#Yeah its just a “prologue” / “Introduction” for now but its still something that will be/is a part of the actual series

[thegothicviking]

I did it! After almost 7 whole years!

(And now I want to vomit!)

The very first part of my Rammstein fic series is finally uploaded at Ao3!

(After almost 7 whole years of questioning and doubting myself as the annoying perfectionist that I am! I've now finally decided to publish this thing. Bit by bit, into the new year 2025!)

But please be gentle with me as I know the summary text and the "notes" might be a little "too long" for everyone to bother to read! (I was unmedicated when I wrote it and these long notes and summaries won't be added to every single chapter. I swear!)

[felikatze]

Euphrasie and the End

A Deep Dive into the Head Housemaiden and her symbolic meaning

Introduction

Spoilers for the whole game, and also the prologue, by the way.

Hello everybody. You may know me from that other post about Euphrasie or maybe the ludonarrative essay or the QOL one. No matter the case, today I return to my favorite side character, Euphrasie, the Head Housemaiden.

This all starts with a central thesis you're likely to be familiar with.

Euphrasie represents the end. In the most literal sense, she is where every journey ends. She is the representation of Siffrin's fears. With every repetition, Siffrin grows to dread and fear the sight of her, more than they ever do facing down the King again.

And I want to look at that.

The Damsel

It's a tale as old as time. The big bad has kidnapped the lovely princess! Everyone, we must save her! And so, our epic tale begins, as Mario chases after Peach and Link vows to return and save Zelda -

That, quite obviously, is Euphrasie. Albeit not your traditional princess, she's still a female figure with great importance to our protagonist. (Our protagonist, quite obviously, being Mirabelle.)

Mirabelle's entire journey begins with her fleeing the House and embarking on an adventure with one goal - return home, and free everyone. ISAT invokes many many many stereotypical RPG tropes.

It uses those tropes by going, well, you know how the story goes, let's get right into the meat of it, yeah? Because ISAT is a story that only works on the precipice of an ending. It's the last dungeon! We're back in starter town, transformed by the big bad, and now we gotta take it back. (Like, do I have to invoke Ocarina of Time, or something? You know how it goes, you've seen this story before.)

Siffrin isn't afraid of the journey, the intro makes that blatantly clear all on its own. This entire journey is, quite literally, the happiest Siffrin can ever remember being.

He doesn't want it to end.

The story ends when you save the damsel. She will reward the heroes (usually with a kiss, but this time with a hug), thank them for their efforts, and then the credits roll. If we want to stay here and be pedantic, we can pull examples out of our hats all day for this trope as old as time.

Euphrasie is the end, not just within the context of the game's individual story, but for its type of story. Pretty woman, trapped by the bad guy, last person to be saved, emotional importance to the protagonist, dramatically awaits the rescue by her dashing protagonist after giving her the magic ocarina blessing to give Mirabelle her Special Protagonist Power that makes her super special and immune to the bad guy.

Euphrasie also gets the addition of being the wise mentor, combining tropes a bit, though I don't think it's uncommon for mentor figures to be the kidnappees either, even if the example I'm thinking of first is Eyvel from Thracia 776. (And you see once again, that I am incapable of thinking outside of Fire Emblem comparisons.)

So, simply from her role alone, we expect her to be the story's natural conclusion, but the setting helps that point, too. It's the rooftop of the final dungeon. Very obvious location, yeah?

The game's structure also builds anticipation into meeting her. Here and there, you hear about her from Mirabelle. And, right before facing the King, that's when Mirabelle talks about Euphrasie in-depth, how Euphie should've been the chosen one. We've got a lot of ideas about Euphrasie now, we're thinking about her as we go into the final boss.

And Siffrin dies. Duh.

We're so close to the end, and it's torn away from us. We need to get to it, get to her. Finally get past the King to meet her.

She's the conclusion. And in this moment, she is the goal, too.

Speaking of the King, though --

The True Final Boss

As Siffrin faces the King again and again, they grow less scared. More jaded. If you die to him thrice (or play START AGAIN), you get the option to say "Let's just get right to it", and skip his entire monologue.

After all, you've beaten him once. You can do it again. So who cares about him, yeah? Facing him only gets easier and easier as the game progresses. The King may be scary still in some story aspects, but in gameplay? Not a chance.

ACT 4 doesn't end with him. It ends with her.

As Siffrin faces Euphrasie again and again -

(No, no, no, she could've answered your questions, why?!?)

(Even though you asked for something different at the start of this conversation...)

(WHY IS SHE REPEATING THE EXACT SAME THING?!?)

Siffrin (yelling4): "JUST TALK TO ME!!!

Talking to her again makes her scarier, because Siffrin may have gotten past the King, but he's never gotten past her. For all intents and purposes, Euphrasie is the final boss of the story.

Again, ACT 4 - Siffrin's deepest moment of despair, confirmation of ultimate failure, is her.

Speaking of final bosses...

They both cut a rather striking silhouette, don't they?

Yes, yes, islander theory, white hair. That's an in-universe theory though, but the point is, it does make them look similar. They both have long cascading white hair, they're both extremely tall. They are both similar yet different in appearance.

Euphrasie is rounded where the King is jagged, namely. Soft where he is imposing. But those similarities still remain. Contrasting figures that only enhance the similarities all the more.

(I felt utterly insane for seeing this, but. Do you see it. DO YOU??) (Like. Outside of any theory stuff, her being the only person to have white hair beside King and Siffrin, long white hair to boot, has thematic signifcance as well, yes?)

[Side note: Yes, it is utterly irrelevant here that insertdisc5 said her hair is dyed, because it is STILL a striking resemblance of character design that can be interpreted with symbolic meaning, thank you~)

The trangles.

Though she may overshadow the King as the Endpoint past ACT 2 in ISAT, she does not in START AGAIN.

In START AGAIN, the ending beyond does not exist, for all intents and purposes. The endpoint was pulled forward. Whereas ISAT Siffrin's true dread sets in after beating the King, in SASASAP, it does so in the break room right before facing him.

Or, well, the resignation.

In In Stars and Time:

Siffrin (fake1): "Hi." Siffrin (fake1): "You can start breaking down now." Euphrasie (sorry1): Breaking down...? What do you...

In Start Again:

(You wonder how everyone will die this time.) (Will the King beat them with Craft until they are no more?) (Will he freeze them in time, unable to move or breathe for all eternity?) (How will YOU meet your end?) (In blood and stars maybe... In tears and time perhaps...)

The natural acceptance that, (you can look at the title of this again) this is the end. That there is no getting past this. They are both the last obstacle that can never be overcome, between the games.

Hell, just COMPARE SAP's true ending to like, the end of ACT 4.

Siffrin awakens in the meadow. Everything was in vain. Everything was useless.

Siffrin finally, after a thousand loops or even more, beat the King. This is supposed to be the end, but it's not. So, this proves once and for all that there is no escape. They're trapped here forever.

They built it up for so long in their head that all they have to do is beat the King, and then the suffering's over.

And in ACT 4... Siffrin builds it up for so long in their head... All they have to do is ask the Head Housemaiden about Wish Craft. That's it. That's the answer! After that, it's the end! It'll be over! He just needs to do this one thing...

Loop (away1): ...Is that so? But, didn't you already-- Siffrin (unhinged1): "It is so!" Siffrin (unhinged1): "I might be able to break the loop, somehow!" Loop (away1): ... Siffrin (unhinged1): "You know, it might just be that I need to make everyone's wish come true! And everything will be back to normal!" Siffrin (unhinged1): "If I talk to her, she'll know, she'll be able to tell me what to do..." Siffrin (unhinged4): "If I can just talk to her...!"

And is wrong, of course. They wake up in the meadow and despair. So, this proves once and for all that there is no escape. They're trapped here forever.

Siffrin: "Or, or does it mean-- It means--" Siffrin: "It means I'm stuck here for good, aren't I?" Siffrin: "Forever?" Loop: ... Loop: . . . (. . .) Siffrin: (No.) "You think I'm stuck here forever."

It's the exact same mindset with different characters representing the end point. The parallel becomes even more evident in that Siffrin's very last manic shot at victory is the exact thing that proved Loop's failure - supposing that the King is the true end point.

Yet it's also different, in what these two characters represent.

The King is very much a representation of the past. His fate in ACT 5 ultimately proves what it means to refuse to let go - being frozen in time is both a metaphor and very literal. He's stuck in the past, by choice. He could've lived and chosen to embrace Vaugarde and move on, but he didn't.

Y'know, he's a bad end Siffrin, metaphorically (albeit not literally. Narrative mirrors and all.) He's what Siffrin would end up like if they never learned their lesson. If they keep refusing to let go of the past... and embrace the future.

Euphrasie's Agency and lack thereof

To Siffrin, there is no future. They can't conceive of what happens after this journey. So, the character marking the endpoint of the journey, and the start of a new chapter in Siffrin's life, cannot see a future either.

It's... fascinating, to me. How Euphrasie is a vessel of Siffrin's insecurities by force. Siffrin's Wish has taken hold of her. It's using her as a stop, on purpose.

Odile (worried2): Because... Talking to you... Means our journey to save Vaugarde is really over, isn't it? Odile (gimme1): And for you, Siffrin, it also meant all of us going our separate ways, doesn't it? Isabeau (angry1): The very thing the loops were trying to stop...

(Points at my first point about Euphrasie being the Damsel, and thus the natural endpoint of any given RPG. Hey. Hey do you see how obvious this is yet.)

Euphrasie seems to have some sort of ability to feel Wish Craft, or the Universe, or Change, or whatever. She knows what her role in this play is, most of the time. "I can feel it! We both know this! It's all over when you talk to me!"

(IT'S ALL OVER WHEN YOU TALK TO HER.)

What she says mirrors what Siffrin thinks about her. This becomes most obvious only in retrospect, looking once again at the ACT 4 finale.

Euphrasie always says the same thing, because she is the end and the end can neither change nor ever arrive, but she can only say something new in one circumstance.

Siffrin (angry4): (You just wish she would ANSWER YOU!!!!!!) "Now that you know, now that I know, you can fix it!!!" Euphrasie (ending3): . . . Euphrasie (ending3): Fix it?

When Siffrin wishes for her to. Her capability to act in new ways is directly controlled by Siffrin's desire. Since the entire loops are caused by their subconscious desire to stay with everyone, she fulfills the role of keeping everyone together.

Thinking back on what she says...

"I know you thought your quest was over, but it can't be."

Your quest. Yes, quest is also used in a general story context, especially in fantasy, but Quest has long since become a well-established term in video games of all stripes. Sidequests, Main quest, hey, isn't it weird how ISAT refers to all its storylines as quests?

Friendquests being the obvious example. Fetch Quest, Companion Quest, Tutorial Quest, Really? He doesn't need your help with a quest?

But outside of that... I know I just know these terms because of my script wizard activities, but every storyline is a quest. Kingquest. Loopquest. Friendquest.

There's any number of words that could be chosen ("journey" probably being most prominent) and yet she says quest. By using a term inoxerably tied to video games by this point, she's saying "I know you thought the game was over, but it can't be."

And see how the game uses glitched imagery and static to represent everything breaking down, both at the end of every loop, and in ACT 5. This imagery is just confusing and means nothing to the characters, but is very obvious if you are Playing A Game.

The fuzzy static of an old TV, the bars of screen corruption, random symbols in text, the distorted music like a malfunctioning cassette tape…

If I may be so bold as to harken back to one of my own previous essays... The timeloop is the game.

It all ends when you talk to her. Everything ends when you talk to her. The goddamn game ends when you talk to her for the last time.

I got a bit of track here from the point, which is- her agency.

As we've established, she functions as Siffrin's own stop, on purpose. She can only act independently when Siffrin wishes her to.

And her not doing so is the beginning marker of everything breaking down in ACT 5, as well.

When Mirabelle interrupts her usual greeting speech, Euphrasie reacts differently immediately. She takes a look at Siffrin, diagnoses them with Craft overusage, and says they just need rest.

"But he'll be fine, now that the battle is over."

But, as usual, she can... sense what's happening.

"Every time I've tried to reach out and feel what's happening, I sense... Chaos..." "It feels like something is... Rotting..."

Mirabelle: "...?" Isabeau: "Rotting...?" Euphrasie: "I know you thought your quest was over, but it can't be! Something's broken, something's failing, rotting!"

She even skips back and forwards between all her different lines, everything Siffrin expects of her and has memorized by now, when we've seen that she was acting differently just a moment before.

It's Siffrin's wish kicking in again that marks the final straw once more, their clashing desire to stay in the loop against his desparate will to escape, resulting in Euphrasie being torn between who she actually is (acting new! moving forward!) against what Siffrin needs her to be.

(you're still stuck here) (but isn't it fine?) (eternity is within your grasp)

Mentioning eternity even harkens back both to the King ("I just want eternity.") AND the ACT 4 ending ("To know you'll be trapped for all eternity, Siffrin... I am so sorry!!!").

Again, like, Euphrasie's agency being torn from her, falling back into that old pattern, is what marks Siffrin realizing he's been wishing for eternity this entire time. It's written on the wall all over ACT 4.

Like, literally, textually, if you choose to pray to the intact Change God statue in ACT 4, Siffrin's prayer is "(You wish for eternity.)"

Because in the course of all these loops, Siffrin has been denying everyone's agency. Euphrasie is just the most prominent example. In ACT 5, by wishing for eternity, what Siffrin has (accidentally) forced onto Euphrasie all this time, he is trying to force onto everyone.

Whether or not Euphrasie is allowed to be a person is a direct marker of Siffrin's ability to escape the loop. It's only over when she's allowed to be free.

Euphrasie is the first person in the ending to mention going home.

"Finally, you'll all be able to go home!!!"

But in ACT 6, she doesn't. She doesn't mention going home at all. Instead, she tells everyone a new story. One Siffrin's never heard before.

Allowing Euphrasie to be free turns her back into the symbol of change that she's supposed to be. I'm repeating myself, but it truly is her change that is the definite, 100% sure marker that Siffrin is free, too. That the future is here.

Why are circles a symbol of change, anyway?

In me saying, Euphrasie symbolized stagnation, until Siffrin allows her to stand for the future again, it is irony. It is immense irony that the Head Housemaiden of Change Itself turns into a symbol of endings and stagnation through Siffrin's denial.

And, on the topic of irony, I ask you:

When the hell are circles a symbol of change???

You know. Circles. The things that famously represent cycles (wow, wonder if those words are related), repetition, infinity and eternity.

Isn't that weird. Isn't that ironic. The entire symbology of the House of Change is supposed to represent, well, Change, but just amounts to representing cycles (yknow, THE LOOPS. LITERAL TIME CYCLES.) through the recontextualization of Siffrin's experience with them.

Even the Change God doesn't oppose the time loops, instead being excited for how Siffrin changes as everything else stays the same.

The circle symbol is a witty act of irony from a design standpoint, and one I must only applaud, because why the hell didn't I see that sooner.

No, like, for real. If anybody knows some real life religion or culture where circles represent change and new beginnings instead of revolutions or the turn of seasons or the cycle of life and all that stuff. Please do tell me about it? I'm not omnipotent.

But generally, the irony of Euphrasie carries forward into the irony of the Change religion as in-universe these are symbols of change, but out of universe, to us, the players, they're symbols of repetition. Just like how to everybody else Euphie is a change, but to Siffrin she is stagnation. (Re: my other essay where I compare Siffrin to a video game player and the timeloops to a video game and I go on a whole metanarrative tangent.)

This plays into the metanarrative! Making meaning to the characters and to us incongruent! And it's cool as fuck, what can I say.

To cap off, let's compare what she says in every normal loop, and ACT 6, won't we?

Euphrasie (smiling4): Finally, you'll all be able to go home!!! Euphrasie (smiling3): If there's anything the House of Dormont can do to thank you... Please do not hesitate. Euphrasie (thankyou1): But for now... Bask in the feeling of a job well done!!!

And, in ACT 6….

Euphrasie (smiling2): I'm sure you must have a lot to talk about with everyone. Euphrasie (smiling1): But be sure to talk to me when you're all done! Euphrasie (smiling4): So I can happily bless you and your companions' new journey!!!

A Plain Ol' Euphrasie Character Analysis

Heyo, that finishes my essay on Euphrasie's symbolic meaning about narrative and shit! But...

It feels kind of mean, to write so much about what her agency and lack thereof represent, without actually talking about who she is. I didn't mention that a lot, see, because it's not important. Because that part's not important to Siffrin, because during the timeloops, Siffrin doesn't see her as a person.

So. Let's talk about her! Who is she? What is she like? What does she do?

Personality

The Good and the Funny

She's really funny. I mean it. Generally, she loves to joke around, and she has this ojou-sama style "Ohoho~" laugh that I find utterly delightful.

Siffrin (tired2): "But you might know something about--" Euphrasie (smiling4): Ohohoho! Euphrasie (smiling4): Sorry, I know nothing until you talk to your friends! Euphrasie (smiling3): And quite honestly, it is a little funny to see you get steamed about this, ohoho!

So many things in this bit. This is from when you try to talk to her before all the others in a regular loop. The reason she doesn't talk back first is of course because of the whole Agency thing (see above), but also, it's funny for her to take the piss.

Yet her wanting Siffrin to talk to everyone else first also shows that she's a very considerate person! This is The Saviours' Big Moment, and she is dying to talk to Mirabelle's new friends, but she doesn't want to take away from that. She's gonna give them her moment, and only butt in once all the hugs and tears and cheers have been had.

You can see this in ACT 5, too. She doesn't pass out or anything when Siffrin smacks her away, she just recognizes that her presence is upsetting to Siffrin, she doesn't know them or their problems, so she's gonna step back and let them figure it out themselves.

Euphrasie (smiling4): Ohohoho! Don't worry about me, everyone! Mirabelle (awawa1): H-Head Housemaiden! You're okay!!! Euphrasie (smiling3): I am! I was staying away for a little bit. Euphrasie (thankyou1): You all seemed like you needed to talk, so I was patiently waiting for you all to finish your conversation! Bonnie (serious1): That's very considerate of you. Isabeau (hahaha1): It IS very considerate of you!

She even during the hand holding scene is SO considerate that she doesn't speak up and include herself until Odile asks her to join in. Which might be a bit much, actually.

Odile (lol2): Fine. Let's hold hands, then. (Odile takes Bonnie's hand.) Odile (yeah1): Head Housemaiden? Euphrasie (thankyou1): Oh! Yes, of course!

That lil "Oh!" showing she's surprised to be adressed and included in this conversation.

Anyways, the previous exchange also gives us two OTHER delightful facts about her.

Euphrasie (smiling3): I haven't had this much fun since reading the last issue of "The Cursing of Château Castle"!!!

Meaning:

She's a bit of an adrenaline junkie, and considers getting slapped across the room "fun"

The coveted last issue of Cursing of Chateau Castle in the pottery room is hers.

Delightful woman. I love her.

She's also pretty frank! She talks a lot in snappy phrases and witticisms. She's kind and patient, for one, but really not afraid to mince words.

Euphrasie (smiling4): I thought we all knew that the Change God is a pretty lazy deity! Bonnie (wait1): Wow... Odile (urgh1): Isn't that a sacrilegious thing to say...?

Really makes me like her all the more that secondhand, she comes across as graceful, larger than life, almost, and then she simply doesn't care all that much about propriety and what someone of her station is actually supposed to be like. It really fits in with the Change Belief and the ethos of being true to yourself that she doesn't bend herself like that.

I'll also continue to be delighted that she described the King defeating her as knowing that "[she] was toast", just, she's just so casual.

Guilt and Responsibility

In more serious matters. The guilttttttt.

Yeah, she's casual, but she still obviously puts a lot of focus on her responsibility to the people of the House, of Dormont. We know that she was preparing for the King to arrive. She was studying Wish Craft, she was contemplating counter measures. She was making charts of who wished what to figure out whether this could stop him.

(...The Head Housemaiden...) (She's the one who wrote this. She knows about Wish Craft.) (She knew something was wrong, this whole time.) (She might know... How to...)

There's a degree of paranoia evident that we don't see in any of her time onscreen, but you can wonder what it says about a woman to have a deadly rock trap in front of her office.

AND she doesn't have her key out in the open, she has it taped to the underside of her desk drawer. Not an infallible hiding spot, but still hidden, and not just stored.

The other people in the House were all also revealed to be the ones locking doors in the party's path, hoping that it would stop the King.

Bonnie (sad1): . . .You know, I was wondering... Bonnie (sulk2): Like, the King clearly closed this door, and put the Tears in our way... Bonnie (sad1): But the... But the locked doors, weren't they... Mirabelle (sad2): ... Odile (dotdotdot2): Yes... We were wrong. Odile (dotdotdot1): They were most likely locked by residents of the House.

Speaking of people hoping to stop the King, she has a mountain of notes on him in her office as well.

(Some notes about the King.) (The Head Housemaiden must've been looking for more information about him...)

She hid her key, trapped her door, and before that, gathered information on the King and how to counter him. So, let me ask, do you think she improvised her blessing?

Mirabelle (excited1): She's also a great Crafter! She always creates wonderful items that makes everyone's lives easer! Mirabelle (awkward2): She taught me so much... Most of the Craft skills I know, I learned from her.

She's a skilled Crafter to boot, eh?

Looking at this, I don't really think so. Beneath that jolly front, she is a logical and pragmatic woman. Looking at her ability to specifically counter the King's Curse in context of how much we know she prepared for his arrival, I believe she prepped this blessing beforehand. Whether she actually finished it, I don't know, but she had to pick Mirabelle as a subject for it quickly and under duress.

Mirabelle wasn't the ideal choice. She was the logical choice.

Euphrasie (smiling3): Well, I only had the strength to bless one person, and I was already toast, and you were almost out of the House when the King attacked... Euphrasie (smiling3): So, really, you were the only logical choice!

There are some more emotional reasons for the pick, which I'll go into later when talking about Mira, but, still. She mentions this first, before going into Mirabelle's virtues as a person.

Plus, Claude (who will also get a section later), is the person closest to the King and Euphie. She's got the Secret Ingredient for the bomb on her, and had obviously been working on making a Craft Bomb beforehand, as discovered by the gizmo gadget in her room.

Combined, we can surmise that Euphie and Claude were both making different preparations to counter the King, with Euphie focusing on Craft both by studying Wish Craft and working on a Craft to nullify the King's Curse, whereas Claude just worked on a bomb to blow him the fuck up.

Euphrasie was, simply put, working to protect the people she cared for. It's her responsibility.

And she failed.

LET'S TALK ABOUT HER GUILT!!! WOOOO!!!!

When you talk to the people in Dormont during Loopquest, some of them mention the Head Housemaiden also asking them about their wishes, but none of them know why. This implies that Euphrasie was covert in her research, likely not sharing her information either because she was unsure of its verity, or to not cause undue panic. The only other person we see with less than impromptu countermeasures is, after all, literally just Euphrasie's girlfriend, who would be the number one person Euphie would confide in about this stuff.

Even then, though, there is no concrete evidence that she did confide in Claude, outside of Claude preparing the bomb, which is circumstantial at best. Really, did she not have any issues with Siffrin's treatment of her in ACT 5, or did she just swallow it down out of pragmatism?

Can we be sure that it's sincere, when she brushes off Siffrin's worry for her?

Siffrin (US_guilty2): "You said the things you always say when I come and talk to you." Siffrin (US_guilty2): "About how the world is rotting." Siffrin (US_sad1): "And you can't do anything to help." Euphrasie (sorry3): Hm... Euphrasie (smiling4): Interesting! I don't feel like saying it now, though! Euphrasie (smiling1): Or at all! The wind feels nice and fresh. Euphrasie (smiling4): It just feels like a beautiful day, doesn't it?

After all, in the loops themselves... She's the first to notice it, every time. She knows, deep within her bones, that something's wrong, and that it's her fault.

It's especially potent symbolically, that the phrase she never gets to finish is "I hope you can learn to forgive us."

Which is a phrase that received a slight change from its comic counterpart:

"I hope you can learn to forgive me."

Regardless of the me versus us, she, with the most intimate knowledge of Wish Craft right next to the King, directed the people of Vaugarde's wish, and knows that Siffrin ended up as the Wish's subject. She can't know that this is a side effect of Siffrin's wish being entangled with her own, but she does know her own wish is involved.

She starts crying. She's disraught. She breaks down.

Euphrasie (ending2): I can't fix it on my own, not before it all ends... If only I had noticed sooner!!! Euphrasie (ending1): I should've seen it, prevented it!!!

She says that she should have seen this and prevented it. It was her responsibility to do this, and she failed.

Euphrasie (ending2): It's my fault that you have to suffer like this.

Again, she was the only one who knew, the only one who could have ever possibly had any shot of defeating the King before things got too bad. But she fucked up, he stormed in before she could prepare properly, and she squarely lost whatever confrontation might've occured between her and the King.

Euphrasie: Something goes wrong, every time!!! Euphrasie: If you're here now, asking about Wish Craft, then something must be wrong, isn't it? This isn't the first time you've gotten this far, isn't it?!? Euphrasie: It shouldn't be like this... Why does time loop back, even though the King has been defeated?!? Euphrasie: The only answer I can find... Is it's because we did it wrong.

She's responsible, pragmatic to the point of paranoia, and it wasn't enough. Of course she feels guilt. A lot of it. After all, she believes that she personally has doomed someone to eternal stagnation. That she has caused all of Vaugarde to be trapped, and for one person to suffer for it. That she caused all of Siffrin's suffering.

It's so odd to me that she manages to immediately grasp that Siffrin is in a timeloop. It could be Siffrin's wish using her as a mouthpiece, it could be that weird innate connection to the Universe she seems to have, it could be her own immediate deduction on the logic of Wish Craft, or it could be a combination of all three.

But point is, she recognizes Siffrin's looping without having to ever be told about it. And I do not think that goes away, even in ACT 5 & 6. It's just not the time and place for her to speak on her own struggles right now, not when Siffrin is finally getting the help that she cannot provide. Not when she can recognize that she is the conductor of everything that just occured, which, again, nearly broke the entire work.

Euphrasie: If only... If only we had fought back against the King, instead! If only we didn't wish for such a thing! Euphrasie: If only I knew this would happen, if I had noticed it sooner, I would never have let people wish at all!!! Euphrasie: To know you'll be trapped for all eternity, Siffrin... I am so sorry!!! Euphrasie: It's our fault, all of Vaugarde, that you have to suffer like this!!!

She gathered her intel and made her bet. She just made the wrong one.

(Yet what she never seems to recognize is that this had to happen. That without the timeloops, yeah, the King wouldn't have been defeated! The country would have been frozen!)

(But that doesn't mean anything, does it. When she had to take away Change Itself from some innocent bystander.)

Relationships

Anyways in more cheerful news let's look at the two most important people to Euphrasie we know of.

Mirabelle

Mirabelle!! The Meeble!! Euphrasie is super important to Mirabelle, and Mirabelle, in turn, is super important to Euphrasie.

From the third snack break:

Mirabelle (sad2): The Head Housemaiden... She's such a wonderful person. Mirabelle (sad2): She helped me out so much! I couldn't do anything before I came to the House, I could barely sew my own clothes, and she helped me, she taught me... Mirabelle (sad2): I wouldn't be the person I am without her! Mirabelle (sad2): And when the King attacked...  She protected me. Mirabelle (sad2): Everyone... Everyone was being frozen in time around me... Mirabelle (sad4): And the Head Housemaiden made sure I could escape! Made sure I lived!!! Mirabelle (sad4): She gave me her blessing...!!!

Similarly to some of the other older Housemaidens, Euphrasie had a big part in raising Mirabelle (which does imply some things about Mirabelle's past, but that's not the point right now). We don't know the exact sequence of events for Mirabelle escaping (outside of Mirabelle happening to be closest to the door), but Mirabelle adds some action to Euphrasie during whatever happened, saying Euphrasie "protected her".

From Euphie's office:

Mirabelle (sad2): But the King was too strong, and attacked out of nowhere, and now... I don't know what happened to her. Mirabelle (sad2): When I fled the House... The King might've already... ...

They weren't in the same room, Mirabelle doesn't even know what exactly happened to her, but still says Euphie protected her, and obviously shows great esteem for her all around.

Mirabelle just loves Euphie so much, man!

Euphrasie (sorry3): And, Housemaiden Mirabelle... Euphrasie (smiling1): You have always been the most hardworking Housemaiden in the House. Always striving to learn new things. To better yourself. Euphrasie (smiling2): Always meeting challenges head on, even if you didn't think you'd succeed. Euphrasie (smiling3): You were the only logical choice, yes, but you were also the only RIGHT choice! Mirabelle (sad2): Head Housemaiden... Mirabelle (gentle1): No, Euphrasie... Thank you!!!

Mirabelle credits Euphrasie for the person she is today, but Euphrasie turns that back and gives credit to Mirabelle's own strengths. It's just, very cute. She might have taught Mirabelle her literal skills, but the determination and bravery were all Mirabelle's own.

This scene also demonstrates that the bond goes both ways. Euphie loves Mira right on back, and considers Mira to be "stinking cute!" which even the Change God Themself agrees with. She's so proud of Mira!

I also wanna point to the switch from Mira using Euphie's title, to then using Euphie's name after Euphie reaffirms how proud she is of Mira. Throughout the entire adventure, Mirabelle's unwitting deception (that she had been blessed by the Change God instead of by Euphie) had weighed down on her, and Mirabelle kept questioning why she was the one who had to go on this journey, when Euphrasie would have been so much better at it. Like she stole Euphie's spot.

I think that bled into the relationship, here, that she kept imagining Euphrasie being disappointed in her, so she uses the title to make some distance to that mental image. It shows off how distant and unreachable Euphrasie is.

(It's also just a good show of politeness from Mirabelle. Like, if I'm talking to my mother, I'll call her Mama, but if I am talking about her to someone else, I'll say "my mother", as demonstrated by the first part of this sentence.)

Lastly, really minor thing: apparently, Euphrasie is looking into dual Craft types! That's one of the random papers on her desk.

(It's an essay about the 3.5% of people who are dual Craft types users, like Mirabelle.)

That makes me think she started reading on it because of Mirabelle, which is cute.

Generally, the basis of their relationship is very much mentor-student, yet it goes much deeper than that with Euphrasie's big role in raising Mirabelle. TLDR: they love each other, your honor. Fambly.

Claude

Second on the agenda, Mirabelle's roommate, Claude!

Lookin at Claude. It's obvious they're romantically involved. The first hint is the letter on Euphie's desk, of course, but that could imply this is a recent situation, too.

(It's a lovely, cheesy, mushy love letter from someone named Claude.)

Except, well, no. The letter isn't sealed, otherwise Siffrin wouldn't be able to pick it up and skim it if they had to open it first. It was already open, meaning Euphrasie already read it.

And, in Act 6:

Claude: Okay! We'll come and say hi later, then. I'll need to go and plant a big kiss on Euphie, anyway.

Claude mentions how she has to give Euphie a big kiss, which you wouldn't exactly do with someone you only just confessed to. Meaning the relationship has been ongoing for a while now, and also implying that Claude still writes love letters to Euphie, or that Euphie kept Claude's initial confession on her desk, both options make them big saps, which is really cute.

Also also, Claude's the only one to call Euphie Euphie, an endearing nickname.

I also touched on before how Claude was the only one to also prepare for the King's attack by making the bomb, and...

Mirabelle (sad1): I... used to think she should've become a Defender, because she was always helping people, and trying out weird experiments to solve their problems... Mirabelle (sad2): And she would always, ALWAYS help the Head Housemaiden with hers. Mirabelle (sad2): Always trying new ways to organize her desk... To help her finish tasks... To make sure she'd get some free time... Mirabelle (sad2): She'd do it with a smug smile, saying it wasn't that big of a deal, that she'd do it for anyone, but... Mirabelle (sad2): If she knew that the Head Housemaiden was in danger... She would've ran anywhere, everywhere, so she could help her. Mirabelle (sad2): Not only because the Head Housemaiden would've solved anything, would've beaten the King if she could, but because... Mirabelle (sad3): Because... Mirabelle (sad3): . . . Mirabelle (sad3): If Claude is this far into the House, she must've... tried to stop the King herself, so he wouldn't get to the Head Housemaiden.

Mirabelle trails off on that last "because" concerning Claude's motivation to go rushing to Euphrasie, and I think, considering the love letters, we can guess what that was. It's quite evident from Mirabelle's words that the two are super close. "[t]hat she'd do it for anyone, but... If she knew the Head Housemaiden was in danger... She would've ran anywhere, everywhere, so she could help her."

Mirabelle's framing of it reveals that Claude wouldn't do those things for just anyone. That Euphrasie is special to her.

In both ISAT and SASASAP, Claude is the last frozen NPC you find, the closest to the King. Her bomb wasn't finished, but it's telling that Claude carries the Secret Ingredient on her person. Whatever it is, she probably nabbed it from her room and set out to help Euphrasie in her fight against the King any way she could.

I guess the summary here is more simple, but the devotion on display is amazing. Like, again, the bomb wasn't done, Claude had NO weapons to speak of, but came rushing in anyway, because Euphrasie was in danger. She loves her girlfriend so much!! They're mushy and silly and affectionate, and, if Claude is the one organizing Euphie's desk, did Claude keep her love letter on display just to show off? Again, it's. It's cute! It's a lot of environmental storytelling for an NPC!!

Wah. Clauphie are so cute. We don't see Euphrasie talk about Claude at all (because Euphrasie does have more uhhh pressing things to worry about), but just, from the letter on the desk, it's gotta be reciprocated.

There's just so much to speculate about how things went down when the King "attacked out of nowhere", because Euphrasie is at the top of the House. Even when the King is defeated and the House returns to normal, it's still the roof. So, did she draw him up there on purpose to give everyone else time to escape?

I personally think Euphrasie was probably frozen first, with Claude rushing in second. So she did hold him off as long as she could, and that sacrifice allowed Mirabelle to escape in the first place. Nothing would've been possible without her. Euphie feels so much guilt for what she's done, but Mirabelle and Siffrin would not have suceeded without her, okay. She's instrumental.

Which is less about Claude and more about Euphrasie's importance, but hey, this is my essay, and I can be as uncoordinated as I want.

The Job

Last thing I wanna touch on!! Just a fun lil thing.

What the hell is a Head Housemaiden anyway?

Mirabelle and Isabeau react scandalized at the notion of people sharing shrines, so it seems unlikely that the House functions anything like a church at all. Every Housemaiden has a personalized figure of the Change God that they pray to in private, as we see from Mirabelle talking about them, in addition to basically every room in the House having one, down to people making more in pottery class. So, it's suuuper unlikely that the Head Housemaiden has much of a religious function. Spreading the good word, maybe, but actually leading prayer? No way.

Odile (wonder1): We make shrines for our gods, and everyone shares the shrines. Isabeau (huhwah1): SHARING GODS............

She seems to have a much more logistical function, being more like. The manager of the House. This is a files thing, but the map for her room is actually called "admin". She also has a lot of quote unquote boring administrative papers on her desk that Siffrin doesn't care about. Makes one wonder how the position is selected, whether one is elected into the office, or it's just whoever wants to do the paperwork to keep the House running.

(It looks like boring administrative papers.) (It's a petition to serve more bread at lunch.)

Mirabelle (happy1): She manages the House and makes sure everyone is happy and fulfilled! She organizes a lot of events too!

Among things such as "what to serve at lunch" and "organizing events", she's more like the headmaster of a community college, especially considering how heavy the House just resembles a community center. Less of a religious institution, more just a place to host fun classes and a living space for all who need it.

It's hard to tell whether Euphie demands a lot of respect due to her person and office, or it's just Mirabelle specifically that respects her most, since most of what we know of the House and its people is filtered through Mirabelle's perspective.

Speculation!

It's headcanon time, babey.

Yup, after straying close to actual facts for so long, I wanna get speculative. You're probably already gonna know islander theory. (And if you don't, go read that. This is like, the third time I linked it.)

But I wanna like, talk about how that influences how I read Euphrasie a lot!! I didn't go in-depth with that aspect in the og theory post but you can swear to any god you believe in that I've thought so so much how this enhances other aspects of who she is and stands for and also SHOUTOUT TO OCEAN!!! WHO ALSO THINKS ABOUT THIS SO MUCH!!! And again in fact thought about all of this before I did and is also someone who talk about excessively about this. AND ALSO GOT TO PREVIEW A GOOD CHUNK OF THIS ESSAY and motivated me to finish this eheh.

Anways! I wanna circle back to some points here first!

That whole past vs future thing

You might recall how I compared Euphie and the King a lot, esp between their respective roles in ISAT and SASASAP being pretty identical. And I said the King represents the past, as he is literally frozen in time, choosing to remember what he has lost instead of living in the present, and Euphrasie represents the future, which can only arrive when she is permitted to be her own person!

So yeah, uh, how's that feel when you suppose that they're from the same country, and thus, suffered the same loss.

Reading Euphrasie with this HC in mind opens up a very neat second parallel to Siffrin. King is someone who can't let go of the country, and Siffrin is torn between not wanting to let go and knowing they have to. So to put them up against someone who has let go is just pretty nifty.

Euphrasie is content with her life and the culture she lives in, even being a pillar of the community! Whereas King is a 'bad end' counterpart, Euphie, in her Showing The Future Function, is the 'good end' counterpart for that, showing that someone in Siffrin's situation can overcome their grief and find new fulfillment.

The End

So! That's everything I got on Euphrasie! She represents The End, but just as you gotta break an egg to make an omelette, she represents new beginnings, too. Her agency and freedom are change itself.

Mirabelle (hm3): It's to remind us that before changing, we must stop and think about what will be irreparably destroyed. Mirabelle (hm1): But destruction is just a part of change, and we must accept it... Isabeau (brag1): Yeah! It'd be awful to keep yourself from becoming a person you feel comfortable with just because it would upset someone else. Odile (huh1): Huh... That's a harsher belief than I thought.

In conclusion, I love her. This has been 7.4k words. Good night!

[leiawritesstories]

Stick Season (Prologue)

hey everyone! this is the introduction to a fic that I'm planning to post for Rowaelin Month! it got really out of hand lol so I'm splitting it into a few parts. inspired by "Stick Season" by Noah Kahan. hope you enjoy! :))

Word count: 757

Warnings: none ;)

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

Three years ago

Aelin had to force herself to keep ahold of the steering wheel even as laughter-tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes. “Gods, Ro, I’m driving! You’re gonna make me pee myself!” 

“I’ll be doing much more than that, Fireheart,” her boyfriend purred, his demeanor switching from hilarity to sultry promise in the blink of an eye. Though he was on the other end of the phone and she couldn’t actually see him, Aelin could picture the precise tilt of his wicked grin, the precise gleam of the spark in his deep pine eyes. 

“You’re incorrigible.” She caught her breath, firmly focusing on the highway. “I’m nearly there, buzzard. You shouldn’t have any problems keeping it in your pants for another twenty minutes, hmm?” 

His soft groan rumbled through her phone. “You could make it in fifteen minutes if you speed.” 

She snorted. “It’s December, Ro, and I’ve lived in Vermont all my life. I’m not stupid enough to try and speed on winter roads.” 

“Yeah.” He inhaled softly, about to say something else, when another incoming call buzzed across Aelin’s screen. 

“Shit,” she swore. “Ro, it’s my mom, I have to take this. I’ll call you back in a few minutes, I promise. Love you.” 

“Love you,” he returned, affectionately. 

She hung up and accepted her mom’s call. “Hi.” 

“Darling.” Evalin Ashryver’s refined accent filled the front of Aelin’s car. “You must be nearly home by now, yes?” 

“Yes, I’m about twelve minutes away from Rowan’s exit.” She glanced at the nearest exit sign. “I’m going to swing by his house for a few minutes before I–”

“You’re going to your boyfriend’s house before your own home?” Evalin didn’t even try to hide her disapproval. 

“I promise it will only be a quick stop to say hello and reassure Rowan that I haven’t died.” In return to her mother’s disdain, Aelin made no effort to muffle her sarcasm. 

“Watch your tone, young lady.” Evalin’s voice was as frosty as the December temperature. “I would be lying if I said I don’t mind you putting your own family second.” Without waiting for a response, she sniffed. “Hopefully we’ll see you by dinnertime, Aelin.”

Guilt wrapped its oily, barbed tendrils around Aelin’s heart and squeezed, sending flashes of thick, ugly emotion through her body. She gripped tightly to her composure, took a few deep breaths, and redialed Rowan. 

He picked up on the first ring. “That was quick.” 

“You know how Mom is,” Aelin joked. “She’s never seen a conversation she can’t cut short.” 

Rowan coughed out a laugh. “She wants you to go home first, doesn’t she?” 

“Yeah.” Aelin sighed. “Honestly, I don’t understand her phobia; she knows full well that I mean it when I say I’m just stopping for a few minutes.” Silence fell for a moment. “You know you mean more than anything to me, Ro. More than all the distance between our houses.” 

“Yeah, all ten miles,” he chuckled. “You must be just about at the exit now, right?” 

She glanced out the window. “Mhmm, it’s coming up in a couple minutes, and…” Her voice trailed off, drowned out by the discordant echo of her mother’s words. You put your own family second. Disappointing. Selfish.We hardly even see you, Aelin.

Rowan’s exit approached, the familiar numbers tugging on every string of Aelin’s heart. Tears fogged up her vision, but she blinked them away despite her throat constricting again. 

“Fireheart?” Rowan’s voice was so warm, so familiar, so concerned. “Are you still there?” 

A sob clawed its way out of her throat. “I’m…I’m so sorry,” she croaked. Her weak, traitorous voice cracked on the last syllable. Blindly, she reached over and ended the call, cutting Rowan off before he’d even formed coherent words. 

She drove past his exit, only daring to look into her rearview mirror when she was far enough past the sign that the numbers were barely visible, and watched the sign fade away. Through the hazy, conflicted mess of heartbreak, anguish, guilt, and tears clouding her senses, Aelin let muscle memory take over and guide her off the freeway at the next exit and drive down another country road until she was back in her charming little hometown. 

She hadn’t seen Rowan waiting in his battered old green pickup in the shoulder of his exit, eyes locked on the highway, phone still glued to his ear, staring in heartbroken disbelief as the woman he loved so deeply drove straight past him without a single look back.

~~~

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[krytus]

how would u fix the show!

thank you for this completely unprompted question

okay so first i would literally Start w harrow and viren killing thunder the dragon. because that is the inciting incident. of the show. like throw out all the exposition and Show us the conflict between humans and elves. that s3 flashback scene could work as an introduction scene with some tweaking. harrow kills the dragon and hes like yayyy revenge but then viren pushes. the first thing viren should do on screen is manipulate his best friend into doing something terrible. prologue over.

skip a few days forward whateverrr introduce the princes. flesh our their relationship w their dad. maybe the first thing he does when he gets back from his Murder is tell them he did it for their mother. maybe he's acting a bit different now a bit distant. but the relationship between harrow and his sons should be like. actually thematically important? instead of. not.

harrow tries to shield his sons from the truth of what he did he tries to be the same man but theres a hint of that, my god what have i done? he did something terrible and bold. have his people be like. happy their queen is avenged but also like. expecting retaliation. compare killing thunder to humans first learning dark magic. great power heavy price. viren being like literallyyyy dont worry about it. elf racist. god i would make viren so elf racist but couch it in like. he wants what was taken from them -- positions himself as the avenger of humanity the way harrow avenged sarai. what we're doing is right. they started this. etc etc. dont make all the adult characters so fucking stupid and useless. have harrow face some friction from his advisors/councilors. but he's still the king. oh and throw in his notions of wanting to be a fair + just king. how do his actions fit into that childish dream? they dont. facing his flaws.

anyways okay all that happens. one, two episodes max we get to know the human side of the conflict. and thennn stinger for the end of that first arc is well. elves r done being sad its time to get revengeeee. instead of a group assassination, its just rayla and runaan. two person team bc strength isnt in numbers its a stealth mission. sneak in slaughter their targets get back. an eye for an eye. give rayla that motivation of wanting to avenge her cowardly parents/their failure. runaan being like this isnt a childs game this is for serious. and rayla being like yeah im not a kid + wanting to prove herself too. okay two man team we can still throw in rayla being unable to kill one guy. and that kinda ruins the mission. now theres tension. who do you root for? no ones doing the right thing. theyre all being terrible.

and then maybe the princes have a fight w their father their king. callum not wanting to seem ungrateful for all he's been given but ezran thinking what his father did was wrong. see he doesnt have that connection w his mother he was a baby when she died. but still being his mother's son and like she wouldnt have wanted you to do that. in the binary world of good and evil that exists in a ten year old's head, killing someone for something as abstract as revenge is evil. especially if you develop his bond w animals over humans.

okay so major turning point. rayla still sneaks into the palace alone runaan breaks away. the princes can still run away w her -- ezran being the one whos like. our dad did something wrong and i want to fix it. callum coming along to protect his brother. they leave Knowing how its going to destroy their father but that relationships tainted now. hes not the man they thought he was. but theyre going to go to the elves and prove that not all humans are bad. woefully childish dream, like wanting to be a good and just king.

anyways ok so the princes disappear. runaan fails and gets captured. viren realizes the egg is gone and who likely took it. urges harrow to find them bc he wants his prize back. he has plans. harow being like yeah obvs im sending my best to get my boys back.

okay and then you knowww. but big thing for me. for ME. is developing the fallout between viren and harrow because viren Wants the war. he needs the war. he needs to prove he is special and right. and harrow realizing he made a mistake. he chose death over life. becoming increasingly desperate to get his sons back. but at the end of it, he decides against escalation. he trusts his boys. he trusts their dreams.

and THERE. there. viren betrays him. harrow is going to do the right thing and viren wont allow him to be weak. and harrows like treason? you would kill your king? and virens like oh youre no use to me dead. i need you to see i was right + puts him in a coin (explicitly gives him a fate worse than death) and goes on trying to start a war w xadia. there. we have manipulator viren heroic harrow w agency a sense of urgency for the prince's mission and a conflict that's not easy to peg into good guys and bad guys. that took me what? a day to think of. tdp should have been good should have been nottt bad. amen

[tetsuski]

why try?

prologue

pairing : gojo satoru x fem!reader

genre : friends to lovers

warning : cursing (?), slow burn, mention of death

summary : summary : feelings are confusing neither you nor gojo knows how to deal with them. but what will happen if two broken souls fall for each other?

a/n : i rewrite the prologue because i feel like the first version aren't really good to be the first character introduction .

read the first version here

mlist next

what the fuck?

"L/N Y/N WAKE THE FUCK UP!!" you hear a familiar voice shouting and banging against your door it's still 6am on a saturday why would anyone come visit you this early? sitting up from your bed and still trying to process what's going on

"L/n-chan~, i can sense that you're already awake now~" another voice butted in gojo satoru why the fuck is he here? and then the realization hits

shit

you promised your friends you're gonna help them train

you fall back on your bed flipped yourself over and scream into ur pillows not long after you leave your bed and starts to get ready

today marked one year of you being in jujutsu high

it means its been a year of you leaving the world you've ever known behind

almost everything from the past now gone.

you opened up your door looking up to two of your friends "geez what the hell took you so long?" kara asked you "good morning to you too, kara"

kara winston the girl you've known since you were five because she was the child of your mother's closest friends but you both grew apart since your mother's death.

and now here you are living in the same school with here after not seeing her for almost 8 years.

she's strong now her stance are tall she's everything you can never be.

there was never any bad blood between you two you both just simply grew apart.

or so you thought

but that doesn't matter cause right now she's here and you both are closer than ever.

"y/n-chann~ are you not gonna greet me a good morning too? ouch you've wounded my heart" gojo acting like he'soffended with his hands clutching on his chest "good morning, gojo" rolling your eyes.

gojo satoru the first time you met him was when you first step foot into this school it was pretty awkward knowing you were only 15 and he was a bit more cold when you first met.

a year ago

its the first day you came into the jujutsu high

you finally finished unpacking walking outside of your dorm trying to find the exit so your teacher can shows you around the school

but luck is not on your side today cause it was pouring rain and that leaves you stuck in an empty building or so you thought until you heard a faint footsteps echoing through the hallways

what was that?

you see a tall figure from the distance walking towards you.

you wanted to run but your whole body feel frozen its like your feet are stuck on the pavement.

as the figure become closer to you

"AAAHHHH!!" you screamed closing your eyes in fears

and nothing happened

slowly you opening up your eyes expecting something scary but instead you locked eyes with a boy about the same age as you wearing a sunglasses on looking at you confused "why the fuck did you screamed? do i look like a bad guy to you?"

thank fuck you thought to yourself

theres an obvious thick tension in the air "sooo... you come here often?" trying to make a small talk with the boy standing right in front of you "yeah im a student here" he answered dryly looking out to the window "cool cool cool cool" you murmured

you look at his side profile damn this boy is so pretty how can someone looks this pretty ? then someone interrupted your train of thoughts "stop staring at me. what the fuck do you want?" he asked sounding pissed.

you lean in a bit closer holding your own hands behind your back "oh sorry- i didn't mean to- i was just wondering... why are you wearing a sunglasses when its dark out?" tilting your head to the side staring up at him waiting for a reply from the white haired boy.

he felt heat creeping up to his cheeks what the fuck is he feeling? he's not used to this "none of your damn business" he turns around walking away from you making his way towards his own room leaving you all alone in the dark hallway

[yumeka36]

Frozen 2.5 - Prologue + Chapter 1

I’m literally shaking. I can’t believe this day has finally come.

I first began work on this project back in November, on Frozen 2′s anniversary to be precise, and have worked on it for countless hours since. My artist for the project, the talented @myrthena, has also been working hard on the above cover art and other illustrations. After tons of edits and re-readings, I can’t express how happy I am to finally share it with all of you!

Frozen 2.5 is my next big Frozen writing project. But unlike my previous one, Seek the Truth, which is an essay-style analysis book, Frozen 2.5 is a post-Frozen 2 fanfiction novel, created very much in the same vein as the official Frozen novels Dangerous Secrets and Forest of Shadows. Anyone who’s been following my posts for a while knows that I mostly do essay/editorial writing and have never had much interest in reading or writing fanfiction. But like any fan, I’m always playing out fanfiction stories in my head. I just never felt the need to write one out in full - until now. But before you get to reading the story, a quick introduction is in order:

I had two main goals while writing Frozen 2.5. First goal was to create a Frozen story that would be indistinguishable from something Disney would officially release as a feature-length film. I wanted fans, whether hardcore or casual, to read this novel and think, “Yeah, I could see Disney making this for the next Frozen movie.” Obviously, that means there’s nothing in the story that would warrant a rating beyond PG, but as anyone familiar with Disney movies knows, that certainly doesn’t mean the story can’t have drama, angst, and dark moments (which it does). And my other goal, and probably the more important one, was to create a story that appeals to a wide range of Frozen fans, especially fans who are having trouble imagining if fun, likable scenarios can still take place with the new direction Frozen 2 took for our beloved characters. With that in mind, even though I’m not well versed in the Frozen fanfic community, I’m pretty sure my story will have some similarities to others (the world of Frozen does lend itself easily to common headcanons and narrative ideas). But in spite of this, I’m hoping Frozen 2.5 has enough of my own unique touch as a writer, and die-hard Frozen fan, to be something very interesting, unpredictable, and overall enjoyable for fans of many ages and tastes.

I’m going to be releasing a new chapter of the story every 1-2 days, starting with the prologue plus chapter 1 today, and ending with chapter 7 (the final chapter) and the epilogue on April 11th. Each chapter will have an original illustration by myrthena as well. The entire 63K+-word novel is written already, so don’t worry about me getting writer’s block and not finishing it. I just need a little more time to compile the illustrations and do a final review.

The release schedule is below (I’ll try to stick as close to it as possible, though it may vary slightly). You can follow me here or on Twitter to be notified when the new chapters are available. You can also check the respective pages on FF.net and AO3 (linked at the end of this post):

Release Schedule:

-Sun. 3/28 (today): Prologue and Chapter 1

-Tue. 3/30: Chapter 2

-Fri. 4/2: Chapter 3

-Sun. 4/4: Chapter 4

-Tue. 4/6: Chapter 5

-Fri. 4/9: Chapter 6

-Sun. 4/11: Chapter 7 and Epilogue

For the final release on April 11th, I’ll also include a complete edition that has all the chapters and illustrations together in one pdf, including an afterword written by me (where I discuss some history and final thoughts on the project).

With all that said, please enjoy the prologue and chapter 1 linked below. I have poured my heart, soul, and every fiber of my being as a Frozen fan into this story!

-----

Story Summary: It’s been about half a year since the events of Frozen 2. Anna is adjusting well as queen of Arendelle, and Elsa has been making slow but steady progress with reconnecting the spirits with the Northuldra. And while both sisters, as well as Kristoff, have been trying hard to create a unity between Arendelle and Northuldra, decades of animosity is proving difficult to mend. However, the new status quo is interrupted when Anna receives a letter from a queen of an unknown kingdom - a queen who still thinks that Elsa is the queen of Arendelle. Our heroes soon get caught up in the mysterious plans and dark history of this strange kingdom and its enigmatic queen. Trusts are tested, courage must rise against danger, answers slowly come to light, and in the end, all sides must come together to overcome an impending threat.

The prologue and chapter 1 mostly reintroduce the characters and their current status, and have a lot of endearing Frohana moments. But there is foreshadowing of the calm before the storm...

*I recommend reading the PDF version since FF.net and AO3 have limitations (not a lot of font choices, can’t show all images, no distinction between prologue/epilogue and chapters, and FF.net doesn’t let me have a period in the title)*

*Read PDF version HERE (recommended)

*Read on FF.net HERE (it’s called “Frozen 2 5″ because FF.net doesn’t let you include periods in titles)

*Read on AO3 HERE (thanks to @wintermoonqueen for the invite)

[jokertrap-ran]

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Osborn’s 5✩ Inspiration: Interdigital Heartbeat [指间心音] Date Translation (Prologue)

"Hu? Looks like he's really waving at you. What now? Should I give you two some space?”

*Light and Night Master-list | Osborn’s Personal Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *This 5✩ Inspiration has 6 Endings!! *Osborn’s tag will be #For Night, For Freedom

The Bar Street lit up with its disarrayed ensemble of neon lights as night fell, the night scene revving to life.

Dragging Osborn with me, we made a mad dash down the street before coming to a stop at the entrance of a bar that had Seed’s poster plastered on it. I whipped out both of our tickets.

MC: Huff… Huff… Still 5 minutes late…

MC: I planned on coming here early to get a spot in the front row… I can’t believe this.

A couple of days ago, Gao Cheng and I had agreed to go watch Seed’s live performance together.

Although the band wasn’t well known, they’d been active for a long time now, performing in bars all over Guangqi City. Gao Cheng and I both loved the style of their music.

However, Gao Cheng had suddenly called in a few hours before the live performance was slated to start, citing that his pet had suddenly fallen ill and that he wouldn’t be able to come.

Thinking that it wouldn’t be all that fun going to a live performance alone, I suddenly remembered Osborn, who was an avid fan of music himself…

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

The small underground bar had cleared the area of all its tables and chairs, with many people packed into its cramped space.

After gaining entry, I pulled Osborn along and made my way to the front. Taking advantage of the break between the ending of the first song and the start of the next, I briefly did a simple introduction of all the band members.

MC: The last guy… He’s my favourite! He’s their keyboard player and also their leader, Liyuu!

MC: He’s especially talented! All the arrangements and lyrics that the band uses are all written by him!

Osborn raised an eyebrow as he looked at Liyuu, who was wearing a Camo T-Shirt, nodding at the fans with a smile on the stage, and back at me again. He nodded indifferently.

Osborn: Oh? That's your idol?

MC: Hmm… Not really? I just admire and look up to him!

MC: I’m the same as all these fans here. We’re all enamoured by his talents.

As soon as the words left my mouth, the two girls next to me screamed out loud with their hands cupped around their mouths, acting as make-shift trumpet amplifiers.

Fan A: AHH!! YOU ARE SO HOT, MY HUSBAND!!

Fan B: Liyuu BBY, I WANT YOUR BABIES!!

MC: Uh...

The slap to the face came way too suddenly, freezing the smile that had been on my face almost instantaneously. A look of understanding was displayed on Osborn’s face as he nodded pretentiously.

Osborn: Hm. Same like them? Okay, I get it now.

Osborn: So, what do you normally yell? Lemme hear.

MC: I don't! I really don't!

I hurriedly waved my hand, desperately trying to clear my name when I accidentally bumped into someone else and got a vehement glare in response.

MC: Sorry!

Osborn laughed, reaching an arm out to pull me closer.

Osborn: Okay, okay. I believe you.

It was then that the second song started up. We naturally put a halt to our conversation, focusing our attention on the music.

After a couple of songs, I couldn't help but feel like there was something different about today's performance. I tugged at Osborn's sleeve to explain.

MC: They normally sing catchier songs. I don't know why, but it looks like they're doing more of the emotional ones today.

He nodded lightly, calmly watching the stage.

Osborn: I like songs like these.

MC: Great!

The band members played freely on the stage as the spotlights shone at them, illuminating the glistening sweat on their foreheads. They'd occasionally divulge away from their scores to do an improvised segment, showing off their inspiration and the mutual tacit understanding they shared.

Emotions poured out of their music, infecting every member of the audience in the crowd before them and raising the excitement in the air into a crescendo over and over again…

During the encore, Liyuu stood up to thank the crowd from the bottom of his heart as the leader of the band.

And lastly, he ended it off with a bow. I saw him raise his hand to dab at the sides of his eyes, as if wiping away fallen tears.

MC: Oh no… I think I’m a tad moved…

Osborn purposely leaned down, getting in front of my face with a devilish smile on his face. He was clearly enjoying this.

Osborn: Oh? You're crying too? Lemme see.

MC: I'm not!

The live performance ended with a round of thunderous applause. The lights below the stage had turned back on, but the melody they’d played still resonated within my ears as if it didn’t want to dissipate just yet.

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

The audience started to disperse. Osborn had to reach out to hold onto me as I stood there in a daze, getting swept along with the bustling crowd.

Suddenly, I caught sight of Liyuu coming down the stairs at the side of the stage from the corner of my eye. He waved in our direction. Surprised, I couldn't help but tug Osborn over.

MC: Huh? Am I hallucinating, or is he actually waving at me…?

Osborn waggled his brows playfully at me again as he purposely spoke provocatively.

Osborn: Hu? Looks like he's really waving at you. What now? Should I give you two some space?

Having said that, he let go of my hand and made a move to head outside. I quickly grabbed his hand and held it tight.

MC: Not funny! Stop joking around! You're not allowed to leave!!

I watched as Liyuu got closer and closer. It looked as if he was making a beeline straight towards us, which made me unwittingly panic as I thought of how I should say hi.

Liyuu stopped before us, raising his hand to pat Osborn on the shoulder.

Liyuu: Os! It really is you!

Osborn: It's been a long time.

MC: Wha? You know each other…?

Osborn: Yeah. He's my classmate from the Maritime Academy.

Liyuu: ...And who is this, Os?

I was just about to introduce myself, but his gaze had already dropped to our joined hands. A look of realization dawned upon him.

Liyuu: Oh…

A look at his slowly withdrawing hand was all that I needed to know that he’d misunderstood our relationship. However, Osborn still acted as usual, continuing to talk to Liyuu as if nothing happened.

Osborn: This is my friend, (Y/n) She loves your band, and she was the one who brought me here.

Liyuu: Thank you for supporting us!

Osborn: Grats. That was a great performance.

Liyuu: I’m really happy to run into you here, Os! It’s been a long time since we last saw each other!

Liyuu: It’s so rare to see you! I want to talk to you more.

Liyuu: Our band’s gonna go for a celebratory party now. Drummer man’s also from our alma mater. How about you and (Y/n) come join us for a spin?

Osborn nodded but didn’t reply. Instead, he turned to me.

Osborn: You decide.

I hesitated for a while before deciding to…

Do I want to join the band's celebration?

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

✥ Choose your Ending:

END 1 | Choice: Do Nothing [都不做]

END 2 +3 + 4 | Choice: Call Out [呼唤] ⊹Speak⊹

END 5 | Choice: Listen [倾听] ❖ASMR

END 6 | Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ★Night★

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

[radramblog]

Some thoughts on Deltarune Chapter 2

I’m going to try to avoid being effusively praising of this game…demo…chapter. I’m sure there’s plenty of people doing that already, and I am more than cognizant of the platform I am presenting this post on. That’s going to be tough, yeah, but I’ll make it work.

I’m also going to try to avoid spoiling the thing too hard, even though there are spoilers everywhere and certain supposed-to-be obscure things are widespread at this point. But, someone could still end up reading this before they play it, so I’m going to hold my tongue a fair bit as a result.

With that in mind: new chapter is obviously out, so how does it stack up?

…I think it might be better than the first one. In my opinion.

Undertale 22 over here is a continuation of the first chapter, released about 3 years ago, taking place literally the next day in-universe. Chapter 1 coming out was a Huge Deal, not in the least a result of how it was announced. Despite the distance since the release, the Undertale fandom was still simmering along, and with an announcement that appears tied to one of that game’s biggest mysteries, it was no wonder that it was going to make some waves.

Chapter 2’s release was a surprise for different reasons. I believe at the time of the first demo, Toby stated that the remaining chapters would release as one, but that it would take a long time on account of the game being so much more complex than Undertale and not playing as much to his strengths. Of course, a lot happens in 3 years, especially with the last couple being as they have been, so Chapter 2 got its own release about a week ago.

I suppose I should stop beating around the bush and explain why I think Ch.2 is better than Ch.1, huh? I think there’s three main factors that swayed me.

Prologues and introductions always have to do one thing, and that is to familiarise the audience with the setting and characters. Despite sharing many side characters with its pseudo-prequel, Deltarune Chapter 1’s main cast are all completely fresh, and those side characters are in an unfamiliar form, and so much of the game is spent establishing cast dynamics. We have to learn who Susie, Kris, and Lancer are, and how the dynamics between them will be working for the stories to come.

However, there is the slight difference that Deltarune Chapter 1 is kind of a complete story. It’s like the pilot to a tv series- you have to establish characters, yeah, but you still have to get the plot spinning, and those characters still need to have small arcs over the course of the story. Susie and Lancer are kind of the only ones to go through actual arcs across the first chapter, given Ralsei’s currently kind of static character and Kris being a blank slate entirely.

By contrast, Chapter 2 has these dynamics in play from the get-go, and we get to more deeply explore them as a result, making the character work overall stronger. And while there are new characters at play, two of the three (arguably four) new players are already established in Chapter 1, and so we don’t need to spend as much time getting to know them. Character interactions are at the core of many styles of storytelling, and with the quirky characters we have to work with, getting more time seeing them do that is great!

The second of why I like Chapter Two better is just the gameplay. A fair few little tweaks have been made to make the whole thing cleaner- enemies now have a parallel meter to their HP bar to show how close to sparable they are, so pacifistic players have a better idea of their progress in longer fights. For those players, actually having Susie and Ralsei get ACT options is great, seeing as it makes them substantially more useful (especially Susie). When I replayed Chapter 1 in preparation for playing Chapter 2, I found myself just Guarding with them over and over while Kris did most of the work.

And the creativity with the fights is ramped up a whole bunch. This is another Not Being The First Part thing, but now that the player is used to how fights in this game are going to go, the complexity gets to increase to match, and the characterisation of the bosses and even generic enemies can better be expressed in the gameplay. I remember being genuinely shocked at how much was going on with the Ambyu-Lance enemy’s highway bullet pattern, especially when combined with other enemies in the fray.

I very much enjoyed the secret boss. Oh come on, that’s not a spoiler, everyone knows about Jevil at this point, and you get hinted at it super early on! And it’s way easier to find than Jevil was!

Anyway. My final point is just that I do like the characters in Chapter 2 better- particularly the antagonists. As fun as Lancer is, the sort of annoying whacky child characters are never something I’m particularly fond is. Even though he’s written really well, it took a lot to sell me on him. As well, as sicknasty as the King’s boss fight was, as well as the scenes surrounding it being an excellent summation of the point of the game as a whole, he’s not an especially interesting character.

And while I suppose Queen isn’t particularly deep either, everything about her is so unbelievably fun. I was pretty much sold on her immediately, with that regal “ohohoho” laugh followed by just absolutely shitposting for the entire length of the game. Her presence makes so much of this game an utter blast. Her presence reminds me a lot of the characters in Undertale who were mostly just there for one area, Alphys in Hotland and the skeletons in Snowdin, constantly popping in to keep things moving, giving each area its own little arc, and generally be fun and amusing along the way. And since each chapter of Deltarune is a lot longer than one arc of Undertale, it’s for the best that Queen manages to make this much of a good impression about the whole thing.

As I’ve stated, I think most of the reasons why Deltarune Chapter 2 are a simple result of being a Chapter 2 rather than a Chapter 1, rather than being any fault of Chapter 1’s (and the last point is basically personal preference). Both are obviously still excellent, and I’m happy to wait patiently for the series to continue if it keeps up this level of quality. At the end of the day, like, this game is currently free. And it provides a better and longer experience than a lot of actually paid games I’ve played. Toby Fox has managed to be a big shot after literally releasing one and two sevenths of a game, and it doesn’t seem like he’s going to be slowing down anytime soon. Here’s hoping that the assistance he’s apparently getting for future chapters works out such that it doesn’t end up sacrificing quality, but I don’t see this happening quite yet. I suppose only time will tell, but I’m optimistic. Filled with determination, as some would say.

no that’s cringy cut that one sheesh okay let me out of here im done

[writings-of-a-hufflepuff]

Summer Nights: Part 1

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: Charlie Weasley x Overweight/Plus size Female identifying Reader

Series: Summer Nights

Warning: Fred’s death, the series will mention issues such as guilt, grief, etc.

Writer:  @writings-of-a-hufflepuff​ (formerly imaginesofeveryfandom)​ aka @hufflepuffing-all-day-long​

Summary/Request: You’d always had brief glimpses of Charlie Weasley throughout your life, but despite your closeness with the rest of the Weasley family and your friendship with the Weasley Twins, you had never officially met. Until Charlie Weasley decided to take the summer off from his work as a Dragon Keeper at the Romanian Reserve and come back home, to the Burrow, that is. 

Notes: Gif is my own, using my art of Charlie Weasley which you can find on my art blog @artisticwarnug here. If you use please make sure you credit me and my art blog properly, that the ownership is clear as it is my own art and I would hate for it to be unclear that I made it <3 x 

Reader was a Hufflepuff in school but it probably won’t be mentioned that much!

Prologue 

After the war you’d found it harder and harder to spend long periods of time with your family. Not only were you working and living within a magical world that they were not a part of, but they didn’t know of the war or understand the true trauma of the experience for you and most of the wizarding community. You’d lost one of your best friends...Fred wasn’t coming back and your family had no idea that any of it even occurred. You’d seen your own friend alive one minute, and dead the next. Nothing could quite compare to the feeling, like choking on your own breath. Like drowning.

As a result you not only lived with the Weasley’s, Molly protesting whenever you tried to pay her money (you had Bill help you put some into their vault anyway, feeling the need to give them something for their kindness), but spent most of your holidays there as well, rarely returning home for Christmas, Easter, or the summer time. As much as you loved your family you struggled to be around them and they didn’t understand you either. 

In your grief you’d found that helping others made it easier, or at least helped you forget the feelings of guilt and grief that sat so heavy in your stomach. Helping George get back on his feet, helping Lee get his enthusiasm back, helping Mrs Weasley with dinner and around the house, helping everyone just seemed to make it easier to handle. That and working relatively long hours as a healer at St. Mungo’s often took your mind off of the war and what had been lost. You often chose to hide your feelings from the war behind Hufflepuff cheer. But, sometimes you wished someone would notice. You didn’t blame them for not, everyone had their own problems, your remaining best friends most of all. Grief and running a business took much attention. 

You woke up that Saturday morning fully aware that you should get out of bed, but that you didn’t want to. It wasn’t a particularly important Saturday, no plans had been made, no work to be done, no visitors expected. Yet, it would turn out to be a Saturday that completely changed your whole life. 

Since moving into the Burrow, 2 years prior, you had been staying in Fred and George’s old room, seeing as George lived above the Flat. You had spent the first few weeks simply making sure the room was safe, the twins had left many pranks around their room, but also all sorts of potion ingredients. You’d packed everything up and taken it to the Flat...It had been hard, going through all their childhood things with George. Hard for you, but harder for George. Years on and George was doing better, but you knew he still didn’t feel complete, like something was missing. But he slept better, stopped having nightmares, and generally seemed to have some of his old cheer back. It helped that Angelina was there for him as well. He was moving on and growing happier each day. 

The few things that you had been given by the Weasley family included clothes. At first it had been odd, being given some of Bill or Charlie or George’s old clothes to wear to bed or around the house. But, that had gone away quite quickly considering the oversized quidditch jerseys, jumpers, and shirts, were incredibly comfortable. Bill’s fit most snug, being a plump woman, with wide hips and a stomach, and Bill being one of the lankier of the Weasley’s. George and Charlie’s clothes fit much larger on you, however, seeing as they were some of the broader, stockier Weasley’s. It still surprised you that Charlie had been a seeker and not a beater.

The night previous you’d gone to bed in Charlie’s old quidditch jersey and a pair of pajama trousers with little snitches on, that had previously belonged to George. The trousers were much too long on you, covering your feet, and the Jersey while it clung to your hips was loose in every other aspect. It was a pairing that you enjoyed simply for its comfort. It was not something the Weasley’s even blinked at or questioned, after all you’d been gifted the clothes and had been wearing them for the last few years. So you hadn’t really thought twice, as you stumbled out of bed, feet hitting the powder stained floor, about going to breakfast as you were. 

You yawned loudly, covering your mouth with your hand, as you walked into the kitchen, not really taking in which Weasley’s were at the table, being much too tired to do so. 

“Morning” You sighed out as you grabbed a plate and collected your breakfast, Mrs Weasley having already placed dishes of eggs, toast, bacon, tomatoes, mushrooms, and sausages out on the dining table. 

“Good morning, dear!” Mrs Weasley called back, followed by a variety of familiar Weasley voices, and one that you did not recognise, that gave you pause. 

You wouldn’t say you were mortified to look up from your breakfast and realise that Charlie Weasley, the very attractive Charlie Weasley, was sitting in front of you, with an amused half smile and a raised eyebrow. But, you certainly were mildly embarrassed, simply because you were not exactly dressed for introductions and you were almost certain that you had a million knots in your hair. 

“Uh, hello...” You wave awkwardly, a little stinted, with an embarrassed smile. 

“Hello, love. I see mum finally gave away my jersey” You’re certain that Charlie is trying not to laugh, although you don’t feel hurt by this fact. Much like the rest of the Weasley’s Charlie comes across as laughing with you rather than at you. 

“I can...you can have it back, I...”

“It’s alright, looks better on you than it does on me. Might be a tad small for me now actually.” You relax at his easy going manner about it. You were sure it would be a little weird for the second oldest Weasley to finally meet someone while said someone was wearing his clothes. But, apparently not. 

“Y/N, right? I don’t think we’ve properly met?”

It had been two years since you’d last seen Charlie Weasley, that had been at Fred’s funeral and you’d not really taken much notice of him at the time. You had been, naturally, more concerned with and consumed by your own grief and the proceedings before you. 

You’d forgotten how handsome Charlie was. With broad shoulders and deep red hair, pulled back into a ponytail. Charlie was by far the most freckled of the Weasley’s with dense freckles across his face and sharp jaw, down his neck, and over his arms. The last time you’d seen Charlie he’d been dressed in a full suit, covered head to toe, the time before that he’d been a teenager, now you realised that he had a tattoo that you had never previously seen. It was a beautiful tattoo, a welsh green on his neck that twisted its head and puffed smoke from its nostrils. 

“We haven’t, just crossed paths, here and there. Surprising, really.”

“Considering you are not only friends with my brothers...” he pauses just a moment, before correcting himself, “brother, and have been living here, yeah, just a little surprising. Hufflepuff, right?”

“Yeah, managed to make Head Girl in the end, much to...much to Fred and George’s delight.” It was still odd wanting to mention them both, but realising that one of them wasn’t around anymore. But, it was true, Fred and George had teased you for weeks, over the fact that you, best friend to the biggest pranksters at Hogwarts, managed to make Head Girl. “Are you still working at the reserve in Romania?” 

“Yeah, thought I'd be head keeper by now...but...”

“Bad boss?” 

“He’s not bad, but we don’t see eye to eye when it comes to the dragons.” You raise an eyebrow, curious for him to continue. You’d never really been especially good at Care of Magical Creatures but that didn’t mean it wasn’t fascinating to you. “He wants to commercialise the reserve, make it a place people can come visit rather than a place for us to keep the dragons from the Muggles. Daft really, dragons’ll sooner eat a bunch of tourists than sit pretty for them.” 

“The reserves aren’t supposed to be tourist attractions though...why would...surely that’s dangerous and also not exactly fair on the dragons?”

“Oh, it’s definitely dangerous, it takes multiple keepers to restrain a dragon and the dragons aren’t exactly in cages on the reserve like a muggle zoo. Luckily he hasn’t gone through with the idea...yet.” He frowns in a way that tells you he suspects it’ll happen anyway and his tone suggests irritation with the situation. You’re sure for someone who loves dragons so much and wants them to be kept away from muggles and left to their own devices, it must be terribly frustrating. 

There’s a beat of silence as you continue eating. You feel a little awkward, although that certainly isn’t Charlie’s fault. It’s made worse by the sensation of Mrs Weasley’s eyes on the two of you. You were more than aware that Mrs Weasley’s one goal in life since the war had been to marry off each of her children, you included in that. Ginny had since been dating Harry, Ron was with Hermione, George was with Angelina, Bill was already married and Percy...you weren’t sure about Percy.  But, that left Charlie as the oldest single Weasley child, and yourself...still not dating much to Molly’s dismay. She was constantly asking you if you’d met anyone lately. 

“You’re a healer right?”

“At St. Mungo’s, on the Dai Llewellyn Ward for Serious Bites, although I'm often dragged away if someone's had a few too many hexes that have interacted poorly.”

“Ever had any dragon bites?”

“Once, a Peruvian Vipertooth, lady was in a right state for a while. Came out the other end though.” 

“Nasty bites, aggressive little buggers. You’d probably have a field day on the reserve the amount of bites and burns we have each day.” At that Charlie lifted his own arms to show an array of burn scars and old bite marks. Some had healed well, others less so.

You pointed at one, “Looks like you avoided seeing the healer.” You raise an eyebrow and make the face you learnt from Madam Pomphrey, the one that explicitly says you disapprove of avoiding proper medical care. You’d spent a great deal of time with Poppy not just because of the twins but also because she’d helped you prepare for your healer training. 

He lets out a slightly nervous laugh and looks away from you, red rushing up his neck in traditional Weasley fashion at being caught, “Didn’t want to bother anyone, it wasn’t serious. No need to worry, love.” You grab his arm and pull it closer to get a closer look. Trying to ignore the fact he had very strong forearms and incredibly warm skin.

Working on the Serious Bites Ward meant that you had a good eye for bite marks and what might have made them. Some dragons had very distinct bite marks. A Peruvian Viper Tooth had a different set of teeth to a Hungarian Horntail for instance. 

“Ukranian Ironbelly, right? Young one, by the looks of it.” 

“Just a baby really, got a bit over excited is all. Hurt like a bludger to the head though.”

“You should always see the reserve healer, you know? You could get a serious infection from a bite like this.” You let go of his arm and lean back in your chair, arms crossed, fixing him with the same look again. 

“I would if our healer was as nice as you. He’s got the personality of a fire crab who’s had its tail yanked.” You try not to take the compliment as more than it is. 

“Grumpy and explosive?” You knew a few healers like that. They didn’t exactly have the best bedside manner and it made many a witch or wizard reluctant to seek treatment. 

“Exactly. Augustus Pye still working on the ward? He tried to give dad stitches that time...” 

“Yes...” You sigh, it wasn’t that Augustus was a horrible person to work with so to speak, but you’d had a few awkward encounters with him when you’d first started working on the ward. 

“You don’t sound happy about that?”

“There’s nothing wrong with the man...he just...it's a very small ward you see and he may have...there were a few times where...”

“He asked her out on a date and she said no and embarrassed the poor bastard.” George’s voice comes from behind you with a laugh, before he takes the seat besides you. You’d been flattered, really you had, but, Augustus wasn’t someone you were particularly attracted to. Not physically, nor intellectually nor in regard to his personality. He was nice...but that was just it. You hadn’t expected to go into work and be asked on a date, either, it had been all a bit of a shock really...you hadn’t gotten a great deal of romantic attention in school. Being a big girl meant that boys were more inclined to tease you than date you. Not that you were upset about that, teenage boys were the worst. 

“Thank you, George. I obviously couldn’t disclose that myself.” You roll your eyes

“I still don’t know how you did it, you’re far too nice to say no to anyone.”

“I...” You look at all the curious eyes watching you, feeling a wave of genuine embarrassment as you realise you’re going to have to tell them the truth...that you’d really struggled to say no and had instead, “told him I was already seeing someone, I didn’t want to hurt his feelings!” You protest as George lets out a loud laugh next to you.

“It’s not funny, George! I was very flattered but...I didn’t want to tell him he was just...meh! How do you let someone down nicely? At least this way he thinks it's because i’m already taken not because I find him lacklustre!” 

“Just say it. You don’t find him attractive, you don’t want him to ravage you in the store room, it’s not that hard. You do know you’re an adult and not thirteen, right?” 

You let out an unhappy moan as you let your face fall into your hands at George’s teasing. 

“George Weasley!” You hear Molly scold him about talking about private matters such as ‘ravaging’ and teasing you so much, before turning her attention to you. “It’s okay not to like someone, dear, you don’t have to lie to save someone else’s feelings. Although, it would have been lovely for you to go on a date...it’s been a while, dear.” 

“Mum.” Charlie gave his mother a look which you knew too well, many of the Weasley children had given their mother that exact same look whenever she tried to encourage them to find a date. It was a relief to have someone else tell her to leave well enough alone. You loved Mrs Weasley dearly, but you’d rather date someone you wanted to rather than date someone simply to please her. 

“Oh, alright. Charlie, I need you and Ron to degnome the garden, you too George since you’re here. Y/N, dear, could you water the vegetables in the garden today?”

“Of course, Molly.” You’d long since learnt not to call her Mrs Weasley to her face. Molly hated any of her ‘adopted children’ calling her Mrs Weasley, Harry and Hermione still hadn’t quite gotten out of the habit yet though. Much to Molly’s dismay. 

After much more teasing from George and a shy goodbye to Charlie, you rushed up the stairs to get ready for the day. A day that might very well end with Charlie Weasley being the death of you, death by embarrassment that is.

[eleanor-devil]

Boruto: Sacrifices [Remade] | Chap.20 - Team Konohamaru's New Member?

Written by: Eleanor-Devil & @mirage-05​​

Prologue | Chap.1 | Chap.2 | Chap.3 | Chap.4 | Chap.5 | Chap.6 | Chap.7 | Chap.8 | Chap.9 | Chap. 10 | Chap.11 | Chap.12 | Chap.13 | Chap.14 | Chap.15 | Chap.16 | Chap.17 | Chap.18 | Chap.19 | Chap.20 - You’re here

And he had thought the day couldn't possibly become more challenging. Ichiro had just left the office, and he was just as much of a head case as he was the day before. The only difference was that now that he was officially the leader of the Sarutobi - which honestly was a concept Konohamaru was still trying to wrap his mind around - the teen had to act more reserved and respectable around him. Deep down, though, he couldn't help but feel like this was eventually gonna brew a rebellion sooner or later. It would take only a spark. So he was going to act very careful, so as not to make any mistakes. In other words, it was a battle of wills between himself and the clan's next heir. Lost in his thoughts, Konohamaru raised his head as he heard a knock on the door. "Come in." A chuunin walked into his office, a folded piece of paper in her hand. "Konohamaru-san," she said with a small bow, holding the paper out to him. "Lord Hokage wanted me to deliver this message to you." The brunet took the message. "Thank you." As the woman left, he quickly unfolded the paper and took a look at the handwriting. In a minute, he lowered his head in his palm with a sigh. Yep... this day indeed couldn't have turned out more challenging. ...

"I don't understand..." Sarada said with a small frown as she was walking beside Boruto. "Why would lord seventh ask to see us now?" "He didn't specify the details." the blond said, although he sounded a little... concerned, the Uchiha noted. It had been a little over a week since their friend fell into the coma, and they had never received a call from the Hokage's office since then. So both of the children were understandably... a little nervous. Although, as much as she couldn't put a finger on it... There was something different about Boruto, it was as if he was... expecting something, or else plotting something. She didn't know what that could possibly be but sometimes... the kind of determination and devotion scared the girl. Still... Sarada chose not to voice any of her thoughts as they came in front of the Hokage building. ... "WHAT?!" Naruto sighed and closed his eyes for a moment at his son's outburst. "Just calm down and listen, Boruto..." "Listen?! What is there to listen to, dad? You are telling us that you are replacing Mitsuki in the team!" "I am not." his father said patiently. "This is only a temporary mission. The boy who will be accompanying you has his own team..." "Then he should be sent with his own team!" "They are on a different mission right now." Boruto snorted out a sarcastic laugh. "What kind of a tactic is that dad? Since when have you been mix-matching teams?" "Lord seventh, please... I don't think we're really ready for a mission right now." Sarada said. "I might have reconsidered my decision if the situation wasn't urgent." The Hokage's voice was soft but it was obvious that he wasn't going to give in. "The ingredient you must recover is extremely rare and can only be collected at this time of the year, and since his grandson is the only one who can truly identify it... Teuchi-san asked for him to accompany this mission." Boruto crossed his arms and turned his back to his dad, his expression still very cross. "Find another team, dad." "Boruto..." "No, I'm serious dad!" the boy snapped, turning back furiously. "No matter how you cut it, it will still feel like he's just there as a replacement! And he will never be as good as Mitsuki!" He had to take a pause, breathing heavily because he had just delivered the speech in one breath. "Why are you doing this to us...?" he asked finally, his tone broken. In his eyes, this was nothing short of a betrayal. Naruto sighed again before getting up from his seat and approaching his son. "Boruto, Sarada... I know it's hard for you both but please have faith in me... I'm not doing this to replace Mitsuki at all... It was bec-" "Will there be any other missions like this?" his son cut in abruptly, his tone still tense but a careful look in his eyes, almost... calculating. It caught Naruto off guard for a moment, but he was quick to brush it off. "Not if there's another emergency, no." "Dad, this isn't the answer we're looking for." "But I can't give you guarantees on a matter that's out of my control. But... next time, I'll try to arrange a three-man mission, okay?" Sarada sighed a breath of relief at that, she wasn't really keen about this mission either... Boruto looked at his father for a moment, and Naruto saw that the look in his eyes, that calculating look, stayed in place... Was he... planning something? Before he could elaborate on it, though, Boruto huffed and unfolded his arms, bringing one of his hands to stretch his neck, avoiding his eyes. "Okay, okay... I'll do your mission." ... When they finally walked outside, they found their sensei was waiting for them... talking with the boy that would be 'accompanying' them. The first thing that could be said about him was... well, he was quite plain-looking. He had a thin build, not exactly skinny but not with many muscles to show. Blond, shoulder length hair framed a tanned face with brown eyes. He looks too much like me, Boruto decided as soon as they saw him, adding to his grumpiness. At least their original team had color variety. Seeing them, the boy broke into a pleasant smile. "Hello! Nice to meet you, I'm..." Boruto raised his hand to cut in. "I don't do introductions. We're only here for the mission, and that's that." The newcomer was clearly taken aback. "Uuuh..." "Boruto, be nice to him." Konohamaru said seriously. "This is Beika, and as you both know-" "I'm sorry, was it 'baka'?" "Boruto..." the brunet had a slight frown on his features now. "Eh? No, it's 'Beika', as in... baker?" "Are you trying to tell me-" "Why," Konohamaru cut in, loud, sensing that this wasn't going to end up well. "don't you quickly introduce yourselves before we start, too?" He looked pointedly at his two students. There was a moment of silence. "Uchiha Sarada." the girl finally spoke, and while her tone wasn't as hostile as Boruto's, it couldn't be clearer that she was not interested either. "Uzumaki Boruto, but you can just keep it in mind as 'stay away'." "You know," and finally... there was a frown on Beika's face, too. "You really don't have to take that tone with me." "Whatever." "Beika... let me have a quick word with these two." The boy nodded silently, his eyes still on the Uzumaki as Konohamaru drew the two friends away. "Now, listen to me," the jounin told them when they were out of earshot. "Beika didn't choose to be part of the team for this mission, Teuchi-san didn't specifically ask for our team to take it. Do you see where I'm going with this?" "He might be... as unwilling as we are?" Sarada asked. "That wouldn't be how I put it, since he's actually showing some effort to act as part of this team." Konohamaru cut in quickly when he saw Boruto was about to say something. "I know what you feel, but this is how it works in the shinobi world, sometimes you have to work with people other than your teammates. Especially after you become Chuunins.” At this point, he looked meaningfully at Sarada. “And well... since this is a very basic mission, I'm pretty sure it won't take too long. So please... behave." he finished, especially looking at Boruto. "Doesn't mean I have to enjoy it," the blond mumbled. The jounin sighed. "Boruto... Lord seventh arranged this mission so you two can ease your minds a little. It's temporary, Beika won't be here all the time for all the possible missions, and I know you better than this. So please..." "...behave. Yeah, okay, got it Konohamaru-onii-chan." Boruto said finally in a resigned tone, and this time the old epithet made the brunet actually smile a bit before ruffling his hair light-heartedly. ... "So... where are we headed to?" Beika smiled a little as he heard the noticeable change for the good in Sarada's tone. "We are headed to a small village on the other side of the hills a few kilometers away from our southern border." he replied. "The ingredient we're searching for must be of their native origin..." the girl deduced. "Yes, indeed. Actually, its origin is the snow country, but in this certain time of the year it can be-" "Yeah yeah, we got it, cut it short will you?" "Boruto, don't make me repeat myself." "What? I didn't say anything!" "Look, it's not my fault your friend isn't here." Beika started in a tone that was obviously trying to stay calm. Nobody said anything for a moment. "This... really isn't the best topic to bring up..." Sarada said, sweat dropping by the side of her cheek. It looked like the boy was going to say something else... but then he decided against it. They continued down the pathway, not speaking much with each other after that. ... They reached the village in about an hour. It was like they had stepped into another reality. Since it was the beginning of April, the weather was growing milder in Konoha. Certainly not this cold - at all. The place gave the friends the feeling that they had just stepped into a freezer. A middle-aged man with a pleasant expression greeted them at the entrance. "Welcome to Kanabiri," he said warmly as they came to a stop in front of him. "Sorry, we couldn't give you a warmer welcome... Got it? Warmer - because of the weather!" They tried their best not to look too awkward as the man laughed heartily at his own joke - all but Beika, who sweatdropped. "I see you still haven't improved your humor skills, Oyayama-san." "Beika, my boy," the man put a hand on Beika's shoulder, and with his size, the blond looked even smaller. 'What a joke,' Boruto thought grumpily. "It's been a while! Tell me about your grandfather." "He's doing quite good, thank you." "I thought you would come with the dog girl and that perma-grin boy?" Boruto and Sarada just looked at each other, trying not to roll their eyes. This team sounded weirder and weirder each passing second. "No, we got separated. This is Uzumaki Boruto, Uchiha Sarada and Sarutobi Konohamaru-sensei." Oyayama shook their hands in turn. "Nice to meet all of you. Please make yourselves at home while we make the last preparations. There is a small celebration going on right now in the village actually." And sure enough, they could hear music coming from not too far away. "Thank you, we will enjoy that." Konohamaru said pleasantly. Well... Boruto had other plans. ... They had been enjoying the celebrations - which were apparently for a wedding that would take place in the evening. She was trying to be open-minded about Beika, coming to terms with the fact that it wasn't his fault what they had been going through, and finding out that he is actually a person whose conversation she could enjoy. But of course Sarada noticed the absence of the familiar presence of her childhood friend. "Umm, sensei..." she approached Konohamaru, trying to be discreet about it. "Do you know where Boruto is?" "Hm? No, I haven't seen him in a while," the brunet replied, but he didn't seem so worried about it. "I wouldn't worry, though, he's probably somewhere around the village." "True... I just..." the girl bit her lower lip. "What is it, Sarada?" her sensei asked, still not really concerned but slightly bothered by her behavior. "Something just doesn't feel right." she concluded a little bit sheepishly. Before Konohamaru could say something, Oyayama approached them. "Konohamaru-san, everything is ready to go." "Thank you for your cooperation," Konohamaru said, and then looked around. "Now if we can find Boruto..." "Oh, he's not here." Oyayama's daughter chirped in from beside him, which left everyone baffled for a second. "What do you mean?" Sarada asked, immediately going into alarm mode. "He said something about a secret mission," the girl continued brightly, not aware of how they suddenly became tense. "Kaa-san was teaching us about some herbs and he asked about... umm, the name was..." "It was the Okanouchi flower," came a female voice behind the girl as her mother walked forward. With that word, Oyayama turned to look at her, a slight frown on his face. "Wait, I thought that flower went extinct a few years ago?" "That's what I tried to tell him," the woman replied, looking at her husband. "True, the plant's healing substances are still used as components of all kinds of medicine, but it's not as effective as the original. The plant itself..." "Healing?" Konohamaru asked, his eyes widening. "That was its main purpose, yes." Sarada didn't need any help to catch up to her sensei. "Sensei, we need to find him..." she said, worry evident in her onyx eyes. It was taken to a different level now - she was hoping that they would find Boruto before he had to suffer a big disappointment. "And we will." the jounin said firmly. "Ma'am, any ideas of where he could go to search for this... plant?" "Wait, do we need to find him immediately?" Beika asked, frowning a little himself. "I mean, it's not like he's in danger, and we need to take the ing-" "Are you seriously even comparing these situations?" the Uchiha asked unbelievably. "Well I'm sorry but there IS a reason why the mission couldn't be postponed." "Well I'm sorry to say that right now, I don't give two-" "We can arrange for the ingredients to last longer," Oyayama put in helpfully. "Thank you, we will take it," Konohamaru said before turning to Beika. "I understand your concern, but we don't leave anyone behind. I'm pretty sure this is not your sensei's way of teaching, so do comply with us." When the blond didn't say anything to that, the brunet turned to Oyayama's wife. "Please give us more information about that location." ... He was getting close. It was more of a gut feeling rather than actually knowing the territory. It felt like he couldn't do this wrong, he couldn't have mistaken or miscalculated anything, this was the chance he was waiting for, the thing he had planned all along. Of course, Boruto was quite aware of the fact that he was going to hear from Konohamaru-sensei for abandoning a mission, but he didn't really care right now. Realizing that he had almost reached the mountain top - his destination - the blond started paying closer attention to his surroundings. The plant in description sounded quite... plain, except for some details. It was a brilliant cyan in color, but the trickiest part was the leaves. From noon to two pm each day they were glowing with a barely noticeable hint of gold. It was fifteen minutes to two, so he had to be quick. Luck was by his side. He indeed came upon a cluster of light blue flowers by the riverside he was climbing. Coming to an immediate stop, excited, Boruto knelt down. These weren't the flowers he was looking for. This continued on for a while as the blond continued moving up the mountain side, looking at every group of blue flowers he could find, growing more and more desperate with each one of them. There was always something missing, something wrong that disqualifies the plant as the one he needed. "No..." he mumbled as he picked another flower, turning it in his hand to look at every detail. "No, no..." In his frustration, he tore the petals apart. "Boruto...!" he then heard a voice. He immediately jumped back on his feet and sprinted forward again, he didn't want to be interrupted right now! He still had a little time... "Boruto!" a different, more commanding voice then sounded, but the blond still acted like he couldn't hear any of them. It was finally someone grabbing him, tight, from behind that forced the pre-teen to stop. However, Boruto didn't stop trying to move out of his sensei's embrace. "Let me go!" he yelled in frustration. "Boruto..." Konohamaru's voice was decidedly soft. "I'm sorry kid..." "No... if you just let me go, we still have time..." Boruto tried again, growing desperate. Why couldn't he understand?! Time was precious - they couldn't afford to lose any! "Boruto... what you're looking for is extinct, you can't find any by just looking around..." "I can!" the boy yelled again. "Just - just let me go, I know I can fix this, Konohamaru-nii-chan, PLEASE!" That was when his eyes landed on his female teammate, and hope was rekindled in him. "Sarada... Sarada, you - you know this is real - you read about it right?! You believe me, right?!" There was nothing but sorrow in the girl's eyes, it was hard for her to watch her friend in this state... "Boruto, I-I'm sorry... Sensei is right... Okanouchi went extinct-" "No! Just - dammit!" the blond started heaving in deep breaths, coming closer to hyperventilating. "Please... we don't have time... we don't... we..." Konohamaru just hugged him tighter with his words. "Are you dense?" The voice was harsh, no sympathy whatever in it. Konohamaru felt Boruto tense in his arms, but none of the members of Team Konohamaru said anything. "What were you thinking, endangering a mission to chase after something everyone knows is gone for good?" Their blond companion was seething... not the cheerful boy they had seen in the beginning. "Beika," the jounin was frowning now. "It is not your place to tell Boruto off, I will do it myself if I find it necessary." "Well I'm sorry but when will it be necessary?!" "Don't take that tone with my sensei..." Boruto said in a low voice, frowning slightly. "I mean yeah, I got it, you somehow believe that I'm here to take your friend's place but you know what? I didn't want any of it! If I could, I would go with my friends! And maybe next time you should tell your friend not to make such dumb deci-" Konohamaru was too concentrated on holding Boruto. It didn't even register to him that someone else moved first. WHAM! Both the boy and the jounin's eyes widened a little at the usually calm Sarada's reaction. The Uchiha was practically shaking with fury as she continued looking at Beika, her hand with which she pulled the punch still in the air. The boy was also looking at her, appalled, one hand on his cheek. "You... I've had enough of you!" the girl exclaimed, her tone furious and heated. "Do you have even the slightest idea of what it means to have someone you hold dear in a very critical condition and you don't know what will happen next?! Do you know what desperation feels like?! Do you even have a heart?!" "I-" "Save it. I want nothing more than to complete this stupid mission so I will never have to see your face again." "I bet you were one of those who kept harassing Mitsuki." Boruto said, his tone just as cold. "Excuse me? I wasn't even in Konoha this past week!" "Yeah, right." "That's quite enough." Konohamaru's voice cut in, serious and stern. "We end this mission right now. We're returning to Konoha and... I don't think I have to say that my report is gonna be full of disappointment. I expected much better from all of you." The genins didn't say anything to that, but none of them were looking at each other... ... "Log, I understand your concerns but... you know as well as I do that this is not the first time Orochimaru-sama disappeared for this long." Karin was sitting in one of the lounge chairs in the attendance room, one of her hands resting on her growing belly, her red eyes on the young man standing in front of her. The oldest son - or in this case, clone - Orochimaru created was clearly in distress - although he didn't show any physical signs of it, the redhead knew him long enough to know. "I know that." Log said curtly, tense. "But something is wrong... Don't you think he would be back from Konoha by now? A week is too long for a village that supposedly doesn't trust him." The woman sighed at that, the young man was indeed talking about her worries in the passing time... In all honesty, she had been restless for a couple of days, too, pacing around, constantly sighing... It had only been for her boyfriend's sake that she had been trying to keep it under control, what with Suigetsu warning her from time to time to not get overly-stressed (who would have thought he could become such a good father even before the baby was born anyway)... But the worries were there, hidden deep. "Well...?" Log was impatient, her silence was clearly frustrating him. Karin closed her eyes for a minute before opening them again and getting up. "Follow me." Together they walked (or in Log's case, stormed) towards the exit of the hideout. Juugo and Suigetsu were outside, doing some spar out of boredom, because without Orochimaru here, there wasn't much to do other than the routine things, which didn't take much time. "Juugo," she called, walking up to them and crossing her arms as a serious expression crossed her face. "This is getting ridiculous, we want to know right now what is taking Orochimaru-sama so long. Do your thing." "My thing?" the orange haired man straightened up from his spar position. "What do you mean Karin?" "She is being paranoid... again." said Suigetsu, looking at the pregnant woman. "She thinks that something happened but I've told her a thousand times that everything is fine, it's not like it's the first time Orochimaru leaves without saying anything..." He looked at Log. "Have you been feeding her anxiety, kid?" That earned him a glare. Pregnant or not, Karin's temper was still there and... you could say it was ten times worse because of the mood swings. Suigetsu only knew what was coming when he felt something hit him hard on the head. "I dare you to call me paranoid again, Suigetsu! Do I have to remind you that I'm carrying YOUR baby?!" "Hey!" the white haired man quickly stood up. "Do I have to remind you that you agreed with having a baby too?" "Cut it out, you two." Juugo said, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. Now that he thought about it... Yeah, he would say he had stock in the worry department himself. Orochimaru had said he was going to meet Mitsuki... and since he wasn't allowed in Konoha, him being away for a week, well... It was not exactly comforting. He sighed. "Alright, I'm gonna try to learn if there's anything new from the birds." "Bird-whisperer," Suigetsu said in an undertone, to which the orange haired man just rolled his eyes. Then the white haired man looked at his girlfriend. "Look, go inside and settle down, will you? We will tell you if we learn something new." But the red haired woman was not about to do it so easily. "Suigetsu, I am not leaving until Juugo says something... I am worried about Mitsuki and if you try to hide anything from me, I swear I will track Orochimaru's chakra on my own." And there she was trailing again... Juugo was not listening to the couple anymore, he was staring at the sky as he waited for a bird to come. And it did, not one but two of them who landed safely on his hand. His dark orange eyes stared at the birds as they began chirping. The couple and Log watched on, not interrupting anymore as he listened to whatever the birds were chirping about. Suigetsu noticed it first, though, being nearer to the man, when he noticed his eyes widening slightly. "Good lord..." Juugo whispered to himself, his free hand balling into a fist. Hearing the man's words, Karin quickly approached him, worry suddenly filling her eyes. "What? What is it, Juugo?!" her voice sounded more anxious than she had actually wanted to show. "What happened?" Karin suddenly coming to the point of freaking out, Suigetsu felt the need to once again intervene, although he knew very well that it might end up in blood, and he was worried by Juugo's reaction himself. "Whoa, whoa, take it easy." he said, trying to calm her down. "Suigetsu, I swear something will break if YOU don't drop this attitude, and I'm not talking about pregnancy issues," Karin snarled. "What did you learn, Juugo?" she insisted, turning to the orange haired man. "Just spill it already!" Log, who had been silent for a while, finally burst out. The taller man allowed the birds to fly away before he dropped his arm, Karin noticed how his eyes hardened more than ever as he turned around to face them. "Something... really bad happened to Mitsuki..." The whisper was all the contrary to the man's hardened features... the whisper came out barely making it to the other two's ears... Karin hadn't really noticed that she had forgotten how to breathe, stuck in the endless moment of Juugo's declaration as his words echoed in her mind. Suigetsu was staring at Juugo, trying to wrap his mind around what he had just said, but his mind and body sprang into action when he saw Karin swaying on her feet. He caught her before she could fall to the ground. "Hey, easy, dammit..." He looked up at Juugo again. "Wha... what happened?" "He..." there was a lump in his throat. "He was attacked on the way here... the birds said that those who attacked him were going to attack Konoha. He engaged them into a fight and... got really hurt." He eyed Log and an already weakened Karin, he didn't know how to say the rest... but he had to. "He is in a coma..." With that, the older brother didn't even stay to listen for more... In less than a second, without saying a word to them, he had sprung to the trees, disappearing out of sight. When she heard that last word, Karin couldn't hold it back anymore. A sob escaped her mouth as she brought her hand to her mouth, tears falling down her face. "I knew it... I knew something happened, I knew it..." she whispered to herself, shaking slightly with the sobs. She had felt her heart tug a week ago, she didn't know why but she immediately felt it was about Mitsuki, something in her heart and head had immediately thought of the light blue haired boy that she had practically raised as her own child... and now she knew it was true... As she wiped her tears away and slowly released herself from Suigetsu's grip, she took a few steps before looking at the two men. "I want to go there." she said. "I want to go to Konoha." "We can't just show up at the border and demand them to let us see him, we are not allowed into the village, either..." Suigetsu said, as much as he wanted to go too, there was something called being reasonable. "I would like to see anyone denying me the right to see my baby boy," Karin snapped. "We are going to Konoha, now, and that's that." Juugo didn't say anything, Karin was already acting like a mother, it was just instinct and he knew nothing would stop that woman from going to see Mitsuki. "Very well, let's go then." They would think of a way to get inside the village somehow... Of course it would not be as easy as the last time they had done it was back when the Great Fourth Ninja War was happening.

[imthecaretaker]

More G/t? More G/t!

Yes friends, acquaintances, and assorted cryptids, I bring you another piece of G/t fiction for your enjoyment!  Sit back and relax!

Prologue

The Fae creature snapped their fingers, causing a scroll to appear in midair next to them.  "I believe we had an agreement, human," they said, adjusting reading glasses that had been conjured from thin air.

"Yes, but-"

"And you broke it," they said flatly as they looked over the contract.

"There was no other way!" The human pleaded.

The Fae tsked as they hovered a foot off the ground, still perusing the scroll.  "Did you even read the terms?  Consider the consequences?"

Another attempt to defend their actions was silenced as the Fae continued.  "You know what is going to happen, don't you?"

A sigh, and a silent nod was the only response.

The Fae gave a disapproving shake of their antlered head and snapped their fingers. They and the scroll vanished.

"You'll do well not to violate our contract further," the Fae's disembodied voice warned.  "Steeper penalties await if you do."

An unspecified number of years later...

Sam panted as he ducked and dodged through the trees, his ears filled with the sounds of his fast-approaching pursuer.  He'd been on a hike in the woods when he happened across a rather cantankerous bear, feeding on a bushful of berries.  But now, it seemed it wanted a taste of meat.

In his panic, Sam had taken a wrong turn somewhere, and was now sprinting deeper into the forest.

His body screaming for oxygen, he paused for a moment, his head snapping back and forth looking for a place to hide.  Suddenly he noticed through a bit of brush, the yawning mouth of a cave.  With the bear quickly closing, Sam dashed toward the cave.  Maybe he could find some rocks to make a last stand with.

He ran inside for about twenty yards, before skidding to a stop.  Before him was a crevice in the rock floor, at least thirty feet deep and maybe fifteen feet wide, too wide to jump without a running start.  Which he wasn't going to get.

Turning around, he saw the bear slowly closing, huffing and growling.  It got within ten feet and raised up on its hind paws.  At nearly eight feet tall, it towered over Sam, eyeing him hungrily before roaring in his face.  Flinching, Sam's nose was filled with the hot stink of the bear's breath.  He tried to pray as he awaited his demise.  Our Father, who art in Heaven…

"WHO DISTURBS MY REST?!"  An angry male voice boomed from the darkness of the cave.

The bear, its attention drawn, stared past Sam, into the cave.

"I SAID WHO DISTURBS ME?!" The voice demanded again, along with the sounds of fabric rustling and something big changing position.

Now thoroughly spooked, the bear dropped back to all fours and made a hasty retreat.

Momentarily relieved he wasn't going to be bear chow, Sam realized he now had a much more pressing matter to attend to.  The sounds of heavy steps reached his ears and he slowly turned around.  His eyes widened at what he saw and he could only whisper, "No…"

A hoof, cloven and the size of a Volkswagen, appeared from the darkness and thundered to a stop on the other side of the rock crevice.  Then, to its right, a fur-covered knee touched down before being covered by some rough white cloth.  Two massive hands, with fingers at least as long as Sam was tall and ending in some sort of dark-colored bony material, crashed down on both sides of the human.

Sam gulped.  He didn't want to look up. He really didn't.  But his eyes slowly went up and up, to stare into the face of the biggest, and angriest, bull that he'd ever seen.  

The bull, a minotaur, Sam realized, glared down at the miniscule intruder, its- his- cold blue eyes watching, studying.  The nostrils of his bovine nose, sporting a gold ring, flared as his breath washed over the tiny human.

"Why are you here?" The minotaur demanded in his deep gruff voice.

Sam gulped and tried to speak, but couldn't.

"I asked you a question, human," the giant bull snorted.

"I… I was chased.  By a, a bear." Sam managed to squeak.

"Bear," the bull huffed as he continued to glare at the intruder.

"Y-yes sir.  Chased me here."

The two were quiet for a few moments, just trying to take each other in.

"Gonna run?" the minotaur asked finally, still wearing a stern expression.

"Should I?"

"Everyone runs, so I'd say yes."

Sam took a half-step closer.  "How come?"

The bull's eyes narrowed.  "Are you dense? Everyone runs from monsters!"

Another half-step.  "Well, I'm not."

The bull leaned closer.  "You may be stupid, then."

"Or I don't think you're a monster," Sam replied with a hint of a smile.

Squinting at the strange human, the minotaur adjusted his position so he was sitting.  "You're the strangest human I've encountered for quite some time."  He adjusted the shoulder of what Sam now recognized as a toga.  The bull calmly reached down and carefully grabbed the human around the waist with two bony-ended fingers and lifted him up to his face.  "Well, since you refuse to leave the presence of a monster, I suppose introductions are in order," the bull sighed as he deposited the human into his palm.  "My name is Rheneas, and this cave is my home."

Once he'd steadied himself in the middle of a giant hand, Sam looked up at Rheneas and smiled.  "Neat name.  What's it mean?"

"It's an old word that means 'waterfall'.  I was born near a falls many years ago," Rheneas answered, before carefully nudging the human with a finger.  "Now, what sort of neat name does my little intruder have?"

"Well, my name's Sam.  Short for Samson," the human replied with a smile.  "Mom wanted a good strong name."

The giant minotaur nodded.  " 'And Samson said, With the jawbone of a donkey, heaps upon heaps, With the jawbone of a donkey, I have slain a thousand men.' "  He gave Sam another gentle poke.  "You don't have the appearance of someone who can perform such a feat, though.  A thousand men might even be a bit much for a monster like me."

Sam leaned on Rheneas' hard-ended finger.  "You're not a monster.  A little bigger than most folks, but not a monster."

Rheneas snorted.  "Perhaps you are blind as well," he mused.  "Do you not see the great beast before you?"

"Yeah, I see you in front of me," Sam replied nonchalantly.  "But I don't see a beast, or a monster.  I see… Rheneas, a large and so far very interesting minotaur.  Honestly, if you were a monster, you would've thrown me in a birdcage, or crushed me in your hand.  Maybe eaten me as a snack."

"I have no birdcage, I don't want blood on my hand, and my teeth are not ideal for eating meat," Rheneas responded flatly.

"See?" Sam pressed.  "More proof!  If you were actually a monster, you wouldn't care!"  He smiled victoriously.  "You're gonna have to face facts, Rheneas.  I don't think you're a monster, and I want to talk and get to know you better."

The giant opened his mouth to argue, but couldn't think of a good counter.  He tried again, only to fail.  He huffed, defeated.  "Very well.  It seems there is no ridding myself of you."

Sam opened his mouth to say something, but he was interrupted by a crash of thunder.  He turned around in Rheneas' palm to look outside.  A storm had moved in as the pair talked, and rain was now coming down in sheets.

Sighing, Rheneas put his free hand on the floor.  "Hold on, Samson.  I'm going to stand up."  With the human hanging on to his thumb, the giant slowly pushed himself to his hooves, before turning and making his way deeper into the cave.

@

"How long have you had this thing?"  Sam asked as he tried to get both hands on the splinter buried near Rheneas' thumb.

"About three days.  I've tried to dig it out but I can't get close enough, especially with my fingertips the way they are."

Sam nodded.  "Yeah, wanted to ask about that.  Okay, that's it, making some headway," he muttered as he got one hand under the wood fragment.  "What are your fingertips made of?"

Rheneas drew a hissing breath as he felt the splinter move.  "They're keratin, like my hooves.  Can you hurry up? That kinda hurts."

Both hands now grasping the splinter, Sam nodded.  "Here goes nothing to nowhere," he muttered as he pulled.

The splinter didn't move, but Rheneas flinched a bit.

Sam braced one foot against Rheneas' hand and squared his shoulders.  "I said come outta there!" he growled as he pulled hard.  He felt the giant flinch beneath his foot, but he kept pulling.  Slowly, the sliver began to move, and Sam pulled harder.  Grunting, he quickly adjusted his grip and gave another herculean yank.  The splinter came out and Sam fell, landing on his back, looking up toward Rheneas.

The giant sighed with relief and looked down at Sam, smiling.  "Thank you very much!" He grinned, his ears wiggling happily as he carefully slid a hand under Sam, helping the human to his feet.  "That splinter has been bothering me, interrupting nearly every task I've had to perform with that hand."  Rheneas sighed again and flexed his hand.  "Ah, relief."

Sam tossed the stick aside.  "Hey, no problem.  Happy to help, big guy."

Rheneas sighed.  "Well, since you have performed a kindness for me, I suppose I owe you something in return.  Name it, and I'll do whatever I can to help."

Sam looked up at Rheneas, then at the ground, thinking.  "Are there limits to this thing?" he asked, looking back up at the minotaur.

The bull rubbed the back of his neck.  "Noo… well… not many," he finally conceded.  "I may have to draw a line if you were to ask me to, say, attack your town and enslave its citizens, or raze a fortress.  But no, there's not really a limit."

Turning back toward the mouth of the cave, Sam took a few steps across the stone platform that served as Rheneas' table.  He stood quietly for a few moments.  "Could you help me get back home?" he inquired finally.  "After this storm passes, of course.  Don't want you getting wet and sick."

Rheneas' cool blue eyes dropped.  "I don't know about getting you all the way home, human.  I've never left this forest since I was a boy- er, a calf-... a youngling."  His ears drooped and he slumped down till his chin rested on his arms.

Sam turned back to the giant bull.  "Never?"

"Never," Rheneas mumbled.

The human walked back to Rheneas.  "I'm sorry to hear that.  How long has it been?"

A shrug was his only response.

Hesitantly, Sam reached out with one hand toward the giant's face.  Rheneas watched as the human's hand slowly moved closer, finally coming to rest on his forehead.

"You've been alone the whole time?" Sam asked quietly as he began to gently stroke Rheneas' face, from forehead to nose.  

The giant nodded.

"I'm sorry, Rheneas," Sam softly said.  "I'm sorry you've been alone for so long.  This must be the longest conversation you've had in a long time, huh?"  He continued gently petting the bull's face.

"Mm-hm," Rheneas rumbled.  The human's soft tone and gentle touch were hypnotic, and something that the giant didn't realize he'd needed so desperately.  Tears began to well up in his cool blue eyes, and he sniffled.

Sam looked into Rheneas' eye, before bringing up his other hand.  He began to run circles in the giant's thick fur.  How does that feel, Rheneas?  That okay?"

The giant nodded.  "It feels, *hic*, feels really g-good," he whimpered, tears threatening to fall.

"It's okay, buddy.  Let it out, I won't think less of you," Sam soothed as he continued to massage.

Rheneas sniffled and whimpered, trying to maintain composure, until the dam finally broke.  Being thought of as an equal, receiving help out of the kindness of another, the soft words and gentle touch… it was all too much for the giant, who couldn't remember the last time any of these things had happened.

Sam continued to massage, as well as whisper soothing words to the sobbing giant.  "It's okay, I'm here for you.  Go ahead, let it out, you're safe here…"

Finally, Rheneas' sobs subsided til they were reduced to heavy breaths.  Slowly, he lifted his head.  His eyes were bloodshot and puffy, and tear tracks streaked his fur.

Sam, with one hand on the giant's fur, slowly climbed over the chiseled-muscle arms and made his way to Rheneas' right eye.  "Here, let's get that taken care of," he said softly, before removing his jacket and using it as a handkerchief, dabbing the giant's eye dry.

Rheneas sniffled and, with a growing smile, brought both hands up and gently held the human to his cheek in a nuzzle.  "Thank you hum- er, Samson.  Thank you Samson.  This means so much, I could never tell you," he whispered.

Leaning into the nuzzle, Sam stroked the side of the giant's tear-stained face.  "You deserve kindness, just like everyone else.  Don't ever forget that, friend."

Friend.  A happy tear rolled down Rheneas' cheek, and he laughed.

[fortheloveoffanfic]

Put Me In a Movie

Keanu Reeves x reader (A/n- And we’ve reached the end of this fic that apparently took on a mind of its on.)

Summary Prologue  1   2   3  4  5  6 7  8  9  10  11  12  13  14  15  16

Warnings- Angst, kind of

Chapter 17- Movie Endings

Two dresses were laid out on the bed, both gorgeous, and just her style. One was simple and black, with a clean cut "v" neck with a fitted skirt, the hem falling above her knees and a bow adding detail to the low back. All in all, it was nice; a style anyone might be comfortable in, It was elegant and clearly the safe choice. But the other, that one was a bit racy, the kind that Grace, her stylist, had been nudging her towards. The champagne colored fabric sported an angled hem, and her legs would definitely be on generous display. The neckline was dangerously low and the whipsy fringe adoring the lower half of the garment was either going to be a hit or a miss with the fashion gurus. It wasn't exactly the safest option, both mechanically or when considering her new found reputation in the fashion world, but it was stunning. 

Grace had left the final decision up to Y/n, and the team had prepared shoes and accessories for both. So, there she stood, in the bedroom of the hotel suite in London, just a handful of hours away from the world premiere of the movie that would be her introduction to silver screen. And Y/n didn't even want to go.

She should have been excited, part of her wanted to be, but it was proving to be a trying task because as hard as she tried not too, all Y/n could think of was how hard it would be to face Keanu again. She couldn't avoid him that time, pretend she didn't see him or cling to someone else and act like she was okay. That night, they'd have to walk the carpet together, take pictures with broad smiles and pretend they were on good terms. But they weren't, and it was eating her up on the inside.

With a heavy sigh, Y/n plopped into an accent chair near the window, unable to help it when her thoughts inevitably strayed to worrisome ones of Keanu. Was he okay with seeing her? Would he ignore like he had at the restaurant? Or would he try to save face and act as if they were friends. Thankfully, Jackson had dropped the whole, selling them as a couple tactic after her publicist had worked in over time to get him to change his mind, eventually convincing him that it would be all too cliche for the stars to get together. 

Part of Y/n was grateful that she wouldn't have to suck up her feelings and ignore the obvious. But some of her was disappointed too, because, even though they'd split, and she'd kicked Keanu out of her apartment after he tried to apologize, Y/n still missed him. She still loved him. Above anyone else, all she wanted was him. Maybe if they'd gone along with Jackson's plan, she could have been forced to put aside her pride and let him back in.

But alas, nothing of the such happened and Y/n wouldn't begin to know how to patch things up if she ever went back to Keanu. Hell, she didn't even know if patching was possible; they made a mess, left each other with ruins of what could have been a great romance. He'd broken her down to someone who was scared, now more than ever, to love again, while Y/n had pushed Keanu into uncharted territory which he wasn't ready for. 

And still, she loved him. 

She would always love him. Even with the bitterness that lingered in her throat when she thought of everything they'd been through. Even when she reminisced on all the terrible things he'd done. Even when all she could think of was how much she wanted to hate him, all Y/n could do was love Keanu. Love him till it hurt, love him till her heart became caught in a cycle of shattering and repairing itself, love him until that was all that made sense about what they used to be. 

Maybe she'd always loved him, for the very beginning, before it all started with one kiss in her hotel room in Chicago. Maybe that was why she'd fought so hard. 

Tears pricked at her eyes, and while Y/n knew that she'd have to go out into the main room in a bit, to let the team help her get ready, she let herself sink into emotion for a while. The tears falling freely, though silently, and her chest tight, with a burning ache in the center. 

A knock on the bedroom door had Y/n jumping up from the comfort of her seat, grabbing a tissue on her way to the door. "Yeah?" It was her assistant, a red haired girl who was just about her age. 

"Um," she shuffled her feet, avoiding Y/n's gaze, "Walter," her manager, "Needs to see you. He's waiting, out on the balcony, down the end of the hall." And just like that, without even waiting for Y/n to respond, she was scuttling away nervously, not even sparing a backwards glance. It was certainly suspicious behavior for her too, usually her assistant was one of those energetic spirits, employing the kind of optimism that Y/n wish she still had. That evening though, she seemed nervous, like something was wrong.

As the troubled feeling settled in the pit of her stomach, Y/n tightened the knot on her black, floral dressing robe, shoved her feet into the nearest pair of fluffy flip flops, she marched out of the room with purpose, not caring if she was sparsely dressed beneath the silk cocoon. Grabbing nothing more than her phone, she slipped out of the suite, evading questions of Grace and the rest of her team, all more than ready to finish prepping her for the premiere. 

As she hurried down the hall, headed towards the open veranda doors, nearly stumbling on a kink in the carpet on her way. "Walter-" Gasping, Y/n cut herself off when she saw who was turning to face her, the only thing missing from his outfit being his suit coat, his shirt well fitted and tight around his biceps. "You," she stuttered accusingly, clumsily staggering backwards, “You’re the one that wanted to meet here, aren’t you?”

“I didn’t want to ask you assistant to lie,” Keanu released his grasp on the cool metal railing, fully tuning to face Y/n, though not yet making any move to approach her, “But I knew you wouldn’t come if I’d asked,” he moistened his lips, “And honestly? I don’t blame you.”

Taking a minute to absorb his presence, Y/n breathed slowly, letting her eyes settle on him. He looked so different, and just the same, all at once. He’d trimmed his beard and hair since the last time she’d spotted him at the restaurant, and Y/n suspected that his impeccable grooming had more to do with the red carpet they were set to walk than his own volition and he looked just as dashing as he usually did, though, there was a sadness in his expression and a slight hollowness around his eyes, as if he hadn’t been sleeping well. “What do you want?” It took a couple minutes to rediscover her courage, but from the minute she did, Y/n had decided that unlike the last time, she’d listen to what he had to say. She was just so tired of fighting.

Keanu’s eyes followed Y/n as she finally passed through the threshold, leaving some space between them, leaning her hip against the guard rail and folding her arms. “I want…….” to fix this, make you love me again, erase every terrible thing I’ve ever done to you. Words were hard to come by, and nervously, Keanu managed, “You, Y/n. I want you.” 

Tears pricked at her eyes, and Y/n sniffled quietly, her throat burning as she spoke, “Keanu…..I,” scoffing, she tucked some hair behind her ear, swallowing thickly, “I’m not going back to living like that with you, and-”

“No,” he cut her off, not for a second wanting her to think that he wasn’t putting his all into shaping up for her, “I’m not asking you to. I want to be the man you deserve, and you deserve someone who’s brave and can tell you exactly how he feels. And I know right now that man seems like Luke, and I hate that I’m here asking you to leave the man that makes you happy for one that broke your heart way too many times,” reaching out, Keanu took one of her hands in both of his, his breath hitching hopefully when she didn’t pull away, “But I am, because I want to change, for you.”

“I don’t want you to change,” Y/n’s broke pitifully, and a lone tear trickled down her cheek, “I never wanted you to change, I just wanted you to let me in, so I could love you for who you already are, so we could love each other,” placing her hand on top of his, Y/n sobbed quietly, “Keanu I’m so tired of trying to be mad at you. Its so hard.” Her shoulders slumped and her hung her head, and not long after, she felt the top of Keanu’s head pressing against hers, their hands jumbled between them.

“I’m tired of living without you,” he sighed, as they both sunk into the familiarity of being close, “I’m so sorry that I hurt you.”

“I’m sorry that I pushed you,” she sniffed, breathing his scent; musky cologne, cigarettes and leather. Y/n didn’t think she’d ever missed a smell that much. “I should have waited till you were ready, not forced your hand.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Keanu stepped closer and Y/n did too, “You gave me so many chances, I never deserved them, or you, not when I was acting like that.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” Y/n weaned her hands from Keanu’s cupping his face, letting her thumb graze the apple of his cheek, catching his tear before it fell, standing on her tiptoes, “You deserve every good thing that’s come to you, you’re a good man Keanu. Behind every wall you put up, beneath every nasty thing you’ve said, I know that you’re good in here,” Y/n placed her hand over his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat against her palm.

It barely took a minute of her touch for him to remember what it was liked to be loved by her, how whole he felt, like if all else faded away, what they had would be all that mattered. Why hadn’t he let himself feel it sooner? Resting his hand over hers on his chest, Keanu bent his head so his lips would graze Y/n’s. “Do you still love me?” Their noses were touching and he ended his inquisition with another brief kiss, using all his restraint to not crash his lips to hers. To say he missed her would be an understatement. He craved Y/n, every part of her; the parts that were so undeniably perfect and the parts that she hid deep within, her touch, her taste, her smell, her voice. Her everything.

“I will always love you,” she whispered, the palm on his face sliding to the back of his head, tangling in Keanu’s neat hair, neither of them caring if she messed it up, “I never stopped. But I told you, I’m not going back to the way things were before.”

“And I told you, I’m not asking you to,” he kissed her, deeper that time, arms winding around her waist, holding her flush against his chest, “I want it all with you. If you’ll have me,” he swallowed nervously, rearing back a bit to search her eyes.

Caressing the back of his neck, Y/n knew she couldn’t deny him, it was inevitable. Everything that had happened form the moment they’d met had led up to them, standing on the balcony as London’s late afternoon turned to dusk; the sun setting, the sky darkening and their affections reigniting, “I wouldn’t rather have anyone else,” lost in his trance, Y/n knew that every word said between them that day was nothing less than the truth. Everything felt different; renewed and realer, he was hers and she was his, truly and completely and for as long as they’d make it last. And they had every intention of making it last for the rest of their forever.

“What about Luke?” Just remembering that Y/n had gotten back with him, Keanu didn’t want to cause any more destruction than he already had.

“We broke up, for good this time,” Y/n shrugged, “I couldn’t do it anymore, force myself to feel something for him when all I wanted was to be with you,” she clung to Keanu, their embrace consuming and healing at the same time, “Tell me this is gonna last.”

“It’s gonna last,” he confirmed, “For as long as I’m alive, it’s gonna last. And even after that, it’ll last, I promise. In fact,” he paused, nervous as hell for some reason, wondering if he was expecting too much too soon after their reconciliation, “I was thinking, if you want, we could walk together tonight. As a couple.”

“Are you sure?” Y/n knitted her brows, knowing that going public was a big step for Keanu. It meant that they were solid, exclusive, committed. A couple with a future, who wanted the world to know that they were only for each other. “I don’t want you to feel pressured just because you want us to work out. We can take it slow.”

Shaking his head, Keanu rubbed her back affectionately, and Y/n burrowed against his chest, “I’m not doing it because of pressure, I’m doing it because I want to, for us. I want the world to know that its sweetest, most beautiful woman chose me. So, what do you say, be my exclusive girlfriend Y/n?”

Beaming, Y/n tilted her head to look up at Keanu, his smile hopeful, “I’d love to Keanu. I love you.” 

“I love you too,” he smiled wistfully and and when he leaned down to kiss her, one last time, just before he’d walk her back to her room to finish getting ready, Keanu reminisced on Ester’s advice back at the hotel, maybe it wasn’t a movie, but they could still have their happy ending. 

******

Tagging- @harrisongslimited​  @paanchu786​  @thesadvampire​  @fanficsrusz​  @fickensteinn​  @ladyreapermc​  @babygirltaina​  @septimaseverina​  @snatchedbylele​  @omg-imagine @21stcenturyyfoxx​  @magnificentclodpiebanana @allie1804-fan @keandrews  @greenmanalishi  @rdjloverxxx​ @danceoftwowolves

[raquellplanningwell]

THIS ARCANA PROLOGUE UPDATE WHOOO 🙌✨

TL:DR I loved it, it made the game even better, s/o to the creators for going back to it because I really think it makes SUCH a difference & develops the characters so beautifully, especially the three newer love interests, so many pleasant surprises throughout this play-through.  Longer Verison (If you’re up to it, please enjoy!)

Okay so when I say I’ve been aching for the creators to fix up the prologue I really mean it & this was beyond satisfying, like better than I could imagine.

There’s so many effective changes & they didn’t just fix one or two things here, they went INNN. The format has changed, things that were consistent in the story before are now in line & are much stronger with this new prologue.

Listen, I’ve tried to get multiple friends to play the Arcana & more than one have stopped at the prologue because it didn’t grasp them, this, this is a huge improvement & I got so hyped playing it.

Starting off even how Asra’s introduced feels so much smoother, not just a story thrown on you. The lost memories are mentioned & Asra delicately treats the apprentice, you see how he worries & care about them. Plus with this fun option, there’s a new chance to give your character some more personality, I love it. The Trouble option was worth it 👌🏻

Truth be told I haven’t played the prologue in a while, so perhaps some details I’m re-appreciating from the previous version but I love that they went back & changed it, like that to me, shows how much they still care, & that the creators genuinely want to improve & nurture their game

Okay changes to Nadia introduction, ALSO GREAT, @ devs thank you for not just having the apprentice follow her blindly !! Like she explains the situation & lets the apprentice know exactly why she’s calling on their services right off the bat. Another detail I liked, is Nadia showing some vulnerability in this time, there’s a description of her sleepless eyes as well & I really like that! Like she’s not just the countess, she’s a person coming to you for help.

Portia’s intro is in there!! Bless!!! My girl finally being put out as a main & I JUST CAME TO THE REALIZATION THAT MEANS SHE’S STAYING YAAAAAAAYY, VERY EXCITING STUFF 🎊🍾

This is gonna a long post, if you’re still reading, thank you as well. So next is Julian’s entrance, I appreciate the options that from my knowledge stayed the same in how you react & I choose ‘negotiate’ as my own apprentice would & the details were great lol like this breakdown from the apprentice 👇 yup that sounds like the dumbass doctor alright

Another nice detail, they exchange names earlier! The apprentice states their name when they first meet & Julian is even surprised when the apprentice doesn’t know his. And!! These warnings that come from the love interests in the beginning, that’re new characters at first, they’re not so ominous! Isn’t that awesome, like they make so much more sense with the story & who the characters are & what they know.

Like this ^ right here ^^ that is phenomenal. The wording makes sense, what he’s talking about makes more sense as you get to play the game, like it’s how it’s meant to be. Before I believe his warning was about how the “witch” cares about the MC but that they shouldn’t trust him & more than anything that made me feel confused about who to choose & what was true, even in a prologue so this change is very welcomed.

The portion with the voice in the dream & being able to pick whether to follow it or not, super glad about that like those feel like meaningful choices & even the dream scene being added, so cool! I’m assuming as of now the voice was Lucio & I think it was really well played

Muriel’s CG, I really yelled. when I say it’s incredible, like CRAZY GOOD, I mean it. The lighting, the mood, even the angle because yes he will likely be towering over the apprentice & that’s a lovely thing to consider, also his expression is so good & yes! No strange warning that sounds out of character to his route, it starts off with “...” as it should, the most Muriel line.

Even the way it’s described matches up so well lol like yes you can see you’re definitely engulfed in his shadow, he looks huge. Plus “and I look up… and up.. and up” is very funny. Again the fact that his first lines are “…” that’s perfect. I feel like the Grinch when he’s auditioning Max for Rudolph, he says nothing & throws off the nose & the Grinch goes “BRILLIANT”, that’s me. Like even Muriel stumbling back & having trouble saying anything is great. It’s how he is throughout the story, & especially in his own route, he has trouble talking to the apprentice. I’m uwuing at the stuttering too, baby, just a glimpse into what he’s gonna be like in his route & that’s a good intro in its own! 👏 This is like world’s improvement. Also if you’re still with me bless, thank you for being here & congratulations. I’m thinking of breaking this down in parts as I didn’t expect it to go so long but here we are & enjoying each minute of it.

*taps microphone* The use of the word, “bamboozled” thank you for your time.

I can’t believe this is now in the prologue, I am giddy

OKAY! Into the market we go, & Portia is introduced! She introduces herself! We don’t just accidentally bump into her! & she’s with the baker! Very cool! OKAYYYYY, lol mind you I’m typing my reaction as I play, & Portia already showing her interest in the MC being a magician like she does throughout her route, noice. She’s so cute, & you get to ask about herself right off the bat, really enjoying these changes, they add so much to the characters. It might just be me but there’s more sound effects too? The cards shuffling, the gate opening. I also really like that the charm is mentioned again. Like feels more tangible than how it was before, I wasn’t even sure we had hung onto it before & now it feels like a personal item that can actually protect the apprentice & connect them to something more.

Next Chapter, really liking how clear things are right off the bat. In the old prologue, I remember being unsure about Nadia’s relationship to Lucio, but here it seems quite apparent they don’t share the same tastes, & the apprentice gets a moment to take it all in. THE VOICEEEE, Oh that’s an awesome addition. Also @ devs thank you for mentioning some compensation for the apprentice as well. Playing the game, it’s clear Nadia takes good care of them but yeah in the beginning it was very much like, ‘why am I doing this again other than you being Countess and asking me personally’, I appreciate it. And Devorak isn’t just described as the dude who confesses, he’s introduced as the apprentice’s first lead in this investigating, awesome!! I don’t recall this from the previous prologue but we’re actually discussing more of the murder mystery of this, I definitely think this is one of the Arcana’s strong points & I’m glad they’ve added to it. The story & world building potential for this game extends infinitely. The way that the dinner with Nadia has been built upon & improved, it feels meaningful. It makes me like her even more as character, like she’s not just a political power, she’s a person trying to figure this all out, do what’s best for her people & bring them together, as well she makes the goals in this investigation very clear.

Portiaaaaa, I like that you get the chance to ask her more & she shows you more, the CG is so nice & suits her so well!! & the situation is a perfect intro to what to expect while in the palace, because that happens a lot, secret passages in just about every route, Lucio even mentions it himself in his own route how there’s so many about the palace grounds. But Portia telling you a ghost story in the Count’s wing is right on brand & I think it prepares you well for the first chapter of her route. I know I wasn’t expecting going straight for ghost hunting when I started her route.

There’s a ‘snoop around’, option now. I choose it & wow it’s a great time, tea & snacks with Nadia & Portia, bless. The scene is so fun & almost feels like a tale, like it feels special & you get to enjoy more of the love interests personalities. The mention of pepi is sweet. + the use of puns, 10/10 I love my girlfriend ✨

Nadia’s note, a lovely touch.

IV The Emeperor

The nightmares, woah!!!! Okay this !! this is super effective. When I first played the game I remember bring confused who the blond guy was, why his eyes were red, why he was even an option if he was the count that passed away but the nightmares & how they introduce him really feels full circle. It’s so cool getting the choice to interact in the dream as well, I keep finding myself impressed & amazed with these new additions. Hdbshsk he really said “What’s the matter? Goat got your tongue”. A legend, dedicated to his aesthetic 🙌

Asra’s talk in the fountain, mentioning Julian, much better. I remember last time it was him not speaking kindly of the doctor behind his back & now its more, ‘it is what it is, please be careful’ like ‘yes, thank you for the trust’. It looks better on their character when they’re a little more open & honest about the other, than to vaguely bad mouth each other. Perhaps I don’t remember it correctly but I think Asra used to call him Ilya right away & I know that caused some confusion for me in the beginning, so introducing like this is 👍 👍 👍

MALAK POPPING IN, LOOK AT THIS GOLD, & more notes!! Yes!!! Very cool, MC is just going out seeking the truth too, as they ought to be. Also Julian’s trust in Malak is astounding lmfao. 

I will say it’s very strange to take out the letter desk option but it seems like it’s good overall. The fcking Fylnn Rider moment, they’re not subtle! “They just can’t get my nose right!” 😂 something about this new dialogue feels more intimate or real, like lol yes Julian makes such a good point the apprentice could’ve just called the guards in there, that’d make sense for them to do so but they give Julian a chance & trust him, because they want to go after the truth. I gotta say I’m surprised the CG works so well even with the new content, like they got the mood just spot on.

I’m just speeding through Julian’s convo at this point getting really into it & wow soon Portia’s there then Muriel, ‘what the fuck is going on’, I said aloud at this point. I gotta say, as much as I’m loving hearing all these details right in the beginning, it got me thinking they’re things that’re revealed later. When Julian “breaks up” with the apprentice in his route, he explains the plague, like it really has got me wondering if they’re gonna adjust the rest of the story, to not avoid repetition. THE MURIEL INTERACTION HERE IS SO GOOD, I LIVE. There’s also another paid option with Muriel, this is GREAT & for some reason they’ve been already unlocked to me. (I’m guessing it’s because I had a prologue scene with Julian & a few books acquired) but either way I’m very grateful. Muriel is the best baby & honestly this is really introducing his character so nicely, him walking you, him questioning that you didn’t run away knowing about the ghosts, works well with his route’s path, all while maintaining the “Go away!” “B-but not too close!” tsundere preciousness, GOOD SHT. lastly I love that instead of saying “don’t trust the witch” they show you that Asra hasn’t told you certain events throughout the prologue, with Muriel & Julian being surprised that he wouldn’t mention these things to you.

Pure

Okay so all done! Thoughts, I love that they went back to it, I’m curious to see if they’ll do anything else with it but the changes are very welcomed, I think they’ve improved it greatly. I will say it’d be nice to be able to maneuver through the prologue’s chapters but honestly that update was so remarkable, I’m very grateful.

[heartofsnark]

This Is Love (Chapter Ten): The Snakes We Don’t See

Notes: Kinda been sitting on the two most recent chapters, since I like started to write some cyberpunk 2077 stuff. So, thats why its been a while, but given how short the prologue for that fic is, I decided to go ahead and update this this month as well. 

Word Count:  13277

Chapter Warnings: Child Abuse (excerpts from the book of joseph), Suicide (non-graphic but still), A body horror dream (my favorite) with some symbolism/implications of sexual assault, discussion of religion, and really really way too blunt on the nose foreshadowing

For chapter one and the warnings about this fic’s overarching themes, please click here!

For the previous chapter; click here!

The church and compound look beautiful in the moonlight, Dahlia can’t help but note as she drives Cassie towards it. The modest white buildings and the silver gate work looking beautiful beneath a blanket of stars. It’s not a steady bustle of activity like it was last time, thanks in large part to the late hour, she’s sure. But there’s a few church members meandering around the outside of the church, beyond the gate. Which, to her dismay is being watched by Theodore. It had to be one of the two members who hate her, didn’t it? Because life can’t just kick her in the teeth once and call it done, no, it has to throw in a few extra hits for good measure. The towering man is glaring at her as she comes to a slowed down stop before the gate. 

“Though I doubt it’s why you’re here, service is over, so save me a headache and scram.” 

“No can do, I gotta talk to Joseph.” 

“Pfff,” he scoffs at her, “you arrest me, ruin service, and then come around demanding an audience with The Father. Gotta hand it to you, nothing else, you got balls.” 

“Technically, Hudson arrested you, I wasn’t hired yet.” 

“You think that helps?” 

“Come on man, this ain’t about me.” 

He looks past her to Cassie, still holding onto Dahlia’s back, face ducked down to hide away from his amber gaze. Dahlia can see gears turning in his head and he sighs, rolling his eyes. 

“Fine, you can come through, but only ‘cause The Father likes you.” 

“Thanks,” Dahlia parks her bike, Cassie handing her back her helmet before the pair walk into the compound. 

“That guy at the gate is kind of…a lot.” 

“Eh, he doesn’t like me much, but he’s not that bad. Lonny’s probably the biggest d-bag I’ve met here, Jacob and his…friends, if you can call ‘em that, are a bit rough. But, even then, I’m seen more friendly faces than I’ve seen cruel ones.” 

A few people recognize Dahlia from the barbecue, giving her a kind smile and a friendly wave as she passes by in search of Joseph. She returns the kind gestures but stays focused on her goal. Dahlia isn’t quite sure she’s ready to fulfill her promise of stepping foot into the church just yet, but if they’re freshly done with service, that’d be where she’d find him. 

“Deputy,” a soft angelic voice speaks out, Faith walking through the compound  yard towards them, her hair is done up in plaits with flowers twisted in them, “is everything okay?” 

“Uh, not really? I was hoping to talk to Joseph? If he’s around.” Of course he’s around, she’s not sure why she’s acting like there’s a chance he’s not here. 

“Sure, I’ll go get him right away.” 

She breathes a sigh of relief when she sees him, walking out of the church with Faith beside him, she’s never been happier to see a preacher in her entire life. Dahlia looks over at Cassie and sees the raised eyebrow, which is understandable. Joseph is Joseph, strange and weird, shirtless with a myriad of sins and tattoos etched into his skin, and yellow aviators on despite the silver moonlight that covers them all. But at the moment, that moonlight gives him a halo, a saving grace for a shitty night. 

“Deputy, I’m surprised to see you so soon,” Josephs greets her,

“Yeah, I’m sorry to bug you, but I…we,” Dahlia looks back at the still timid Cassie, duffle bag held out in front of her lap,  “need some help. I didn’t know who else to turn to.” 

“Of course, if there’s anything I can do to help, I will.” 

“Well, Joseph, Faith, this is my friend Cassie, Cassie this is Joseph and Faith,” Dahlia first introduces them

“Hi…” Cassie gives an awkward nod of her head. 

“A pleasure to meet you,” Joseph responds with a warm smile, “though I feel there’s more to this than friendly introductions.”

His gaze lingers on Dahlia’s knuckles, still stained with Liam’s blood. 

“Okay, so, Cassie’s home life is,” Dahlia pauses and looks to Cassie, searching for words that she might be comfortable with the deputy using, “bad, she’s not safe there. That’s all I’ll say. So, I was letting her stay with me but….recent events mean it ain’t too safe there either.” 

“I’m so sorry, I’m sure this has been difficult on the two of you.” 

“Difficult is a word for it; but more importantly, I hear Eden’s Gate takes folks in.” 

“Deputy…”

“I know it’s a lot to ask, I know it’s short notice, and I-“ 

A large warm hand grasps her shoulder and she doesn’t flinch, not this time.

“I’m honored you’d come to me for help.” 

And she feels his sincerity in his touch, hears it in every word, and sees it in his eyes. It’s hard to believe how much she distrusted him at first, she curses her past for coloring her view. He’s strange certainly, but he’s good.

“So, I take it you can help?” 

“Of course, my child.” 

“We have plenty of space at the convent,” Faith chimes in with a soft smile, looking from Joseph to Cassie. 

“Thank you, thank you, seriously, thank you so much,” Cassie gushes, relief swimming in her dark eyes. 

“We can get you settled in tonight.” 

“That’s so sweet, I can’t thank you enough.” 

“We’re happy to help,” then Joseph’s eyes turn to Dahlia, “will you be alright though, deputy?”

Joseph suddenly catches her hand in his own, brushing his fingers over her bloodied knuckles, no sign of hesitation at the rough sight. Brows furrowed in concern. 

“Oh yeah, it’s not mine, don’t worry, uh,” she catches herself, “that sounds bad, but like dude was gonna torch my trailer so, it was like okay to punch him, I think.” 

“Wait, what?”  Cassie’s eyes go wide as she looks to Dahlia, she must not have seen Liam with the lighter, only Dahlia striking him. 

“Yeah, dude was gonna fuckin’ torch the place, so I blacked his eye. More than fair, if you ask me.” 

“Okay, first,” Cassie starts and Dahlia smiles as a bit of the girl’s personality peeks through her fear, “I didn’t know it was that bad. Secondly, I don’t think you’re suppose to talk like that in front of a church and it’s preacher.” 

“I also shouldn’t have worn a shirt that said ‘hail satan’ to their sermon.” 

“You what?” 

“Look, in my defense,” Cassie is covering her mouth and laughing, a welcomed sight, “I don’t think, okay, you think I think and I just don’t alright.” 

Dahlia is laughing through her own words, face flushed red at being the butt of the joke, but if it can bring a smile to Cassie’s face right now she’d make a thousand more mistakes like it.  Faith’s little melodic giggles ring out behind her own hand. Joseph doesn’t laugh but he does smile. With the tension of Cassie’s housing eased, everyone seems in a brighter mood. 

“And despite all that, you still like her?” Cassie asks, looking up at Joseph and Faith.

“I’d get mad but like, fair fuckin’ question.” 

“I’ve forgiven sins and transgressions far greater than yours,  deputy,” Joseph says and his eyes are intense, kind, but the word sins makes the hair on the back of her neck stand up. It’s not a fun word, but most religions have a ‘everyone’s born a sinner’ mentality. So, surely she can’t be too upset. 

“Your patience is both staggering and appreciated, I assure you,” Dahlia tells him, her smile a bit more forced than it was a moment ago. If he can tell he doesn’t say anything. 

“Come on Cassie, I’ll introduce you to everyone and we’ll get you settled, okay?” 

“Yeah, that sounds nice.” 

Faith grabs Cassie’s hand and leads her away with a giggle, the sigh of the flower adorned woman leading her away in the night reminds Dahlia of her odd dream before. The draw of Faith, the siren pulling someone away in the moonlight. But that’s silly, Dahlia tells herself, they’re climbing into a pickup truck drove by another church member, yelling goodbyes to Joseph and Dahlia with smiles on their face. Yet the image of a siren dragging a victim into the sea pricks at her mind, despite how asinine it may be.  

Dahlia shakes her head, wondering why her nerves have suddenly ticked up. She’s over this, isn’t she? Eden’s Gate is good, she reminds herself, one of the few good things in this county that’s actually helping people instead of letting them drift into the cracks. Despite everything she’s heard, they’re good.  Her personal issues is just fucking with her, that has to be it. 

“Are you certain you’ll be okay, Deputy?” Joseph asks as the truck rolls down the curves of the road, disappearing over the horizon, Cassie gone with it. 

“Uh, yeah, gave the guy a hell of a shiner so he should cut the shit for a while. Should be fine.” 

“Is it?” 

“Fuck if I know, but what am I gonna do, sit around and cry about it?” 

“I certainly wouldn’t expect you to, but if something does happen, you know you can come to me.” 

“Yeah, uh, it means a lot,” Dahlia scratches at the back of her neck, his gaze too intense again, “and thanks again for helping out Cassie. It means a lot, I really don’t know if I can thank you enough.” 

“You could always attend church, if you wanted to show thanks.” 

“Patient but persistent, I see, but, uh, not quite ready to cash in that promise yet.”

“I understand but, I’d be remiss if I didn’t caution you. My patience may be staggering, but the world is not so kind. Time is finite and you window for finding salvation may be closing quicker than you know.” His voice is fevered and impassioned,  hints of a southern accent peeking through as his intensity rises, awash in moonlight the glow of it around turns from a halo to an eerie glow.

“Okay, not holding back, are you?” Dahlia tries to laugh it off, religious folks are just like this sometimes, aren’t they?

“I would be doing you a disservice if I did.”

“So…you think the worlds ending?” She asks, trying to keep her tone light, the only other interpretation of her window closing is Joseph’s convinced she’ll die soon.

“You don’t?” He questions, brows furrowed, as if the idea of the world not ending is ridiculous. And…she kind of gets that.

“I didn’t say that,” she moves to lean her back against the church building, standing next to Joseph instead of before him, looking at the stars, “I mean eventually humans are gonna destroy the planet, climate change, corporate pollution, not to mention us just trying to kill each other half the time. And even if we don’t fuck it up, eventually time will, sun’s going to go to the next stage and destroy the earth. So…”

“You sense it coming, too..”  He presses his back against the wood next to her, no longer focusing his stare on her but the moon, maybe he sense her unease with his gaze…

“Yeah…I guess, don’t know when or how, but eventually…”

The itch of nerves under her skin is too strong, she digs a cigarette from it’s pack and lights it, smoking against the church building. John warned her it’s forbidden by Eden’s Gate, that Joseph wouldn’t like such an act, but he doesn’t stop her in the moment. Whether it’s another moment of him showing her kindness or just consideration for her not being apart of the church, she doesn’t know.  

“Yet, you still put off salvation.”

“Okay,” she exhales a plume of smoke, “I’ll bite, what’d that fix?”

“When the world collapses those who’ve followed the path to Eden, confessed their sins, atoned, and made their sacrifice will be the ones who walk into the garden, into New Eden. A world cleansed of sin and turmoil. The world will be pure again, free of pain.”

New Eden sounds like their heaven, essentially, to Dahlia. So, nothing truly new by any religious standards. Almost every Christian religion has a doomsday, revelation, apocalypse, end of the world and those who do what god wants get to be super happy in some magic paradise, while everyone else burns. Same stuff, new label.

“Well, as much as your concern for my immortal soul is appreciated, I’m gonna have to pass.”

“You’ll come to understand eventually… I just hope it’s not too late.”  

She scratches at the back of her neck again, his words leaving a bad taste in her mouth that mingles with the nicotine, it feels dismissive of her… Like he claims to know her feelings and where they’ll end up better than she does. There’s a habit among those older than her to assume they know how the world works more than she does, she chalks it up to an old man thing, and lets it roll off her back. He still helped her, despite his faults. 

“We’ll have to agree to disagree, but I do appreciate everything, I’ll have to when I get a chance call Cassie and see how she’s settles in.” 

“I’m afraid that won’t be so simple.” 

“What?” She turns to look at Joseph now, raising an eyebrow, why wouldn’t she be able to call Cassie?

“While Cassie is staying with us, we do expect her to abide by our rules. There are no cellphones permitted in the convent, I’m sure you understand.” 

“Oh,” Dahlia blinks, “guess that explains why not a single person was on their phone at the barbecue.” 

“Smartphones and social media have eroded people’s values, they’re more concerned with it than they are their own family.” 

“Okay, okay, I get it; the convent have a landline or Satan manage to get through that too?” His expression hardens, unimpressed by her quip, though she can’t help but smile. After a moment, he sighs. 

“There is a landline available there, but it’s typically reserved for church matters. If you wish to check on her, visiting and writing letters would be ideal.” 

“Got it, I’ll keep that in mind,” she moves from her spot against the church exterior, “thanks again, Joseph. I’ll talk to you, later.” 

“Have a nice night, Deputy.” 

“You too.” 

Dahlia stubs out her cigarette once she’s outside the compound’s gates, climbing onto her motorcycle. She didn’t realize how isolated Cassie might be there, if she’s not even allowed to call her friend. It just doesn’t sit right. But, Joseph’s far from the only old religious man to claim technology is bad. And if Cassie is living with them, it’s natural to expect her to follow the same guidelines as everyone else. It was already asking a lot for them to house her, it’d be unthinkable to expect special treatment as well. 

The trailer park is far calmer when she rides through, damage already done, Dahlia sighs at the sight of all the havoc they caused. It’s already well past midnight, but her night is far from done. There’s glass to be cleaned up and windows to be covered until she can get supplies to fix them properly. She could care less about the spray paint and if needed she can sleep through the chill, but she’d at least like to not sleep on broken glass. 

She’s parked and locked up her bike, walking up her porch when she hears the crush of steps, someone clearing their throat. Liam stands, hands in his pockets and a mottle of bruises across his eye. His blues eyes look anywhere but her. 

“Dude, seriously, just go. I-”

“I’m sorry…,” he mumbles, clearing his throat again, searching for words, “I didn’t know she was in there, I really didn’t. Clyde said she left out and he hadn’t seen her come back, we thought the place was empty and-”

“And? You could have killed her, ignorance don’t cure third degree burns!”  She’s taken steps towards him, nearly yelling in his face now, she can see hurt in his face. He may not have meant to take a life, but in one dumb moment he nearly did and he damn well needs to know that. 

“I know, I know, I just…no one got hurt, she, she ain’t hurt, right?” 

“No, thank fuck, but that doesn’t make it okay? Even if you didn’t hurt you, you scared the fuck out of her, this was suppose to be a safe place for her and you destroyed that!” 

“I’m sorry, okay, I… I can’t fuckin’ say sorry enough and I mean it. I just we were drinking and thought we’d see if we could run ya out of here, it got out of hand.” 

“You hate cops, I get that, I do and quite frankly you wanna give me hell, have at it. There ain’t anything you can do to me that hasn’t already been done. But shit like that doesn’t just affect me, hell, you could of set the whole damn place on fire.” 

“Yeah, I, fuck I nearly pulled a Sharky.” 

“I’m…not sure what you mean by that, ‘cause last thing I saw that man do was…very different. But, uh, if you’re doing that too you should stop.” Her stomach churns at the reminder of Boshaw in his jeep, she really was hoping she repressed that. 

“I don’t even wanna know,” Liam shakes his head, “but I am sorry about Cassie…I’d like to apologize to her, if she’s around.” 

“Fat chance of that man, I found her another place to stay, she’s somewhere safe and far away from your ass.” The convent isn’t particularly far away, but he doesn’t need to know that. 

“I deserve that.” 

“Fuck yeah, you do.” 

“Well, I said my piece, I assume I’ll be seeing the inside of a cell tomorrow?” 

She chews her lip for a moment, he strikes her as genuine, in both his remorse and ignorance. He wasn’t trying to become a murderer, he only mean to run her out of the trailer park. And at the end of it all, Cassie is safe. 

“Nah man, it’ll  be fine, so long as you don’t pull this shit again. You do and I’ll be in jail for killing your ass.” 

“Gotcha…thanks…I think.” 

“Now, fuck off, I got a mess to clean. Unless you care enough to help?” 

“Hell no,  have fun, narc,” Liam scoffs at the idea and leaves, clear his remorse was only ever for Cassie’s sake. Asshole.  She watches him vanish into his own trailer before finally walking into her own to start on her night of work. 

That night and next day are monotonous, mess cleaned up and windows covered just as the sun starts to rise over the horizon. Muscles aching and a damp sweat clinging to her skin, she showers and catches a few hours of sleep. When she wakes up she’s off to the local hardware store and buying what she needs to fix the windows, as well as some damage done inside the trailer. 

The sun is setting on the next day by the time all the damage is attended to, well everything but the graffiti of PIG across the outside of the trailer. But, she doesn’t have the energy to wash it away. Lounging around her living room after another shower, Dahlia finds her mind drawn back to Cassie and The Seeds. 

No phone calls, only letter writing. It seems so unnecessarily archaic in the modern age, though she may mostly be whining because her handwriting is completely illegible. It’s too late to drop in on the convent, plus she doesn’t particularly want to move. After last night, she likes the idea of a lazy night. And with her long at time hard to predict workdays, it may not be possible to swing by for more than a moment until the weekend. 

She doesn’t have to write her letter, at least not by hand, she decides as she opens her laptop. She’ll type it up and print it out at the station, then she can send it like a proper letter, to appease Joseph’s hatred of tech. 

“Hey, Cassie, Deputy whatever (did I tell you my last name, legit can’t remember?) here. Joseph said you guys can’t like call? I guess? But you can get letters, so given my handwriting, typing it instead. I just wanted to check in on you, make sure you’re settling in. Maybe this weekend I can visit? I’ll treat you to lunch.”

That sounds alright, she decides, saving the typed letter. She drums her fingers against the table, searching for something else to maintain her attention. The Book of Joseph with her drawing tucked inside of it is still nearby, Joseph’s lecture of last night coming to mind. Maybe, she could write him a thank you letter? He seems like the kind of guy who’d appreciate that, she opens another document. 

“Dear Joseph,

That’s how you format a letter, right? Sorry, social media has “eroded” my soul and the art of letter writing is lost on my generation. That’s a joke, I hope it’s somewhat funny, if not sorry. My handwriting is atrocious, so I hope a typed letter still fits into your beliefs, since I’m trying here. I just wanted to thank you in some small way, despite some of our different beliefs, you’ve been incredibly kind to me and my friend. I read somewhere that drawings can be like gifts? So, I drew something for you. I hope it’s a nice gesture and not creepy, but it can’t be as creepy as the portrait in your book and creepy is kind of your thing, so. Also a joke, I promise I’m trying to be funny not mean… I’ll end this now, thanks again, Me, Cassie, and my eroded damned soul appreciate it. “

Dahlia saves the letter to Joseph, it’s messy and awkward, but so is she. She’ll print and mail them both out tomorrow. Hopefully, she won’t have to put her proper name on an envelope to send it. The idea of no one knowing her name is fun, she wants to play into it. The mysterious deputy who no one knows, sounds way cooler than she is. 

She stretches her arms out and puts her laptop aside, grabbing the Book of Joseph, the conversation with Joseph has renewed her interest in learning more about his beliefs. Even if they don’t align, even if she’ll never believe in god, the least she can do is try to understand. She made harsh initial judgments and still struggles with her past effecting her thoughts, making what could be nothing into red flags, this is a way to make amends. Even if Joseph isn’t able to see her efforts, it means something to her, growing as a person. 

“Not ice cream trucks, not social services cars, not even police patrols.

In any case. In these parts, people kept their noses out of other people's business, even when that business took place on a porch out in the open.

The father thrashed his arms furiously while the boy, young Joseph Seed stood with his head bowed, contrite and seemingly fixated on the floorboards. If he had looked up, he would have seen the kaleidoscopic colors of an old issue of Spiderman flashing by, alternating with the smooth black leather of his father's Bible and the ruddy face of the father himself. He would have seen the grey teeth-few and far between-of Old Man Seed, as the locals called him, or Old Man Seed behind his back, as Josephs big brother Jacob had snickered to him. Dental care was not a priority in the Seed household. The money was needed for other things. So, his father's teeth always reminded Joseph of the rocky crags that pirate ships washed up on in picture books at the library.”

She tries to see them, a young Joseph and Jacob on their porch. It’s both easy and difficult all at once. A part of her can easily see in her mind, the two young boys with freckled faces and bright blue eyes, one ginger and the other brunette. But, connecting that to who she knows to be Joseph and Jacob Seed is more difficult. It’s always weird to imagine old people when they were young, old to her she should specify.  To imagine the mountain that is Jacob Seed as a young boy, laughing behind his abusive father’s back. To see Joseph as a little boy reading comic books and pirate stories. The images seem so far removed from the tall intense older men she knows now. 

The life they’ve lived is one she knows well, no media beyond the bible, and beatings for breaking rules. But, her own abuser was more hidden, pretending to be a pillar of the community with his wonderful little church while beating her black and blue behind closed doors. Behind a church following service was the most brazen he ever became; it’s hard to imagine a man bold enough to beat his children in broad daylight on his porch. Though, she has no doubt what she reads is true. She’s seen Joseph’s back, his distaste for shirts making every scar a public display, she knows the lash marks well. Her own back marred with them as well. 

It makes her wonder, how they could be so different in their takeaways… Joseph if anything has turned to religion, leading his own church and group, taking issue with the sinfulness of modern media. Though, by no means an abuser, it’s hard to debate that he now shares qualities with his father, if only regarding religiosity. 

Dahlia once heard that people grow up to be their parents, particularly their same sex parents. Which is an all at once terrifying prospect for most people, but especially for people like her and the Seeds. The prospect she could be anything like her mother, watching passively as her own child is abused, bending to the will of a man and losing herself completely; is downright terrifying. Dahlia is determined to not let that happen, but it’s still a fear. She can see ways they match; both physically and in certain traits. Dahlia wonders if Joseph sees the way he matches his father and if those qualities scare him too. If he worries his faith has turned him into that same monster. She wonders too about Jacob, if his surliness is a part of that, if he sees any of his father in himself. 

“The priority in the Seed household, as everyone in the neighborhood knew, was cheap whiskey, which the father drank from dawn 'til dusk. The more whiskey that went in, the more Bible verses that came out -and the more often his children felt the switch. 

The cause of the paternal fury was simple: comics were forbidden in the home - comics and books, records, magazines, radio, and television. Only the Bible was allowed. 

Once, when the entire elementary school went to see Gone with the Wind at an old theatre in town, Joseph's father had leapt up in rage like a drunken jack-in-the-box, and before stunned teachers and students, launched into a rambling sermon condemning the sins of Hollywood, insisting this Babylon had long perverted the most fragile of minds and was responsible for the downfall of all of America, with Joseph under one arm and Jacob under the other, he stormed out of the room still hurling curses.”

Dahlia doesn’t have many blessings to count, but Monroe never dragged her from school with a sermon. Only making her withdraw and begin homeschooling the moment he learned the public school had the nerve to provide even shoddy sex education. But she’d take a quiet withdrawal from the system over being physically dragged out before everyone. 

“This time, when they arrived home, he beat Jacob only, because he was the eldest and thus responsible for his younger brother. At least the brothers had had time to see Atlanta burn. Thus, when Old Man Seed stood on the porch and began sliding off his belt, the child simply removed his T-shirt, folded it carefully, and bent over to offer his pale, delicate back to the worn-out strap of leather. 

Joseph's head was turned toward the well maintained- at least by local standards - house of a quiet, gentle widow. He considered it a blessing, if a small one. Facing the other way, he would have had to look at the other neighbor's house, which even by local standards was so run-down as to be hideous to the eye. When they were younger, the widow used to bake them cakes, probably out of pity for them. The children's mother wasn't exactly an impressive chef. She wasn't exactly a loving mother either. But the widow didn't bake much of anything anymore now that she was dying of cancer. Instead, she spent her days in her porch rocking chair, rain or shine, tottering gently. Jacob and Joseph argued over whether the groaning came from the wooden rocking chair or the old women.”

Dahlia closes the book, marking the page at that point, she can’t deny the intensity of the content and the impact it has on her. She can only stomach so much at a time, trauma too close to her own. Talks of a lackluster mother and the kindness of strangers only adding to it all. Maybe one day she’ll talk to Joseph about this, how he can bless those who hurt him in such a way,  how he has managed to be so open about it. It all seems to be a level of maturity she can’t imagine reaching, how much work and growth does it take to accomplish that?

She falls asleep that night thinking of just how much work she has left to do, just how far she has to go as a person. How long will it take her to be okay with her past? Thoughts fade to black as she succumbs to her heavy eyelids. 

The sun is bright and high in the bright blue sky, deceptively cherry for what her and Pratt are being called out to. Despite shifting opinions on Joseph, she can’t deny that the statue still creeps her the fuck out. As they drive further upward, the sheer scale of the cement monument takes her breath away. How much time and work went into that? Joseph doesn’t seem to have an ego, but to an outsider this downright makes him look like a narcissist. They don’t go fully up the mountain, where the trail forms stone circular steps and rings around the base of the statue. From where they park, she can see gazebos with flowers woven into them that line the open space around it. 

There’s a small crowd waiting for them at the base of the mountainside the statue is built on, a section of it just beneath the stone Joseph’s hand is carved slightly down. Ledges with spots to grapple along comes down to the ground. The statue blocks out the sun when they stand beneath it, the visage of Joseph towering over them like a kaiju is both terrifying and hilarious to the young deputy. 

The ambulance is already there, body bag being brought inside of it, sparing the deputies from seeing what remained of the person after they jumped. Rocky ground where the man would have hit is painted with a white Eden’s Gate symbol, blood now staining the dark rock and white paint. 

Faith and a few Eden’s Gate members are nearby. The youngest Seed sits on a stone, adorned in one of her delicate white dresses, her blonde hair pulls back in a soft ponytail today. Her feet are still bare, as if someone’s blood isn’t mere inches from her, as if a body bag isn’t being rolled into an ambulance. Faith leans back on her hands, humming softly, kicking her feet gently in tune to her little song. Does this even faze her?

“Not much to do here,” the EMT tells Pratt and Dahlia, “another suicide, guy hit his head off the cliff before he even reached the ground, dead on arrival.” 

“This happen a lot?” Dahlia asks, looking between Pratt and the EMT. They talked as if this happens every day. 

“Kinda, “ Pratt admits, “I mean, it’s easy to access and tall as fuck, people have been jumping off to die since the peggies finished building it.” 

“Hope County’s version of The Golden Gate Bridge.” 

“That’s…fucked.” 

“We gotta get to the morgue, call the next of kin, don’t know if there’s much else for you all to handle.” 

“Alright, thanks for the help.” 

Pratt and Dahlia wave off the EMT as the ambulance drives away; leaving the deputies with Faith and the Eden’s Gate members. It’s only natural to ask the owners of the statue a few questions, if they saw or heard anything. Faith seems to know this, given her soft smile as she waits for them, this really must be a normal occurrence. 

“Hello, deputies,” she greets them as they wander off, “it’s a shame really, that a symbol of hope is used by the hopeless to end their own suffering.” 

“I’m sure your heart is breaking, but, don’t suppose there’s any chance you saw anything?’ 

“No, I’m afraid no one was here this morning or late last night.” 

“Of course,” Pratt says, more annoyed than anything and if this is the typical, Dahlia can understand why. There’s not much they can really do, it’s a tragedy, but unless there was another party involved it’s not really a police matter. 

But, Dahlia wonders why the statue is so enticing a spot for suicide? It’s tall of course, the fall is a certain death. But, there are so many bridges around as well, not that she’s in that mental state at the moment but she imagines falling into water to die would be more enticing than hitting rock. And it’s odd as well, that the impact spot is marked with their symbol.

“Why is the ground painted?” 

“Hmm?” Faith hums out an inquisitive noise, blinking at the deputy’s sudden question. 

“The ground here, your church symbol is on it, I was just wondering why? Doesn’t seem like you can or would do much in this exact spot?” 

Dahlia’s reminded of a bible passage, one of many she recalls from her childhood. The story of Satan trying to tempt Jesus to jump from a high cliff in Jerusalem, that if he’s truly the child of god he’d be safe, to give a leap of faith. It sticks in the back of her mind, nagging at her, surely that wouldn’t be a thing? 

“Oh, I know it’s silly, but we like to put our symbol of hope and faith wherever we can, even in the smallest of places.” 

“Uh, this isn’t like a thing, is it?” Dahlia asks before she can stop herself. 

“Rook,” Pratt scolds her for the accusatory question. But Faith giggles. 

“You really have a vivid imagination, don’t you, Rook? I don’t imagine we’d keep many members if we were pushing them off a statue.” 

“Yeah, sorry,” that was dumb, Dahlia realizes the second she hears it out loud, “I think I’ve been watching too many horror movies.” 

“Next, you’ll be accusing us of drugging our members,” Faith says, giggling with a soft smile on her face and Dahlia laughs along, yeah, she’s being ridiculous. 

“Okay, well with that out of the way, we’ll get out of your hair,” Pratt speaks up, ready to go back to the station, not that there was much for them to do. 

“Uh, actually, I did wanna ask you something, real quick, about Cassie,” Dahlia pipes up, before they leave. Pratt raises an eyebrow, looking at Dahlia. 

“She’s settling in really well, she already feels like a part of the family, I assure you.” Faith squeezes Dahlia’s shoulder, warm in it’s reassurance. 

“Thanks, I’m hoping I can visit before too long.” 

“Oh, that’d be wonderful!” Faith captures both of Dahlia’s hands this time, grinning and stepping into the deputy’s personal space. Her and Joseph are both so touchy, it catches her off guard. 

“Well, it’s been nice talking to you Faith, but we really need to be headed back now, c’mon, Rook.” 

“Coming,” Dahlia calls out following behind a fast walking Pratt, one final wave goodbye to Faith. 

Dahlia is fastening her seat belt in the cruiser, Pratt starting up the engine and taking them back down that winding road. There’s a palpable tension that eases with every step away from that statue. Whoever at Eden’s Gate approved it is ridiculous. 

“Didn’t know you and Faith were so close.” 

“We get along alright, her and Joseph helped me out this weekend.” 

“What, you ditch the barbecue to hang out with peggies?” 

“No,” she rolls her eyes, “my friend Cassie was staying with me, some shit happened at the Moonflower, they offered to help her out.” 

“Since when do you have friends?” 

“Hahaha, hilarious. Look, it’s not like I planned for shit to go sideways, why do you even care?” 

“I don’t.” 

“Sure seems like you do.” 

“I don’t, you wanna run around with peggies, that’s your business, but it’s not gonna do you any favors around here.” 

“Oh no, are the popular girls not gonna like me if I sit with the peggies?” Dahlia says with mock worry, pressing her hand to her chest. What kind of high school bullshit is this?

“Shut up, I’m fuckin’ serious, the only people who like peggies are peggies. Since when do you like that shit anyway?”

“I don’t like it, I’m not into religion, you know that. Just, I don’t know, doesn’t mean they aren’t chill.” 

“Eden’s Gate is not fuckin’ chill, they’re weird and a pain in the ass.” 

“They’re definitely weird, you know social media has eroded my soul?”  

“What they find out you shared John’s shitty commercial on Twitter?” 

“Huh, no? How’d you know that?” Dahlia’s careful to keep herself hard to identify online, her Twitter has no name, job, or location. Though, unless Eden’s Gate is broadcasting their cheesy crap all over the nation, that’d be easy for a Hope County Native too figure out. 

“Petunia’s your icon on there.” 

“I didn’t realize you could tell the difference in opossums.” In Dahlia’s defense, Petunia looked adorable eating her lunch that day and again, she assumed anyone would just think it was a random opossum picture. 

“I know Petunia when I see her, give me some credit,” he rolls his eyes, “you know John’s gonna kill you if he does find out.” 

“Well, it’s a damn good thing Eden’s Gate doesn’t use social media then.” 

“Ah, yes, because as we all know no one ever disobeys their religion. I for one am still a picture perfect altar boy.” 

“Loo-you’re Catholic?” The realization hits her and she looks bewildered at her partner’s profile. Granted, she rarely thinks about anyone’s religion, but for Pratt it seems all the more confusing. He hardly seems religious by any standard. 

“I was raised Catholic,” he specifies and she nods her head, “Joey was too.” 

“Neither of you are anymore?” 

“I really can’t be bothered to give a fuck about it anymore, it is what it is, pretty sure Joey completely gave up on any of it.” 

“There’s not a lot of practicing Catholics in this area, is there?” She’s pretty sure Montana is mostly protestants. 

“No, the church in Falls End is Hope’s Catholic church, and it’s always been small. Me and Joey were damn near the only kids even.” 

Dahlia can’t help but smile, thinking of Hudson and Pratt as kids. She always had the feeling they’d known each other for a long while, both talking about Hope County like they’ve been here all their lives. Hudson is a little older, but not much, so it just makes sense that in this small a place they’d known each other as children. 

“How long have you guys known each other?”  

“We playing fifty questions or something?” 

“I’m curious!” 

“No, your turn asshole. You wanna grill me on religion and shit, you get it back.” 

“You already know how I feel about religion.” 

“I know you didn’t wanna go to church and were a weirdo about it, that’s it.” 

“Uhh,” she breathes, he’s right that it’s only fair to answer the same questions he answered for her, “my actual dad was Catholic, my mom  was Jewish, then she remarried a fundie Preacher, Pentecostal, so that’s how I was raised, unfortunately.” 

“So, you were zigzagged all over as far as that goes.” 

“Eh, I mean, before she remarried, neither my mother or dad were like devout or felt they had to raise me a certain way. Like, I think I vaguely remember getting both Christmas and Hannukah when I was three?”  She tries to pull up the fuzzy memory of when her mother, back when she was a true mother, helped her light a menorah and her dad hoisted her up to put a star on a modest Christmas tree. 

“You believe in anything nowadays.” 

“I consider myself an atheist at best.” 

“At worst?” 

“Well, if god does exist, he’s an asshole and I’d like to break his nose.” 

That gets a laugh out of Pratt and Dahlia grins, she knows it sounds silly, but it’s true. How she genuinely feels, she doesn’t think anyone is watching over them, no singular or multiple gods, but if any creator can watch idly by as everyone suffers… Not someone she’d want to be worshipping, quite frankly.  

The day winds down with little else for the deputies to do. Beyond the station windows the sky starts to turn pink, sun setting on another workday. Dahlia is fiddling with her phone, walking out of the station. 

“You coming to The Spread Eagle tonight,” Hudson asks her, “I know you haven’t really been since that asshole gave you a hard time.” 

“Oh uh, yeah, I could tag along.” Dahlia scratches at the back of her neck, feeling the heat climb up her face. She can see concern in Hudson’s olive-green eyes, which isn’t helping the blush across the young deputy’s face. 

“C’mon then, probie,” Pratt calls out, giving Dahlia a playful smack on the shoulder as he passes by. 

It’s the usual sight as Stray walks into The Spread Eagle; rock-folk music on the Jukebox tonight, couples dancing or sharing drinks, workers in flannels and dirty boots grabbing a drink after a long day. They slide into their usual seats, the youngest deputy between her two superiors, there’s a warmth to the  low lights and wood interior. Mary May’s soft smile greeting them as she serves the rest of the patrons. 

“I don't care if it rains!

Let's all go to the bar!

I don't care if there's a hurricane!

Let's all go to the bar!”

“I’ve been stuck on desk duty all day,” Hudson speaks over the music, starting the evening conversation with a groan, “so please tell me you two had something interesting happen.” 

“Suicide out at Joseph’s statue, that’s about it.” Dahlia shrugs, nothing else really of note. 

“Ugh, if I was near that statue I’d kill myself too.” 

“It gives my heebie jeebies the heebie jeebies, not gonna lie.” 

“Really, Rook, but Joseph’s your new best friend, remember?” Pratt cuts in to taunt the Junior Deputy.

“I have a finger for you.”

“You aren’t buddying up with the Seeds, are you deputy?” Mary May’s voice rings out as she sets drinks and food in front of the three officers, they hadn’t even ordered yet. Dahlia’s seen her do it with Hudson and Pratt, knowing the two deputy’s order inherently after years of routine. But it’s the first time she’s done it for Dahlia, knowing the youngest deputy’s favorite burger and soda. It’s nice and she’d love to spend a moment appreciating the coziness of it, but the weight of the bartender’s question hangs in the air. 

“No,” Dahlia assures her, though a part of her feels guilty, as if she’s compromising loyalties, “they helped me and a friend out, that’s all.” 

“Eden’s Gate doesn’t help anyone without expecting something in return, I know you’re new around here, deputy, but you need to be careful around them. They’ll do anything to have another cop wrapped around their finger.” 

“Woah woah,” Dahlia holds her hands up in mock surrender, “it was just a little favor, nothing big I promise.” 

“You don’t get it, that fami-“ 

“I think Merle is trying to flag you down for another beer,” Pratt interjects, saving Dahlia from the rest of the lecture. 

“Yeah, uh, just be careful, deputy.”  With that Mary May leaves them to serve Merle, some man with a mullet, another beer. 

“Sorry about that,” Pratt says, “forgot how weird she gets about the Seeds.” 

“Can’t blame her for it though, John Seed’s had it out for her family since they came here.” 

“I would like to change the subject.” 

“Pfft,” Pratt stifles a laugh at her blunt declaration, “alright, we can do that.” 

“Well, okay, how’d your break go?” 

“Mostly boring, other than when Pratt took me flying.” 

“You took her up in the helicopter?” Hudson asks, raising an eyebrow at the male deputy over Dahlia’s shoulder. 

“Don’t look at me like that.” 

“You seriously pulled that move on her?” 

“Shut up.” 

“Move?” 

“Pratt has a habit of bringing girls up in the helicopter, don’t you?” 

“I plead the fifth.” 

“Oh, uh, I don’t know it was fun, though.” Dahlia shrugs, she doesn’t really care if he brings other people up in the helicopter. She’s not really sure how it’s relevant or what Hudson means by it being a move; she had fun with her friend and he cheered her up. 

“Hear that, Joey, it was fun. Don’t put weird ideas in Rookie’s head. “

“Oh yeah, blame me.” 

“So, anything interesting happen at the station while I was gone?” 

“Well,” Hudson smirks, mischief in her eyes as she glances at Pratt again. 

“She doesn’t need to know about that.” 

“I think she does, the day after you went on leave-”

“I’d like to change the subject,” Pratt cuts Hudson off, mimicking Dahlia from earlier. 

“I don’t even know what the subject is yet!” The youngest deputy objects, laughing. 

“Well, a certain someone’s mom felt the need to come down to the station and let Whitehorse know just how wrong he is to put her precious son in harm’s way.” 

“Oh my god,” Dahlia says, unable to resist smiling, while Pratt’s buried his head in his hands, “your mom came to the station?” 

“Yes, yes, laugh it up.” 

“You call me a child and you have your mommy checking in on you at work?” 

“I didn’t invite her!” 

Pratt’s face is flushed bright red while Hudson and Dahlia laugh at his expense, but despite the embarrassing aspect, Dahlia can’t help but think it’s a little endearing. His mom must really love him. 

“She worry about you a lot?” Dahlia asks, core aching from laughing.

“Ugh, that’s a fuckin’ understatement.” 

 “Mama Pratt’s always been a little too worried about her baby boy,” Hudson taunts, reaching over the table to pinch at Pratt’s cheek, only for him to smack her hands away. 

“I’m sure that went over great when you went into law enforcement.” 

“She still gets furious at Whitehorse for putting us in danger.” 

“Us?” 

“She wasn’t very happy about me becoming a cop either,” Hudson admits and that makes sense, given what Pratt’s told Dahlia about them being close as kids, surely she’d be close to his mother. 

“And if she meets you, she’ll be in Whitehorse’s ear again.” 

“Huh?” 

“I can hear it now, ‘how could you put that little girl in danger, what’s wrong with you?’” Hudson tries her best to mimic Pratt’s mother, grinning at the ridiculousness of it, and despite herself…the idea of his mom doting on her the way she would Hudson. As if Dahlia could be as close to either of them, even if the idea of being seen as a vulnerable little girl is a bit patronizing. 

“Not gonna lie, I really want to meet your mom now.” 

“No.” 

“C’mon!” 

“No, not in a million years, I get enough hell from Joey and Beau, I don’t need it from you too.” 

Their conversation continues late into the evening as it so often does, just a few hours shy of staying until closing, early mornings the only thing that keeps them from staying later. Around the same time as they have every other night, they leave and say their goodbyes. Pratt and Hudson heading back to the small set of apartment housing that resides in the little town, while the youngest deputy rides back to the trailer park. 

She stops at the mailboxes, in the registration building, rows of them with their lot numbers associated with them. The printed letters for Cassie and Joseph heavy in her pocket. A part of her does feel guilty, mostly to Mary May, but it’s not as if they’re close friends and the bartender can’t expect Dahlia to avoid an entire family because of hearsay. And it’s not as if she’s joining up or spending every moment with them.  She shakes her head, stupid feelings, it’s not as if she has to choose sides. She can be thankful for the Seed’s help and still get along with Mary May. She tucks the letters inside her mailbox to be sent out then heads into her trailer, throwing herself down on her couch to sleep for the night. 

Hands on her, groping and prodding on Dahlia’s bare body. She screams and fights against them, unable to see whom they belong to, a mystery hidden by the logic of a dream. They feel different, but she sees no difference, each pair ink black as if monsters reaching from the void to defile her. They claw and grab; scratching over her ribs, locking fingers around her throat, squeezing at her thighs, and pressing over her mouth. The hands are everywhere and they smear black across her skin, smears and filth, reminders of their violation. They stain her skin, mark her flesh, and leave the aftermath of their violence on her body. 

And she fights. She kicks and she pulls, but it only spurs them to grab her more. Dahlia lashes out at the void that touches her, but it does not retreat. She bites at the ink fingers that push into her tongue, but the digits only press deeper in, sliding into her throat. 

She can’t be sure if she breaks away or they let her go, but their touch is gone, Dahlia dropping to her knees as if they were the only thing supporting her. Inky black slick across her skin where they touched her, heavy even on her tongue, finger prints within them. 

And she wretches as flowers bloom from the stains they’d left on her. Small blue flowers blossom forth bursting through the flesh of her tongue, sprouting from her throat and gagging her, soft petals falling from her lips. Those same vibrant blue flowers burst forth from her throat where she was choked. 

Red flowers bloom out from the flesh of her ribs, stacked blossoms along a single stem cutting through the tender skin, like blades. They follow the curve of the bones within her, just long beneath her breast where rough hands had torn at her skin. 

White petals, the most familiar as they recur so often and are a constant sight within the county. They grow through the plush of her thighs, not even blood or black tarnishing them as they push through her skin. They wind and weave as they come through like petal ropes around her . 

And her heart staggers a beat as a sunflower grows within it, then through her chest, a vivid yellow. Her eye burns, a pressure behind it as another great yellow bloom grows behind it, piercing the fragile membrane, blood falling from her socket, vision in the eye obscured from the flower that’s taken it’s place. 

She’s awash of yellows, blues, whites, and reds. Turned into a cruel art piece, body aching as her skin is open, her lungs choked, her heart stuttering to beat, and body protesting in agony. 

And she snaps awake, not jolting from her couch but twisting with a heavy cough, phantom tickles within her throat. She gags on something that doesn’t exist, heartbeat thundering and lungs burning. Dahlia takes a moment to gather herself, a cold sweat still clinging to her skin. Her clock informs her it’s four in the morning. 

She pushes back the hair that’s fallen into her face and lights up a cigarette, inhaling nicotine to ease her shaky body and frayed nerves. These dreams have only been getting more frequent and they’re starting to fuck with her. She can’t live with having a heart attack every other night and barely getting sleep. 

Once she’s filled her lungs with smoke, let the burning cigarette nearly singe her fingers before she tosses it out. Dahlia throws on the lights, blinking through the way it blinds her after so long of darkness, but she ignores the sleep heavy in her eyes as she grabs her drawing pad, sitting at her coffee table on the floor letting her mind lead her hand. 

Sunflowers she knows, the flower iconic enough in identity for her to know it and with the white flowers being so around the county, she could easily be able to figure out what they are. She thinks they’re called moonflowers, given the name of the trailer park and that a field of them surround them. But she sketches them out, along with the other flowers she saw. Four types of flowers on the page. She needs to get them on paper while they’re fresh in her mind. And then in the crux of them all, she draws out the layered ones from her previous dreams. 

She plans on looking them up, flowers have significance and meaning, she’s heard that before that people can plan bouquets to communicate messages. She’s never cared about flowers in her entire life, so she has no idea why on earth they’d such a recurring theme in her dreams be. 

Dahlia feels more relaxed now that she’s smoked and gotten the images of the flowers on paper. She’ll search for her answers later, after she’s gotten more sleep. Nerves and body relaxed, she curls back up on her couch, letting herself fall into a dreamless sleep. 

It’s a few hours past noon the next day, a slow day of just tickets, the young deputy’s head is against her own seatbelt. Her eyes are starting to close despite the amount of energy drinks she’s consumed. She managed to salvage a few hours of restful sleep, but not nearly enough to keep her awake through an already boring day.  Her eyelids are impossibly heavy, each blink growing longer and longer. 

“Rook!” 

“I’m awake!” Dahlia says with a jolt, Pratt’s voice and a shake of her shoulder waking her back up. 

“Are you?” Pratt asks while laughing and she pinches at the bridge of her nose, a headache coming on. 

“I didn’t sleep well last night.” 

“What were doing?” 

“Wasn’t doing nothing; just bad dream,” she tells him, shrugging. 

“Units near the Orchard please respond,” Nancy from dispatch’s voice crackles over their radio, they’re still in the Valley and maybe five minutes from the giant orchard.

“Deputy Pratt responding.”

“Debbie and Doug called in a robbery, suspect has fled the scene, but they’re still requesting an officer to file a report.” 

“We’ll be there shortly,” he hangs up the receiver, “wake up, Rookie, we have to actually work today.” 

“Maybe.” 

“Maybe,” he admits, acknowledging that it’ll likely just be an hour of talking, writing down a report, and then leaving. 

They drive past the pumpkin farm, Dahlia unable to resist smiling when she sees Boomer playing with his owners, weaving through the gourds. She’s reminded of her first day, stopping to pet the dog to dispel her own nerves. Then the apple trees filter in, bright red and shining in the light. Each tree is overflowing, a few crates out fill with the fruit, apples that have fallen on the ground. 

Pratt pulls up to the orchard’s packing facility past the market stall that advertises cider tasting. There’s a man and woman standing in front of the large open packing facility; the building painted red with green roofing, the open doors showing the crates and machines. The smell of crisp apples hits Dahlia as she gets out of the cruiser, mixing with the fresh air, she feels more awake than she was before. Rarely, but sometimes, the beauty of the county manages to lift her spirits. 

“What’s going on?” Pratt asks the couple. 

“Someone,” Debbie gives a pointed look at her husband Doug, arms crossed, “left the office key in the stall again, next thing we know, someone cleared out our safe.” 

“Hey, don’t blame me.” 

“Well who the fuck am I suppose to blame?” 

“That fuckin’ church would be a goddamn start.” 

The tension is palpable as the couple argues, body language tight and wrought with frustration. Stray can’t tell if Debbie is about to cry or scream, maybe both. Doug looks as if he’d like to rip the earth up and bury himself beneath it. 

“Everybody calm down, did anyone see anything suspicious?” 

“John fuckin’ Seed and his band of goons were here earlier, no one saw him grab the key, but no one else would have. Son of a bitch has it out for us.” 

“Alright, you wanna take me back to the office, I’ll have a look around,” Pratt asks Doug. 

“Yeah, no problem.” 

“You mind staying out here and talking to me, Debbie?” Dahlia offers, she’s not the most comforting person in the world, but the older woman clearly needs to get some stuff off her chest. 

“Yeah, I can do that.” 

Doug and Pratt go back to the office within the packing facility, leaving Dahlia alone with Debbie. 

“Lets find a place to sit down and just breathe for a minute, alright?” 

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Debbie agree and Dahlia places what she hopes to be a comforting hand on the woman’s back, guiding her into the market stall where she saw benches. 

She settles in across from Debbie, who wrings her hands together. 

“No pressure and you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, but if you need an ear, I’m willing to listen.” 

“Don’t even know where to start, ever since John Seed set his sights on the orchard, it’s been a nightmare.” 

“He been making life hard for you?” 

“That’s the understatement of the god damn century, that church has been buying up properties since they got here. The railyard, the old summer camp, the veterans center, the conservatory; list goes on…I use to wonder why everyone sold out to them, but I fuckin’ get it now.” 

“They’re persistent?” 

“They’re fucking heartless. Me and Doug built this place from the ground up; John Seed made an offer and we said no. Next thing we know; roads are blocked so our shipments can’t go out, they buy up the fertilizer plant and we can’t use it to help the new crops, cargo trucks are toting away product in the dead of night, and now this shit. We’ve been hemorrhaging cash ever since he set his sights on us. Got an attorney involved and all they did was charge us.”

“I’m so fucking sorry, I can’t even imagine how hard this is for you.” 

“We had a good year for crops, thought we’d break even if nothing else, then what little we got was taken. I can’t even pay my god damn workers, we’ve had to let go of folks who’ve been here for years because they couldn’t keep working for free cider.” 

The woman lets out a breath, body deflating as she finally gets everything off her chest, but her blue eyes are brimming with tears. Dahlia offers her a tissue from her pocket, not sure what else she can do, watching the woman dab at her eyes. Despite the help Joseph and his church has given to Dahlia and Cassie, this sort of behavior can’t be enabled. Theodore was stealing booze from The Spread Eagle, on the order of John Seed, when she first came here. Lonny hasn’t exactly been shy about insinuating he should just be allowed to take her motorcycle. So, it’s not far fetched to imagine them getting greedy. As ironic as it is to attach a sin to church goers. 

“They can’t do that shit.” 

“But they do, no evidence though, nothing can be done. If the cops even bother to show up, no offense, but a lot of your station ain’t doing their fucking jobs.” 

“No offense taken, I’m not gonna sit here and tell you every cops here for the right reasons. But, uh, if there’s something I can do to help, I want to.” 

“Short of a miracle, I don’t think there’s much we can do. Take John’s next offer, try to fuckin’ survive.” 

“There has to be a way for you guys to keep the orchard,” Dahlia murmurs more to herself than Debbie, at the end of it all the young deputy doesn’t have a dog in the fight. But, her heart does break for the couple and she wants to find some way to help. 

“I’m willing to try anything at this point.” 

“Ever think of doing any kind of apple festival or something? I mean people do that, sounds nicer than one for testicles.” 

“Pssh,” she laughs a little at the way Dahlia wrinkles her nose, “it’d take a lot of work to get something like that set up.” 

“I mean, do you really think the rest of the county won’t come together to help, you can do stands, have food, games, charge some money. I mean, it’s an idea.”

“We got stands for the market, don’t know if I can cook for a whole county though, if they even show.” 

“Do you think Casey or Chad would help out?” Dahlia brings up the cooks from the Spread Eagle and Grill Steak. Small communities are suppose to come together in times of crisis, that’s the hope at least. Lloyd always told her that’s what he loved about Hope County and Reinette, everyone’s willing to pitch in. 

“Maybe… Casey knows the runners of the Testy Festy too, he could help up get vendors and games set up, I…ya think we can actually do this?” 

“Way I see it, best case scenario, it gets you through the rough spot, sticks it to John Seed, and you could do it every year for an income boost. Worst case scenario, you go down swinging, having some fun,  and with friends by your side,” Dahlia tells her honestly with a shrug, she doesn’t want to give false hope, but even in worst case scenario, it’s worth it to go down swinging. 

“That’s,” she smiles, tears clearing, she looks hopeful finally, “that’s hard to argue with, you gonna help?”

“Of course, I can see about talking to Casey tonight even.” 

“Deb?” Doug’s voice calls out and the women leave the market stall, Doug and Pratt have come back from the office Pratt raises an eyebrow, eye drifting from the now happy Debbie, to Dahlia. Silently asking her what the hell happened. 

“There wasn’t anything that can pin it on anyone, no security footage or prints, sorry,” Pratt tells her. 

“I figured… Doug, me and Deputy….” she searches for Dahlia’s name only to realize she doesn’t know it, “…her have been talking, what do you think about throwing together a festival?” 

“A festival?” 

“Yeah, we could get the county together, might just be what saves this place. I…just…I don’t wanna give up yet. She said she’d help, I think, I think we can do this.” 

“We’d need to move fast and a festival take a lot of time to set up.” 

“I mean, we get enough people on board, I can’t see why we can have it ready to go by, next Friday, the 10th?” Dahlia cuts in to help, that’d give them a little over a week, short notice but not impossible. 

“You planning on helping?” 

“Of course,”Dahlia beams, but no reason she can’t volunteer some more help, she throws an arm over Pratt’s shoulder, “we’d both be happy to help anyway we can.” 

“What?” Pratt asks blankly and she just gives him a friendly smack on the chest, if he can force her into a church barbecue, she can damn well rope him into helping a local business. 

“Well then, I think next Friday could work,” Doug admits. 

“We could hold it Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. An entire weekend for everyone to come together, have some fun and maybe save this place,” Debbie tells him, smiling wide.

“Okay, lets do it.” 

“Hell yeah.” Dahlia grins, the formerly frustrated and desperate couple are now smiling bright as can be. Warmth is burning in the rookie deputy’s chest, proud that she can help them get those smiles back. 

“Yeah…well, guess I can help,” Pratt admits, still glaring at Dahlia in his peripheral, she’s just amazed he hasn’t pushed her off of him yet. 

“I’ll try to talk to Casey tonight, if the bars too busy, I’ll try tomorrow. Then I’ll get in touch with Chad, ask around about music, games, anything we could need.”

“Gotta find a way to advertise it.” 

“I’ll figure it out,” Dahlia tells them, confident she can put it together, “you guys worry about getting the orchard set up, getting food, cider, prices, and all that figured out. And if you need anything just call down to the station and ask for Rook.” 

“Thank you, seriously, both of you.” 

“No problem,” Pratt says, though there’s a sigh in his voice, “our probie here just loves to help people.” 

“Well, it is my job, speaking of which, you said the church is blocking the roads?” 

“Yeah, our trucks can’t even get a shipment out.” 

“Do you know where they’re set up?” 

“Yeah, the road that leads from Holland valley out to Missoula, if you follow it far enough, why?” 

“Public roads legally can’t be blocked,” Pratt explains for her. 

“So, we’re gonna pay them a quick visit.” 

“Thanks again, we’ll be in touch, Deputy.” 

They wave off the couple, saying their goodbyes as they climb back into the cruiser. A beat of silence passes without Pratt starting the engine. 

“What the fuck, Rook?” 

“What?” 

“You know your getting yourself into deep shit, right? Pissing off the church right after they helped you out?” 

“Them helping me out ain’t a free pass to do whatever they want. I can get along with someone and still hold them accountable for their bullshit. They have no right trying to railroad Debbie and Doug like that.” 

“And you have no right dragging me into it.” 

“You volunteered me for the fuckin’ church barbecue.” 

“That’s different.” 

“How?” 

“We were off the clock, not work hours.” 

“What about trying to pressure me into going to the Rye barbecue, while at Redlers, technically on the clock.” 

“That was also different.” 

“How?” 

“’Cause you’re the rookie and I’m allowed to be mean to you.” 

“No, that is not how that works!” 

“Is too, the entire point of hiring rookie cops is to hassle them, you don’t get to hassle back.” 

“Well, too bad, fucker we’re throwing an apple festival.” 

“Jesus christ.” 

“It’ll be fun.” 

“It’ll be a pain in my ass,” he says, grumbling as he starts the engine, taking off out of the orchard. 

Dahlia sticks her tongue out at him as they wind through the roads. Apple trees become the usual firs and pines, road signs starting to indicate they’re in route to Missoula. The young deputy watches the woods pass by, where the trees meet the blue sky, farmland occasionally breaking the landscape with cows meandering around. 

It’s not long before they come to a stop and sure enough, large slabs of concrete are across the roadway. White trucks bearing the Eden’s Gate symbol are slotted behind them, black flags with the symbol in white stream from the back, and sturdier white vans are nearby as well. Members of the church are gathered there, woman with overgrown hair and men with hairy faces, a few she recognizes. All looking at the stopped cruiser with some measure of anger or worry. 

“Hey, deputy,” it’s Waylon who greets Dahlia, smiling at her, “what seems to be the issue?” 

“Your blocking public roads,” Pratt is the one to answer. 

“Oh, see the thing if, the church is having some property worked on nearby. So, we really can’t have anyone driving through here, it’s temporary of course.” 

“You can’t do that, though,” Dahlia explains, “if you need to fence off private property, you need to do it along the property line. Unless you have permission from the state, you cannot block public road access.” 

“Deputy please, surely you understand.” 

“Waylon,” she puts a hand on his shoulder, “you know we get along and I don’t have anything against the church, but blocking the road affects everyone else. If you really need roads blocked off, you need to contact the right people and get permits first, okay?” 

“Understood.” 

“Okay, then, just clear out and everything will be fine.” 

He doesn’t seem happy, none of the church members do, but that’s the rules. She can’t even understand why’d they ever need to block the roads, if she didn’t know any better she’d think they were trying to keep people from leaving. 

They drive the trucks and vans away; Dahlia and Pratt even helping move the concrete blockades off the road. Why do they even have those? 

There’s still a sour note in the air once the block is cleared and the deputies have pulled away. She hates this weird back and forth; the church helping her but then doing something that gives her reason to doubt them. Wanting to be their friend but needing to put her foot down; wanting them and both the people who hate them to like her. Torn between the two as well as her child; like an unfortunate child in the midst of their parent’s divorce and she’s being forced to choose one. 

It’s getting close to evening, when they pull up to the station to put in the report. The usual folks are in the bullpen, Hudson working at her computer with a mug of coffee and Brennan at his desk as well. The faces she’s come to know the best outside of Pratt. He plops himself down into his chair at his desk and Dahlia decides to grab another energy drink from the kitchen first.

She’s managed to rummage through the collection of tana cola bottle to find it, cracking it open with a yawn as she leaves the kitchen. 

“…it wouldn’t have been so bad if Rook didn’t volunteer me for some bullshit.” 

“Don’t be so fucking dramatic.” 

“Jesus fuck,” Pratt jolts in his chair, nearly toppling it over, “that’s it, we’re getting you a god damn bell!” 

“Didn’t know you were into that, Staci,” Brennan says with a snicker. 

“Shut up.” 

“Oh, please, no one’s buying it,” Hudson says, rolling her eyes. 

“There’s nothing to buy, Rook is an annoying shit, who just grabbed me and volunteered me for bullshit.” 

“You’re such a baby.” 

Dahlia reaches out and flicks his ear, laughing when Pratt grabs her hand, fingers intertwining as he tries to push her back. She brings her other hand up, trying to reach out and flick him with her other hand.  But he grabs it in the same way, the two pushing against each other, both grinning like children. She’s not even sure what the goal is and Pratt probably doesn’t either. But then his office chair wheels slide back from the force and she’s found a goal, pushing Pratt across the room. No particular reason for it other than the idea of watching him sail across the bullpen makes her giggle.  But he won’t let go of her hands enough that she can push him without him dragging her too. 

“The hell are you two doing?” Whitehorse’s voice booms out when he walks in to see the two deputies horsing around. 

“Being idiots.” 

“I don’t know, looks like flirting to me.” 

Hudson’s insult and Brennan’s teasing makes red flush up the two bickering deputy’s cheeks. They’re technically holding hands and leaning into each other’s personal space, Dahlia realizes. Pratt suddenly drops her hands, jolting away as if her skin has burnt his, and pushing his chair away from her. Nearly toppling over a trashcan in his haste. 

“Yeah why the hell you holding my hand, Rookie?”

“You grabbed my hand first, asshole!” 

“No, I didn’t.” 

“Yes, you did.” 

“You did.” 

“You absolutely did.” 

Hudson and Brennan agree with Dahlia, Pratt’s face going from pink to scarlet. Whitehorse rolls his eyes, no doubt questioning his hiring decisions. How any of them still have jobs is a mystery, except Hudson. 

“How’d things go at the orchard?” The sheriff asks, adjusting his cowboy hat. He really does look like such a stereotype. 

“We couldn’t find any evidence of who broke into the office, they grabbed the key, so I told Doug he should look into changing the locks and investing in some security cameras. They’re dead set on it being John or someone with the church though,” Pratt explains, rolling his chair back up to his desk. 

“You know it was,” Brennan scoff, “damn church is destroying the whole county.” 

“Now, now, you can’t go making accusations without evidence, I just hope Debbie and Doug can bounce back.” 

Dahlia doesn’t miss the roll of Brennan’s eyes and the sneer on his lips, he doesn’t like Eden’s Gate or Whitehorse’s attitude towards them it seems. She’s rarely seen the officer without a smile, but lips curled and leg bouncing, he seems a moment away from flipping the desk in front of him. 

“Well, if Rook’s plan works, they’ll do fine.” 

“Your plan?” Whitehorse looks at her with a raised eyebrow; her fellow deputies and Brennan all look at her expectantly as well. She scratches at the back of her neck, skin prickling at the attention. 

“Oh, uh…well, I figured they could do like an apple festival, be fun for the county and help raise some money for ‘em.” 

“That the plan you were bitching about, Pratt?” Brennan raises an eyebrow at him. 

“It’s a pain in the ass and the Seed family is gonna be pissed.” 

“So, apple pie and pissing off the Seeds, I’m fuckin’ sold,” Brennan sticks his fist out to Dahlia and she bumps her knuckles to his, grinning, “anything I can help with, just say the word.” 

“Seriously, see why can’t you be my partner?” 

“Hey, rude.” 

“’Cause we’d never get Pratt to stop whining about it.” 

“What the hell, you’re suppose to be on my side, Beau.” 

“I don’t remember agreeing to that.” 

“I’m willing to help out too if I can,” Hudson cuts in between the banter, eyes soft, “I still remember going apple picking there with my family, I don’t wanna see Doug and Debbie lose that place.” 

“Yeah…that place has a lot of memories for everyone,” Pratt admits, hazel eyes deepening with nostalgia. 

“Still remember the first year you came with us,” Hudson grins, “Mark tried to lift you up to grab an apple and you just started sobbing.” 

“Your brother was trying to kill me and I stand by that,” Pratt smiles as he pretends to defend himself. 

“When are Deb and Doug planning on having the festival?” Whitehorse asks Dahlia. 

“Aiming for the next Friday, the 10th, they wanna see if they can do it the whole weekend too.” 

“Lot of work to get done if that’s gonna happen.” 

“I know, I’m planning on talking to Casey as soon as I can. See if he’ll help cook and if there’s any testy festy supplies or vendors he can help with.” 

“Mary May has a live band that plays once a week, they might be willing to play,” Hudson offers. 

“Think they’d work cheap or free? I’d hate to stiff anyone and I’ll pay whatever I have too out of my own pocket, but the last thing we want is the festival costing more than it makes,” Dahlia explains, leaning against the wall as she talks it out. 

“If they’re not willing to work any or all of it, we could always talk to Wheaty too.” 

“Wheaty?” 

“Kid who lives up North,” Brennan points in the general North direction, “he’s been obsessed with starting a radio station for years, he’ll basically DJ anything for free just to show off his vinyl collection.” 

“That could work too.” 

“Addie would probably help with money for it, honestly, just throw some advertisements up for the Marina.” 

“Hell, if me and Staci ask her, she’d probably do it anyway,” Brennan gives a wide toothy smile. 

“Gross, but true.” 

“Didn’t Grace use to do those shooting competitions at fairs and shit, letting people pay to try and outshoot her?” 

“Yeah,” Hudson nods to Pratt’s suggestion, “she hates the attention, but if it’s for a good cause I’m sure she’d do it.” 

“I don’t think the Fowler brothers would bring Cheeseburger, since they gotta watch what he eats, but they might be willing to bring down some animals for people to see.” 

“Hell, if we could convince Rae Rae to bring Boomer; people will show up just get a picture of him.” 

“Pie eating contest would draw people in too.” 

“Lorna would probably make pasties for it if we asked.” 

Dahlia can’t help but grin at all the ideas and suggestions; a fire seemingly ignited in everyone. There’s a warmth in her chest and a swelling sense of pride that she could get everyone on board. The orchard means a lot to the county, not just Debbie and Doug. And she may actually be able to save it. 

“Woah woah, hold on now,” Whitehorse calls out and Dahlia stiffens, this technically isn’t police work, “is anyone writing all this down? Not gonna do anyone a lick of good if we forget something.” 

He smiles, blue eyes soft as Hudson grabs a piece of paper, writing down the ideas that’ve been said so far. Whitehorse is giving his stamp of approval and that pride in her chest only swells bigger, thumping against her ribs and making her smile widen. 

“Rook.” 

“Yes, sheriff?” 

“As long as you keep an ear to your radio, don’t see any reason you can’t work on some of this during work, alright?” 

“Yeah, absolutely.” 

“Good, Debbie and Doug deserve the best and we’re damn well gonna give it to ‘em, that’s an order.” 

The sheriff ruffles her hair before he leaves and her face hurts from smiling so much. She pulls up a chair to the desk, sitting with Hudson, Pratt, and Brennan as they keep working on ideas. All four stay past their shift hours; scribbling down all possible ideas, who they should reach out to and who should be the one to talk to them. Dahlia smiling the entire time as they talk late into the evening. 

[midas-or-khaos]

The Ones Above Us. Prologue.

Device:-Sony Handycam DCR SR85

Input:-Film

Location:-Ireland Peat Bogs

Date:-September 2008

Time:-6:35.

Title:- YouTube vlog 68, metal detector finds.

Hi, everyone, it’s Neil again. Today on this lovely misty autumn morning we’re back on the peat bogs of Ireland for another early treasure hunting session. I’m here today with Mark- Mark say hi to the camera!

Hello everyone.

Mark’s here with me again afterrrrrr, err, god how long has it been?

Three or four months, give or take.

Three of four MONTHS. Bloooody hell. Well, it’s good to see you again. I hope you lot watching at home appreciate this too! God. Anyway, let’s get on with today’s episode. As you already know, these bogs are well known for harbouring very early bits of Celtic jewlery, coins, knives etcetera back from the Iron Age, so hopefully the peat will be kind to us, though probably not with these conditions, and our combined shit luck. Ground’s gonna be solid. Never mind. Mark, you ready to start?

Yep.

Great, let’s get started!

How far the land goes on when undisturbed by human intervention, it almost makes the world seem endless from human perspective. Of course, these factors wouldn’t dampen the hopes of these history hunters, these foolhardy men. No, they knew what they desired lay within this earth they stood upon; this largely untapped treasure trove of history. And with miles of potential at their fingertips, where to begin?

You start east, I’ll go west. Nice and easy, take your time.

Heading west, Mark with crows feet beginning to form at his eyes and a steadying decline in an ability to accept change, lacked the years of experience his jovial east-bound counterpart possessed, but with at least seven previous sessions under his belt, easy to use equipment and an expert within earshot, nothing could go wrong, right? Just scan and dig, how hard could that be?

Right, Mark’s gone east and while he’s off I’ll start with the introduction to the land we’re on because you never know when someone new is going to see our channel.

Harder than either could have anticipated.

Peat bogs form when plants don’t fully decay in acidic and anaerobic conditions. Anaerobic being a fancy word meaning without oxygen. Peat is made up of mainly wetland vegetation, like mosses, sedges, and shrubs. As it accumulates, the peat holds water which slowly creates wetter conditions that allow the area of wetland to expand. Despite now present conditions, these areas used to be land occupied by early human tribes and thus explains why you can find old jewellery, trinkets, even bodies sometimes, in these bogs despite them being uninhabitable now. And yes, you did hear me right, bodies. Well preserved bodies actually. Unlikely to find any of those though, seeing as we have metal detector and not a sniffer dog, Heh. Plus they’re usually found about a meter deep in the ground, and they blend so well that you probably wouldn’t recognise it as a body if you were just scanning the ground. Ah well, let’s keep going.

Peat preserves bodies near perfectly, save for the flesh becoming black and having the texture of tanned old leather, plus the hair going bloody red: dyed from the acid. The mummy of Old croghan Man (who was discovered in these very bogs) was so perfectly preserved, that the first archaeologists whom discovered the corpse, disclosed after they finished that they felt queasy examining the remains, as the torso was still retaining the vivid wounds of severed flesh and a cut spinal cord frayed with ends of a thousand year old nervous system where the man had been decapitated and disemboweled violently after death. Bones are one thing, you can’t quite empathise with something lacking a familiar face and form. Seeing something so akin to a recent murder is quite another.

NEIL!

Yeah!

NEIL! COME QUICK!

EYYYYY, looks like our amateur may yet be a masterrrrrrrrr! WHAT YOU FOUND?!

I DUNNO, BUT IT LOOKS WEIRD!

Mark hadn’t gotten far at all, barely a few yards; today was a lucky day indeed for the pair. Jogging over, letting his own excitement bleed through, Neil was by Mark’s side in a moments' notice with a full blown grin, gums peaking through. What could it be?! Pointing to a nearly glowing spot in the earth that seemed to reflect the moody sky with its blinding bright whiteness, the two kneeled down together to look further.

Neil, where’s the spade?

Here! You dig first, it’s your find.

Being handed the spade, Mark began stabbing the rock solid earth, frozen through as all that trapped water became solid ice.

COME ON!

They should’ve bothered more with chipping away at diamond, might’ve made more progress then the two were now. These tools were inefficient. This piece of history didn’t want to come out.

We got anything else, Neil?

I’ve got a chisel?

Let’s have a go.

It was time for harsher methods. Neil marked the spot with the chisel tipped in a minor dip in the earth. Mark became the hammer. STAMP! Nothing. STAMP! Still nothing. SSSSSSSTTTTTTAAAAAMMMMMMPPPPP- CRACK! A fault burst open like a spider’s web. Small, but there.

YES! Keep stamping!

There was no stopping now. So close now! Uncovering buried treasure like the archeologists of Egypt finding their next greatest discovery. Would it be silver? Gold? A rarity beyond material that could shake the very foundations of history as we know it?!

SPLIT! At long last, the earth shattered beneath the determination of man. The unnoticeable became revealed. Flesh. Bone white flesh so large, the pattern that made up the texture of skin could be seen clear as day. They’d found a corpse

...Mark, call the police.

[bangcrizpychan]

Tainted Daisies | ii.It Stalks

Chapters: | prologue | i | ii | iii | iv | v | vi | vii | viii | ix | x | xi | epilogue |

Genre:  psychological thriller, angst, mystery, crime, rich kid!stray kids au, college!au, slow burn

Word count: 2.9k

Ratings: 16+

⚠WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol

Tainted Daisies Masterlist

Tag list: @nightshade-minho @mikoto-ica-fics  @momochiiiiiiii @nowimyourdaisies @ravenlilshots @channiesmixtape @skzmnho​ @yutacchin​ @minnieflowers​ @xxbluestrifexx​ @mxxndreams​ @hshhj0620​ @kpopwritist​ (If you want to be added to or removed from the tag list, please let me know.)

The Friday sun rose and filled the sky with shades of pink and orange, its bright light illuminating your small yet somewhat spacious bedroom. The singing of birds filled your ears as you awake from your slumber. Stretching your arms high and releasing a huge yawn, you scrambled out of your messy bed and headed towards the bathroom. 

You could see bags under your eyes and a line of dried drool on the corners of your mouth. you turned on the tap and splashed the water your face, the cold liquid waking up your nerves, making you alert to your surroundings.

After finishing up and wearing a pair of new clothes, you headed out of your room . You see the old man was still knocked out on the couch and released a sigh, he shouldn't have drank those many bottles if he couldn't handle it. You made a mental note to clean those up later, it had been four days since school started and you would've cleaned those by now if it wasn't too much of a hassle. Something bubbled inside you, it wasn't because you hated him, but he was a grown man and is fully capable of taking care of himself.

Your favorite music blasted through your headphones as you walked towards your school since your apartment was not too far from it. The streets were busier than usual, it was probably because everyone was getting ready for a Friday night or welcoming the weekend. You felt a chill run down your spine and you quickly whipped your head back, you see pedestrians shuffling around but none of them seemed suspicious until you saw a hooded figure across the street from you, your feet subconsciously hurried towards the university with the figure lingering in your mind.

"Y/n!" A voice startled you and made you snap back to reality.

You looked at the source and released a sigh of relief when you saw Seungmin.

"You startled me, you idiot!" You said, hitting his arm and letting out a chuckle.

"Well I've been calling out your name but you seemed a little occupied," he said, while scratching the back of his head.

You let out a small "oh," and muttered an apology as a rosy tint painted your cheeks. You looked around your surroundings and noticed that you were already at the university.

"I was probably so absorbed that my mind went autopilot," you thought. Seungmin slung his arm around your shoulders and the both of you went inside the school.

He was separated from you when you headed towards your respected classrooms. You entered the room and saw that there were only a few students, you went to your seat and pulled out your notebook. You were engaged on your doodling that you didn't notice Felix sitting next to you.

"Hey Y/n," he said, causing you to look up from your notebook and gave him a small smile.

You became acquainted with him after he bought you a drink from a soda machine on a Tuesday morning. The money that you brought with you was not enough at the time and him helping you changed your views toward him.

"Nice," Felix suddenly murmured and you gave him a puzzled look.

"It's the second time I've seen you smile at me, it looks nice on your face," he continued.

"Thank you, Felix," you said and went back to doodling.

"Stop what you are doing and let me be your center of attention because I do not like repeating myself," A woman's voice boomed which caused you and the other students to shift your attention towards a tall woman with a stoic expression at the door.

The sound of her heels echoed throughout the room as she walked towards the desk. The woman was wearing a red pencil skirt that reached below her knee paired with a white ruffle blouse. She had a pair of spectacles resting on the bridge of her nose and a thin lips completed her look. Silence engulfed the room as her aura sparked fear and confusion among you.

"Silence. Good." She said, as she rested  a hand on her hip.

"Professor Park is on leave so I will be her substitute for today, I am Professor Choi," she said, while scanning the room as if she was waiting for someone to make a mistake.

"take out your textbooks and open it to page 382," she added.

You and the rest of the class immediately took out your books and opened it to the said page.

"Caught Red-Handed: The Art of Analysis" it read, confusion was evident on your face as this lesson was not tackled yet.

"Yes Mr. Lee?" You looked at Felix and saw him slowly lowering his hand.

"Professor, we had not discussed this yet, we're still at the-"

"-Introduction," she interrupted and pushed her spectacles a little higher.

"I see Professor Park still likes to take her time, well I'm not her, therefore we will start at where I want to begin." she continued, you noticed Felix and the rest of your classmates fidgeting in their seats, completely uncomfortable.

"Some of your professors are more concerned about the theories and all that, but me, I prefer you learn through hands on." Professor Choi said while turning on the television and flashed a picture of two letters.

"Now tell me, what do you see?" she asked and looked around the room.

You noticed most of your classmates avoided her gaze, which earned a sigh of disappointment coming out her mouth.

"Mr. Lee, what do you see?" Felix tensed up as he slowly rose from his seat. You notice his eyes darting between Professor Choi and the television.

"I-I see letters," he stuttered, earning a laugh from the class.

"Thank you for that wonderful insight, I wouldn't have known," Professor Choi retorted, rolling her eyes in the process.

You gave his hand a squeeze after he turned red from embarrassment. Professor Choi grabbed a pile of paper from her desk and distributed them by rows. When you received yours, it showed the pictures the same as the one in the television.

You noticed that the longer you stared at it, the more you see its features; the name of the sender, a stamp, smudged ink, and a horrible handwriting.

"Now, what do you see?" Professor Choi asked, you slowly raised your hand and she nodded at your direction. You stood up and looked at the paper.

"Um.. Based on the smudged ink, the letter could have been spilled by something liquid, there's some sort of stain at the top, and..." you stopped talking and stared at the two letters.

"and?" Professor Choi asked, while you continued to look at the picture.

"These are two different letters," you finally said after a minute of silence.

You looked at Professor Choi and saw the corner of her mouth twitch into a smile.

"the first one is different from the other letter, the handwriting looks the same but now that I look at it, the letter "q" is not written identically at all. It's putting an impression that the same person wrote this but it's two different people." You said, feeling quite amazed how you could spot it.

"Very good, you may sit down," Professor said and you obliged, she held up a transparent seal bag with the two letters inside it.

"This is where the fun begins, if you just glance at it, the letters look like any normal letters, but that's the art of analysis. Every little thing matters," she said, and instructed the first row to pass the bag around.

"As someone who studies forensics, a glimpse is not enough to make a deduction, you need to go deeper into the details and look where some people won't even glance at. Here," she continued, getting a laser pointer and pointed at the stain on the top right corner of the letter.

"Did anyone see this? This is saliva that was used to seal the envelope," she said as the bag finally reached you. You took a better look at it and you saw details that you didn't see on its printed form.

"This letter once belonged to a man named Charles Smith, he was a foreigner who committed suicide at his hotel, but it turned out to be a murder case. You see, the murderer did an amazing job, the note was identical to Mr. Smith's handwriting, it was almost perfect." Professor Choi said as you passed the bag to Felix.

"I never noticed these things, you did a great job earlier," Felix said, passing the note to the next row and you gave him a small smile.

"Oh shush, I'm sure you'll do better than me," you said, hitting his arm playfully.

"-but the murderer made a huge mistake, he used his own saliva to close the envelope, which gave the forensics team the upper hand, his DNA was recovered through it and he was captured in no time." Professor Choi finished and flashed the picture of the killer.

His deranged look caused your breath hitch in your throat, you remembered the hooded figure from earlier. Everything around went still and you couldn't hear anything but the sound of your ragged breath, million thoughts ran through your head about the identity of that hooded figure.

"-so yeah, I was wondering if you'd come," you shook your head and looked at Felix. He was smiling at you, you scanned the room and noticed that the two of you were the only ones left.

Felix noticed your look of confusion and chuckled at you.

"Class ended a while ago, are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, I-I'm fine. What did you say?" you said, stuffing your things inside your bag.

"I'm having a party later at my place, I want you to come." he said, standing up with you and headed towards the door.

"Sure, I'd love to come, it would be fun," you said, turning your back from him but he held your arm.

"You can bring your friends too, they know where I live," he said and you nodded. He let go of your arm and you headed towards the cafeteria where you mostly meet with Seungmin and Jeongin.

The cafeteria was crowded but you managed to spot your friends and happily joined them on the table. You took out a sandwich and ate while they shared a bowl of kimchi.

"Hey look at this," Jeongin suddenly said and you looked at his phone.

"-a student whose identity we hid claimed to have seen the perpetrator the night Ms. Kim Yunhae went missing. This opened a possibility that there is a kidnapper roaming around our lovely city." The reporter said.

"Ishmanakaway," Seungmin said with mouth full of kimchi.

"What?" you said, Seungmin gulped and drank from his bottle water, his pale hand wiping the red sauce off the corners of his mouth.

"It's Tanaka Rei, my classmate from Japan," Seungmin said, stuffing his mouth again with a spoonful of kimchi.

"How do you know?" You asked.

"I came with her when she reported it to the police," Seungmin said, grabbing my half eaten sandwich and taking a bite off it.

"Do you think she's telling the truth?" you pressed, curious about this person.

"Why don't we ask her? She always goes to the extension building in her free time," Seungmin suggested but you shook your head.

"It's okay," you said, finishing your sandwich.

The three of you headed out the cafeteria and walked silently side by side.

"Hey, do you guys want to go to Felix's party tonight?" you asked, breaking the silence.

"We're not invited," Jeongin muttered.

"Oh, Felix said I can come with my friends, and you guys are my friends. Would you like to come with me?" you said, standing in front of them to stop them.

"That's very nice of you, Y/n but-"

"Oh come on Jeongin, you guys are my only close friends and it'll be awkward if I came alone." You said and gave them your best puppy dog eyes.

They looked at each other and sighed.

"Fine, we'll go. For you." Seungmin said and you wrapped your arms around them, laughing and saying 'thank you' over and over.

Time flew by and the next thing you knew, the three of you were already at Felix's house, but 'house' would be an understatement. Your jaw dropped at the sight of his mansion though the gate, it was only a two-storey house but it was wide, expensive cars were parked outside as you walked towards the front door.

Light strobes and loud music emitted the place and you rang the door bell but it took time for the door to open. It swung open and it revealed Hyunjin with a hand holding a bottle of wine and cheeks pink from his drunkenness.

"Oh hey new girl! Come in!" he slurred, even at his state, you couldn't deny that he still looked handsome.

The three of you entered and the place was packed. People snogging left and right, the dancing, the crowd almost made you feel dizzy. You noticed that Seungmin and Jeongin were a little uncomfortable but also a little intrigued to join the others.

"You guys should dance and hang out with them, I'm gonna look for Felix," you said and the three of you split up.

The reek of alcohol made you sick and you avoided touching people's sweaty bodies. You absentmindedly entered a room but felt relief wash over you because you managed to escape the hoard.

"You shouldn't be in here," a voice spoke behind you and you slowly turned your head. There stood Bang Chan, the man you felt drawn to.

Your face glowed red when you saw his unblinking gaze, his orbs that was filled with void and mystery, yet it was almost inviting. You turned to your left and noticed that you were inside the office of Felix's father. Their family portrait hung on top of the shelves with smiling faces.

"Neither should you," you said, finally gathering the courage to look at him.

"I don't like crowds that much, I went in here to breathe a little," he said, putting his hands in his pockets and walking around the room.

"My name is-"

"Y/n, I know,"

"Oh, Felix must've told you,"

"Once."

And there it was, total silence. You puffed your cheeks, feeling quite jittery.

"I should probably go-"

"Do you like champagne-"

You both spoke at the same time making you laugh, Chan released a chuckle and it made your heart skip a beat. It was beautiful.

"It's okay if you want to go," he said, you giggled and shook your head.

"I'd like to try a glass of champagne," you said and you noticed a quick flicker of spark in his eyes.

He slipped outside for a bit and was back in a second with two glasses and a bottle of French sparkling wine. He poured you a glass before pouring himself one.

"Cheers?" he raised his glass and you obliged, the sound of glass clinking echoed the room.

The conversation that exchanged between the both of you made you learn things about him, not a lot, but enough to know he was a good person even though his cold and dark eyes still makes your stomach do a flip. You felt a buzz in your pocket and you fished out your phone from it.

"Wer r u?" it read, the text was from Seungmin. You looked at the time and you cursed when you found out you were in that room for almost two hours.

"It was fun talking with you Chan, but I really need to go," you fixed your clothes and put the glass down on the nearest table.

"You too, see you at school," he said and gave you a small smile. You waved goodbye to him went out, his figure disappearing as you finally closed the door.

"Where have you been?" you jumped at the sound and look at the source, Jeongin had messy hair and a bottle of beer in his hand.

"Are you drunk?" you asked.

"No, just a little tipsy. Come on, Seungmin is waiting for us outside." he practically dragged you through the crowd until he came into a halt.

You could hear the crickets outside of the house, the music was not as loud and it felt a little peaceful. You see Seungmin and Felix talking as Jeongin dragged you behind him.

"There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you!" Seungmin said and rushed to hug you.

"Hi Felix," you said as soon as Seungmin had let you go.

"Did you have fun? I didn't see you inside," Felix asked.

"Yeah, I had a lot of fun. Thank you for inviting us Felix." you said and gave him a kiss on the cheek. A red tint replaced your kiss as he began to stutter.

"M-my c-chauffeur will t-take you g-guys home,"

"Thank you." The three of you said in unison just as a black car stopped on your side.

You were the last one to reach home because you had to help carry the boys since they fell asleep in the car. You thanked the driver and tiptoed towards the stairs of your apartment. The landlady will be pissed off if she found out you stayed past curfew.

Before you could reach the first step, a hand covered your mouth and dragged you, you thrashed around, fighting back the tears that were threatening to fall from your eyes. A sharp pain was jabbed on the side of your neck and you felt being thrown at the backseat of a car. You tried to stand up but your body felt putty, a cold and icy feeling rushed through your veins and to your brain, causing your visions to fade into black.