hear the audience discussing the play even as they leave.

Narrator: I head offstage and find Jaxon amidst the crowd.

Loen: So? How did you like my performance?

Jaxon: Eh, it wasn’t too bad. I’ll invite my brother over to watch you perform once he’s fully recovered.

Narrator: Jaxon nods appreciatively. Judging from the smile, he must have really enjoyed my acting.

Loen: You must have saved up your allowances for a long time to afford my commission fee, huh?

Jaxon: It’s fine, I can always save up more later. My brother’s dream of being an actor is more important than money!

Loen: By the way, there’s something I forgot to mention. This is my 100th commission of the year, so...

Narrator: Jaxon looks up, confused.

Loen: So I’m gonna offer you a special discount... a free discount! That’s right, completely free, on the house.

Loen: I sent your money and a ticket for tonight to the hospital. Remember? Your brother was discharged today.

Narrator: Jaxon stares at me, his eyes wide in disbelief.

Loen: Besides, I need to thank you for the advice you gave me on my costume design anyways. You’re quite the designer, you know.

Loen: The costume was well-received, and I couldn’t have done it without your creative ideas.

Loen: If my eyes don’t deceive me, I think there’s a young man backstage who looks a lot like you. You should go see him.

Narrator: Compared to dramatic happy endings, I prefer the warmth and comfort of reality even more.

Choose either “Is this really your 100th commission of the year?” or “So you found Jaxon’s brother.”

If “commission,” ...

You: Was this really your 100th commission of the year?

Narrator: Maybe. It’s been a lucrative year.

If “brother,” ...

You: So you secretly went and found out who Jaxon’s brother was.

Narrator: Just wanted to know what he was like, is all.

--

Choose “What about your interview?”

You: Wait, aren’t they interviewing the main actors over there?

Narrator: I’ll pass. Can’t let them know I’m a mercenary.

Narrator: And I’d much rather go home and read the play’s reviews on Moments with a glass of wine.

Narrator: I’m pretty confident in my own acting skills after all.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

[theshelbyclan]

Castle in the Sky

Summary: You’re the daydreaming sibling of the Shelby’s, but when the adventure spills over into real life, it’s not as great as you’d imagined

(Gif by @nofckingfighting​) A/N: A sweet anon requested: can I have request please Something like this Tommy was very protective over y/n and she gets hurt by one of the bad guys and sees blood on her face now all bruised but Tommy wants revenge Omg if you do so thank you so much for my request! ❤️ Huge fan of your works!This is set around season 1, back in the good old days when the only real enemy was Billy Kimber, remember those days? So easy… anyways, hope you like it J Words: 2933 ***

You were only nine when you started as a bookie’s runner for the Peaky Blinders. Nothing about this was special, half the kids of Small Heath worked for them, but there was just one difference: the Shelby’s were your brothers. It was a good job in many ways, because it meant not only being able to help your brothers, but people were inclined to give you a bit extra, just for being a Shelby. You imagined they thought it good luck.

“Y/N, take this to the other side of town, will you?” Tommy requested as he sat hunched over a newspaper. You protested a little, “Why me? I’ve done all of mine for today…” “This one’s extra, alright?” “Who is it?” you could never hide your inquisitive nature. But you only showed it around your brothers; to the rest of the world you were just quiet and practically invisible. He smirked slightly, “Someone who’ll pay up big. That’s why I need you to do it. Can’t trust any of the other kids not to steal…” “I have some homework to do, Tommy.” At thirteen, you were still at school, which was a minor miracle in Birmingham. “Tell you what: if you just do this one job, I’ll get you magazine you’ve been talking about, eh?” now he looked up and met your eyes. “Book, Tommy,” you smiled, “You might have heard of the concept? It’s a little like a magazine, a little like that newspaper, but with more pages? Some find it challenging, but once you get used to it…” “Alright, little miss know-it-all,” he grumbled without malice, “Go on, take the slip, make sure he bets all. Off with you. Stop outsmarting your old brother, eh?” He winked to make sure you were comfortable and you returned it with a big grin. “Where?” “Digbeth,” Tommy’s nose was back in the newspaper, “behind the Golden Dragon.” ***

As you were walking through the streets of Small Heath on your way to Digbeth, you were daydreaming. In a way it was strange just how different you were from your brothers, because the entire Shelby clan was very realistic, trying to make their way in this hard world, where you would rather pretend all day you were the main character in some story. The books you read, it was all an escape to you. So while you were walking, the people and factories disappeared. In your head, you were walking through the woods, on a secret mission that your king gave you. With the top-priority letter in your pocket, you remembered what he’d told you before you left: “If you get caught, eat the letter. If they capture you, make sure to be brave and never divulge its contents to anyone. And if all else fails, you must make the ultimate sacrifice. But remember, you have to memorize the contents of the letter first…” Wouldn’t it just be easier to memorize it now and destroy the letter immediately? You pondered on the matter… In the distance, you could see the mountains and the towers of another kingdom, and you knew your enemies were near. Without anyone noticing, you put a hand to your pocket and could feel the reassuring rustling of paper underneath your fingers: the letter was still there. If it would come to a fight, how would you go about it? If there were just one man, the small dagger in your boots would suffice. If it were two, you’d distract one, maybe by throwing the veil you were wearing, quickly turning around to kill the other and then back to the first one before he had time to recover. If there were more than three, you’d run, because you were the fastest after all. You’d get to higher ground and attack them from there, like a deadly shadow they could never see coming. As you smiled to yourself, you left the daydream for a short moment. You looked down and saw the muddy shoes you were wearing, marching through Birmingham mud. In the distance, all you saw was smoke and factory pipes. But it was honestly all you needed: your imagination did the rest. The real world barged in when you delivered the slip in Digbeth. Everything went smoothly at first. Your big brown eyes persuaded him to indeed bet big, and you were quite satisfied with yourself, knowing Tommy would be too. But you still had to walk back with a lot of money now in your pocket.

*** Almost home, there were only a few streets to go. Your head was back in the clouds and this time you were imagining you were a spy during the war. Silently, you moved through the streets, making yourself invisible and pretending every man wearing a hat was the enemy. So each time you saw one, you changed directions or hid for a second. It was a fun game, until you realised the enemy wasn’t wearing a hat. “Now, what’s a pretty girl like you doing on the streets, all by herself?” A man with a heavy Cockney accent popped up next to you and your heart nearly jumped out of your chest. You opened your mouth to reply, but no words came out. In your dreams, you always knew what to say, but in reality it wasn’t so easy. The man approached you and you noticed he’d cut you off from your one exit out of the alley, “It’s Y/N Shelby, isn’t it,” he grinned. “No,” you managed to say, “you got the wrong girl.” He grinned again, “Nice try, sweetheart. We’ve seen you at the Garrison. They don’t allow little girls at the pub, unless they’re a Shelby.” This was all true. You felt your hands getting clammy. “Tommy sent you, didn’t he?” Again, you tried to remember what the hero in your stories would do. She’d run, climb the building and then throw a knife right between the eyes of the man. Or she’d say something clever, just to distract him, and then turn around and escape when he least expected it. He took another few steps forward and you could smell him now, a smell of strange smoke and the river, “Do you know who I am?” Nailed to the ground, you shook your head. “I work for Mr. Billy Kimber. Ever heard of him?” You turned to see if you could escape, but then realised the other side of the alley was blocked by two more men. Neither of them were wearing hats. Cold sweat of fear ran down your back. The man in front of you started laughing, “There’s no running, sweetheart. Just give it to me.” At once you realised he was referring to the money in your pocket, but for Tommy’s sake, you wanted at least to try to be brave, “I don’t have anything.” He sighed, “Don’t play with me. I’m not the kind of man to play with, and neither is Mr. Kimber,” his voice was suddenly low and menacing, “Your brother thought he could, thought he would get away with fixing a race, he did, and now he’s going to be put against the post and shot. Don’t think I won’t do the same to you.” You gulped, but still thought of Tommy’s disappointment in you when he would find out you’d been a coward. So you took a deep breath and said softly, “It’s not yours. This money is ours. You can tell Mr. Kimber to go fuck himself!” It didn’t come out as strongly as you’d hoped. Like a crack of thunder, he swiftly slapped you across the face with the back of his hand. All the air was knocked out of your lungs in a second and you stood gasping for air, as you felt some blood trickling down your chin. “Give me the money,” he demanded again. And then, like your heroes, you pretended to reach for it in your pocket. Suddenly, you turned around and started running into the other direction, hoping to slip past the two men before they could stop you. But it didn’t work. One grabbed your arm and when you tried to push him away, he punched you hard. All strength left you in an instant. The second one started fumbling in your pockets and instinctively you kicked him, which earned you another blow to the head. More punches followed and your head was spinning. As you looked up to the sky, you remembered wanting to get back home, to your castle, where all was well and safe.  In the end, they left you on the ground and the money was gone. Your last thought was: Tommy is going to be so embarrassed. 

*** “Y/N?” You opened your eyes, but couldn’t see for a moment. “Y/N,” the familiar voice repeated, “Come on, yes, let’s get you home. Polly, Polly will know what to do, yes…” Strong arms lifted you up and rocking with his familiar limp, Curly carried you back to Watery Lane. When he’d taken you into the kitchen, Aunt Polly flew to your side in seconds, asking, “What’s happened?” Uncertainly, Curly explained and as he did, he started to become upset over your state. That’s when Tommy came in and started to calm him, while keeping an eye on you all the time. “Sweetheart,” Aunt Polly had taken a cold cloth to the cut in your lip, “Wake up… Come back to us…” Again you tried opening you eyes and you finally managed this time. But all your concern was with Curly, who was still anxiously fidgeting with his cap in hand. “Don’t worry, Curly,” you croaked, “I’m alright now. You did good, carrying me here.” “Polly will know what to do…” he kept on repeating. Tommy put a hand on his shoulder and it had an immediate calming effect, “It’s alright, Curly, go back to Charlie, eh? We’ll take care of her now.” Before he left, you said to him, “Curly? I’ll stop by tomorrow, see about that beautiful horse of yours, alright?” That put an immediate smile on his face, “Yes, she’s a beauty, alright… And she needs her princess to ride her! Back to that castle in the sky…yes…” When he’d gone, you lowered your head again and sighed deeply. Carefully, you felt your face and only then realised how awful you must look. “Who did this,” Tommy demanded at once. Polly glared daggers at him, “You did, I presume?” “Me?” “I told you again and again not to use the little ones to run errands. Sending them across half of Birmingham with money in their pockets, and look what happens!” For a moment, Tommy seemed to be speechless. Then he protested, “They’re invisible, Pol. Nobody knows they’re carrying anything.” “This one did,” you interjected, “because he knew who I was.” “How?” “Said he was with Kimber,” you whispered as the memories came back to you, “said he’d put me up against a post and he’d shoot me, like he’d do with you…” In a sudden fit of rage, Tommy grabbed a chair and flung it across the room. Polly snarled at the gesture and then turned to you, “Stay here. This cloth is cold, keep it against your eye, or it’ll turn black in half an hour, and I can’t take you to church looking like that. I just need to have a word with your brother.” You took the cloth and didn’t dare to look at Tommy, who was now being taken away by his aunt like he was ten years old again and in trouble. Aunt Polly closed the door behind her, but you still tried to hear as much as you could. Most of it was lost, but when they started shouting you heard bits like “putting your little sister in danger!” and “this is Billy fucking Kimber, Thomas” and “family first”. At first Tommy protested with “I didn’t know they knew her” and “Kimber is getting weak”, but eventually he shouted out in defeat, “I fucked up, alright? I’ll fix it. I promise.” When they came back, Tommy looked like a dog that’d just been kicked. So he retreated into a corner and started smoking, still sulking a little. Aunt Polly lifted your head up by placing a finger under your chin, “You won’t look pretty for a week, but it’ll heal.” You shrugged, not caring about being pretty at all, and muttered, “I feel like an idiot…” “Why?” your aunt demanded, “because big men decided to go after a small girl?” Tears started forming in the corners of your eyes, as you admitted, “Because I wanted to be brave! In my stories I’m pretty and strong and the hero, but in reality I’m just like a mouse. No one notices me and I’m useless…” “Sweetheart,” Polly softened her voice and crouched down next to you, “Just because you can’t fight like Arthur or John can, doesn’t make you useless. We’re all stuck here, in Small Heath, and there’s nothing pretty about that. But you reading all those books? That’s what’s going to make this easier. You can pretend, and that’s worth more than you’ll ever realise.” You smiled back at your aunt, who always knew what to say to make you feel better. “I’m off to the chemist to get you some powder against the pain,” she kissed the top of your head, “I’ll be right back, love.” After she’d gone as well, you sighed again and dropped the cloth. Her words mattered, of course they did, but it didn’t change the fact that you weren’t happy with yourself at all. For starters, you still couldn’t bear looking at Tommy. “Y/N,” he grumbled, which convinced you even more he was angry and disappointed, “Tell me what they looked like.” “They didn’t wear hats…” Impatiently he waved a hand, “Apart from that. What else?” “I don’t know,” you shrugged, “it all happened fast, Tommy. They had that accent that Kimber has as well.” “Fucking Cockneys…” your brother breathed. “Tommy?” you tried carefully, “I’m so sorry, but I lost the money. I tried to keep it. When they asked I told them to fuck off and then I tried to run and even fight, but they still took it. I’m so sorry…” He held up a hand to silence you and locked eyes with you, “You told them to fuck off?” “Yes, but it didn’t help…” “You actually told them to fuck off?” he frowned, “Usually you’re too shy to even say anything to strangers…” “I was angry,” you explained, “and I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

Tommy walked over to you and much to your surprise, he was smirking, “So you told them to go fuck themselves, and then you fought them?” “Yes?” “Did you hit any of them?” You thought about it for a second, “I think I kicked one in the balls and hit the other in the face.” His grin grew even wider and he mumbled to himself, “Wait ‘till I tell Arthur about this…” “Why?” you protested, “So he can laugh at me as well?” “No, sweetheart, he’ll be the proudest brother ever. His little sister, who everyone thinks is a little mouse too scared to do anything? She fucking hit a grown man and told them to go fuck themselves. Now that’s a hero in my book!” His laugh was contagious and you had to join in. But soon you became uncertain again and asked, “Are you not upset I lost the money?” “The money’s not important,” his face grew serious again in an instant, “but you are.” “Really?” you whispered. “Yes,” he took your face in his hands, “Listen, Y/N, this is what’s going to happen: Billy Kimber threatened my little sister, so I’m going to put himup against the post, and shoot him.” “And then what?” “Well, what usually happens in your books? Maybe I could learn something from them, eh?” A warm feeling of being appreciated for who you were came over you, “You’d take his kingdom and his skull would be put up on the gates, as a warning for all future enemies.” “That’s fucking dark,” Tommy raised one eyebrow, “But I like it.” “Me too…” you smiled at your brother. “I mean it though, Y/N. Kimber touched you, so I’m going to shoot the bastard. I won’t let anyone fucking go near you again.” And just like that, you felt safe enough again to continue dreaming. *** A few weeks later, everything had turned to chaos, both in the Shelby household as in the whole of Birmingham. Tommy didn’t speak to anyone of what happened to you, he hadn’t even apologized, but he wasn’t like that. He told you he’d fix it, promised you revenge, and that was even better. When the men were counting minutes in front of the Garrison and Billy Kimber’s army arrived, you were sitting at home with a book. You couldn’t really concentrate, because you knew there were too many of them. You pretended some angel would appear to save them all. There’d have to be no bloodshed, because this angel would be on your brothers’ side. That angel came in the form of your older sister Ada. She’d always had flair. In the end, only two bullets were fired. You listened to them both. One killed Danny Whizz-bang. The other killed Billy Kimber. Nobody knew, but as Tommy fired, he didn’t have business on his mind.

As he aimed, he saw his little sister’s face, all bruised and battered.

He whispered, “for Y/N,” and shot.

Bang.

***

Masterlist

[deiliamedlini]

In Plain Sight

Summary: The Kingdom of Hyrule has a strict no-magic policy; any magic user could be put to death if they’re found out... even if that person is the Princess.

~Generic AU. Zelink. Mild/moderate violence range.~

Word Count: 8436

Or on Ao3

~~

“Keep it secret. Keep it hidden. From everyone, especially your father.”

Zelda kept her hands behind her back, her mother’s voice echoing through her memory as she stared at the pyres in the distance, flames roaring with the vengeance that her father poured into every witch hunt. There were three this time, and Zelda was grateful that they were far enough away that they couldn’t hear the commotion that always accompanied such events.

“This is barbaric,” she whispered, as she did every time she was forced to attend.

“This is justice,” her father, King Rhoam whispered in return. “They are a blight. The greatest evils in this world are caused by these creatures, and they must be purged.”

Zelda said nothing, simply sighing and keeping her eyes on the ground until it was over. The grass wasn’t terribly interesting. It swayed in the wind every now and then, but there was little else to occupy her. She counted the intervals between gusts. They were uneven and unequally spaced out until they stopped all together.

She glanced up. The spectacle was still taking place, and she needed to stay entertained to get through this.

Biting her lip, she took a brief glance at her father before curling her finger behind her back and immediately feeling the wind return, a bit stronger so it could caress her face and move her hair and whip at their royal cloaks. She turned into it and closed her eyes, letting a smile rest on her lips as she felt the magic in it as poignantly as if it were a physically tangible thing. She knew this was something only people like her could feel.

She hummed in contentment, lost in the distracting feeling.

“Wind’s picked up, eh?” her father mumbled, tugging his flapping cloak against him.

Zelda felt a prickle on the back of her neck, which always happened when someone was watching her, and her eyes immediately glanced around until she found the source of the attention, because her father’s eyes were rapt on the scene in the distance, even when he spoke to her.

One of the knights, her favorite, in fact, had his eyes on her, softly watching her enjoy the breeze. She never mistook the gleam in his eyes as anything other than simple attraction, as she was sure he’d noticed in the way she lazily watched him go about his tasks as well.

So when their eyes met, they both smiled at each other for the briefest moment, forgetting where they were and who was around before he regained his better senses first and proceeded to look straight ahead at attention, as he was expected to.

“Can’t we leave yet?” Zelda asked, letting the wind die down slowly so as not to seem suspicious.

“Stop asking me, Zelda. You’re a Princess, and you must endure long events without complaint.”

“Yes, court hearings and council meetings. But watching people die? Please… I…uh…. I have a delicate heart,” she said quickly, unsure what else could get her out of this. “And these events so easily break it.”

King Rhoam looked at her and sighed. If nothing else, he did love his daughter. He had a terribly odd way of showing it, but he did. And to him, she was still just a fragile child.

“Link!” he called, and Zelda’s favorite knight stepped forward. “Take the Princess back to the castle.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Link said, bowing first to the King and then to Zelda as he followed behind her.

When they were far enough away, Zelda visibly shuddered and turned over her shoulder for a final look at the smoke in the air, praying that no one ever found out her secret, or she would be up there herself.

Her father loved her, but there was no doubt that he hated magic more. Other royals in the past hadn’t been exempt from the law. Her own mother had been one of them, and her grandfather had carried out the sentence himself.

Zelda had been under more scrutiny in her youth when they were watching to see if she’d inherited her mother’s magic, but Zelda heeded her mother’s words and kept every impulse to herself, fighting not to use it at all. Now, it practically called to her, begging to be used, like a siren calling a sailor into the sea. She simply couldn’t help it at times.

At night, she’d pray to the Goddess, begging Her to take away Zelda’s powers. She wanted to feel safe in her own home, and to lose the one thing that made her special. She wanted to be normal. Ordinary. Unassuming. Uninteresting. Safe.

The Goddess never listened, and Zelda’s magic only grew stronger over the years.

“I hate those events,” she muttered to Link as he hurried up beside her.

“I know.”

“Why do you do it?” she asked, glaring at him.

Loyal to a fault, Link was one of the knights who was responsible for bringing in many of the magic users who’d eventually be put to death. It was an order from the King. And Link never refused an order.

“His Majesty commands that I do so.”

“What if I command that you stop?” she asked, already knowing his answer.

“I’m sorry, Princess. Your father’s commands supersede your own.”

“I know,” she whispered as they reached their horses. Link helped her onto hers before they both made their way across Hyrule Field.

Zelda was in no hurry to get back, and Link matched whatever pace Zelda set.

“But why?” she asked again, a little more frustrated. This wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation, and for some reason, she expected his answers to change.

She’d long since commanded him to ride and walk beside her when they were alone. She welcomed his company when she had it, and him walking behind her always frustrated her while trying to hold a discussion.

“If I don’t do it, I’ll be killed, and someone will replace me. My noncompliance will not change a thing. And if I can be honest, Princess, I’d rather be alive to be your guard than die in vain protest. Your father doesn’t care for me. I won’t be a martyr. I’ll just be another fallen soldier.”

The trees passed them by, and they rode into the wide expanse of the truest part of Hyrule Field, where the mountains in the distance were unobstructed by trees or castles or buildings. Small streams took the place of lakes, and the field was calling them closer with the light colors and gentle swaying grass.

“Have you ever let anyone go?” she asked, turning to him.

He looked at her with wide eyes. And though he knew her better, it almost felt like she was attempting to trap her into admitting something that could get him killed, and he immediately defaulted to defense, like the soldier that he was. “I would never! My command is to bring in all magic users for questioning. From there, it’s not in my hands. I cannot disobey my orders. If anyone found out, I’d be strung up beside them.”

“’If anyone found out?’” she asked curiously and uncompromising. She could see him squirm, and she didn’t care. She wasn’t trying to trap him, and her curiosity had gotten them both into far worse situations in the past. “What if you could guarantee that no one would ever find out. Would you do it?”

Link shook his head and made a contorted face that betrayed his stress. “I don’t know. It’s not a situation that will ever happen, so I don’t need to consider it. Besides, I am loyal to the monarch of Hyrule. I will not disobey, no matter my beliefs.” He turned to see her disappointed expression, and it pulled at something inside him that he often tried to ignore. He longed to comfort her, but this conversation could be treason. So he spoke true words that were still carefully cultivated to keep him safe. “Now, if you command me to stop when you’re Queen of Hyrule, I’ll have no choice but to gladly obey that command.”

Zelda smirked at him, blushing under his stare but let the conversation drop and returned her attention to the field. Too much prodding was suspicious, but she was allowed this much after watching the deaths. There was nothing suspicious after coming back from such a horrific event.

Suddenly, Zelda gasped and signaled for Link to stop and dismount with her. She ran over to a tree that stood alone in the field and fell to her knees, crawling over to the base of it. “Link, look!” she called behind her.

Two Silent Princesses bloomed fiercely, their blue and white petals enticing her over with the force a predator might attract prey. And with this flower, her absolute favorite in all Hyrule, she would happily be its prey and stare at it, study it, observe it.

The hair on her neck pricked again, and she knew that Link was looking at her, not the flower.

It wasn’t an unpleasant or even distracting sensation. She felt it so often as the Princess that she was able to tune it out in larger crowds. But when there were fewer people, she was more attuned to the feeling. And when she was just with Link, she felt it often.

“Link—” she said, twisting around to beckon him over, unsure if he simply hadn’t heard her. But she felt her cheeks immediately burn when she realized that his gaze was decidedly not near her face.

His eyes darted up to hers immediately, but there was no denying that he’d been caught. He grabbed the hair at the back of his neck and fisted it tight, cursing as he felt himself flushed and ready to die a little. Suddenly, the grass became terribly interesting, because he couldn’t stop staring at it, unwilling to let himself look at her again because she already knew where his focus had been. He debated apologizing or holding on to that last sliver of hope that she hadn’t actually noticed.

Zelda let out a nervous chuckle as she folded her hands in her lap while she sat back. But once she felt the nerves pass, she waved her hand dismissively and held one out to Link to encourage him to join her. “Come here.”

He was more than grateful that she didn’t bring it up. Link even debated taking her outstretched hand to let her pull him beside her, but after that, he couldn’t let himself slip around the Princess of Hyrule once again, and he knelt beside her, one knee down like he was bowing.

Zelda wished he could get comfortable around her, but she couldn’t blame him. He’d gotten too comfortable for a moment and been caught just seconds ago.

One thing that she liked the most about Link was that he often forgot himself around her. He treated her like a person, and not just a figurehead. And Link felt the same, basking in the rare courtesy that someone showed him. Zelda knew he was just a human, fallible, and imperfect.

They were each other’s haven when the rest of the world expected too much of them. Link was not a pawn, and Zelda was not a princess. They were simply friends.

“There’s two of them,” she said instead, hoping to take his mind off of things, to coax that easy friendship back out of him. “They’re so beautiful. It’s a shame how fast they wilt when indoors.”

“They’re your favorite,” he said simply, running a gloved hand over the petal. It wasn’t a question.

“They are. You knew that?”

“I do.”

She stared at him for a while longer before accepting that he wasn’t going to elaborate on how he knew. This wasn’t the first time she’d dragged him from his horse to look at flowers, mushrooms, bugs, or even frogs, so there was nothing to give her away by her reaction. He simply knew. He knew her.

Resting her chin in her hand, she stared at the flower. “Convince me not to run experiments on one of these in an attempt to domesticate it. Convince me to leave them both here.”

“I’d never think to try to deter you from your research, Princess.”

She grinned in his direction before biting her lip, one final consideration before she uprooted one of the flowers carefully from the ground and returned to her horse with Link beside her.

Days passed with little success in her experiments. The flower was withering quickly, and the edges especially were shriveling. Link returned to his other duties, and she to hers.

Nearly a week after taking the flower, it was near death, and she wished he had convinced her to leave it where it belonged.

“Princess?” Link’s voice called from outside her door.

Zelda stood up from her desk and looked around, flicking her fingers at some clothes until they moved into her closet, and then again at the bed that she’d taken a nap in that the maids had never fixed—unbeknownst to them that she’d slept at all. The blankets returned to their pin-straight smoothness, and the pillows carefully arranged themselves. She stood in front of her door and waited for them to stop moving before turning the handle for Link.

“Hello,” she said pleasantly.

“Princess,” he greeted and stepped into her room, looking around.

It was a nightly inspection for anything amiss, something her soldiers had done since she was a little girl. She was used to the invasion of privacy for the sake of her safety by now, but when it was Link on guard, it always gave her some time to talk to him, even if it made her slightly embarrassed to have him go through some of her things. But shame was something she’d long-since set aside when it came to this nightly ritual. At this point, half the guards in the castle knew what was in her room from this task.

He began in her closet, looking intently enough to make sure there was no hidden assailant, but fast enough to avoid invading her privacy too much.

“How was training?” she asked curiously.

Link chuckled and turned to her, calling her out on that question. “Why do you ask? I saw you come by.”

She blushed and tripped over her foot before steadying herself. She hadn’t realized he’d seen her. She bit her lip, following beside him as he made his way around her room. “Well… from a knight’s perspective, I mean.”

He stopped his search for a moment to look at her, his eyebrow raised suspiciously, and—dare she even think it—a little bit flirtatiously. The corner of his mouth lifted slowly. “It was fine, Princess.”

He returned his attention to his search, walking beside her desk, his eyes trailing along her open books, quills, the wilting flower, and her bag. He then looked under the desk before moving on.

“I’m so bored,” she whined, leaning against the wall beside him. “Give me more details than that. Humor me, at least.”

“You’re bored? I couldn’t tell,” he snorted, this time a full smile gracing his face. “Unfortunately, there are no details, Princess. It was just… fine.” Then he got onto his knees to look under her bed.

With him on his hands and knees and his upper half hidden under the bed, Zelda understood the appeal of letting her eyes linger low on someone one considered attractive. Though it was not for the first time that she admired him, she did connect her thought back to the way she’d caught him just a week ago staring at her.

She crossed her arms, and both cursed and praised whoever had come up with the form-fitting design on the royal guard uniform pants. He wiggled a lot too so he could see all angles under the bed, and Zelda bit her lip as she indulged in the moment, probably more than Link had the other day when she’d caught him ogling her. Zelda was, after all, a scholar who loved to observe her specimens.

Link always moved quickly in everything he did. It’s why he was primarily appointed to guard her so often: his reflexes, his skill, his speed; he was all but a machine. It was no surprise that he was quick to search under the bed as well, always courteous to keep her privacy as untouched as possible. So, he efficiently removed himself from under the bed and turned to Zelda before she had the time to look away.

Blushing viciously, Zelda, unlike Link, managed to keep Link’s gaze, undeterred by being caught. Link had gone red, but as he pushed himself to his feet and started to walk to her windows, he let his arm brush hers, a sly grin on his face to match her own.

Zelda bobbed her head to the side triumphantly, following him to the balcony, as she always did.  He looked over the edge, and Zelda looked as well, wishing she knew exactly what ‘signs’ he was looking for. Was there meant to be a person on her roof?

She felt that sensation on her neck again, only this time, she let herself pretend not to notice until she’d swept the entirety of the roof with her eyes before meeting his.

They were soft as they watched her.

She turned towards him and hesitated for a moment. “So? Am I in danger?”

“You’re safe, Princess.”

“Thank you. Will you be in for the morning round? Or are you going to see your mother?”

“How do you know—”

“You mentioned it a few weeks ago.”

His eyebrows went up. “You remembered?”

“I do listen when you speak, Link.”

He took a deep breath and nodded. “Yes, I’m most likely going to ride out for the day, but I’ll be here in the morning.”

“Okay,” she smiled, following him back into the room as he made for her door. “I’ll see you then.”

“Goodnight, Princess.”

“Goodnight, Link,” she said, closing the door.

She leaned against it and took a deep breath to steady herself before returning to her workbench and her wilting flower.

“I shouldn’t have done this to you,” she whispered to it as if it could hear her apology. She set to stroking the petals gently, and as she did, color went back into it, straightening the stem out, returning the petals to their softness and former glory, flourishing and beautiful and alive. It made her giggle, as magic sometimes did when it felt good. Breathing life back into something always felt particularly special.

She stood up, satisfied, and closed her eyes to picture an outfit as she ran her hand just in front of herself. When she opened her eyes, the clothes she’d been wearing had swapped places with the pajamas on her chair, and she was comfortably ready for bed.

The magic was practically bursting from her, and once she ducked under the covers, she passed a ball of light between her hands, letting it hover as she did. It soothed her and let her release a lot of her magic at once, which made it easier to control in the long run.

Once she’d tired out, she drifted into a peaceful sleep.

Until hours later when there was a knock on her door.

“Princess?”

Zelda groaned and cracked her eye open, scowling at the bright sun coming through her window. “Is it morning already?” she called back, faceplanting her pillow.

She could practically hear Link chuckle. “Unfortunately, it is, Princess.”

“Ugh!” she groaned, covering her eyes with her arm. “Give me a moment.” She closed her eyes again, and at once she felt her heavy eyes thank her, completely at peace, as if she could fall immediately back to sleep.

“Princess?” he knocked again.

She sat up with a start. She knew Link would never knock twice in a row after she asked him to wait. “Link? Did I fall back asleep?”

This time, she was positive he laughed. “I believe you might have.”

“I’m so sorry,” she hissed, grabbing her robe off the bedpost and wrapping it around herself, stumbling for the door. “I’m sorry,” she said again when she opened it, nearly falling into Link as she tried to get her sleep-addled brain to work.

He came into the room and looked around. “No need to apologize. This can’t be the most fun wakeup call to have to go through each day.”

She cleared her throat and carefully waved her finger quickly in front of her, ensuring that her breath didn’t smell of sleep before she spoke. Link turned to her and she felt the prickle on her neck, but she was still bleary eyed as she tried to talk to him. “It’s understandable. Ever since Twinrova, I don’t hate this routine as much as I used to. Though I would like a little bit more sleep in the mornings.”

Her eyes finally cleared enough to realize he was staring at her, his eyes looking her over in a way that she’d only seen a few times from him, and mostly when he thought she wasn’t looking. Last time he’d looked at her like this, she’d been wearing a ballgown.

This time, she realized suddenly, she was standing beside Link looking a mess. She’d normally remembered to tame her frazzled bed-hair or change clothes before the guards entered in the morning, but she’d forgotten. It wasn’t the first time this had happened, but it was the first time she’d forgotten with Link as the guard. And he was the only one that she blushed around.

She was in her light robe, her heavier ones put away for the season; her shirt was too small on her, riding up over her stomach, but she welcomed that and a pair of shorts in the summer heat. Feeling her hair, she gently smoothed it down, though she could feel the wild tangles from a fitful, warm night. She tugged the robe closed and bit her lip, blushing as she closed her eyes and turned away, cursing herself again.

“Sorry,” she finally said, when she had the courage to look back at him. “Excuse my appearance.”

He took a deep breath and cleared his throat, finally coming back to himself. “You look…” he didn’t finish, and laughed softly to himself as red spread along his neck. Then he simply nodded at her and hurried to her closet to start his routine.

When Link’s back was to her, Zelda covered her eyes and groaned, wondering if she could tell him not to look at her long enough to at least switch into pants rather than shorts. But then she would be announcing that she’d be changing behind his back, and that made her feel distinctly less comfortable than simply enduring her embarrassment from looking like a bridge troll.

Link passed her, his eyes sweeping over her almost subconsciously before he kept up his search. He reached her desk and stopped, his fingers trailing along the stem of the Silent Princess.

Zelda watched him as she tied her robe closed rather than holding it before going over to him. “That’s the one we found last week. My experiments are slowing the decaying process.”

“Slowing?” he asked carefully, rubbing the petal lightly. “Was this here last night?”

“Ye—” she started before she froze. Last night, it had been withered and shriveled. And Link was keen enough to know that. Her heart raced until he finally glanced over at her, curiosity burning in his eyes, his hand still on the flower.

“No,” she finally said. “I had a different flower here that I was looking at. One that didn’t survive an experiment. I worked a little longer after you left.”

He stared at her for a long moment, but not with the same look he’d had when he’d seen what she was wearing. This was distinctly pensive, and she could see the wheels in his brain spinning rapidly. For once, she cursed that he was smarter than everyone gave him credit for. He thumbed the flower one more time before circling around the room to get to her bed.

She followed behind him so he couldn’t see the absolute stress on her face, or the way she kept fisting the roots of her hair as she thought about her carelessness.

He knelt down, and turned to her, catching her in her worried state. He froze on his knees, his brow furrowing. “Are you alright this morning, Princess?”

She let go of her hair and nodded. “Just tired. Are you excited to see you mother? When was the last time you visited her?”

Link took a deep breath and shrugged as he looked under the bed. “I’m not going. I was called on another… assignment.”

Assignments. That’s what they often called apprehending magic users.

Zelda sat on the bed and heard Link groan before he pulled his head out.

“Sorry,” she said quickly.

Link leaned an elbow against the bed and watched her from his knees. She grabbed one of her fringed pillows, needing something to distract her hands until she finally turned to him. “Is there any situation that you’d defy my father and just not do it? Just let them be in peace, or refuse to go despite your orders?”

“No,” he said, too quickly.

“What if it was just to make me happy? Would you do it then?”

That stopped him, and he hesitated, staring at her as he thought. She could see the conflict warring in him. He was like her in that he truly didn’t want to apprehend magic users unless they posed a threat, like anyone else. But his loyalty to the crown… it went beyond his loyalty to her, and she knew it. The answer to this question would only hurt them both, and she knew that too.

“No,” he finally said, looking away, ashamed of his own answer. He stood up without another look at her and went to the window and balcony.

She didn’t follow him this time, sulking on the bed instead, as if she’d expected a different answer from him. And when he returned, she looked back at him. “Do you think they’re all evil, like my father does?”

“No,” he said, again too quickly, too certainly. “I think we’re all capable of great evil, magic or not. The measure of a good person is one who doesn’t succumb to the pull of that evil. Magic isn’t involved in that decision.”

“So, you think I’m capable of great evil?” she asked, only partially teasing him.

“You’re the only exception,” he said with a grin.

She smiled and nodded, but it was laced with sadness. “Thank you. Be safe while you’re out there.”

He nodded in return. “I should be back by about midafternoon.”

“Okay,” she sighed, and he left without another word. Her head slammed back into the mattress and she longed for a way to protect more people like her.

She glanced at her desk where she could see her Silent Princess and groaned. She could barely keep herself safe. How could she protect others?

Zelda was sorely reminded of her powerlessness when her father made her go to the magic user’s ‘trial’ the next day, a trial that was preceded over by the King himself.

She stood on the balcony with Link behind her as she watched her father in his throne, head of the proceedings. There was never a fair trial, and the accused were almost always found guilty.

This time though, it was a little harder to deny.

“You are sentenced to burn at the stake until dead,” her father said after hearing everything he needed to. No matter how many times he said it, it was still spat with as much resolve and vigor as the first time he’d uttered those words.

“No!” the man yelled, rattling the chains around his bound wrists.

Link took a step forward as the room shook with the man’s rage.

Literally.

“No!” he screamed again, this time, his eyes darting to Zelda and then back to her father. “You and your family will die for what you’ve done to us!”

Zelda sucked in a breath and shuddered, but she gasped when she felt Link’s hand slide into her own. His other hand was on the sword at his back, always ready to move.

Their eyes met for a brief moment, and he tightened his grip reassuringly, which she returned before they both watched the man’s fit before the throne as soldiers tried to get near him, only to be thrown back against the wall by the unseen force of his magic.

Biting her lip, Zelda debated whether or not to intervene, but her decision was made for her when she saw the man turn his attention to a display of weapons that began to shake loose and hovered at the ready, like projectiles.  

Zelda clenched her free hand, holding on to the weapons to prevent him from flinging them anywhere. It was difficult to hold so many objects still, but she kept them tight as she felt his magic tug against hers.

He was visibly rattled by the intervention, his head whipping around to try to find the source. But the distraction gave a guard the opportunity to try to apprehend him.

The man went to jerk his head, to send the guard flying, but Zelda dropped the weapons and curved her wrist, holding his head still so the magic was derailed, and the force hit the wall instead, sending a picture crashing to the ground, but not a person.

Gasping in shock, the man tugged at his chin. But the magic was like a hand, and he followed it straight to her eyes. He scoffed, his wide and accusing glare chilling her to the core.

Her hand fell and she let go of him, her heart stopping completely in that moment. He knew it was her.

She and Link tightened their grip on each other as soon as the man’s attention went to her, but the man let out another scream. This time, flames roared from his mouth, and straight towards Zelda.

She didn’t realize she was on the ground until she saw the flames above her. Link had her cocooned between him and the stone balcony, his head shielding her from the worst heat of the fire.

His reactions were fast though, and he pulled her to her knees, dragging her beside him to get her off the balcony. Zelda noticed a flag above had also caught fire, but Link had her out before she could discern any other damage. He didn’t care if the whole castle caught fire; Zelda was his priority.  

He pulled her behind him as other guards ran into the room, likely to deal with the fire. But that wasn’t Link’s responsibility.

He grabbed a passing guard. “Hey, tell the King I’m bringing the Princess back to her room for safety.”

“Sure, Link,” she said before hurrying into the throne room.

Link said no more until he’d practically pushed Zelda all the way back to her own room. Zelda was still rattled, and she let him guide her as her thoughts were stuck on the way that man had looked at her. What was he saying now? She couldn’t focus on the halls or the doors.

So she was beyond surprised when Link gently placed a hand on her cheek and let the other run through her hair.

“Are you okay?” he breathed, looking her over for any wounds or injuries. “Were you burned?”

“No, I’m fine. Are you?”

“Yeah, I am.” He stopped and stared at her, eyes wide as he breathed through an unfamiliar sensation that threatened to steal the air from his lungs.

Link had been a royal guard for years. He’d worked closely with Zelda for quite a while. But he’d never been in a situation where she’d actually been in danger. Sure, he’d cleared bandits off the road, or taken down a bokoblin hunting party before they could reach the Princess, but he’d had those situations entirely under control. This? The flames had nearly hit her. If he’d been any slower…

“Thank you,” she whispered, stopping his train of thought when she took the opportunity to lightly brush back some of his hair that had fallen loose of his ponytail and into his face. She tucked a strand behind his ear and let her hand trail along his skin while he watched, too nervous to move with her that close.

Her door swung open, and Link was in front of her with his sword drawn before she could even gasp.

But he quickly sheathed it and dropped to his knee, head bowed as King Rhoam rushed in and grabbed Zelda.

“Are you okay? They’re taking that demon away now for an immediate execution. He was raving, threatening you. Saying it was your fault as they dragged him away. Link, I want you to stay alert for the rest of the day and night. Don’t leave her side, do you understand? I don’t trust him, even in death.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Good. I’m going to deal with that monster. I don’t want you there today, Zelda.”

“Okay,” she muttered as Rhoam stormed back out of her room, slamming her door violently.

She was glad she wasn’t going to be there. Rhoam was going to make it hurt.

“He said it was your fault?” Link asked, his brow furrowing.

Zelda shrugged and leaned against her desk, staring down at her Silent Princess. “He said it was the Royal Family’s fault. He must have meant me indirectly.”

Link moved up beside her, his eyes lingering on the flower as well before she felt the prickle of his gaze. “You’re trembling. You should sit and breathe. Deep breaths.”

She sat on the bed and pulled her legs up, adjusting the bottom of her dress over her knees. “I wish I could have been born normal.”

Link knelt beside her. “If you were normal, we’d never have met, so I’m glad you’re not.”

She smiled as he misinterpreted what she meant. She let him. He was cute, his eyes still wide with worry. “Yeah, that’s a perk.”

Link was on her heels the rest of the day while she did her tasks and entertained herself in the library. He was quiet and far more watchful, and Link’s orders were reiterated to him by the King that night at dinner.

Rhoam pointed his fork threateningly in Link’s direction where he stood. “You do not leave her side tonight; do you understand?”

Link now stood in the corner of her bedroom, staring at the wall like a punished child while she changed.

“My father was literal, huh? Not to leave my side,” she mused, opting for a longer pair of pants this time.

“Mhmm,” he mumbled.

“Are you going to sleep at all? Swap guards?”

“No.”

Zelda crawled under her blankets. This wasn’t the first time a guard had to be in her room overnight to watch for a threat either, but again, it was the first time it was Link. “You can turn now.”

He hesitated before carefully looking at her. “I’ll just patrol the room throughout the night. Any footsteps you hear will likely be mine, so try to sleep through it.”

“Okay,” she said, familiar with that speech from the past.

He nodded awkwardly before heading out to the balcony. He turned to her once more. “Goodnight, Princess. I’m glad you’re okay.”

She smiled at him, trying to reassure him that this was normal for her. “You as well, Link.”

But she couldn’t sleep.

She heard his footsteps, sure, but for the most part, she was distracted by that prickle on her neck brushing over her often, letting her know that Link was watching her. Each time, her heart sped up, and she cracked her eyes open if she wasn’t facing him. She was usually better at ignoring it, but she had a feeling it was distinctly because it was Link, and she was hyperaware of him anyway.

She’d finally drifted off, but she awoke again some time later. The prickle was there, but it was different, and almost entirely foreign to her. In fact, she knew he wasn’t looking in her direction because of how different it felt. This wasn’t the same sensation at all. Her hairs stood up on her arms and the back of her neck, and she was immediately tense. But she sat up and opened her eyes, blinking the sleep from them and rubbing them as if that would wipe away the memory. Perhaps it had been a bad dream that stirred her.

Then she felt Link looking at her. That was familiar.

She turned to where he stood half in, half out between her room and the balcony, leaning against the frame. He was silhouetted by the light of the night sky, so she couldn’t see his face, but she didn’t need to.

“You alright?” he whispered.

“Yeah. Just felt weird. Probably a bad dream. It was so strange.”

“Okay. Don’t wake yourself up taking to me,” he chuckled.

“I like talking to you.”

He smiled at her, his teeth catching the moonlight before he turned his head into it. “You too, Princess.”

She watched him for a while, admiring the way the light framed him and drew her eye. Her chin was against her pulled-up knee that she hugged close to her. It was strange to realize that she could watch him for so long without feeling bored or embarrassed, enjoying the many different ways the moonlight caught his face.

But then, she felt her neck prickle again, and she sat up straight. Link turned at her sudden movement.

“Link, come here!” she said, too frightened to whisper.

He was by her side in an instant, sword drawn from her tone. “What is it?”

“Someone’s watching from the dark,” she breathed, this time, too hushed for anything but Link’s ears.

“Where? Did you see them?”

“No, but they’re there. Trust me.”

He glanced at her for a second before he nodded and held his sword ready in his hand while he searched the room slowly and carefully.

But the feeling never went away from her neck, even when he wasn’t looking. She covered her mouth, unnerved by how strong it was. Like they were right behind her, breathing on her skin, drawing every goosebump out of hiding.

She shot forward with a shriek, crawling to the end of the bed before turning to stare at the empty space in front of her. The sensation was burning.

Link was at the foot of her bed, sword raised, waiting for the threat.  

She could feel it, this time right in front of her, hovering just in front of her face. She whimpered and started to crawl back until she’d run out of room, and then leaned back into Link while he watched her, confused. To him, there was nothing. There was no sensation, no prickle on his neck, no goosebumps. The only fear he felt was because Zelda was in such a panic. He almost wondered if maybe she were still dreaming.

“Zelda?” he whispered, one hand snaking around her waist to support her as she kept moving backwards until she was flush against him, even pushing him off balance in her attempt to keep moving back.

“It’s here. It’s right here. Link… please…”

He held her tighter, his arm completely wrapped across her waist, his eyes fluttering around the empty space on her bed. But he could feel her shuddering violently. And he trusted Zelda, even if he didn’t know what for.

In a single motion, he spun Zelda off the bed and thrust out his sword into the air.

An inhuman figure screeched out into the darkness, taking shape as it writhed in its pain.

Link jumped back at the sudden appearance, but he recovered fast enough to push Zelda back when the creature slinked onto the floor and began to crawl toward them. Link stabbed it again, and it howled.

“Where are the guards?” she yelled as Link kept pushing her towards the hall.

But at that, he stopped her, grabbing her wrist and pulling her behind him instead. They’d have come in with all the noise. Either they weren’t outside for some reason, or they were killed.

The creature calmed down again and stood taller than any person Zelda had ever seen. Link stepped forward with his sword, and this time, the figure sidestepped his stab and backhanded Zelda, sending her crashing into the wall with inhuman force before turning its attention to Link. Sharp claws pried at the chain-link armor Link wore while he struggled to get up, screaming as the claws began to pierce straight through the armor and started tearing at his skin.

Zelda blinked and crawled away from her wall, pushing the hair from her face so she could see. And she could see Link bleeding.

“Link!” she screamed, her hand flying out on instinct. The figure was thrown back as she released her power, and Link sat up, one hand over his wound as he stared at her in shock.

She stumbled, her head throbbing from the impact, but she made her way to stand over Link while he gawked at her.

These consequences were ones she was willing to deal with later. She wasn’t going to let Link die just to keep her secret.

The creature hissed and crawled up on to the wall before flinging itself at Zelda, taking her down to the ground with ease. Its sharp fingers, no longer a full claw, dug into the skin at her neck and she tried to pry it loose with her magic, which was stronger than her actual grip. But the creature was strong too.

Until it was screeching again.

Fingers slackened their hold on her, and Zelda looked up to see Link’s sword through its head as he clutched his bleeding wound. It slithered back and rematerialized on the other side of the room.

Link stood over Zelda. “You okay?”

She checked her skin, her hands coming back bloody. “I don’t know yet.”

It let out a roar as its shape changed again, and suddenly there were tentacle-like appendages, one going for Zelda and pinning her down, and the other clawing at Link’s armor again, the tip a sharp point that was relentless in its attempt to reach a vital organ.

Link screamed, stabbing futilely at the tendril as the metal of his armor kept being torn away like chipping paint.

“Link!” Zelda yelled again, managing to gather enough magic to push the creature’s arm off her. She scampered to her feet, slipping in a small pool of blood before she stood between the creature and Link, flinching back nervously.

She closed her eyes and drew from Link, feeling his gaze on her, feeling his presence. Feeling his wound. She was exposing herself for his sake, and that drew her powers behind her, rearing up.

Her eyes fluttered and her head throbbed, but when she opened her eyes, the creature was outlined perfectly for her rather than a dark mass of limbs, and she sent a burst of bright light at its center, holding it there until it became too much for them both. But she shook with effort, keeping it there a moment longer.

And the creature burst apart into darkness, disappearing like smoke.

She collapsed, and heard Link hit the floor right behind her.

Despite his injury, Link’s eyes were wide on her.

“You?”

“Me.”

The door burst open, as if the creature had been holding it shut, and a hoard of guards poured into her room, followed shortly by the king himself.

“Zelda!” he yelled, pushing past everyone. “What happened?” he shot a look behind him, “Get the physician! They’re hurt!”

Zelda turned to Link, her eyes wide and fearful. He clutched his wound tightly and forced himself to his knee, to bow before the king.

“We heard screams. What happened?” Rhoam asked again, looking around in an effort to find a body. “Was this magic, or did someone escape?”

Link turned to Zelda over his shoulder and saw a tear run down her cheek as she looked at her father, and then at Link.

“It was magic,” Link breathed, realizing just how much it hurt to talk.

“Someone was in my daughter’s room?”

“They…” he froze and turned back to Zelda and then to Rhoam. “It came through the wall behind the Princess’ bed. It was a figure at first, and I stabbed it, but it completely reformed as something else, like it wasn’t really alive. Each time, it got a bit stronger and then…” he stopped and winced, taking a breath and another opportunity to look at Zelda. She was shaking.

“It had the Princess down on the ground, its… arm thing on her throat. And I stabbed it through its head, which made it… well… die, I suppose. It turned to nothing and disappeared. Once it did, its hold on the door must have released because that’s when you came in.”

Zelda’s eyes were locked on Link, wide and afraid and surprised and thankful all at once.

“Link,” she breathed before relieved tears started to rush down her cheeks, and she threw herself into his arms. “Thank you.”

He returned the gesture, biting down the pain it was causing him to do so as one of his arms still covered his bleeding wound. “You’re safe,” he whispered, and she tugged him tighter at the secondary meaning.

Rhoam put his hand on Zelda’s shoulder comfortingly until the physicians ran in and began to take care of the both of them.

That was the last Zelda heard of Link for two weeks while he recovered. She’d spent about a week of that time recovering herself, but it wasn’t until the night shift when she heard his voice sound out behind her door.

“Princess?”

“Link!” she called, hurrying to the door and whipping it open. “You’re back? You’re okay?”

He nodded and patted his chest, as if that proved that it no longer hurt. And with that, she pulled him against her and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck.

“Thank the Goddess!” she breathed, letting go to close the door and to back away from him, to give him space from her. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“I… you must… I’m… do you remember what happened?”

“Yes.”

“All of it?”

“All of it.”

That almost made her more confused.

“You didn’t tell my father. You said you wouldn’t disobey his orders, even for me. You were meant to tell him about me. What I am. What I can do.”

“You were never the one in danger while I was obeying orders.”

“You’re not… afraid of me?”

He took a step forward and held out his hand to her. “I could never be afraid of you, Zelda.”

She smiled, relief flowing through her just before the rush of butterflies hit. She took his hand and squeezed it, and a deep, unfamiliar longing settled over her. For the first time since her mother died, someone knew about her. And he wasn’t running.

“How long?” he asked. “Have you had… magic?”

“Forever. My mother helped me before she was killed.”

“You had it then? When they ran all those tests?”

She nodded and let go of him so she could sit on the bed. He sat on the other end.

“I saw the flower. That was you, wasn’t it?”

“Yes. Was my story that easy to see through?”

“No. I believed you.”

“Just like you did when I told you that thing was in front of me. Why?”

He ran a hand along his face. “I don’t know. I just trust you.” He chuckled to himself. “A lot makes sense now: your attitude towards the deaths, the flower, that day with the horse…”

“You noticed that?”

He grinned. “The tournament?”

She grimaced. “Yes, but he was going to kill that man!”

“That dinner a few months ago?”

“Okay, but she deserved that!”

“My mother getting better?”

Zelda looked away and nodded.

“Thank you. You risked exposing yourself for my family.” He scooted a little closer. “Did you actually do something to that fire breathing guy?”

“I did.”

“You’re incredible.”

“I’m dangerous,” she scoffed, glancing at her door as if her father might pop out at any second.

He reached out and ran his knuckles lightly along the side of her neck where a discolored scar marked where the creature had grabbed her. “I trust you.”

She flinched before settling into his touch. “I think it goes without saying that you can’t tell anyone. My trust, and my life, rest entirely in your hands. And as uncomfortable as I am with that concept, you’re possibly the only one I actually trust with my life.”

Link smirked and blushed, but he tried to play it off. “You don’t trust your other guards?”

“I do, but if anyone other than you had been in here with me, I believe they’d have told my father about me.”

“Well,” he said, standing up. “You don’t have to worry about me. I wouldn’t tell the Goddess herself if She asked.”

He looked in her closet, remembering he had an actual job to do.

Zelda followed him, as she usually did. “If the Goddess asks, you’re allowed to tell.”

“You don’t even need guards, do you? If I wasn’t there, you’d have been fine.”

“Well, I couldn’t find it, so I did need you to stab it. And you’re a very good distraction.”

He stopped and raised an eyebrow in her direction.

“Oh, no, I meant you were good at distracting it! Not that you’re a distraction to me.”

One of his full-toothed smiles graced his face. “I didn’t take it that way, but now I know.”

Groaning, she regretted how often she talked, especially to him.

The path around the room was familiar to her by now, so as Link went to check under her desk, she waved her finger and pushed the chair out of the way for him.

He froze, and it was her turn to be triumphant.

Link gently placed a hand on the chair and glanced under the desk before pushing it back in, determined not to look at her, not to give her that satisfaction.

But she already had it.

[bbrandy2002]

Fearless

Chapter 2: Take My Hand And Drag Me Headfirst

Book: The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir

Pairing: Prince/King Liam x MC (Riley Brooks), Drake Walker x OC (Alyssa Devereaux)

Series Premise: Riley Brooks and Alyssa Devereaux became best friends as freshmen at Syracuse University, a borderline-sisterhood that lasts forever after. When Riley meets a handsome prince and is asked to compete for his hand in a mysterious faraway kingdom, she invites Alyssa along for moral support.

What the girls think will be a crazy temporary adventure becomes two sets of happily ever afters … with twice the shenanigans to show for it.

A/N: This series is written in loving collaboration between @bbrandy2002 and @burnsoslow​.

Series Warnings: Smut 🍋🍋, language, canon violence (gun violence, bombing, terrorism), drug use, probably more stuff as we think of it. By reading this series, you agree that you are at least 18 years old and are prepared to deal with adult themes.

Thank you @burnsoslow​ for the beta and putting some of your magical finishing touches where needed.

Chapter 3 will be written by @burnsoslow​ ,  I’m so excited for that!!

___________________________

Propped against the railing of the rear deck of a small tugboat in the middle of the Hudson River, the warmth of Liam’s arms wrapped around her from behind, Riley thought back to the words Daniel spoke to her earlier about fairytales and happy endings. Maybe it was the hope in his voice she needed to hear during a vulnerable moment to lift her spirits, but she was really starting to believe them herself.

The newly fired, down-on-her-luck Riley Brooks had left the Tapped Out Bar with a mysterious man that she plowed over during an escape from rats while taking out the garbage. A little while later, she accidentally attacked him again in the alleyway of her former employment with her sad little stick. They struck up a conversation, and through some awkward stalling on his part, he finally worked up the nerve to ask her out for a drink. 

Riley wasn’t someone who normally took off with random guys she just met to flit about the city, but there was just something about Liam that was different -- that was special. 

Call it intuition. An inclination. Instinct or inkling. Whatever it was, was a possibility. Of what? That remained to be seen. 

After talking to his friends about his plans, and at her behest, the pair headed west on foot until they reached a busy late-night cafe that overlooked the choppy waters of the New York harbor. Sitting on the open deck, moonlight cascading off the ripples of the sea, a light jazz tune playing through the outdoor speakers, they talked for over an hour about everything and nothing, while sipping coffee and plucking at a large cinnamon roll they shared. It was the most Riley had spoken in a long time. When you live with and are friends with the more outgoing Alyssa, you learn to appreciate the fine art of listening. She spoke about her dads, her friends, places she traveled to and what not. All very light, casual conversation. Liam mentioned he had family, his country of origin, how much he was enjoying New York, but never revealed too much.

Not wanting to sound too whiny and pathetic, she stuck with the positive things in her life; she surprised even herself that there were a lot more than she realized. But he captivated her in a real way that made it so easy. Liam laughed with her and made her feel interesting and personable; maybe even desired.

And as the night carried on and the patrons of the cafe dwindled down, a Miles Davis tune began to play: “Blue and Green.” A bright smile tugged on the corner of Liam’s lips as he pushed his chair back and rose from the table to offer his hand. “My lady.”

Riley looked around the deck to see if anyone else was dancing -- they weren’t -- but how could she say no? 

She didn’t want to say no.

Beside their little round table and under a string of hanging white pearly lights and garland, they slowly swayed together like it was the most natural thing in the world. It was chemistry in motion with every soft blare of the trumpet, rhythmic taps on the snare drum, and light pitter pats on a piano played in G major. The tempo was leisurely and elegant, creating the perfect ambience for the feelings that were stirring within them.

With her head resting snugly against his firm chest, the thrumming of his steadily-beating heart reverberating in her ear, Liam revealed, “I’m the Crown Prince of Cordonia, Riley.”

Never breaking their stride, Liam lifted one of her tiny arms in the air and twirled her around gracefully. Riley smiled up at him as they returned to formation; their hands intertwined between them. “And I’m one of the four horsemen of the Apocalypse.”

Liam laughed as they continued their gentle side-to-side movements. “I know it sounds crazy, but I’m not lying to you. Perhaps I should have been a little more upfront with you from the beginning, but I’m normally not allowed to go out without the Royal Guard.” He paused for a moment to lower her into a deep dip, sensually inhaling the perfumed scent around her decolletage, before pulling her back into his arms. “And I was only allowed out on the condition that I kept my identity a secret. But, just for one day … I wanted to be free.”

It was one of the most romantic nights Riley had ever experienced in her life, but as the music continued to play, their steps gliding in sync, she nuzzled her cheek against his firm body and responded, “You’re so full of shit.”

Liam pulled away, amused by her choice of words and disbelief. “After I told you all of that, you still think I’m lying?”

Riley shrugged. “I dunno.” She casually pulled out her chair under his watchful eye and sat down, crossing her legs. Lifting a coffee mug to her lips, she winced at its cold temperature, and the fact that she hated coffee. “So, I’m not really into the whole role-playing thing, but if you’re gonna be this ... Prince of Condomania, how about if I play the sultry villainess spy who comes to steal the treasures from your castle and you catch me in the act?” She batted her eyelashes and splayed her hands across her chest. “I will neva surrenda, Prince Liam. If you wont me, you’ll haf to take me right heya.” Riley animatedly flung her arms out and arched back over her chair.

Liam knit his brow. “What the hell kind of accent is that?”

Riley sat up and smiled proudly. “It’s Cajun. I have this friend and I really like how he talks; it’s so sexy. Do you think it sounded convincing at all? Maybe a little too nasally? You want me to try to do your accent next?”

With a grin, Liam shook his head and took the seat across from her. “You’re something else, you know that?”

She sighed. “That’s what they tell me.”

Reaching into his jacket pocket, Riley watched curiously as Liam pulled out his phone and began typing something on it. He held it out to her. “I want you to look at this, Cajun Villainess Spy. Tell me what you think?”

“Oh God, you’re gonna show me a dick pic, aren’t you?” Riley slammed her eyes shut as she reluctantly reached for his cell, but sort of peeked out one eye.  

“Eh, no. That’s never really been my style.” He gestured insistently for her to look at the screen as he sat back and crossed his arms. “I think you’ll find everything you want to know about me right there.”

It only took her a second to study the images and gloss over the text he pulled up, but a satisfied smirk formed on Liam’s charmed features while watching her eyes grow larger. Riley jumped up from her chair, the momentum causing it to tip over. “Why didn’t you tell me you were a real prince?” 

Liam guffawed, “I did!”

“No, you didn’t! You had I’m joking written all over your face. How was I supposed to know your serious face and your joke face look the same?” She tossed the phone back to him like it was molten iron scorching her palm. “I’d rather have the dick pic.” 

After picking up her tipped-over chair and getting settled again, she took a moment to just process the identity of the man she had spent the last couple of hours talking and dancing with. Her real-life Prince Charming. This incredibly sweet, hot guy sipping coffee in front of her was part of a royal family, and she was an unemployed everything. What on earth possessed him to want to spend time with the likes of her?  

She looked up from her fidgeting fingers that were picking at the green fabric covering her thighs and smiled softly at him. “I’m sorry I overreacted. It’s just …”

“A lot to learn about someone? No, no, I get it. I probably would have had the same reaction if I were you.”

“So ... what happens now?”

What happened next was what led them to the boat they were on for an impromptu midnight ride to see the Statue of Liberty.

Liam laid out the details of his situation: He was a prince visiting New York City with his friends who were throwing him a last-minute bachelor party. Riley listened attentively while he explained his upcoming social season: not knowing yet who he was going to marry, but that duty required him to take a wife by the end of the year. He had hoped while he was in the city to visit its most famous statue; however, his friends hadn’t planned for it. Riley heard the disappointment in his voice and it tugged at her heart.

It was definitely too late to catch one of the many tours that traveled to Ellis Island during the day, but Riley was determined to do what she could to make it happen for him. Part of her was motivated by the fact that she liked him a lot and enjoyed his company; he was charming and refined, different from anyone she’d ever met. The longer she got to spend with Liam and got to know him, the better. But there was also this other part that felt sorry for him. Riley could see the struggle in his eyes and the weight on his shoulders between what he wanted to do, and what his position forced his hand to do. In her mind it was clear that Liam was the kind of guy who got everything -- except what he wanted.

In some ways, she knew the feeling.

To Liam’s surprise, Riley assured him she would find a way for him to see that statue. So, while he paid the tab, her mind raced with how the hell she was going to pull this off. And just before the actual possibility of having to hijack a vessel began to fully take shape in her mind, she pulled out her phone in one last-ditch effort to not break the law. Riley knew no one who owned a boat, but there was one person in her life that seemingly had a connection to everyone in the damn city.

Riley bit at her fingernails as the phone rang, glancing over her shoulder once to watch Liam paying the cashier. “Come on, come on. Pick up. Pick up.”

“Heyyyy!”

“Alyssa,” Riley whispered in an urgent tone into the phone, unclear whether her friend would even hear her over the party music and raucous chatter that was blaring in the background. “I need your help with something.”

“Riiiiley!” she slurred. “My bestie. My sister from another parents. I love you soooo much. More than everyone in the whole wide ... something. Hey, guys! Riley’s on the phone; say hi to her!” 

“Wait, Lyss! No.”

A loud chorus of drunken greetings could be heard through the receiver as Alyssa held it up in the air.

“Alyssa!” Riley repeated in frustration while listening to her best friend start another conversation with a partygoer about the perfect symmetrical shape of the cheese cube she just ate. Apparently, it looked like a “tiny little house, for teeny, tiny little cheese people.”

Riley smacked her forehead. “Alyssa!” 

Liam returned from paying the bill, his hands stuffed in his pockets and bouncing on his heels. He raised his eyebrows at Riley as if asking eagerly whether she was ready to head out on this adventure she told him she would make possible. Riley smiled back and raised a finger, indicating she’d be ready in a moment. Panic started to set in as she cursed under her breath and continued to try to get her friend back on the call. “Lyss.”

“Riley,” Alyssa laughed. “You’re still on the phone? No way! Hey, guys! Riley’s still on the phone. Say ‘hey’ to her!”

“NOO! Please, Alyssa, I need your help.”

“Whatcha need, Ri? You know I’ll do aaaanything for you.”

“Ok, do you remember when you caught our dorm room on fire senior year cooking ramen noodles in the microwave, and all my stuff burned up?”

“That checks. Sure.”

“Well, it’s time to pay up on that favor you said you’d owe me.”

Somehow, the planets must have been aligned just right, because a very inebriated Alyssa comprehended Riley’s request enough to talk to Damien about it and have it actually make sense. Luckily, the private detective knew a guy who drove a tugboat for the Port Authority working the night shift and was more than willing to see what he could do for Alyssa’s best friend.

-----------

Riley felt Liam’s arms tighten around her waist as the Statue of Liberty came into view. She had seen the landmark more times than she could remember in her life; perhaps she had become so accustomed to it being there that she took for granted how it would affect someone seeing it for the first time. It wasn’t until she twisted around in his arms to view his reaction, to see this beacon of freedom reflecting in his mesmerized eyes, that it all made sense. Liam was a beautiful man with a beautiful soul; if anyone deserved this moment to reflect on what it truly meant to embrace the freedom he longed for, it was him.

“What are you thinking, Liam?” She broke the silence.

He shook his head in wonderment. “It’s magnificent, Riley. I’ve heard art has meaning because of what it makes the viewer feel. Whether it’s ink splatters on a canvas or on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, it only matters if it moves you.”

“And?” 

Liam let out a sigh of contentment and lowered his gaze to her. “And right now, looking at this view with you … I feel like … anything is possible.”

“I feel that way too.” She slowly nodded, finding herself lost in his eyes, his voice, his embrace. Nothing in this moment mattered to her anymore: the long stream of bad luck, the crappy job she just lost, her epic failures at relationships. They all seemed to just wistfully fly out into the ocean and bury themselves below its sandy bottom. 

Wrapped in each other's arms, surrounded by the salty sea air and a skyline full of hopes and dreams, Liam pulled her as close to himself as she would go, his other hand moving up to caress the side of her face. Both searched longingly into each other's eyes, waiting for the other to make that next big move. 

Feeling an awakening of courage and fire in the depths of her fluttering stomach, she threw all fears and caution to the wind. Riley grasped on to the lapels of Liam’s jacket and gently lowered him to her eagerly awaiting lips.

The kiss was tender and brief, but magical; it left her spellbound. Riley could swear she floated out of her body and traveled into the clouds that blanketed above them and enveloped her wholly.

Liam rested his forehead on Riley’s; his hands reached down to grasp hers and swing freely alongside them. “You’re full of surprises tonight, Riley.”

“Is that before or after I knocked you out earlier?”

He chucked, rubbing the bump on the back of his head. “Both times. I’m certainly not sorry about either, though. I’ll never forget this night … or you.”

If you have a concussion, you might. She smiled up at him, “Me either.”

As their boat rounded the island, Riley took one last glance back at the statue that now represented so much more in her mind. Her gaze traveled across the expanse of the gleaming torch, down the long arm of the statue, over to the dim lights shining through the glass within the crown. Something caught her attention -- an odd movement -- and she couldn’t help but squint real hard to make out the image that was quite small from her vantage point. She tilted her head, trying to figure out what the hell she was seeing before it finally became clearer to her. She let out a loud gasp. “Oh my God!”

From behind, Liam leaned down next to her face. “What’s wrong?” he asked curiously, trying to match his view with her line of sight. “What are you seeing?”

Riley pointed up. “I see ass cheeks!” she replied in disgust. “And not just any ass cheeks … big, gigantic ones smooshed right up against the window. There’s two people up there just going at it and … oh, no wait, she just got turned around. Yep, yep, those look like boobies now. Who does that kind of thing, having sex where anyone could just see? And in the Statue of Liberty, of all places?”

Letting out a forced cough then clearing his throat, Liam squeezed Riley’s shoulders several times and laughed awkwardly. “Yeah, I know. Sick freaks, huh?”

The pair watched the display for a second longer than they should have before turning to look at one another, blushing and smiling sheepishly. Riley only hoped she played off her disgust well enough that he didn’t realize she was a sick freak too.

Liam looked away, hoping the same.

---------

It was well past midnight.The Brooklyn streets were mostly bare, with only the occasional late-night dweller cruising the sidewalks or a yellow cab making its weekend rounds. Just a stone's throw across the bridge, the city that never slept, with its flashing lights and bustling tourist, lay in deep contrast to this quiet residential district that was only lit up at that hour by street lamps and halogen headlights.

Riley considered where she lived to be a fairly safe neighborhood. Crime and lawlessness weren’t unheard of, but it was rare for that area. Like many women of her young age, walking alone in the dark wasn’t something she usually set out to do unless she had no other choice. That’s why when Liam insisted he accompany her the few blocks from where they finished their excursion to see her home safely, she was more than willing to oblige him.

“This is my stop. Home sweet home.” Riley stopped at the bottom of the stairs that led to the entrance of her building and turned to Liam. She looked more gleeful than she actually was.

He glanced up at the plain red brick building. It was nothing special, but he made a mental note of the address numbers over its clear glass entryway. He knew it was unlikely he’d ever see her again, but on the off-chance, maybe someday if he was ever in the neighborhood … no, he thought … there’s no point in going there. “I see that ...it’s nice.”

Riley looked at him with a hopeful expression. “I know you said you had an early flight in the morning, but … if you’d like to come up …”

“I wish I could, Riley. Trust me, I want to more than you know; however, the limo will be here soon with my friends, and ...” he swept a strand of blowing hair from her face, memorizing her every feature. “... I don’t want to make this harder on either one of us.”

Nodding, Riley gave a half-smile. “I understand.”

They stared at one another for a moment, hoping to prolong the inevitable. “Come here, you.” Liam pulled her into him and wrapped his arms around her. ”I can never thank you enough for everything tonight, Riley. I’m so glad I ran into you. Well ... actually you ran into me.” Riley let out a soft laugh that made his heart skip a beat. “You were the best part of my trip, Riley. I mean it.”

Before they knew it, the limo pulled up alongside the sidewalk in front of Riley’s apartment. Both felt a sinking feeling, knowing this was the end, and embraced a little tighter as the squeak of the limo’s brakes dulled and the awaiting engine ran in the silent backdrop.

Riley drew in a breath, the heels of her shoes tapping one another. “I guess this is goodbye?”

Frowning, Liam’s palms moved up to her face and rested along her jawline. “I’m afraid it looks that way.” He leaned down and kissed her gently, her arms winding around the back of his neck to hold him there for as long as she possibly could.

Knowing if he didn’t end it there, it never would, Liam broke their kiss, stroking his hand through her hair and said, “Take care, Riley.”

She smiled back. “You too, Liam.”

Not wanting to leave until he was sure she made it inside safely, Liam watched from the sidewalk while Riley slowly made her way up the concrete steps, scouring through her bag as she did so. When she reached the top, she stepped in front of the locked door, frantically digging and shaking her bag in search of the keys to get in. 

“Everything okay up there?” Liam called up to her as she knelt down and started frantically tossing items from her purse, slamming them down next to her feet: wallet, cell phone, lip gloss, ink pens, breath mints, hand sanitizer, a half-eaten bag of skittles, a box cutter she didn’t know she had, a marshmallow bunny from Easter, Midol, tampons …

“Mother fuck,” she grumbled in frustration to herself before yelling back cheerfully, “Yes, just looking for my keys. They’re always at the bottom,” she laughed, trying to make light of it. 

“They’re in your hand, Riley,” she heard him point out when she finally gazed down into her hand and slowly opened her palm. Liam let out a laugh when he saw her face twist up, realizing she had them the entire time. 

“Get out of here. You said you didn’t want to make this harder.” Riley began stuffing everything back into her bag.

He continued to laugh as he threw his hands up and stepped away. “I’m going.”

As soon as she unlocked the door and walked inside to the lit-up entryway, she heard the limo pull away. Everything in her wanted to look back in hopes he’d stayed behind by some chance and was walking up those steps, approaching the door, wanting her to let him in. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath; the greatest guy she’d ever met was gone, and the only way to see him again would require a Google search. 

In her mind, though, she had made a prince’s dream come true. Maybe she wasn’t half bad after all.

In a huge way, Liam did the same for her. Too bad he would never know it.

___________

Riley opened the door and stepped inside her dark apartment, closing it behind her. After such a long day, feeling a little disheartened, all she wanted to do was slip into some comfy night clothes, wash her face, brush her teeth and crash until next week. Taking two steps away from the door, her foot caught on something and she went flying forward, landing with a hard thud to the floor. 

It felt like the wind had been knocked right out of her chest when she hit the ground. “Son-of-a--?” She pushed herself up on her knees, shook out her sore hands, then reached over to flip the light switch on.

“Alyssa?” Riley whispered.

Lying on the ground, curled into a peaceful little ball, was her roommate, still in the same clothes she last saw her in, hands pressed together and tucked under her cheek like a sleeping cherub. Riley crawled over to Alyssa, swept her hair out of her face, and checked for breathing. The strong smell of alcohol emanated from her tiny sighs -- Alyssa wasn’t a heavy drinker. 

Concerned, Riley jiggled her arm. “Sweetie, are you okay?”

An angelic murmur was the only answer to her question.

Not wanting to leave her on the floor, Riley stood up and bent down, her hands grasping both of Alyssa’s wrists before she pulled her down their hallway as gently as she could and stepped into her best friend's bedroom. 

Huffing out of breath, she made it next to Alyssa’s bed. Riley crouched down and tried to lift her onto the mattress, but Alyssa was dead weight. Maybe she had no other choice but to leave her there. 

Riley pulled a blanket and pillow from the bed, rolled Alyssa to her side, and got her as comfortable as she could. After placing a wastebasket next to her friend and leaving a bottled water on the night table, she patted her back. “I have so many things to tell you in the morning, Lyss. You’d be so proud of me.” Riley swallowed down the emotions that had threatened to escape since she realized Liam had left for good. Her voice broken and feeble, she continued, “I took that risk. I was fearless, just like you told me to be. It didn’t work out the way I had hoped, but …” she sniffled through a small smile, blinking back tears. “... I have no regrets.”

Riley rose to her feet and headed for the door when she heard a faint voice call out from behind that stopped her in her tracks. “Ri?”

She turned her head. “Hmm?”

“I’m always proud of you.”

Switching the light off, Riley smiled back at her friend, who still appeared to be resting in a calm slumber. “I know. Good night, bestie.”

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

The next morning, just as the sun had peeked from behind the clouds and the air was fresh with newness and warmth, Riley woke. Today would differ from every day before. She didn’t want to lie in bed all day and dwell on what-might-have-beens or how her life was a dead end to nowhere. She was determined she wanted something more out of it -- whatever that may be.

Slipping on a pair of trainers, running tights and a long sleeve shirt, she pulled her hair up in a high ponytail and headed out.

She made it two blocks before collapsing on a bench, gasping for air, and flipping off a kid on a bike who was laughing and taunting her.

After five more blocks of running and taking a break at nearly every bench or stoop along the way -- that same jerky kid still deriding her as he circled around each block -- Riley made her way back to her building, hunched over and sweaty. She didn’t jog as far as she’d liked to, but she made the effort, for which she was pleased with herself. 

It also didn’t hurt that there was a mouthy kid out there somewhere with two flat bicycle tires, crying to his mom, that was giving her a new boost of life. 

Reaching for the door of her building, she chuckled to herself thinking about his pouty little face -- haha, sucks to be you, kid -- when someone yelled out her name.

“Shit,” she panicked, thinking the boy’s parents had found her and had come to beat her ass. Riley fumbled with her keys, trying to make a quick getaway inside.

“Hey, Riley! Stop.” The voice sounded oddly familiar, and curiosity couldn’t stop her from whipping her head around to take a quick peek. She instantly recognized the man who was racing up the stairs towards her, from the bar. He was one of the guys from Liam’s party last night who helped after the collision. 

Pulling the keys from the lock and gripping the pepper spray attached to them, she jumped back when he suddenly hopped up next to her like a fireball of energy.

“Riley. I’m so glad I caught up with you. I’m Maxwell -- we met last night -- and this is Rashad.” He pointed over his shoulder. The man gave a simple nod in return. “He was there, too.”

Her brows knit in confusion. “Oookay. You both aren’t here by chance upset over a couple of slashed bike tires, are you? Because that wasn’t me. I saw who did it, though, if you need a witness statement.” Riley’s eyes shifted around, looking for a person to match her fake would-be description.

Maxwell shook his head with a chuckle and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, her gaze falling to it. “Nah, I came to talk to you about Liam. You’re all he could talk about when he got back to the hotel last night. He went on and on about the cafe, and the trip to the Statue of Liberty, and how beautiful you are ...”

“He -- he did?” She was pleasantly surprised, her heart bursting at his words.

“Yeah. We’re heading back to Cordonia so Liam can find someone to marry and all that jazz. But before I go, I wanted to officially extend to you an invitation to join us for the festivities in Cordonia. Sooo … is there somewhere we can talk?”

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

“You want me to do what?” Riley jumped up from the sofa, her eyes wide and mouth gaping as she gawked back at Maxwell, who was sitting at the far end. Her trembling hand shot to her forehead before she paced back and forth. “Let me get this straight. You want to sponsor me to compete to marry a man I just met last night? And not just any man, a prince. You’re going to fly me halfway across the world -- You could be the Official Royal Serial Killer, for all I know -- then prance me around like some beauty pageant contestant?  And all I have to do is say ‘yes to the dress’ that you can’t afford? Just hop right on a plane with two strange men, huh? How naïve do I look to you?” Riley paused for a second. “Don’t answer that.”

“I’m not doing it for you. I saw how Liam looked at you last night at the bar, and later when he returned from your date. I’ve never seen him that happy before. Honestly, I don’t want him to lose that. We’re kinda crunched for time, though. I’ve got a plane leaving in an hour.”

“An hour?” Riley questioned as she plopped down on the coffee table, her back to Maxwell and the guy in the chair across the room who hadn’t said a word the whole time. It was a once-in-a-lifetime offer to travel somewhere new and exciting and literally rub elbows with royalty. To live out that fairytale that most girls could only dream of. But more importantly, it was a way to see Liam again, and she wanted to so badly … if Maxwell was indeed telling the truth. 

Even if nothing came of it, there was no job tying her down anymore. Her dad had just gotten married to her stepfather and stayed busy as a chef for Beyonce and Jay-Z, so he would be fine, and she had enough money in savings to pay her portion of the rent while she was gone and expenses for her travels. There was just one thing she would insist on.

Riley spun around on the table, her eyes flashing between the two men. “I will do this -- on one condition.”

Maxwell clapped his hands excitedly. “Yes! Just name it and it’s yours.”

“Max.” Rashad leaned forward in his chair, his elbows pressed into his knees. “You don’t even know what she wants yet.”

“I’m getting to that.” Maxwell turned to her with an arched brow. “Okay, Riley. What is your condition?”

She hadn’t even asked Alyssa yet, but Riley steepled her fingers and volunteered her, anyway. “My roommate has to go with me.”

“No problemo.”

“What -- Really?”

“Sure. She can ride the jet back with us and I’ll even help her find a good hotel room nearby so you two can visit … if you’re able to find time in between all the competitions, balls, traveling, lessons, and what not. It’ll be great!”

Riley shook her head adamantly, not willing to budge on the issue. “No! I want Alyssa there for all of those things. If I even have the slightest chance of being a serious contender and a fully functioning human being, I need someone there to make sure I don’t do anything stupid … and I will … a lot.  Plus, she’s my best friend, and I’m not doing this without her.”

Feeling the pressure to relent and the seconds ticking away until takeoff, Maxwell’s shoulders slumped, taking in Riley’s pleading expression. “I -- I don’t know what to do. Your friend would have to be sponsored also in order to stay with you. She would have to be a suitor and compete for Liam’s hand just like you and all the other ladies, and there can only be one sponsee for each noble house. If you’re our pick, then she would need to have someone of nobility who doesn’t have a suitor yet and knows it’s all a ... ruse …” he trailed off, grinning impishly, as an idea suddenly popped into his head. Maxwell’s gaze swept across the room and landed on his friend, Rashad, who had a deer-in-the-headlights look, knowing exactly what he was getting at.

“Oh no. Leave me out of this,” he insisted while waving his hands back and forth. “This is all on you, Maxwell.”

“No, don’t say that yet.” Riley sprang to her feet and grabbed a picture frame from a nearby table, falling to her knees in front of Rashad to beg. “This is Alyssa.” She cheerfully pointed her friend out in the picture, delighted when the Lord of Domvallier’s eyes grew and seemed more than intrigued. “She’s not only beautiful, charming, and supportive, but she’s the smartest person I know. Everyone just loves her. And even though she won’t want to win because of me, she’ll represent your house with the greatest of integrity and propriety. I swear it.” 

“It’s for Liam,” Maxwell interjected, wagging his brows. “Imagine how grateful he’ll be when he finds out your part in making this happen for him.”`

Rashad let out a heavy groan. “Max, you know I would do anything for a friend -- especially Liam -- but it’s not that simple. There’s a reason why Domvallier opted not to have a suitor join this season: I have business dealings in California that coincide with some of the competitions. And with Mother’s and Father’s health in decline, I couldn’t possibly burden them with traveling and overseeing a suitor. It just wouldn’t work.”

Riley turned to Maxwell. “Well … couldn’t she just hang out with us most of the time? It’s not like she’d be in it to win it, anyway.”

“I don’t see why not.” Maxwell shrugged. “We all travel and stay together for the most part anyway.” He glanced over at Rashad, who could do nothing but stare at the two of them bouncing like eager children with big cheshire grins, while he literally decided the fate of a woman who had no idea she had just been volunteered to “pretend” compete for the hand of a prince the entire summer, in another country, and had to board a plane in just under an hour.

Rashad sighed and took the photo from Riley’s hand, giving it a quick glance. He was definitely smitten by the bright, blue-eyed woman with the big dimpled smile and wouldn’t mind getting to know her better, particularly if she was everything described to him. “I should have gone with Drake back to the plane.” He shook his head and handed the photo back to Riley. “Can’t believe I’m doing this, but --” 

Before he even finished his thought, Maxwell and Riley leaped to their feet to celebrate, whooping and howling around him, ruffling his jet black hair, hugging, and clapping him several times on the chest.

“What’s going on?”

The three of them whipped their heads around at the raspy-sounding voice that caught their attentions.

“Lyss!” Riley’s eyes lit up at the sight of her best friend standing there; she couldn’t wait to share all the good news with her. Maxwell, and particularly Rashad’s, jaws dropped at the sight before them. They both did a double take of the picture in the frame and then back to the petite brunette who wore a rumpled party dress, was missing one flat shoe, and sported smudged mascara under her sunken eyes and hair flying in every direction.

Riley moved over to Alyssa, placing a gentle hand on her arm with a smile. “Alyssa. These gentlemen are from Cordonia -- It’s somewhere you need a plane ride for. This is Lord Maxwell Beaumont.” She gestured and received a wave back. “And this is Lord Rashad of Doberman Pinscher,” she stated in a posh accent.

“Domvallier,” he corrected, stunned and still unable to take his eyes off his new suitor.

“Lords?” she questioned in a feeble tone; Riley nodded back at her.

Alyssa smiled at the two strangers, then lowered her head and curtsied like she was wearing a ball gown before them. “How do you do? Welcome to House Devereaux-Brooks. It’s so kind of you to stop by and make our acquaintances. Please do make yourselves at home.” She straightened back up and immediately turned to Riley. “I’m dying. Where’s the Advil?”

Riley insisted Alyssa have a seat while she retrieved the Advil and a glass of water for her. Feeling that was a fair deal, Alyssa stumbled over to the couch, accidentally stepping on Maxwell, who held onto her arms and helped her the rest of the way. When she was seated, she leaned forward, rubbing soothing circles around her temples, willing the room to stop spinning. Riley shuffled back with two pills and a cool bottle of water, and handed them to Alyssa, who hastily threw back and chugged nearly the entire thing. She couldn’t remember a time when she felt so thirsty.

No one knew really how to respond just yet. Rashad conferred in hushed tones with Maxwell, as Alyssa kept her eyes closed for a moment, taking in slow, deep breaths. Everything from head to toe ached and throbbed. 

Finally, she smacked her still-dry mouth and announced, “Okay, I’m going back to bed. Goodnight, everyone. It was so nice to meet you all.” She moved to the edge of the sofa when Riley pressed lightly on her shoulders, holding her back.

“Wait a minute, Lyss. I have something I want to talk to you about.”

Lowering the shades in the living room to block the sun from Alyssa’s sensitive eyes, Riley began to explain how she met Liam at the bar last night and was asked to go out for a drink with him. Alyssa nodded her head slowly as she followed along, somewhat remembering their phone conversation about the date, how he was a prince, and the Statue of Liberty -- Lyss was proud of herself for being a part of making that happen. The next of their conversation continued on to Liam returning to his country for the social season in which he was expected to find someone to marry by the end of the summer. “I’m so sorry he had to leave, but what does any of this have to do with you, Ri?” 

Riley glanced over her shoulder. “That’s where these two guys come in.”

Alyssa followed her friend’s gaze then shook her head. “I’m not following.”

“Maxwell wants to sponsor me to travel to Cordonia to compete for Liam. And we leave in an hour. Yay!” She raised her arms in a V, trying to garner excitement from her roommate, knowing she’d probably freak out.

And she did. “YOU CAN’T GO TO A FOREIGN COUNTRY! FOR ALL YOU KNOW THESE GUYS ARE SERIAL KILLERS OR SEX TRAFFICKERS!” Alyssa looked at Rashad and smiled shyly. “Not you, of course.” She then eyed Maxwell. “Probably him.”

“I know, I know. But that’s kinda, sorta where you come in.” Riley’s eyes danced around the room while tugging on the hem of her shirt.

“What do you mean?”

Maxwell checked the time on his phone as Riley laid out the details, point by point, to her friend, who guzzled the last bit of her water as she found out she had basically been enlisted into becoming a suitor as well. Alyssa spit out her water. “WHAT?”

Rashad sighed and looked for paper towels to dry off his lap.

Taking in Alyssa’s bug-eyed stare, Riley scrambled to make the whole situation sound more appealing to her.

“There’s skiing --”

“You know I can’t ski.”

“There’s ice skating --”

“Are you trying to break both of my ankles at the same time?”

“There’s horseback riding --”

“Oh, God, horses?”

“And beaches.”

Alyssa started to complain before stopping herself. “Okay, that doesn’t sound so bad. But still, Ri --”

“Please, Alyssa,” Riley pleaded, her still-small voice just above a whisper. She sat down on the coffee table again, across from her friend, eyes glassy. “I would never ask you to do something so big for me. But, I want you there … I need you there. This … this is the guy, Lyss. He’s the one.”

Seeing the hopeful expression staring back at her, Alyssa’s heart sank. She set aside the empty bottle and leaned forward, placing a compassionate hand on Riley’s. “First of all, you don’t need me. You’re more than capable of doing this on your own. I mean, give yourself a little credit … you landed a prince.” They both let out soft laughs before she continued. “But, secondly, you know I’m a hopeless romantic. So if this is the only way you’ll go … count me in.”

As the two of them hugged and Riley expressed her fervent thanks, Maxwell cleared his throat and interrupted their happy moment. The girls turned to him as he stated, “I hate to break all of this up -- I really do. This is like the totally awesome stuff I live for -- but we’re pressed for time now. Our friend Drake is already on the plane waiting and isn’t above leaving without us.”

“Oh good. Doesn’t he sound like a little ray of sunshine?” Alyssa scoffed, causing Riley to snicker and drawing half a smirk from Rashad.

The guys headed down to the limo while the girls rummaged through their rooms, stuffing as many of their things as they could possibly fit into suitcases and bags. After taking turns getting quick showers, being vigilant of the time, they double checked to make sure they had what they needed for an extended trip, planning to  call friends and family on the drive to the airport to let them know where they would be.

Alyssa slipped on a pair of sunglasses as she stepped into the hallway, while Riley locked the door to their apartment behind them. “And you’re sure this Liam is worth all this?”

Riley regarded her thoughtfully before letting out a contented sigh, “Yeah. He’s worth it.”

Alyssa shrugged and pushed the sunglasses higher on her nose. “Well, if we don’t die, we’ll have a hell of a story to tell.”

-----------

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[queenofbaws]

Well from one nemesis to another, how about you answer 1, 15, and 30 for me before I send you a video of me pouring a whole bottle of root beer down the drain where it belongs?

lisa i stg if i catch you wasting root beer the severity of this war is going to ratchet up at LEAST three notches. root beer should be PRIZED and LOVED and treated like a BOON FROM THE HEAVENS

anyway

1. Which of your fics would you keep the basic plot of but rewrite completely? man, i hope this doesn't come across as a cop-out because it's NOT, but a million years ago, probably in...god, '09, i had a kingdom hearts fic called something like aptitude (shortened to SLAP, obvs XD) and it was all about ansem's apprentices and the scheming that happened there/the downfall of radiant garden. it was one of my first multi-chaps, and a bit of a monster in its own right...and i actually HAD a reboot totally planned! outlined and everything, mostly because i revisited it in like...2015 and OOFA DOOFA my writing had changed by then lmao. unfort i've fallen out of kingdom hearts since, but i'll always fondly remember SLAP and the rewrite i very nearly did.

(spoiler: it was gonna be. so much more horror. lmfao.)

15. What’s your favourite plotless fic you have written? T_T pillow talk. this one has a special, special, SPECIAL place in my heart, not just because it was the first REAL piece i wrote for dragon age despite being in the fandom for a hot minute, but also because it's very much a "canon" moment between hawke and varric in my hawke's story, and a pretty fundamental one at that sooOOOOOO...

30. Describe a fic that almost happened, but then it didn’t. honestly? honestly??????????? the all-thats, lmfao. i did, for a while, think i was going to write a partner piece to t(a) that would be the other side to the story - matt, mike, emily, and jess dealing with the aftermath of what happened to hannah and beth. i gave this the MOST thought around the time chris and ashley went to prom, where i have ashley run into jess in the middle of a vulnerable moment. as t(a) kept going, though, and i really, REALLY decided where i wanted to take the story, eh the idea sort of tapered off. i still toy with it occasionally, but if i ever did write it, it would be much, much shorter and not nearly the beast t(a) became lmfao

writing asks!!!

[davidmann95]

So RWBY/Justice League is apparently a crossover that's actually going to happen. Of the little we know right now, how do you think that's going to pan out?

Anonymous said: Those questions about Superman and Batman in RWBY seem prescient, because I'm hearing that an official crossover is in the works

Anonymous said: Um, so there's a legit Justice League/RWBY crossover coming

Anonymous said: So, that official DC/RWBY crossover, huh?

Anonymous said: So, how about that DC/RWBY cross, eh?

Anonymous said: No more speculating how Superman would fit into RWBY when DC themselves are providing their own answer XD

The immediate thing that leaps out beyond the Kingdom Hearts* level of utterly out of nowhere berserk this premise is: while the RWBY comic had a couple minor sequel hooks, and I don’t know how it did in its original digital chapters or in trade, as a monthly periodical it was selling poorly enough that DC didn’t bother to print its last physical issue after the return from the Coronavirus shutdown, and while I thought it was great a lot of fans complained about its art and characterization throughout. I hoped for that sequel, sure, but I wasn’t expecting the book to be regarded internally as anything but a sales failure, nevermind not only continuing it but tripling down in the most extreme and bizarrely specific way possible that’s neither intuitive (unless you have special interests like me) nor surface-level ridiculous enough like Batman/Elmer Fudd that people will buy it just to see how it works. I don’t understand why this comic is happening when no one but me wanted this.

(* The Kingdom Hearts comparison is apt because they were similarly close to the top of things I’d love to see cross over with the DCU that would obviously never, ever happen because that’s too precise and random a combination of my interests. Even if this is legally possible where that isn’t, that would still be conceptually simpler.)

I was asked a couple times in the past about how Superman or Batman could make sense in RWBY’s setting, and it turns out I was closer with the latter than the former - that rather than a dimension-hopping traditional crossover, this is reverse-engineering what the assorted members of the League would look like if they had always been part of Remnant ala JLA/Planetary, some of the old DC/Marvel crossovers, or the more recent Batman/The Shadow. Which actually fits really well with the series regularly evoking assorted fairy tales and mythologies with their characters; this bunch is just one more set to be added. Though that raises several more thoughts and questions:

* The solicit refers to them as Clark Kent, Bruce Wayne, and Diana Prince, but will they actually be referred to as such in the story, and will people comment on them not fitting with the color-based naming conventions of that world? Or will they be renamed and evoke their sources purely through iconography, ala Ruby not literally being Little Red Riding Hood?

* How much will the origins of the assorted characters be changed? Batman, Cyborg, and Aquaman would all make perfect sense within the ‘rules’ of the setting with few major alterations, but will Superman still be from Krypton and Green Lantern a space ranger, or will they simply be ordinary humans with thematically reminiscent backstories and Semblances/weapons that evoke the classic powers? I think the latter could work, but I imagine the former is more likely (even if Bennett might keep it vague on some of the details to preserve the aura of mystique and avoid changing the shape of the world too radically) simply because everyone’s surely aware that fans would complain about being ‘ripped off’ for getting the characters ‘in name only’ otherwise.

* Speaking of changes to fit the setting, between being a Faunus and the apparent low-tech traditional armor look of his suit, is Bruce Wayne in here not operating from a position of wealth? You’d just think as a given the Wayne family would be easily plopped in as business rivals to the Schnees and Alfred would be on a first name basis with Klein, but it seems Bennett might have something very different in mind. Also, little disappointing he simply has a katana rather than those collapsible batarangs that turn into swords that Ellis always gave him which would fit perfectly here. And, as so many have already asked: how miserable is he every second of every day in a world where everything is also a gun. At least this isn’t a universe where anyone’s gonna think he’s irresponsible for training teenage sidekicks.

* And if we’re going into individual characters: RWBY Barry Allen is adorable, what the hell. He just looks so dopey and hapless, I sure hope he doesn’t ever have to die to stop the Anti-Monitor. We’re definitely getting a meeting with Harriet that retcons in that he’s the other person with a speed Semblance she mentioned running into, and if he’s tapping into the Speed Force then the jokes that that’s what Harriet does are probably gonna become at least a little bit canon.

* Are the Themyscirans magic, given all magic has a very important common root in this world?

* I don’t think there’s a dud redesign in the bunch? These are all really inspired in their own ways, which is good because unlikely as it seems this is I believe the first time we’ve really gotten any sort of official interpretation of “here’s what the DCU would look like as a Shonen”. Go ahead and say the hell with it and make it Earth 28, I’ve thought before making that an anime Earth would fit with the map.

(By Ag_Nonsuch)

* Bunch of obvious ways these characters can play off of each other: Ruby is paralleled with Wonder Woman on the cover, and I’m curious how Bennett will play that, but she makes most sense next to Flash, a super-fast fan made good, or Superman, a character she so deeply if unintentionally evokes on so many levels I felt I had to make clear when describing her that I didn’t solely appreciate her as a psuedo-Superman analogue. Weiss makes sense up against Batman either as a wealthy heir or a Faunus who’s likely faced his share of pain from the Schees who either way are cold perfectionists defined by inner pain stemming from their families, or Wonder Woman/Aquaman as fellow ‘royalty’. Yang is paralleled with Superman on the cover and that makes sense with the two country bruisers with issues regarding their lost parents, though she’d also make sense with Aquaman as the ‘temperamental’ members a lot of the time of their respective teams, or Cyborg as they both deal with their relationships with their bodies after requiring prosthesis. And Blake pretty much has her pick: like Superman she uses an article of clothing to ‘pass’ and shares the commitment to justice, she and Batman are dark children of privilege (or not in this case, though in this world they’re both Faunus), she and Wonder Woman both left the island homes where their people were safe to try and make the rest of the world better, she and Aquaman are both Faunus royalty, and Green Lantern is about overcoming great fear and in Jessica Cruz’s case specifically about the guilt of running away.

* Will this be entirely flashbacks to the pre-series/Beacon years, or will those be flashbacks set from a ‘present’, and if so when? What happened between the siege of Haven and the train setting off for Argus is the most loosely-defined period in the story and is right on the heels of the end of the original RWBY mini, so I’d imagine it fitting here. And given they apparently join together “to take on a force unlike anything they've seen before” rather than purely the character work of that previous book, what might that be?

* Hey, superhero comics/superpowers as an idea already exist in this universe, will that come up?

* If we can get one single scene in this and it’s going with a “yes they’re still aliens and magic and whatnot” premise I want Clark, who hasn’t thought of being Superman yet and therefore is still at least somewhat hiding his powers, being wracked with guilt over not pursuing becoming a Huntsman and therefore not being there at the Fall of Beacon. Which is a ridiculous thing to take the blame for, but of course he would, he’s Clark, culminating in trying to apologize to JNR for Pyrrha dying he feels in part because he was a coward (when they don’t even have the faintest concept for why he would think he should have been there or could have done anything).

* Once all’s said and done, how is their presence in the world justified as not being a factor in the series proper? It’s simple if they’re ‘ordinary’ analogues who can go off to quietly have adventures elsewhere, but if not then some of them either have to be shuffled off stage or presumably left with their stories incomplete, with a little afterward of “and they went on to be the greatest heroes of all...later, after the scope of team RWBY’s main adventures so that we never have to directly address them again” to avoid them becoming unavoidable major factors in the war against Salem.

In the end, will it be DC’s best comic? No, though I imagine one of their better ones this year. Will it be among the ones I look forward to most each month? Right up there with Yang and Reis’s Batman/Superman baby, this is a miracle freak of fate and I’m gonna appreciate the universe bending over backwards to make entertainment for me and me alone while it lasts. Given I finally checked out RWBY in the first place because I was curious about Bennett’s original comic, this is a heck of a full-circle moment.

[jonsa-creatives]

Fic Recs, sorry for the wall of text in advance, I was in the mood 😁

you are my sun, my moon (and all of my stars) by Goodforthesoul

It's an East of the Sun and West of the Moon retelling set in Westeros, and seamlessly mixing canon elements in it. I know the fairy tale, I'm still at the edge of my seat reading, nursing my broken heart, waiting the HEA for my babies.

ever fallen in love (on national TV)? by ganymede_elegy

Bachelor AU, I've never seen the show, I'm like *just here for Jonsa* but as every other work with this author it's really good. Reading Sansa's pov is so entertaining, even if I had to put my kindle down to take a breath bc omg the second-hand embarrassment, it's that vivid, that alive, that good.

Find me in the firelight by Blue_Stockings

Ok this fic needs to be recced, idt the author is on tumblr so it is less noticed. This is unlike any canon au I've read. It changes things from the very beginning, the characters and circumstances they are in are different from the actual series (which is why I could accept Hound and Tyrion being "good", generally that widespread misconception bugs me to no end, it's a squick of mine I dropped fics for less, but this is a whole other world, so eh okay -just a warning for others like me) I love seeing how different our perception of Ned would be if he had lived longer and we actually got to see him rule and deal with his kingdom's and his children's problems. I love that Jon comes across more realistic in this, his bastard resentment is full-on. Jon and Sansa leaving home at a very young age and returning a much more mature people, being at odds with their family, and getting closer because they are the only ones who understand one another is just *chef's kiss*. I mean there is also a plot, like Ned actively fighting against Wildlings, North not accepting them, destability of North/Ned not being universally loved in the North, no one incl Ned not believing in Others, Jon having to take matters into her own hands, due to Sansa's situation Joffrey/Arya betrothal, seeing an older teenager Arya still nursing her jealousies etc. Anyone who likes canon aus should give this one a try.

The Outside series by Amymel86

First of all it's an awesome au. There are so few post-apocalyptic settings out there, but this one has its own flavor because JON!! The clueless, fish out of water Jon is so precious. Even when things are intense, I kept reading it with a silly smile on my face. Hope there'll be more of it. (And thank you for this great series!)

Also, Sansa's New Friend by Amymel86 It's a tiny little fic, but it's another awesome au idea, and Jon again is so precious.

And a blanket rec for vivilove's recent wips, but you and everybody else are already probably reading them 😂special mention to Rickon's Tales tho ❤️ I love when Rickon lives in fics and love reading his POV.

These are great, anon, please don’t apologise! thank you!

you are my sun, my moon (and all my stars) - by Goodforthesoul (not sure if they are on tumblr, please tag them if you know they are!)

ever fallen in love (on national tv)? by @cellsshapedlikestars

find me in the firelight by Blue_Stockings

The Outside and Sansa’s New Friend by me (thank you anon!)

Rickon’s Tales by @vivilove-jonsa

[ladyfawkes]

FINALLY UPDATED after approximately 100000 years. xD

Tangled Just Before Ever After

Words: 4730

Chapters: 2/?

Overall Summary:

Have you ever wondered what happened to Rapunzel and Eugene immediately following their first kiss in the Tower?

How they explained to one another the ways they discovered the depth of Gothel's evilness and duplicity?

How they managed to convince the Captain of the Guard that Flynn Rider was suddenly no longer a threat?

“Look at this!” Rapunzel exclaimed, surprised, as she traced out an invisible line across his palm. “There’s some of those magicky healing sparks left on your hand.” The young woman pulled back her own hand so he could see and sure enough, Eugene spied some faint twinkling beneath the very top layer of his skin. “Whaddyaknow?” he shrugged. “Huh.” A thought occurred to him and Eugene wondered if the glittery effect was now permanent. He surmised that it shouldn’t be and that it’d wear off soon enough...hopefully.

Chapter Two: The Lock-Picking Frog

Eugene and Rapunzel sat down together on one of the lower steps of the Tower’s inner staircase. She took his left hand in her lap, turned it palm upwards, and said, “Wait a minute….” brought up the same hand closer to her face and peered at it quizzically.

“I wonder…..” Rapunzel quickly let go his hand and reached across Eugene’s waist, her own left hand now hovering over the rips in his doublet and shirt where Gothel’s dagger had pierced him. And although she blushed a very lovely shade of pink upon asking him, the princess asked, “May I?” while pointing to his right flank.

And Eugene couldn’t mask his curiosity; his eyebrows arose right along with his elbows as he gave Rapunzel better access to his midsection. Far be it from him to stop the beautifullest young woman of his dreams from unfastening his doublet untucking his shirt for him. And although Eugene politely looked elsewhere partly for her sake, and partly for fear he might lose his gallant resolve…. He still very much wanted to say something cheeky or pithy or romantic or --

“Looks like my theory is correct,” reported Rapunzel. “Hmm?” Eugene was bewildered and his brow furrowed. “Theory?” he echoed, not entirely able to hide his disappointment at the aloofness of her reply. This wasn’t what he’d expected from this interaction at all. Eugene supposed he should’ve known better.

“Uhmmm,” said Rapunzel, suddenly shy again, “Well, I had guessed that the places on your body where you’ve been wounded the worst and most recently would therefore most likely possess some residual magic.” She sat back up and pointed toward his torso, “Looks like I was correct.”

And Eugene raised his shirt to look down at the place where the mortal wound once was, glimpsing for himself the same shimmering phenom of which Rapunzel spoke. That particular sparkling penetrated far deeper into his flank than what appeared near the surface of his palm, however.

Rapunzel kissed the inside of her hand and gently caressed the healed area on Eugene's side with those same fingertips. It was a gesture so pure and tender that again he found his heart melting with just how gentle she was with him -- the hardened criminal. Because this particular sensation…..what he felt now, what he’d felt when Rapunzel was tracing and kissing every inch of his face, and especially when Rapunzel had initially and carefully healed the palm of his hand two days before….it was so fantastic and new. And what Eugene could not have known then is that he was positively starving for it. He soaked up every drop of her kindness as if she were the sole oasis in his desert of loneliness. It’s why the young man knew he couldn’t let her walk away from him even after their special night of lanterns had concluded.

For Rapunzel hadn’t merely healed his largest mortal wound with her tears or the slicing through his palm with her hair. Without disdain or mockery or any form of guile, this unassuming young woman was healing parts of Eugene that he hadn’t even realized were chronically aching and long ago flayed raw in the first place. He had become numb and oblivious to all of it. Yet this impossibly kind and loving young soul was offering unconditional acceptance to Flynn Rider, the misunderstood career criminal whom everyone in all the seven kingdoms (and beyond) had come to loathe. Since the moment he met her, Rapunzel’s mere presence had become like sweet salve for his bruised soul. Even if it took Eugene the rest of his life, he vowed to himself that he would strive to be worthy of his dearest Rapunzel.

Eugene carefully gathered up Rapunzel under his arm and she leaned into him as they embraced again. Rapunzel was….almost impossibly genuine. Is this what real love has always felt like??, he mused. There’d been times Eugene had experienced such deep sadness and devastation in his life that it felt like his heart would certainly break. In fact, he had experienced that exact emotion as recently as that very morning during his imprisonment….. And it wasn’t because he feared dying…..it’s because he was all but certain he’d never see Rapunzel again. Never get to rescue her from wherever the Stabbingtons had gone off with her.

Prior to meeting Rapunzel, Eugene hadn’t ever experienced so much love and peace and contentment, it seemed as if his heart might burst from inability to contain itself. Once again, he appeared to have dozed off with Rapunzel squished up against him. Eugene yawned tiredly, internally berating himself and wondering why on earth he was so exhausted…. Until realization finally dawned that it had been over 24 hours since either he or Rapunzel had been able to get any sleep or rest whatsoever. It appeared to have finally caught up to them now that the worst of the danger had passed.

“So...how did you figure it all out?” Rapunzel asked softly, still holding him close with her head nestled against his chest. “It had to be pretty early on. Especially considering our entire first discussion regarding ‘backstory’....” And Eugene chuckled.

“You’re right, you’re right,” he replied. “I had definitely begun to suspect something was up by the time we were running through that underground escape system. There were just too many coincidences. A few being that: a.) it was the 18th year of Corona’s lantern festival and you just happened to be turning 18; b.) magicalness notwithstanding nobody else in the whole world had hair like yours -- its length and tensile strength belied its beaming gossamer beauty; c.) I’ve seen children -- even young adults -- utterly terrified of their parents, and for good reason; while I originally thought it was just a figure of speech when you said you “never left the tower”, I came to know you were being quite literal...therefore d.) you had further cemented my belief that you are Corona’s princess when you shared with me the ways in which your magical hair worked.

Suddenly, some insistent squeaking noises in front of them on the floor broke into the conversation. Eugene’s head whipped toward his right and looked down.

“Well, hullo there, Li’l Froggy,” he greeted Pascal warmly. This caused Pascal to glance over at Rapunzel with a wry look as he sighed long-sufferingly. “Yup. I think you’re stuck with it now, Pascal,” Rapunzel agreed. Pascal held out his claws heavenward, shrugged, and then hopped up on Eugene’s free wrist and scaled up toward his left shoulder, around his neck, finally perching on Eugene’s right shoulder. He squeaked something lengthy to Eugene. And Eugene, who wasn’t yet fully versed in Pascallese, had to ask Rapunzel to interpret.

“First of all,” Rapunzel began, “he says that ‘Frog’ is a rather insulting nickname but he’ll cut you some slack, being that you died, came back, and fainted all in the past 30 minutes.”

“Whoa-ho! Well, thanks for that vote of confidence,” a smirking Eugene sarcastically replied to the cheeky lizard on his shoulder.

“Second of all, while you and I were...talking,” continued Rapunzel, “Pascal scared up that hairpin and sewing needle you’d mentioned needing for picking locks. He says if you hold up your wrist with the shackle and instruct him right now in real time, he’s willing to help pick that lock with you,” and Rapunzel grinned.

“A lock-picking frog, eh?” Eugene marvelled, in spite of himself. He couldn’t help it -- the still-too-loud-Flynn Rider half of his brain was going wild considering that potential. “That is definitely gonna come in handy someday, ” he said with a faint smile on his face.

Eugene grabbed in his left hand the hairpin that Pascal had brought. The young man made sure it was bent crookedly in a certain way at one end and handed it back to Pascal. Next Eugene held up his shackled wrist and proceeded to coach the little chameleon in how to use the tricks of a thief’s trade. Twice more, Eugene modified the end of the hairpin, always handing it back to Pascal. Within about 90 seconds, the rusted manacle had popped open and slid off Eugene’s wrist onto the floor…..where he couldn’t help but notice a blood stain on the nearby tile below.

To divert Rapunzel’s attention (and his own), Eugene hastily put his boot over the top of the stain and made a big show of finally being free of the manacle. “Ahhh!!” he massaged his right wrist, “that’s more like it! Tiny high-fives, Froggy!” Eugene reached out his index finger toward Pascal who was still perched upon his right shoulder. The chameleon then “fived” Eugene’s fingertip with his bitzy claw.

Rapunzel helped Eugene all the way to his feet and with great relief, he stretched his long legs and even longer back all the way up to his full considerable height. As he was stretching over backward, allowing his spine some satisfying cracks, Eugene surprisingly felt someone touching his bare skin and stole a downward glance at Rapunzel, who was once again examining the former wound in his side.

The young woman noticed a bit too late that she’d already been seen. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Eugene had stopped stretching and was now peering down at her. Rapunzel instantly withdrew her hands as that now familiar delightful shade of pink blossomed under her freckles and she mumbled an apology. She instinctively backed away a step, looked up, and said, "You're even taller than I remembered."

[yukiwrites]

A New Chapter

Thank you for the support as always, @breeachuu! I hope you like the pilogue for Wolfie's story~ Watch out ye who reads, for the sin!

Summary: With the end of the war, it was time to bring in a new beginning. With Caspar by his side, Wolfie now had only the future to look forward to, a future alongside the one he loved and the family he had left behind to fulfill his mission...

Commission info HERE and HERE!

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The end of the war.

Surely there was not one person who felt the same about the outcome of the almost six years long war. Some were overjoyed, some had lingering regrets, some even felt bitter at the destruction that it had left in its wake.

It did not feel real for the first few hours after the defeat of the emperor. What happened after a war? What did the living do during times of peace? War scarred people in a way that made them forget how it was to simply live.

Wolfram had heard from his siblings that the end of their fighting left a bitter taste in their mouths, especially due to the destruction of their original world. Since a long time had passed after the end of the first Plegia-Ylisse war, Wolfram never heard about how Chrom hadn’t felt happy after dealing with the Mad King. Basilio, at that time, had said that victory could be bitter as well as sweet, though there was no way for Wolfie to know that.

To him, the end of the war carried the sweetest of tastes. It carried the taste of his blossoming love for Caspar, as well as the end of his lonely days.

The end of the fighting, which Wolfram grew to despise. Hearing about the hopeless battles his siblings had to go through made him wary enough of any fights -- and having to participate in a war at all was enough to make Wolfie want to distance himself from such things as much as he could.

Thus, Wolfram was overjoyed with the end of the war. There would be no more fights in his near future, nor would he need to worry to look over his shoulder in order to keep a secret he never wanted to hide in the first place.

This end meant a new beginning to Wolfie. It was the dawn of a new chapter of his long, long life -- this time, accompanied by his beloved Caspar.

Even though they hadn’t actually made any plans for the future, Wolfram took the trip back home with Caspar as a given, while they walked around camp hand in hand.

Most of the classmates from Garreg Mach still had many issues to resolve -- some would need to return to their estates right away while others wanted to help with the war relief. That was especially the case for those who still saw byleth as the guiding hand that had helped decide the outcome of their lives, so some of them even proclaimed to stay by her side for as long as they could.

Dimitri would be crowned King of the new Unified Fódlan, so he would need all the help he could get -- now especially that he and Byleth would unite through marriage and run both the political and religious sides of Fódlan together.

Wolfie would be lying if he said he was surprised by the fact that there was something going on between Dimitri and Byleth -- he had seen how deep their bond had been since five years ago, so being witness to their love brought him overflowing warmth that fell through his eyes.

He had embraced both the future King and the Professor with warm tears on his cheeks, laughing happily at how there were many new, hopeful chapters being opened with him at the center. He truly couldn’t contain his happiness at how despite witnessing the end of an Empire, that also meant that he was looking at the birth of a great Kingdom from the closest seat possible.

That made Wolfram more emotional than he could handle, even while being sometimes surprised by Caspar’s sudden pecks at his lips -- which, if Wolfie was being frank, were dangerous to his heart’s health. He didn’t know if he would faint from palpitations from Caspar’s rough sneak attacks or from his heart bursting with happiness.

The half-manakete could barely sleep during the march back to the monastery, taking it upon himself to stretch his wings every single night. The cold air felt good in his permanently-red cheeks -- now that he and Caspar had shared their feelings, sleeping beside his boyfriend in a tent full of other people made Wolfram hot and bothered -- so he welcomed the moonlight in high spirits.

Besides, the hair that Caspar had given him still weighed deeply inside Wolfram’s pocket. Now, more than ever, he wanted to make that jewel with these feelings into his fire. The joy of the war’s ending. The happiness of being reciprocated in his love. The longing he felt to be back home, with his family.

The anticipation of presenting his boyfriend to the family of immortals.

He had so many things he could pour into his fire that he wanted the moon to be full, already!

… However, he would probably not be able to make the jewel in Fódlan. The time allotted for him to complete his mission was nearly at its end, so he would most likely hear from Naga soon, regarding the portal to return to Ylisse.

It made him a bit lonely to have to make the jewel far from where he first met Caspar -- far from Caspar’s homeworld, as well -- but it also brought him a bit of giddiness. It meant that he could make the jewel that was so important to his kind, back in the world that had raised him into what he was today.

It all held a special meaning to the half-manakete.

The night before they arrived at the monastery, Caspar was lying down on his back with both hands behind his head, staring at the top of the tent with a content smirk. Seeing and appreciating this, Wolfie, who lay on the side so he could take a better look at his boyfriend, sighed happily.

“Do you have something in mind?” He whispered, careful not to wake up his fellow soldiers.

“Nah.” Caspar replied immediately. “I was just thinking that being with you is really a blast.”

Wolfram sputtered, choking on saliva. He dug his face under the blanket to muffle his coughs, feeling Caspar’s arm from outside the covers to bring him closer.

His coughing fit stopped almost immediately, being replaced by a very much red face inside the custom-made Wolfram package, inside the blanket. “I love being with you, too.”

“Yeah.” Caspar nodded, looking up as though he could see the night sky.

After a few moments of silence, Wolfie popped his head out of the blanket, looking at Caspar with his thin eyes. “You remember I told you about my mission, right? And how I had to go back after a set amount of time?”

Caspar moved his head to look at Wolfram, who was snuggling on his chest. “Yeah?”

“The time is, um, almost up. I never actually asked if you wanted to come back home with me, since I took it for granted, but I was wondering if you didn’t have anything to do back here-”

“No way, man, I’m not letting you leave.” Caspar cut Wolfie off, speaking so matter-of-factly that it made the taller boy blush. “We’re going together, wherever it is. I don’t really have anything holding me down anywhere.”

Wolfram’s eyes sparkled, his cheeks so red he almost forgot how to breathe. “... You’re so cool.” He whispered before digging his face into Caspar’s well-defined chest.

“Hehe,” Caspar snorted proudly. “Aren’t I?”

Wolfram simply giggled in response, snuggling into Caspar as if he were a little cat and not someone who towered over his boyfriend for a good many inches.

Once they were back at the monastery; back at a place that made all of them instinctively think of being productive, those who chose to return with Byleth and Dimitri started to get ready to work.

For some reason, Wolfie was captured by Dorothea on the afternoon of their arrival, completely unprompted. He had told her about his relationship with Caspar during the march back, but since there were many things to do and many miles to cover, there wasn’t much time for talking and gossiping. So, once back at a familiar place, Dorothea dragged Wolfie into her room, finding that there was another guest in there, as well.

“Eh? Ah, hi there, Yuri.” Wolfie greeted, with one arm still hostage to Dorothea’s grasp. He bowed awkwardly, as he hadn’t had much time to get acquainted with the beautiful man during their short interactions within the army.

Yuri simply crossed his arms and looked at Wolfram from top to bottom, then directed his gaze, under the beautifully long eyelashes, to Dorothea. “So you’re gonna have me explain it all in detail, yeah? The kid looks so pure…”

The songstress giggled, her melodious laugh stealing a smile from Wolfie even as he was confused with this situation. “I figured you’d know better how to talk about these things than me.”

“Well, you’re right about that.” Yuri smirked, his beautiful face making Wolfram nervous for some reason. Yuri then reached for something inside his cloak, directing it to Wolfie once he got it.

It was a vial small enough to fit into one palm. Receiving the tiny bottle, Wolfram tilted his head to the side in confusion. “Um…?”

Yuri snorted, almost laughing loudly. “Sit down, kid. I’m gonna give you a tutorial on how to take it up to your-”

“ALRIGHT, perhaps I should still remain to filter out the language, yes?” Dorothea placed a teacup with a loud clunk in front of Yuri, deafening the improper words he was about to utter. Still confused out of his mind, Wolfram sat down on the table as Dorothea organized it as though they were going to have a tea party for three.

Once their eyes met, Dorothea winked to Wolfram.

“Remember what I told you about taking the initiative?” She explained, making him open his mouth to reply.

But before he could even nod, Yuri interrupted. “So, I’m here to tell you how to take things to the next level.”

“Next-” Wolfram repeated the word without understanding it at first, but then realization sunk in like a slap on the face -- making his cheeks, neck and ears flush with a vibrant red. “Ah.”

Finding the reaction refreshing, Yuri threw his head back in laughter as Dorothea slapped him while at the same time holding Wolfram’s hand. It would prove to be a very… informative afternoon.

Wolfram didn’t even know how he managed to walk from Dorothea’s room to the dining hall once it was time for dinner. His entire body was still, his face was so red he thought they could mistake him for a tomato and cook him and there were some… graphic images imprinted into his mind.

He kept remembering the glimpses he took of Caspar’s body whenever they trained or bathed together -- and that made his own body fire up in response. He felt so dirty and embarrassed, but at the same time excited and expectant.

However, he wasn’t confident in being able to do the… well, things that Yuri had hammered into his head throughout the afternoon. It was all so overwhelming.

Yuri had even instructed him on how to start the intercourse in a natural manner, but- it was impossible! Wolfram didn’t even know if he was chewing on food or someone else’s hair at that moment, let alone be able to keep his cool enough to- to!!!

“Yo there, Wolf! Where have you been the whole day, man?” Caspar slapped Wolfram’s back, sitting right beside him with his tray of food, which made the half-manakete choke with whatever he had swallowed and bend his body forward. “Whoa, howa, you okay? Hey!” Caspar slapped Wolfie’s back with more and more strength, as though hitting someone on the back was a sure fire way of helping them with a coughing fit.

It only made Wolfram’s back sore, though the reason for his nervousness was right there beside him, with a warm hand on his shoulder.

“I-I’m, ack,” he cleared his throat, “I’m fine now, thanks, Caspar.”

Wearing a proud smile, Caspar nodded, finally turning his attention to his food. “No prob.” He said with a wide smile, downing the food that probably amounted to three times what Wolfie was eating in a speed that didn’t feel that belonged to a human. “Oh yeah, our room is still ours, they said! We can stay there till we leave for your world.” Caspar mentioned in passing, but that only made Wolfram almost choke again.

‘Our room.’

Wolfie hid his face between his hands, pressing his lips into a thin line in embarrassment. “I-I see! That’s great, nyahah…!” Wolfram stammered, but Caspar simply took it at face value and nodded happily with a mouth full of food.

… It would be the first time that they would sleep alone in the same room after becoming a couple, but nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary for Caspar, so Wolfram knew that he had to follow at least one of the pieces of advice he had learned earlier today.

If he didn’t act, nothing would happen.

Still, that didn’t mean that it was easy. He could barely see in front of him due to how nervous he was just to climb up the stairs to their quarters.

Hehe. ‘Their quarters’. Hehe.

“Ahem,” Wolfie cleared his throat as though he hadn’t just smiled inside his head, closing his eyes to be able to calm himself down. They arrived soon enough, as the route was well ingrained into their bodies.

Once inside, Caspar immediately crashed onto the bed, then looked up at the fidgeting Wolfram, who was planted in the middle of the room without a clear action to take.

Blinking, the shorter man looked to his boyfriend, then to the pile of luggage by the side, then back at his boyfriend and something lit up in his head. “OH yeah! Now we don’t need to sleep on separate beds, yeah? This bed’s big, so it’ll fit the two of us just fine.”

Wolfram swore he could actually hear his head exploding.

“We- um, sleep?”

“Yeah?” Caspar nodded with a question in his gaze. “We were basically sharing one sleeping bag anyway, so this bed’ll do just fine, doncha think?”

Of course.

Of course, of course, of course.

Caspar wasn’t thinking of ‘that’. He was just truly and literally talking about purely sleeping together.

Hiding his face with both hands, Wolfram took two steps towards the bed and sat besides his clueless, stupid and wonderful boyfriend. “Caspar…”

“Muh?” Caspar was looking at the dresser, thinking that he should probably change to his pajamas soon, before turning back to face Wolfram -- or at least Wolfram’s hands that covered his face.

“Fwooo… hahh…” Wolfram took deep breaths before sliding his hands down. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

Caspar frowned deeply, “get what?”

“What… what do couples…” Wolfram choked on the words, looking down to their touching knees. “What do couples do when they sleep together?”

If one were to explain the expression on Caspar’s face, it would be something akin to ‘lag’. It was like the midway of an expression -- like he was in the middle of doing something, but froze like that for a few moments.

“OOOH, YEAH MAN, wow that was dumb.” He placed one fist on his open palm as though making the discovery of the century, not realizing that he was repeating basically word for word what he had said after Wolfram first kissed him, back in Enbarr. “I never done it before, though, so it’s gonna be a shot in the dark.” He cocked his neck to the side in a way that made Wolfie’s legs tremble -- and if he wasn’t already seated, he would lose strength in them.

Being the gung-ho person that he was, Caspar already went for the attack, 100% ready to just give it a shot at this thing he had no experience on, leaning close to Wolfram to insert his tongue into his boyfriend’s lips.

“Mmpph..!” Surprised out of his mind, Wolfram widened his thin eyes, being pushed down on the bed by his eager boyfriend. He was ashamed to say that that neck cocking Caspar had done and the way his eyes looked almost savage before they kissed made a mess inside Wolfram’s mind. He even felt the heat circle around his pants, ready to push up excitement. “W-wait, wait-” Wolfram managed to plead as his head reached the pillow, completely robbed of his breath.

“Yeah?” Caspar huffed as well, his lips moist and slightly swollen from the roughness of their kiss.

“A-a friend with experience told me how to do this,” Wolfram stuttered, reaching for the vial he had hidden inside his pant’s pocket. “And he said that we can use this.”

“Muh?” Caspar sat back down, giving Wolfram the space to sit as well, as he examined the bottle. “What’s this for?”

“Um,” Wolfram’s face was burning hot, but he had to say this, at least now. From what he noticed from this short relationship he had with Caspar, Wolfram only had to take the initiative once. Then, Caspar would know what to do for later. “I heard that it’s, ah, um… hard to put it in when it’s between men.”

“Really?” Caspar frowned, still trying to discern what was inside the bottle. He popped the lid open and smelled it, but apart from the smell of herbs, there wasn’t much to go about it.

“Y-yeah, so I got this to, um… help… the way in.” Wolfram gestured to Caspar to give the vial back, which he did with a confused face. Wolfie then tilted the vial a bit, making a drop of a thick oil drip on his finger. “It’s to rub around and inside and, um…”

“Oh, I put this around my dick? So it’ll slide in?” Caspar took Wolfram’s hand to smell the oil again, then looked down at his pants.

Unfortunately, Wolfram followed his boyfriend’s gaze, meeting a half-erect bulge inside Caspar’s pants. It made Wolfie gulp and let out a small moan without realizing.

In a daze, it took Wolfie a few more moments to remember where the conversation had stopped. “N-no, it’s actually to… but inside… me…” His voice got weaker and weaker as he lowered his head with embarrassment. He mumbled something about two or three fingers, but Caspar didn’t catch all of that.

“Seems complicated. But alright, wanna try it?” Caspar asked, already taking off his shirt. Flustered with the sight of his boyfriend’s bare skin, Wolfie averted his gaze.

“Eh? Um, just like that?”

“Well, yeah. The sooner we get the hang of it, the better, right? C’mon,” Caspar nudged the hem of Wolfram’s bareback turtleneck, pulling it over his head with a swiftness one usually wouldn’t expect from him.

Bashful, Wolfram held onto the vial as though it was his salvation or something, as Caspar got up to take off his pants. Watching the spectacle made Wolfram feel something poking inside his own pants, as he was unable to take his eyes off of Caspar’s half-erect manhood.

Gulping, Wolfram didn’t realize Caspar pulled him up as well, only noticing what was going on once he felt hands pulling his pants down. “W-wait, um-”

“You don’t want it? But you’re hard, too.” Caspar poked at the head, making Wolfram shiver as hold back a hot sigh.

“I-I’m nervous, okay! I’m-” Wolfie complained, sitting back on the bed under Caspar’s strong arms.

“You think it’ll hurt? I don’t wanna stick it in you and hurt you.” Caspar pouted, not realizing his erection had fully grown during their talk. Seeing Wolfram’s white, glistening skin and slightly trembling shoulders made something crack inside of him for some reason. Even his dick looked cute to the point of Caspar wanting to touch it if only to see how Wolfie would react to it.

Of course, Wolfram was worried about the pain, too, but more than anything, he was just embarrassed in general. He had never even touched himself before, so this was truly the first time he even entertained such lewd thoughts. It was a bit overwhelming.

Seeing the hesitation in his boyfriend’s actions, Caspar pulled Wolfie closer, making Wolfram’s legs go around Caspar’s hips as they sat in front of one another -- with their erections touching each other in the middle.

“If you don’t wanna, I’m just gonna get this resolved for us, aight?” Practical as always, Caspar held both of their cocks with his hand, rubbing them together as he moved up and down.

Wolfram let out an ‘eek’, followed by a muffled moan, while his entire body flinched with the sudden wave of pleasure.

The noise made something else crack inside Caspar’s mind. He blinked, licking his lower lips as though he wanted to eat Wolfram all up and took his eyes away from their joined erections towards Wolfram’s face.

He was so adorable. “What the hell, you’re so cute.” Caspar cursed, pulling Wolfram for a kiss as his hand between them moved. He felt Wolfie’s tongue and body tremble, which fired him up even more. Once they parted, huffing hot air between them, Caspar placed his forehead on Wolfram’s. “Actually, can I go back on that? I wanna put it in so bad.”

Drunk with the pleasure from only Caspar’s hand and rough kisses, Wolfram dazedly nodded, not realizing he pulled his boyfriend down so he could be on top of himself. “Y-you can.”

“... hot!” Caspar huffed before digging into Wolfram’s lips once more, moving his hand a little bit faster if only to feel Wolfram tremble under him.

“A-ah…” Wolfie gasped a moan once their lips parted, feeling his body tremble with a premature ejaculation. He felt hot and relaxed at the same time, his fluids shooting up to his and Caspar’s chests. It wasn’t unnatural -- after all, it was the first time Wolfram had ever touched himself (or had someone do so).

Caspar thought it was even hotter now that he saw how good Wolfram felt, already wanting to shove it in as he prodded into Wolfram’s bottom.

“W-wait, the oil…” Wolfram opened his palm to give the vial to Caspar.

“How much do I put?” Caspar adjusted himself in a better position to penetrate, holding Wolfram’s legs on either side of his body.

Biting his lips, Wolfram didn’t notice he rocked his hips right on Caspar’s erection. “Three fingers… once three fingers are in, you can put it in… It’s what I heard.”

“What? But my dick’s larger than just three fingers.” Caspar mentioned shamelessly, making Wolfram press his mouth shut and squeeze his eyes with anticipation.

“I heard it’s awkward and difficult to position the hand with more than three fingers inside, so those are enough to ‘open a path’.” He rolled his head to the sides, speaking as though in a trance as he remembered the earlier talk.

Caspar shrugged. “Alright.” He replied, coating his fingers with the warm oil before teasing them around Wolfram’s bottom.

His touch was rough and clumsy, but whenever he hit a sweet spot, it made Wolfram’s whole body shiver with pleasure, which in turn spurred him to try harder into ‘loosening’ his boyfriend so he could put it in.

Each time a new finger went inside, Wolfram’s body heated up more. He felt feverish, in a way that made him want to succumb to the heat instead of finding something to cool him off.

He barely held enough consciousness to muffle his moans, but the longer he was stimulated, the looser his lips became; letting out countless of hot and stammering breaths.

More and more did Caspar hear cracking sounds inside of himself. What the hell, how was his boyfriend so cute? How? That voice? That glistening skin? That body that clenched around his fingers…

He wanted more. Goddess, he wanted so much more.

Caspar muttered something about reaching the three fingers and once again prodded his erection at Wolfram’s bottom, feeling the tip slide in much easier than before. He gritted his teeth and pushed it in, feeling enough resistance to make him squeeze his eyes, but enough warmth that made him want to stay inside forever.

Wolfram stretched out a long moan as Caspar slid it all in, feeling like there were tiny firecrackers all around his body; exploding each in a different way, making him tremble with pleasure the moment their bodies conjoined.

“Haah, hah… This feels so good.” Caspar panted, struggling to pull it out so he could shove it in, feeling Wolfram stretch himself to accommodate him. Caspar even felt stupid for not thinking of this before -- it felt this good and he only remembered it existed because Wolfram mentioned it?

Never again he would forget how good it felt to be inside the man he loved.

Wolfram felt that he was close to the climax again, with only the first insertion -- and it soon became reality. He covered his face with both arms as his entire body shook with pleasure; but Caspar was only getting started.

The spasms from the orgasm only spurred Caspar on -- with each thrust, his way became more comfortable inside Wolfram, and with each thrust, the heat enveloped them further. Wolfie’s mind was a mess -- he didn’t even remember how many times he came anymore, to the point that he could only focus on the thick rod inside of him, going in and out… in and out.

It felt so good.

By the gods, it felt so good! He cried tears of pleasure as Caspar accelerated his movements, onto the road of the climax himself.

As though ordained, Wolfram felt the blanket of pleasure cover him once again, now at the same time as Caspar, as his seeds shot inside Wolfram with a loud and deep groan.

Huffing, Caspar fell on top of Wolfram’s chest, his entire body tingling in the best way he had ever felt. “What… the hell,” he gasped, resting his face on his boyfriend’s neck for a beat. “This was amazing.”

“Y-yes… yes…” Wolfram nodded, exhausted, unable to continue the conversation as his heavy eyelids closed, his whole body protesting. “I love you, Caspar…”

“I love you too, Wolf.” Caspar nodded, still wanting to stay inside Wolfram for a moment, only realizing a few moments later that Wolfie had fallen asleep.

Wolfram felt his entire body aching once he opened his eyes. “Ouch, ouch…” He groaned, reaching for his lower back. He found himself inside Caspar’s arms, despite it feeling like late morning.

“You okay? Did it hurt?”

Before replying, Wolfram wanted to ask why Caspar hadn’t gone to training, but his mind was too much focused on how sore everywhere else was. In truth, Caspar woke up at dawn as it was his custom, but for some reason, he didn’t want to go train. He wanted to stay with his man a while longer, so he just hung out in bed, snuggling his tall boyfriend into his chest.

“It… didn’t, but now I’m all sore. Ugh.” Wolfie groaned, closing his eyes to check himself out.

“Huh. So we won’t be able to do it everyday. Got it.” Caspar nodded matter-of-factly, making Wolfram immediately blush.

“Wha- hu- every day…?”

“Yeah, no? If you’re like this today, we can’t do it again tonight. You think you’ll be good by tomorrow?”

“C-Caspar!” Wolfram nudged his boyfriend with an accusing tone, but the other man seemed serious.

“Muh? What? We’re doing it anyway, right?”

“...” Wolfie lowered his gaze, then dug his face into Caspar’s bare chest. “... yes.”

“Haha, yes!” Caspar celebrated, squeezing his boyfriend in a tight hug before receiving groans of protest. “Whoops, my bad.”

“Heehee,” Wolfram giggled, closing his eyes again to drift into a comfortable sleep; safe in his beloved’s arms.

There was fog, once Wolfram became conscious of himself. It was so foggy he wasn’t able to see his own hand in front of himself. Frowning, the half-manakete looked around him, trying to pull out the last of his memories before he ended up in this place.

Soon enough, he came up with the answer. “Ah, this is a dream.”

“Indeed, child.” A Holy voice echoed from below and above; from all sides and from within Wolfram himself. The boy widened his eyes.

“Naga!”

He felt a small laugh in the air, suddenly not hearing the words per se, but receiving flowing understanding inside his mind.

It was about a time. And a place.

The time and place he was supposed to leave Fódlan. Blinking inside the dream, Wolfram counted within his mind. Roughly one week until the portal opened inside the very woods he had arrived from, right below the monastery -- actually rather close to the place he had lived in isolation during the five years it took for Byleth’s Slumber to last.

Perhaps the energy around that place was special enough to hold for a portal between worlds to be erected. There was no way to know, at least not now.

Once Wolfram opened his eyes again, he was back in Caspar’s bed, though now he was alone. Blinking, he lifted himself up, still feeling sore, but much better than earlier that morning.

It wasn’t long after that his sensitive ears picked up steps reaching closer to the door, just as he had finished putting his clothes back on -- Caspar burst the door open, holding a tray with piles of food in his hands.

“Oh, Wolf! You woke up!” Caspar grinned, placing the tray on the secretary. “I ran once it was dinner time ‘cause I didn’t want to lose out on all the food, hah!” He said proudly, pulling Wolfram to sit on his lap by the desk. “Let’s dig in!”

Wolfram was a bit embarrassed by how easily Caspar did that, shyly taking a piece of bread from the overflowing tray. “Thanks, Caspar. I was really hungry.”

“Well, yeah, after all that exercise yesterday.” Caspar bobbed his head to the sides, making Wolfram blush at how casual he was about it all.

Muffling a giggle, Wolfram finished munching on his food. “I had a dream about when and where the portal to my world will open up.”

“That’s sick. I’ll never NOT get surprised every time you mention your powers.” Caspar shoved an uncut piece of meat into his mouth. “When’s it?”

“In a week, down at the woods not far from here.”

“Nice. Good thing it wasn’t back in the Empire, yeah? We’d need to run.”

Wolfram nodded comfortably, leaning more on Caspar. It was just so… surreal. To be so openly accepted. Of course, it wasn’t as though Wolfram had experienced any prejudice, so he felt even bad for feeling so happy about being accepted when nothing adverse had actually happened -- but it still made him feel so… at home.

It was like he had found a home outside of his own world, and that home was called ‘Caspar’. Hiding his face from all the cheesy lines growing inside of him, Wolfram kept these a secret as he munched on his food.

The week that would follow would be busy -- it would be filled with farewells and well wishes from his friends and classmates. Wolfram also planned to ask Dorothea and Dedue for a lock of their hair so he could make them their jewels.

Of course, he wouldn’t be able to do so here in Fódlan, but he was sure that the portal would open again, someday. It wouldn’t be the first time a portal to another world opened in Ylisse, after all.

Holding that confidence, he said a ‘momentary’ goodbye to his friends. He even spent a few hours crying when he had to talk with Dimitri and Byleth, holding them and their hands and wishing for their happiness to last forever while babbling about his own world. The royal couple smiled widely even though they were saying goodbye to each other. It was simply momentary goodbye.

With a refreshed face and a light heart, Wolfram led the way to the forest he had first appeared in, somehow dorwning in memories of all of the days he had shared with the people he had brought into his heart in that Monastery.

He looked and felt melancholy once they were far enough that only small outer wall could be seen from the distance. Caspar followed, talking about this and that, and asking about how the food was back in Wolfie’s home and how were the folks in his house like.

Talking about his family made Wolfie miss them much more strongly -- even more so now that he was just about to meet them again. His chin trembling, Wolfie had just finished speaking about how he looked a LOT like his dad when he felt It.

It was like the air itself distorted around them -- like the space they were in was actually two-dimensional and that one could simply put a hand up and rip it like paper. The power of the dragonstone inside his locket glowed, making Wolfie’s wings, horn and tail pop up as though in ressonance with the amount of energy all around him.

“Oh… it’s here.” Wolfie said in a dazed voice, making Caspar look from him to the tiny blue hole that started appearing in front of them. Before he could even open his mouth, the hole opened further, with a weird buzzing sound coming out of it. Wolfram took a deep breath, a large smile forming on his lips as he took Caspar’s hand. “C’mon! It’s here! Aquilo, fly, boy! Fly!” Wolfie jumped into the hole at the same time Aquilo dove in from the sky.

“A-alright!” Caspar nodded, hesitating only for a fraction of second before following his boyfriend into the light. He felt his uncertainty in his steps as all of his surroundings were distorted in a way that felt like when one hit their elbow at a corner. His surroundings looked exactly like how that felt.

Before he could blink, however, he felt the cool night air, and water seeping into his boots. “Water?” Barely was the word out of his lips, something immediately tackled Wolfram onto the ground, shoving Caspar out of the way.

“Wolfie!” Nidra hugged her youngest with tears in her eyes, her entire body still glowing from being the medium of Naga’s power. “Oh, my boy, my little boy…” Nidra sobbed, patting Wolfie’s face and chest, looking for injuries. “How are you? How was your mission? You didn’t get hurt? Oh, look how the tips of your hair are looking like mine…”

At his mother’s bombarding questions, Wolfie was barely able to breathe. But he didn’t want to push her away either. “Mother…!” He sniffled, hugging her back with everything he had. He sobbed into her shoulder. “I-I’m back! Wolfie’s back!”

Another set of tackles followed, now from both sides -- making the lump of people roll around the wet roots. Both Cynthias sobbed loudly as they hugged their little brother.

“Rammy!! Rammmyy!” They cried, but immediately started the questioning. “How was your epic adventure? You GOTTA tell us everything!”

Still overwhelmed with all of his family’s love, Wolfram couldn’t do anything but cry, holding onto his mother for dear life.

Caspar watched it all with a huge grin, happy to see Wolfram so happy as well. He felt a pat on his shoulder and looked on to see, uh, Wolfi?

Frowning, Caspar looked from the standing Wolf to the Wolf between the three girls, then back at the standing Wolf.

“Nyaha, we look alike, don’t we? But look clooosely,” Henry turned his head to the side, showing his perfectly round ears. “It took me a long time to get a kid that looked like me, you know!”

“Ooh! So you’re Wolf’s dad, then? Man, you two are identical.”

“Nyahaha, right?” Henry laughed heartily, but then gripped on Caspar’s shoulder a bit more strongly in a way that didn’t fit with his thin arms. “By the way, who’re you?”

Caspar pointed at himself. “Me? Oh, I’m Wolf’s boyfriend.”

“WHAT?!” Nidra jumped from the hug as though she had been listening to everything around her, rising in shock. “His- what?!”

“O-oh yeah, Mother!” Embarrassed for having lost himself amidst his family’s hugs, Wolfram got up to quickly head to where Caspar was, strangely surrounded by Henry, Meli and Meliodas. “His name’s Caspar and I brought him back here ‘cause I didn’t want to leave without him…” The more he spoke, the more bashful he became, looking down in embarrassment while Caspar nodded proudly beside him.

“Yup. I dunno what’s going on around here since there wasn’t much time for Wolf to tell me everything, but we’ll be fine as long as we’re together, right, Wolf?” He pulled the tall boy with an arm around his neck, smiling brightly in the face of five dragons -- not counting Nah and Tiki that had served as mediums, as well -- and an immortal.

Nidra felt faint, staggering in her spot as Henry materialized beside her to hold her up.

“Nyahaha, that sounds fun, doesn’t it? C’mon, let’s all go back and have a loooooong and fun talk!” Henry smiled brightly, though there was a shadow covering his thin eyes -- which, of course, went way over Caspar’s head.

He only grinned in response and puffed his chest up in pride. “Alright! Lead the way!”

Just as Wolfram had wondered that day, back in Enbarr, it now truly felt like a new chapter of his life was beginning -- a new chapter that involved his entire family, which included Caspar, and all the years that would follow their story together.

[kyndaris]

Braving Tried and True JRPG Tropes

When Bravely Default II was released, one of the first reviews I stumbled upon spoke about the person’s disappointment. Some of it came down to personal taste: the art style. Others were a bit more valid: the weak narrative and carbon copies of protagonists from other games. While the fan in me wanted to contest many of their claims, the more I played of the latest Japanese role-playing game (JRPG) from Square-Enix, I could not deny that there was a lot of tropes being used to prop up the strong gameplay loop and to give players the chance to try out the different jobs on offer. Still, many of these grips failed to deter me too much from my playing of the game. After sinking a hefty amount of time into it, I was able to push my way through the multiple endings and give Seth, Gloria, Elvis and Adelle the happy ending that they deserved.

As the faithful readers of my blog, you should know that I bought Bravely Default II while on a road trip with family. Though I should have been luxuriating in the February sun, I was much too engrossed in my Nintendo Switch to pay much mind to my surroundings. And even if Zac Efron or Chris Hemsworth had walked past, I’d probably barely bat an eyelid.

The first few hours of Bravely Default II had me busy reengaging with the mechanics that I knew from the first two games on the Nintendo DS and Octopath Traveler. Considering my familiarity with old-school JRPGs, it came as no surprise that I quickly managed to level up Freelancer as I cut a swathe through the grass surrounding the starting city of Halyconia. In fact, I realised quite quickly that the best way to get good items without paying a cent for them was to play the game like Link, eager to find rupees in the bushes. By the time I fought Dag and Selene and Horten, they went down like flies even though I hadn’t even bothered to change from my default jobs. 

Truth be told, when I read about the difficulties many people supposedly had with these earlier battles, I was scratching my head. Perhaps it was simply the method I play the games - grinding out each job to my satisfaction that had simplified what should have been difficult. On a side note, I thought that the job levelling was much better balanced than Yakuza: Like a Dragon and an infinitely more fun experience because of it. It allowed me to experiment with my team and find the best balance for taking on the various mobs in a given area.

The only time I actually prepared properly for a fight was when I took down Adam and the last few bosses. But even they were a considerable breeze when one had access to so many abilities. Paralysing everyone that stood in my way, inflicting poison and contagion, then having a maxed out Freelancer with Thief skills using Godspeed Strike? Child’s play.

Now, onto the weaker elements of Bravely Default II. The various plot-holes and unexplored characterisation of the heroes and villains. While Elvis and Lonsdale stood out to me, many of the others could have been interchanged with someone else and I would have barely been able to tell the difference were it not for their individual Asterisk attire.

Let’s start with Seth, shall we? Our main protagonist despite the ensemble set-up could have been ripped from any Japanese role-playing game. The ones he reminded me strongly of were Tidus and Vaan. Tidus, because he was a fish-out-of-water that had fallen in love with the woman that would have to sacrifice her life to bring peace back to the world. Vaan due to the fact that he never truly stood out and was simply part of the story just because of Wind Crystal shenanigans. Later on, he was made a bit more special due to his status as someone that had come from the Outer Seas.

In a way, it was a clever voice direction for Seth to be the only character with an American accent. This helped paint the fact that he was different from the others. Still, it would have been much better if we could have seen what his life had been like prior to the events that brought him to waking up on a beach in Halyconia. And while there are scenes in several sidequests that explore a little of Seth’s backstory, there’s little to sink one’s teeth into.

Gloria, on the other hand, is very much a stereotypical princess of a mystical kingdom. Though the voice actress is very good at expressing the pain she has gone through as one of the sole survivors of Musa’s destruction, I feel like it would have connected better with players to have seen the invasion and perhaps played a small part in controlling her escape. Though these things are just little nitpicks, it adds to the characters and allows people to emotionally invest in the happenings of the world. 

That, in and of itself, is probably Bravely Default II’s key problem. The fact that it tells rather than shows.

Elvis, of course, is the star of the show. His quirky traits, affable nature make him a clear favourite and much more human than his other counterparts. The narrative around Wiswald was also great example of fleshing out his past and the people he knows. It is much more personal, pulling on our heartstrings to learn about the death of a young child, and thus carries more weight than the water shortage in Savalon or the fairy hunting in Rimedhal, which was clearly meant to mirror witch trials. 

While Folie, the main antagonist behind the happenings in Wiswald, could have been better written and with a more tangible tie to the people of Wiswald, the fact that she manipulated Roddy, Lily and poor Galahad with visions of the dead Mona meant that a bit of pathos was achieved when she was finally brought down.

Adelle, a little cliche, was still an intriguing character that rounded out the team (I still can’t place her accent). The reveal that she was actually a fairy was a delight. It was also nice that her goals also aligned with the main narrative of stopping the Night’s Nexus, instead of being as superfluous as Elvis trying to solve the riddle of a book he had in his possession or Seth just tagging along for the ride. 

As for the foes that we faced? Most of them seemed like excuses to dress up how players obtained their Asterisks. Many of them seemed like caricatures. And honestly, Martha’s excuse to fight the Heroes of Light was abysmal. But, of course, the developers needed a way for players to experience what it might be like fighting a foe that had the Dragoon Asterisk before they could use it for their own.

I will admit, the story just felt like a vehicle to pick up each Asterisk along the way. Oft times, I had to wonder why so many of these people felt compelled to stand in the way of the Heroes of Light. And while it would have been much better to have a more personal reason for why we fought these enemies besides the fact that ‘Oh, they have an Asterisk and something, something Crystal!’ I still managed to push my way through.

Still, the fact that Dag and Selene managed to snag more character development in the sidequests was great. Gladys’s attempt at atonement and her brother’s grief was also good ways to delve into topics that might have been a little too dark for a title that had such gorgeous backdrops and adorable character models.

Now, to the meat of the matter. The plot holes and the things that were never truly explained. Edna’s descent into madness though Adelle often insisted her sister had always loved humans. How and where Lady Emma found the book that actually contained the memories of the Night’s Nexus? Where does Seth actually come from? How did he die? Why was he chosen by the Wind Crystal? Why was Adam so invested in trying to conquer the world? Did he experience something bad in his past that informed his current need to stop war by starting it? Where did Folie come from? Who is she and why did she feel the need to torment the people of Wiswald for her art?

So many mysteries. So little explanation.

Overall, Bravely Default II has quite a few flaws and missteps. Yet, despite that, it’s a sum greater than its parts. The narrative might not have been captivating, but it managed to keep pulling me through until I saw the true ending. Anticlimactic as the final boss battle might have been, I still felt a certain satisfaction in seeing Gloria tackle Seth to the ground. And honestly, who doesn’t want to Godspeed Strike their way to victory?

P.S. I will say that after witnessing Adelle save Martha, I had hoped for a blossoming romance, but the dialogue between her and Elvis during the second bad ending got to me. It may not be my one true pairing, but Elvis x Adelle was an arrow to my heart. My only question is: how old is Adelle? She looks like a child and yet, because she’s a fairy, she could be like a century older. Maybe better not to think too hard, eh? After all, why sweat the details?

[muriellive]

If you, my dear reader, are Russian-speaking, then it will probably be easier for you to read this creation on the site "mangalib" or listen to this video:

A forgotten village on the outskirts of the Kingdom of Clover - Ankvar, the inhabitants of this village were completely killed during the invasion attempt of the warring kingdom of Diamond. Among its ruins, slowly moving his feet, a tall man of about twenty, wrapped in all black, was waddling about. On his head was a large-brimmed hat with a silvery pattern on the tips, and his face was covered with a torn dark blue mask.

Elbe (and that is what he was called) was looking for a certain magical beast, which, according to rumors, has been raging in the eastern lands of the kingdom for quite some time. Who and why asked him about it is not known, but the man was never interested in the reasons and motives of his customers. "There is money, and okay" - so he thought. Yes, exactly, Elbe was a hunter ... a bounty hunter.

The order this time was very strange: "I have not ordered animals yet ..." - he thought.

But, let's forget about this hunter for a minute and go a little further south ...

Faber is a city on the outskirts, standing at the intersection of trade routes. A young (in fact, not very much, 32 years old is too much) knight magician, straightening a grayish cape with a deer patch, happily blurted out:

- Eh, it was a wonderful day today! - Novakhrono, again running away from his duties, walked around the evening town.

- Look, this is Mr. Julius! Captain of the Gray Deer! - joyful children's voices were heard behind the knight. Responding to their exclamations, the blond turned around, putting on a wide smile on his face, which, it would seem, could banish all sadness and sadness with its one appearance.

- Yeah, kids! Also strive to become knight magicians?

To his rather unintelligent question, the children happily chorus answered "Yeah!"

- Knight mages are cool! - shouted the red-haired boy.

- Cool, huh? - Julius said thoughtfully.

- Yes exactly! When I become a knight-magician, I will be able to fight and attack dangerous opponents with my magic. - the boy rejoiced.

“W-well, this is…” Novachrono tried to explain that the duties of the Knights-Mages are completely different from a simple battle.

“How stupid…” came a high, childish voice, in which, however, there was a certain alarm. The future king of magicians stretched out his neck a little to make out the owner of light brown, tattered hair. Before his eyes appeared a tiny little inch, wrapped in a long scarf and looking towards the children with sad, frightened eyes.

- What ?! - the red-haired boy looked at the girl with an inflated and angry expression on his face. - Nobody asked you, ragamuffin!

- Well, well, don't. - Julius tried to settle the situation. However, here no one even listened to him: everyone sharply turned their gazes to the trembling little girl.

Unfortunately, this attitude was not unusual for her. Yes, it is understandable - the Clovers did not like foreigners, but for a four-year-old child it was very difficult to withstand such pressure.

- I w-wanted ... - the baby began quietly. - …to tell…

- What? - asked Novachrono.

- Knights-magicians, after all, first of all, assistants and only then warriors, right?

It seems to be a simple phrase, but what effect it had on Julius! At that moment, he thought: "really, the mouth of a baby speaks the truth!"

- Shut up, stranger, they didn't give you your word! - the redhead got angry, offended that he was interrupted. To which he immediately received a slap in the face from his mother, and then a reprimand. The woman, quietly apologizing for the bad behavior of her unlucky son, hastened to disperse the kids to their homes.

The captain of the "Gray Deer" shook his head and was about to leave, when he suddenly felt that his clothes were being pulled. He turned around and saw the thumb again. Now, when she stood a little closer, one could make out her, to put it mildly, "unkempt" clothes, disheveled hair and a filthy nose.

- What do you need?

The girl creased the hem of her cloak a little, and then wiggled her hand, indicating that Julius should bend down. Novachrono looked at the baby in bewilderment, but did not object. She began to whisper, barely audible:

- Could you see me off?

The captain of the Gray Deer was even more surprised!

- To carry out? What for?

- Oh, you do not be angry, knight-magician. - answered for the girl standing next to the old woman. - A girl and her brother came here to us, but he is all at work: where he rushes - do not understand! This animal has also been running around here ever since they arrived here ... - the elderly woman crossed herself at last and bowed and left.

"Animal?" - thought to himself the future King of Magicians. "They haven't reported this to the main headquarters ... I suppose we ought to stay here a little longer."

With these thoughts, Novakhrono took the girl by the arm and led her home ...

...

Well, have you already forgotten about him? And he had already managed to get to the village of Faber! Elbe walked a little loosely along the streets, between the wooden-stone buildings only 2-3 floors high. He could not find any signs of an attack: he could not find any scratches, no destruction or breakdowns, which means, most likely, the animal does not come to the village itself. “Perhaps he is whipping up the inhabitants on the outskirts,” Elbe flashed through his head.

- But you have a big village. - the hunter heard someone approaching him!

Without thinking twice, he ducked around the corner and listened. On the road to the outskirts of the village, there were two: a child and an adult man. Elbe recognized the captain of the Gray Deer at once, but he did not care about the girl at all. But this is only for now ...

“What is the strongest among the captains of the orders of the Knight Mages doing here? The task? Really, he also hunts the beast? " - the thug was nervous.

- Well, where is your brother? - asked the magician in a gray cape. - What is his profession?

- A? I dont know…

After these words, Julius became wary. Looks like he was a little worried about the girl.

- How long has he left?

- Hmm ... - she thoughtful ... - About two months already gone.

Novachrono's eyes widened in surprise: he looked at the baby with fear in his heart, realizing that there could be thousands more like her in their kingdom! And she walked with a light gait, full of hopes for the return of her brother ...

Having brought Natsuhi, and that was the name of the girl, to her house, which was half ruined, the man did not leave the village, as he had previously planned, but, on the contrary, decided to stay at a local hotel for a short while. Still, it's not a joke: who knows how many more people may suffer ...

Novachrono woke up not so early: at about nine in the morning, and then, not because he wanted to, but from a sudden noise outside. Without thinking twice, he dressed and with a quick and swift step went to the exit, where an unmeasurable number of fans had already gathered to gawk. Pushing aside the passers-by, Julius hurried into the depths of what was happening, where in the middle of the gazing lay a twenty-year-old boy, dressed in black clothes and with a mask on his face. Elb was badly wounded in the chest. Around him, in a barely noticeable whirlwind, swirled dark roc, particles similar to small birds that make up all the magic in this world. But what's strange is that usually they have only one color - white, the captain of the knights-magicians has never seen any other colors before in his life! Of course, the people around him didn't share the same excitement as he did, because they had too little mana to see these particles.

"Black ... from where?" Julius asked. - "It just can't be!"

“E...ars” Elba's whisper was barely audible, but Novachrono could still make out his words. - That girl ... - after hearing the "Gray Deer" fell into a stupor. The young man passed out and vryatli can wake up soon, but one thing was clear ...!

“N-Natsuhi…” The knight-magician decided to visit the girl in view of recent events. - Why did you and your brother leave your home country?

- A? I don’t know… ”She handed the man a saucer of cookies. He accepted and put it on the table, continuing to listen. - Aniki simply said that it became dangerous there, but why, I still did not understand ... - the baby puffed out her cheeks, lowered her eyes to the floor and raised her hand to her chin, thinking.

- Well, I'll go ... - the girl smiled, taking the rocker standing in the corner, and headed for the door.

- Wait a minute! Julius stopped her. - I will go with you. H-help, otherwise it's hard.

- Yes, not so ... - the fair-haired woman was a little surprised.

- No, no, you're a girl, and girls can't carry heavy things!

"You can't leave her alone ..."

...

- Here! See, I can do it myself! - The girl deftly lifted a bucket of water from the well, "hugging" it with her little hands ...

- Yeah ... - Julius clapped his hands. He tried not to show it, but it was clear that the captain was nervous when the little girl laughs so merrily and carefree, not suspecting anything ...

“Do I need to report this? Or is it better to deal with it quietly? " - the magician reflected. Deciding to write a report, Julius first called his confidant, Marcus, to keep order in the village and paid special attention to protecting Natsuhi. He suspected that it was for her that the mysterious beast was hunting.

...

Elb had been in the hospital for about two weeks. I did not even think to regain consciousness! While he was passed out, images kept popping up in his head: as if a tape had been inserted, but there were clearly gaps in it. But he clearly remembered that very night - the battle was clearly not an easy one ... Ears, more like a cat's, gray eyes and a distorted semi-human silhouette. The hunter has never met such a monster ...

Soryy for such an abrupt narration)

Night. Quiet and calm, starry. However, Novakhrono was in no hurry to surrender to the sweet embrace of Morpheus. He was sitting at a table in a huge luxurious hall, crowned with columns of the Doric order and pondering over the latest events, which had managed to stir up his imagination so well: on the one hand, he was interested to look at a new, hitherto unseen type of magic, on the other, “why exactly Natsuhi? "

This question still haunted him. "What's so special about her?"

Then a white flat image suddenly appeared over his head, which, in bright streams of light, scattered from the middle to the edges, disappearing. It was the magic of Marcus, although he himself, for some reason, was not visible. Usually his communication magic will display an accurate image of himself in a second, but this time it was different, which made Julius tense up! The window slightly trembled and blinked, and then disappeared altogether, after a barely intelligible sound of words came from there. The blond immediately stood up in amazement and, commanding the black-haired boy to get ready and call for reinforcements, instantly went to Cob (Cob Portaport is a spatial magician shown in chapter 113 of the manga and in episode 73 of the anime. He seemed to help Finral with training), so that he could transfer him to the village.

Meanwhile, in the settlement itself, something crazy was happening everywhere: Elb, standing on the main street and holding a barrel of oil in his hands, spilling its contents and setting it on fire! The people around fell into a panic and, shouting and begging for help, ran madly to the outskirts of the village.

- Ha ha! Right! Run, save your pitiful lives!

The fire was arranged by him in order to drive the residents out of this village before the beast, which was already raging in full force in the center, killed everyone. But now a dark silhouette has already burst into the local church! The long, long hair that hid his face hung in strands dirty and slightly scorched from fire. Bright gray eyes darting from side to side and curved limbs with claws. All wounds that would not have inflicted on him instantly healed!

"And how to fight such a monster ?!"

Elb threw the keg at the monster and threw a lighted match. The oil flared up sharply and the fire covered the entire body of the evil spirits, from which it began to wriggle in agony with piercing screams. But even the flame was not able to defeat the monster! It burned, but did not die! The body of this chkdisha completely recovered, even no burns remained.

"This is clearly not a regeneration," Elbe wondered.

Distraught with rage, the monster attacked the hunter, causing both of them to fly a rather long distance. Elb, before landing instantly, purely on reflexes, pulled a small dagger from the sleeve of his uniform and tried to get rid of the attacker by striking a blow. Surprisingly, it worked: when it fell, the monster recoiled from the young man back. Grasping the wound inflicted in the neck, it screamed pitifully!

"Here it is!" - thought the hunter, - "Weak point".

He was already preparing to strike a second blow, crushing! How suddenly I felt that all sounds suddenly disappeared! The flame that had recently destroyed the village went out ... there was a deathly silence. The beast writhed and groaned in pain. Elb just for a second looked away from her to look around, but, concentrating on his goal, he attacked and then the monster suddenly disappeared, and instead of him ...

...

The hunter tried to hit him again with his metal magic, but a steel shield appeared in the stranger's hand in a strange way. Or rather, not quite a shield, rather just a mass of steel. The stranger passed his right hand through the air, quickly sketching some symbols. Suddenly the ground cracked and water burst out from under it in violent streams. It's just that a huge amount of water filled the whole area. Then it felt like the skin was colitis. A bright flash of lightning rippled across the water surface and instantly struck Elb ...

After what time a detachment of "Gray Deer" arrived at the scene of recent events, but neither the monster, nor the fire, nor that strange stranger in the silly mask was gone. And only the wounded bounty hunter lay, unable to get up, in the middle of the empty street, remembering the words: "Save me, brother" ...

[spidermilkshake]

Isolated Element--Part 1: Captoptromancy

Welp, I'd best post writing on the hellsite too. What better place for the unhinged fanfiction that spills between my brain's cracks?

IP: Kingdom Hearts (powerfully headcanon'd)

Genre: Fantasy, Mystery+Suspense

Word Count: 2,400+

TW: Unreal/derealized dream states, mild body horror

(Next)

1: Catoptromancy

It had been a few years since she had last come this way. Already, nothing was at all like she remembered. Years back, Traverse Town didn’t even have its proper name; it was only known as the settlement cobbled together from Gaia’s refugees—from Radiant Garden to Corel to Nibelheim—a hybrid of survivalist shelters and shanty-town as more and more hunks of unfortunate Worlds materialized in the outskirts, sometimes bringing hundreds of new people with them. A few years ago there weren’t quite five thousand folk crowded in here, getting by on salvaged bits and crisis aid given by the Elveshmean military and the Elvaan Źduhace (the Elven Dragoon Order). If not for the work of Radiant Garden’s more progressive intellectuals, Gaia’s ties to Elves and even fellow Human nations would not have been so strong, and if not for these ties, the alarm at the sudden radio silence would not have been so swift in onset. If not for this, Traverse Town would likely have remained a guttering, suffering den of survivors—languishing and on their own.

Aqua sympathized.

As she disembarked the transport cruiser into a grey, stale-smelling rain she noticed immediately the place’s changes. She pulled the sides of her hooded poncho together, pausing by the platform’s railing to look out over the newly-constructed bell tower, and the mis-matched buildings surrounding it. Formerly, this area had been half-built and strewn with piles of salvaged rubble. The wrecked hulk of an Interspace-Airship hybrid, the Highwind Mark IV, had lain propped up on blocks, its engines burst and drained of power. It had since been moved—or taken apart, likely to go towards the Mark V. Shaking the oil rivulets dripping down her hood away, Aqua brought herself back to the present. Traverse Town was now equipped with signs; she began following some, scanning the terraced levels and built-into underpasses for signs of nightly lodging. A warm, elevated porch caught her eye—its swinging sign lit up with a covered manatech lantern, the orange glow making “Bedknobs+Broomsticks: Food—Rooms—Entertainment—Vacancies Available” legible through the weather. She climbed the stairs to the entrance, taking a moment to shake the rain from her poncho again, to not drip a soot-marred trail all through the place. The least she could hope for was that this one wasn’t already grimy, and without her griming it up for the proprietor.

It did turn out to be clean inside, mostly. A few active spiderwebs decorated the high, out-of-the-way corners, but a polished oak bar-top was well-shined, and a row of recessed booth seating looked to be mostly clear minus some spice containers. It was a tiny place, a staircase and a cramped elevator entrance intruding halfway into the diner-like area. Clearly, most of the establishment was on ascending floors and this scant hole-in-the-wall was the only important thing besides cheap beds. At first she assumed she was alone on the floor—some clanking in the doorway behind the bar area implied one distracted kitchen worker only. A sound like sheafs of silk rubbing together turned her head, and the slight, constant movements caught her peripheral vision.

She jolted, instinct forcing her to grip thin air after a Keyblade that would no longer come to her. After all this time, she’d assumed she would be used to the full range of weird entities roaming the Three Realms, but apparently this… entity, was still a surprise.

He was wedged into the outermost side of the closest booth, in the shadowy corner. His feet were propped up on the table and half-crossed, but it was not their electric-green claws and webbed toes the color of “drowning victim” that was so terrifying: The rest of him was by far more strange. Tall, slender, with swept-back pointed ears and some of his dark reddish hair braided into an Elf-Knot identified his species—and the bustling array of mutations he bore brought that species into question again. Above the protective gloves and bracers he wore, his forearms were that drowned-blue color, and slithering with several large tentacles each. His ripped jeans were a similar story at the hip joint—and even more sprung from a point near his shoulder blades. The deep V-neck of his shirt allowed a travesty of more subtle issues to be on display: His shoulders and across his collarbones had stubby, green quills protruding from them, the veins of his neck close to the surface were a green hue too and hideously engorged. On second glance, Aqua suppressed a shudder of revulsion as she saw the veins on his arms and even one faintly popping from his temple were the same. A moment passed in which this Grey Elf paid no attention to her—engrossed with a ratty-looking, thin book propped open against one knee—but then, vivid purple eyes flicked over to the onlooker.

“Well, well, cydezé,” the twisted elf greeted her, gaze flicking over her from the Keybearer’s Chi-Rho emblem on her chest to the lacing ornaments over her corset and spur-stabilizers on her boots, landing at last on her muted blue hair and bright eyes. “They say it’s rude to stare, stranger.”

“Sorry, I, uh…” Aqua stalled her movements by force of will, as instinct was sending her creeping backwards. “I couldn’t help but look.”

“’Swhat they all say!” He snickered, snapping his book closed. She couldn’t be so sure of this relaxed, humored response; her eyes lingered on the tentacles as they coiled back over themselves. “No offense taken at all, eh, miss..?”

“I’m Aqua,” she suppressed a flinch, especially as one of his eyebrows raised in intense interest.

“Aqua, eh?” Finally, he slid the mutated pair of feet down from sight. “Excellent. I’m named Oppidimy—though some call me the ‘Octomancer’. Or a walking accident.” He chuckled again, grinning.

“Now we’re introduced, at least—so! You didn’t come in here after me, I’ll assume, but surely you’re looking for someone.”

Aqua’s brow twitched as it was tempted to furrow, “What makes you say that?”

“You have that ‘looking for someone’ quality,” he smirked, tipping a hand towards the scene outside, “It’s a safe assumption. Most who come here are, in fact, trying to find people.”

The young Keybearer half-bit her tongue; appearance aside, she was unsure of how wise it would be to make even a guarded mention of her goals. Oppidimy was clearly a mage of some sort: What kind was as uncertain as how he’d come to be half-elf, half-aberration. And what kind of magic-user he was made all the difference.

“Actually, I wasn’t looking for someone,” she chanced it. She figured she could downplay the importance it had, leaving little clue that the lost item in question was the sacred Keyblade. “Something, actually. Several somethings.”

“Lost some stuff?”

“Actually… more like stolen.” She sucked in a breath, reigning in the residual outrage that lingered even years later, “A sword, and a set of plate armor. They were very important to me and I don’t have much idea of who took them from where I last saw them.”

Oppidimy clicked his tongue, eyes hooding in a disgusted expression as he nodded.

“That’s cute—people really are out there like that. World’s in the process of ending and they’ll still try robbin’ you blind.” Aqua blinked hard at the statement, but he carried on overtop of her visible bewilderment, “Odds are, the culprit’s one of a short and nasty list; the only types who would be out to steal anything that wasn’t provisions, these days.

“I might be able to help y’ out,” a slow, crooked smile spread over his pointed features, and his gloved fingertips settled together into a triangle of scheming thoughts. “At least, if you’ll have me. At the very least I could help rule out some of these skeezballs.”

“And how would you accomplish this?” Her voice turned suspicious, and the Rurcelan mutant obviously cottoned on. He disbanded the triangle of wicked contemplations with a series of assuring waves, shaking his head and chuckling.

“Ah, ah, I know that tone—relax! My methods are one hundred percent legitimate, completely moral. Even though I blend in quite well with society’s villains and monsters, the ‘look’ was not exactly intentional. But, if you’ll take up my offer, you’ll see how it serves to my advantage.”

As Oppidimy began to stand and tuck his book amongst the grips of the tentacles issuing from one elbow, Aqua tilted her head:

“…So you specialize in espionage?”

The elf raised a gloved finger to his lips and the quills on his bare shoulders went rigid, suddenly looking grim and serious.

“Not so loud,” He slid past her, the Keybearer wearing a stone face even as she cringed internally at the tendrils coming inches from brushing by. Stepping towards the stairs, he turned back to call over his shoulder, smirk returned: “Come see me some time if you need a hand, yeh? I’m in 32. I’d suggest giving that old office door a knock so you can get a room of your own before it gets too late.” He began to cackle, “Owner’s a bit narcoleptic, so knock hard!” His laughter echoed, becoming cartoonish as he ascended the narrow stairwell and the raucous noise faded out. She paused a few seconds just to breathe.

Never had she encountered someone quite so exaggerated—it felt like a front—or a trap. She could be the intended victim, but just as easily the intended bait, a lure to draw in the unsavory targets he’d referred to. Only further investigation would bring that to light.

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

As suspected—the place was a cheap joint for cheap beds. The need in town was high, and the cramped room she was assigned was, at the very least, livable. Crumpled under the stiff, rough-textured outer sheet, every attempt to calculate the dubiousness of the elf’s offer, versus the likelihood she could finally close in on her lost Keyblade, set her sleep back another hour. And another. But slowly, surely, sleep and Aqua arrived at an uneasy truce.

She had the dream again. Different—and clearer.

The vision of that round, white, metal-plated room, the gaps in this armoring (or acoustic featuring?) showing faint glints of pipes, cables, and other hints at underlying manatech. It mocked her. She was for a second so infuriated at its recurrence that she almost missed the new features: Insignias in a stark black marked the walls, familiar but strange. It was much like the Keybearer’s Chi-Rho—or the Heartless Emblem, itself very much a cheap plagiarizing of the order’s sign—upside-down, so that the spikes forming the “Chi” took the peak position.

The miasma of her unconscious half-lucidity swam around her as she struggled to turn around and face the raised central area. She had already seen what was arranged there during the prior dream states. Her armor, and her Keyblade, where she knew it last. If the passage of time was to be believed, someone had been keeping it tidy and dust-free.

The chair was new. Aqua’s jaw hung in silence a moment, unable to react, as she faced its occupant. Outside of this recurring hallucination she knew she was asleep—and she wondered if he, within the dream, was also. His dark-toned skin and wildly-arranged silver hair were uncomfortably familiar, and his face itself also so but for different reasons. His ears were slightly-pointed as a half-elf’s would be, but since his eyes were closed she couldn’t tell if he possessed the mish-mash of colors and features she dreaded. She had seen this man before, she was sure this was… but somehow, her mind refused to let her assume this was the same person. Or persons, technically. He had to be, and yet… she was sure this quietly seated man was another entirely.

Her frown began to appear, giving some control of her face and voice back. Whoever this dead-ringer for Terra (and Xehanort) was, there was no likelier suspect for the role of the one who had relocated this Chamber—her Keyblade with it.

“Where are you?”

Aqua nearly jumped, though her dream-self felt far too sluggish for it. Exactly as and exactly what she had been gathering up energy to say the man with closed eyes had asked in a low murmur, devoid of feeling. Though, this she supposed could be from him truly being asleep—mumbling and aware of her regardless.

“No,” she barked, “You tell me. Where are you? And who are you?”

The man paused, eye movements flickering behind their lids. In painfully slow motions, he began to shake his head.

“I cannot answer you. You must tell me first.” He was still almost deadpan, with a hint of tired annoyance creeping in now.

“You can’t force me to tell you, and you can’t do anything to me. This is a damn dream-state. So, if you want anything, you first.”

He huffed, his brows twitching, and the sleek black fabric that made up his gloves straining as his grip on the armrests tightened.

“No,” he growled. “You don’t understand. I cannot answer you first because I have no answer. I don’t know who I am.” He let silence return to the humming void around them, becoming neutral in expression, “But perhaps, if you tell me your name, I can know more.”

A spike of hope softened her expression; the frustration and the intonation was so like his, melded neatly with the rigid aura of calm he imposed on himself—two traits so Terra-esque and incongruous with each other they seemed unlikely to be performed. And very un-Xehanort, in this way.

“I’m Aqua. Do you have a name, by chance?”

“I do,” he nodded, brows knitting slightly, “But it would mean nothing to you. It is a chosen name, taken after the time you seem to recognize me from.”

“Are you Terra?” She forged ahead, prepared for a let-down.

“I am aware of who that name belongs to, but I do not think so,” he surprised her, “Before you ask: I am equally aware of the one called Xehanort. I am not him.

“You have seen this Chamber before, haven’t you?” A dim inkling of curiosity entered his soft tone, surprising her alongside the change of subject. “Years ago I began to see this place. In my dreams at first, and then, every time I closed my eyes. I suspect you saw these visions. You saw the way into the room, hidden in what is left of the bastion of Radiant Garden.”

“How did you figure that out?” But, already guessing the answer, her eyes wandered to the sections of her armor propped on the central dais.

“I have memory I can’t explain,” he began. “I remember the name of the one this Keyblade, and its armor manifestation, belongs to. Aqua.” Sudden, jarring, he seemed unable to resist letting his eyes snap open and zero in on her with their bright, orange intensity, “This belongs to you, doesn’t it?”

An immediate shock came over her—but not only from being eye-to-eye. As soon as it happened, a spell broke. She felt roaring in her ears; the Chamber of Repose winked out and she was filled with the sickening sensation of half-awake, confused floating just above one’s body. Psyche-wise, she felt slammed back into her self as she bolted awake, still curled under the cheap inn’s terrible sheets, the room quiet and empty.

She sat up, waiting for some soreness that never came. A vivid dream. Not exactly, but closer than really being there. For a minute she just listened; a few muffled clangs of activity echoed from some lower floor, and she could hear through razor-thin walls the sounds of folk opening and shutting doors, exchanging bleary greetings, and going about the act of “morning”. A sliver of weak light creeping in between shut curtains confirmed the early, small hour. She collected her wits, and stood. She wasn’t getting any more sleep now anyways.

To Be Continued