#but i am alive + life has been very full lately (mostly of good things)

[curiosity-killed]

house of the blood-soaked sky

[ALT ID: A digital illustration where a messy swath of blood leads to a man standing with his hands folded over a saber's pommel. A partial solar eclipse glows behind his head.]

[lynrasa]

To Dust You Shall Return: Phantom/Secret

Why is there not more of this? She's basically canonically a halfa.

(I know the answer is because Young Justice is vastly underappreciated. Shh.)

Some notes on Greta Hayes | Secret as a halfa. 

Based on her described power set, she is absolutely a halfa and would fit right in to Danny Phantom without any real adjustment. 

Given the specific variety and format of her powers, she is a halfa almost exactly as OP as Danny. 

The only part of her story that doesn't fit the 'halfa' thing is the simplicity of her death. There doesn't seem to be a portal involved in her death, and Danny doesn't appear to be a psychopomp. That's fairly easy to fix: the tape deck that Billy | Harm used to kill her was chanting a summoning spell / portal opening spell. It's clear that she and / or Billy had some magical ability before their respective deaths, so that might have affected things as well.

Alternatively, Greta was mostly just an extremely powerful ghost until Darkseid (Side note: the fact that Greta called Darkseid Doug Side [and he let her] is not played up nearly enough) returned her to life, at which point she becomes a halfa or maybe some other flavor of undead since she doesn't seem to have access to her powers anymore.

If she is a full halfa and possibly just as a ghost- Greta has a Smoke Core. Also, I like the idea that, like Danny, she has Ancient potential from the beginning. She can literally be the Ancient of Secrets, which would neatly explain both her Core (Smoke and Mirrors) and The Abyss. On the other hand, The Abyss can just be the jacked up version of Danny storing shit in his chest. 

Her Obsession would be her greatest weakness because Greta is basically obsessed with Normality / Life. I like the idea that Obsession loss- Secret starting to give up on the idea of Normality helped lead to her insane jealousy over Robin. She briefly fixated on him from an Obsession point of view- the secondary obsession (which could also fit into the larger obsession- CompAllo) helped shore her up. Also, I generally see Tim as a late-bloomer in the whole Romance thing. He does stuff more because it's expected of him not because he actually feels things. I am also heaadcanoning him as on the younger end of the Young Justice group. I don't know if I'll put Secret on the higher end, but even so, girl puberty generally starts before boy puberty.

Also, Tim is very much a product of CompHet 90s masculinity, honestly as bad as Kon. So he did not grow up reading romances, he did not watch romcoms, etc. Greta did. So she takes it as a love declaration, but Tim was thinking more of emotional support / backup. He meant it; he was sincere, but he doesn't really understand overpromising (he never will). It's part of his problem with Spoiler, too and Jack Drake. Tim's emotional priority is Batman Gotham. In the words of Eliot Spencer "You can't make that promise to more than one person."

I really like the idea that Greta is a halfa and the one Secret eluding her is transforming on her own. First, she can't find the secret to being human, then she can't find the secret to being a ghost. Given Doug Side's involvement, I expect her transformation is paradoxical, something like the moment she stops wanting to be alive she can be returned to life or the moment she stops wanting powers she can be a ghost again? No, that doesn't seem to fit.

Something about the Anti-Life equation though. And she is a psychopomp, she is a portal? The anti-life equation incites a death wish in people right? Or a wish to cause death? Harm may have been an early devotee of the Anti-Life equation, which means it could have been involved in Secret's death. Why did Secret make a good sacrifice for Buzz / for the Anti-Life equation? Was she already a paradox? Someone filled to the brim with vitality, but with a dark / death-seeking place inside them? Or was it about potential? The most life converted to death? Something like that. 

Regardlesss, I really really want to write something with Greta and Danny. Do I want to write them together? I mean, that feels cutesy and too perfect and Mary Sue-ish, but honestly it would be reasonably true to both their characters. Maybe this could be college shenanigans.

Actually, I really like the idea that Greta's 'secret' nature means that her ectoplasm is completely undetectable if she's not in Ghost form. So Danny has no clue that she was ever Secret, was ever a ghost, and they're dating.

At some point Danny comes clean about he was to Greta and she blows up, something on the order of "NO! NO! NO! I GOT AWAY FROM DEATH. IT CAN'T HOLD ME ANYMORE. I WAS FREE!" I think the key word there is 'was'. Her emotional distress forces her back into her ghost form. At which point, she, somewhat understandably, blames Danny and attacks him, "YOU DID THIS TO ME! TURN ME BACK! LET ME GOOOOOO!"

Danny had absolutely no idea that Greta was a halfa before she transformed, and is confused by her apparently out of nowhere halfa transformation, especially the bit where he couldn't sense her until she transformed. He can sense Dan, Ellie, and Vlad. And even Val and Jazz and Sam and Tucker (high level liminals). Also, she's really strong. Like really strong. Like, if she actually knew how to fight other ghosts at all, she'd probably be the most dangerous person he'd faced since [either Pariah Dark or one of the Ancients]. She's only used to fighting the living though and she's busy having a mental breakdown, oh, and there's the bit where Danny is King. So, he's able to soup her and take her to Frostbite, since he's really worried about her. [Also, ship name is now Dry Ice]. Absolutely going for Ghost Emote Communication, so the entire time, Danny is apologizing to her in Ghost. 

Shit. I was thinking about playing this for laughs, but now I've accidentally had Danny repeat one of her major traumas. Fuck. Okay, There will be lots of Greta learning about her biology- not her powers, she knows how to use those, she just needs to figure out how to transform. She will not figure it out immediately, but Danny is able to help her transform back by transforming with her. (Very shoujo, I know, whatever, she's a 90's character and by making her a halfa I gave her a magical girl transformation. Also, ectoplasm follows Green lantern rules, so when she first masters transforming on her own, Greta absolutely has a Sailor Moon style transformation sequence, though she gets to skip the pose at the end, and her halfa outfit is always her Young Justice character design.)

Actually, I really like the idea that- while this is a forced to remain in contact scenario- Danny leaves everything for Greta to choose. Also, while he didn't tell the specifics until the start of this story, she did know he wasn't standard human. He was open about that, just not that he was dead instead of meta. When she first transforms out of anger she goes straight to Secret's outfit. The first time she means to transform from human to ghost, she appears "in the outfit she died in". Greta died in the bath, so she's naked. Danny immediately closes his eyes (despite having seen her naked while they were dating- I don't know that they actually had sex- that might have been skinny dipping or an "almost" or just a changing situation [Anita has no body modesty; I suspect this rubbed off on the rest of YJ after they knew Tim's identity].) and talks her through how to change her outfit as a ghost.

At first, her transformations happen due to extreme emotional distress. She's always furious when she finds Danny to help her transform back. She manages to stay out of sight- she's good at stealth, but she hasn't figured out invisibility. Danny earns back a little bit of goodwill by teaching her to go invisible immediately. Especially because Danny does not treat her as stupid for not knowing. He keeps up a running commentary about all the trouble he had when he first encountered his powers and how shit a teacher he is. (This is actually true.) It also helps that he treats invisibility as a basic safety precaution rather than a 'cool power'. So, for future transforms, if she transforms, she immediately goes invisible.

She also appreciates (once she notices) that Danny stopped assuming she was his girlfriend as soon as the fight happened, but did not stop being available for emotional support. She also appreciates that he's never asked about her death. [She didn't get the cultural stuff any more than he did. She doesn't know that asking is severely taboo in ghost culture.] Danny, for his part, desperately wants to give her the culture stuff he didn't get, particularly the stuff that caused him so much trouble, but has noticed Secret's particular aversion to discussing her powers or ghostliness. Jazz or maybe someone else warns him to let Greta set the pace, and he takes the advice. 

Things start to turn around when a Young Justice fight- ooh, no, better. Cissie is taken hostage / kidnapped by a particularly crazed fan. This has happened before. I think her identity is public (need to check), so normally this is solved by Cissie shouting for Kon. Or better, she shouts for Cassie whose identity is also public, but usually Kon shows up. They set this up specifically- lots of people think to shout for Superboy; no one shouts for the Wonders; they're not known to have superhearing.

Except this time: the core four are in space. All of Young Justice is still in a group chat, so Cissie knows shouting won't do her any good and Greta knows that Kon and the rest can't help Cissie when she sees the breaking news alert. She has contact info for the Justice League, but her justified experience as a member of Young Justice is that the Justice League will not listen to them and can not be counted on. She makes a mental note to bug [Red] Robin into giving her the information for the Titans and the Outlaws. Then she hunts Danny down in their human forms so he can switch them to ghost and she can go save Cissie.

She isn't the only Young Justice reservist who shows up. Anita can teleport. Also, Danny follows her, but when he sees Secret and Empress flawlessly fall into fighting together, he wisely decides to stay well out of it, except at one point he turns Cissie intangible to prevent the crazed fan hurting her. Cissie and Anita assume Secret did it (No they don't, but they aren't going to press Greta about it. Headcanon: Young Justice rules of order state that the person gets three strikes or until it reaches WTF level before there's an intervention to demand an explanation. There are levels to acting on a Young Justice league WTF by the way. Level 1) Bart is told. Level 2) Tim is told Level 3) Cassie is told Nuclear option: Tell Kon and ask him to keep it from Tim and Cassie.) 

Once Cissie is free, Anita and Cissie's main concern is figuring out if Secret is dead again. They're really upset about that idea which makes her happy. She assures them it's only sorta and tells them she can change back. She ducks out of sight. Danny helps her change back without a word- he can manage invisibility in human form, but mostly just stays hidden. Cissie and Anita are desperately happy Greta's not dead, but also concerned. They know Greta wasn't really interested in her powers. All she wanted was to be normal.

Greta assures Cissie that Cissie's safety is worth more than Greta's normality. Anita's a little tactless about it, but that's Anita. Greta and Cissie get it; Anita loves heroing and wants to get back to it full time. Anita heads home. Greta ducks back into hiding so Danny can help her transform back, then carries Cissie to the police station. Cissie lies and says she was saved by Superboy and Empress, but they had to rush off to some other disaster. Greta and Danny fly back to campus and Greta quietly and more than a little grudgingly- she doesn't want to forgive him yet- thanks him for helping her save Cissie. She also thanks him for staying out of the way. Danny admits a little about his own vigilante past and they fly back in silence. 

Sometime after Greta has started to figure out transforming on her own, someone on the campus dies. Greta feels the pull towards her duties as psychopomp. When she gets there, Danny is also there, pulled by something he doesn't know to the spot. Greta starts to do the psychopomp thing, but something about her appearance specifically sets the soul off. She sighs and tells Danny to try. Danny does not know what she's talking about.

Uno Reverse Card. Greta hadn't known they were halfas; Danny hadn't known they were psychopomps. He freaks out- less violently- but otherwise a lot like hers. Danny is surprised he's never had to do it before. Much later, they find out he actually has. Greta is a psychopomp for those who will move on, Danny for those who will remain. She is Mercy and Judgement and the End. He is Compassion and Memory and the Beginning. Some souls, like the one on the campus, are undecided, so they both get pulled to them. They don't meet everybody who dies, just those who need a little help.

Also, like with Kathy, sometimes they can lead the person back to Life instead of to Death and the Afterlife. When Greta does this, the result is no more than a little liminal. When Danny does it, it makes undead of some sort or another, or at the very least, high level liminals. This is due to the excess of ectoplasm in Danny and the difference in their roles as Psychopomps- she's Death / The Abyss, he's Afterlife / The Infinite Realms. Or, in their role as dualities, She's Life or else Death he's Life and Death.

I may end up altering their uniforms so she has a ⊻ and he has a ∧ as part of their costumes (Logic symbols: Either Or for her, And for him). Possibly on capes. Maybe capes which only appear when they're being formal. This amuses me immensely, because I'm a dork. Also, I'm adding notes: On his cape, the shape is basically made out of galaxy- matching the representation of the milky way. On hers, it's curls of smoke and / or whitewater. (Because I will absolutely reference Abhorsen whenever I can. Always. Continuously.) 

[what-if-i-just-did]

So, the subject of 9/11 has been coming up in my life lately for some reason, and like everything I think about, it quickly got infused with my spn obsession.

Now I'm not American, and I wasn't even alive at the time, but Sam and Dean are and were. And it's the type of thing, where you remember exactly what you were doing when it happened, right? So, what where Sam and Dean doing?

It's 2001. This is the year that Sammy left for Stanford. Not only is it the year Sammy left for Stanford, but it's very, very soon after. The school year starts late august or early september. The Twin Towers crashed on the eleventh of september, so... not exactly early september, but not quite mid, either. Let's say Sammy's been gone about two/three weeks. Now, I figure John kept Dean around for one more case before he sent him away- couldn't look at him, only saw Mary, probably blamed the boy for Sammy leaving. Dean's walking around with this pit in his stomach, thinking he wasn't good enough to keep his family together and some mild panic about not being able to take care of Sam and some exsistential dread about who is he if he's not taking care of Sam. He's probably flirting too hard with all the girls in his cases, choosing the whiskey over the beer just a little too many times. Fingers hovering over the call button at any given time. This is the general state of Dean during this time.

Sam? He's just gotten out of the life. He's just promised himself he's never gonna hunt again, he misses his brother but he's more angry at him, for now. He hasn't made any friends yet, and it's starting to get to that time where his body feels he's been in one place for so long now that his dad is gonna come pick him up soon. He's antsy, but again, angry. Stubborn, smart. It's gonna take a long time for him to feel normal while staying in one place for more than three months at most. He's barely started adjusting to civillian life.

Now John. There's a journal entry for september eleventh. It says he suspects Supernatural interference with this, and he's been on the phone with other hunters all day. He's gonna head down to New York to take a look at things, and he's meeting up with people over there. No reference to Dean or Sam at all, nothing about being worried. The most emotional thing in the entry is the first sentence, "Shaken." .Honestly, it's more than I expected from him. The man has worse emotional regulation than Dean does, and that's saying something. He's still dealing with shoving down whatever form of hate or regret or pride come bubbling up when he thinks about Sam taking off, so he's not thinking about it.

I think he called Dean. I think it was a short conversation, full of "Yes, sir."'s from Dean's side and orders that looked like questions from John's. He says he called to get Dean's opinion of the Supernatural element of the crash, but Dean'll only say what John wants him to and somewhere, he knows it. He does not realise the reason he called Dean is to make sure Dean's alright, and he tries to distract himself from thoughts of Sam by keeping busy.

It's random Tuesday, and Sam probably signed up for some 8 o'clock class, so that would be what he was doing when the planes crashed. Of course, soon, the news got out, and classes got cancelled. Sam's head becomes chaotic, because of course this happens during his first few weeks, that's just his luck, and he's worried, about his dad but mostly about Dean. He calls Bobby, who's fine and tells him his dad's fine too, and Sam thanks him and hangs up, because he doesn't wanna waste the man's time. He and a bunch of other students are huddled around a tv, terrified. Ten AM, the first Tower collapses, and he has no idea what to do. He wants to help, but... what can he do? He wants to call Dean. He doesn't know what to do, he doesn't know what's going to happen. He's terrified. He spends the majority of the Eleventh huddled around that tv, with a bunch of other students he doesn't know as well as he could. It takes one, maybe two days for Sam to decide to get to New York, probably with some other students, so he can help. It's only about two hours away, and the impromptu medical skills he's gotten from patching up his dad and brother may not have helpedn anyone, but he can damn well help clean up.

Dean wakes up between five and six AM, has a beer, cleans his guns. He knows what's happening fairly early for someone who isn't in New York, because he checks the news, wether he's looking for a case or out of boredom or out of habit, and he kinda panics. He thinks, I don't know where dad is and I don't know if Sammy's safe I can't protect him and shit are we under attack what's gonna happen next and he kinda panicks. If he's already on a case, he kinda forgets about it. He stays in his motel room all day, following the news and thinking up worst case scenarios. His dad calls him, shortly, and he manages not to sound scared. His dad suspects demons did this or something, but he doesn't really care. At least he knows his dad's safe, and if he's feeling something about the fact that dad didn't ask him where he was or if he's okay, then he shoves it down and pretends it's not there. Eventually his worry wins out over whatever was stopping him from calling Sam, and he has to cough when Sam picks up because otherwise he might do something else. He can tell by Sammy's tone of voice that Sam's scared, and doesn't once bitch about Dean calling him. Just says he's safe and worried and still at Stanford, and that's good enough for Dean. Dean subcounsiously avoids New York and area for the next year or so, worried about something or other. No one he knows is dead, he should be happy.

Okay, wow. That got longer than I expected it to.

[ohmym1stake]

infodumping about my grey's anatomy blorbos: edition #2

this time around i am midway thru season 10.... my #1 blorbo is about to leave and im worried and scared because of some spoilers i read. but anyways here is my current analysis!

BLORBOS

- meredith grey. we started off rocky but i love and support her wholeheartedly now. has done the least stupid stuff as a doctor! bonus points for that. has gone through so much more than she deserves.

- derek shepherd. has done a lot of stupid shit and is a very stupid and reckless man. but underneath all of that he is a good man who wants to do good and help people. an amazing father!!!! and husband.

- cristina yang. the closest to perfect. i wish she would stop making awful relationship decisions. in my world she is happily married to a woman. a nurse, maybe.

- george o'malley. my perfect perfect son. ohhhhh my son. i am so sorry you died. i wish you had gotten to be happy with callie and have a great little family together and be an amazing surgeon.

- callie torres. brilliant surgeon brilliant woman. a little stupid at times. but i think her strengths are all way stronger than that.

- mark sloan. also very stupid! but in a very charming way. was amazing to watch him grow and change.

- lexie grey. deserved a better exit from the show wtffff. got used as an extra trauma to throw at meredith or something like damn. she was amazing and excellent in her own right. justice for lexiepedia.

- april kepner. BABYYYYYY. amazing and deserves the world, honestly. i have nothing but admiration for her i think.

- heather brooks. AAAAAAGH?!!!!! she was so cute and fun and brought an energy to the show nobody else has! deserved soooo much better.

HALF BLORBOS.

- alex karev. has done too many messy and problematic things to be a full blorbo but like derek he is ultimately a good man who wants to do good. amazing peds surgeon. can't wait to see him as a dad i bet he'll be a little league coach.

- miranda bailey. now normally she would be full blorbo but she's been bothering me a little lately! amazing surgeon! amazing woman! but she needs to get her life more under control or something.

BLORBO BY ASSOCIATION

- jackson avery. i was gonna put him in "it won't work" but it could eventually idk. he's great for april and a good doctor! i don't like his face tho and mostly he kinda bores me

- reed adamson. i think i would have loved her so much if she got to live longer. i think about her and april a lot.

PARTIAL BLORBOS

- addison montgomery. i think i just don't see her enough to be a full blorbo. excellent character tho.

- teddy altman. i think when she comes back on the show she'll get an upgrade but right now she's away and not on my mind. she was pretty damn good tho.

- stephanie edwards. she's really great but right now her plot is kind of just avery. i hope to love her more soon!

EX BLORBOS.

- izzie stevens. used to be my favorite.... she was so great. honestly i blame cancer for everything. Except the denny lvad thing i think that was precancer. but the romance with george that she dropped so fast? and then doing all that crap to alex? unforgivable. i hope she finds happiness in a new life with new people but i want her far away from my blorbos.

IT WILL NEVER WORK BUT I DON'T HATE YOU

- owen hunt. i DO hate his pro-life stance. treated cristina awfully there. but he is also the best love interest she had. and he's a great trauma surgeon, and the best chief i have seen! we just have too many differences to ever truly blorb together.

- arizona robbins. Honestly? most of the time i Do hate her. but i also respect her too much to Anti her. especially her growth after losing her leg! but it fucking sucked for callie. i think if the show had kept mark alive i could have gotten along with her more but she has been awful to callie way too much.

- leah murphy. Mad respect for her crazy but her emotions are also what ruined her. i hope she has a good career elsewhere.

- ben warren. sometimes he's good for bailey sometimes he makes her worse. but i respect him.

I DON'T KNOW

- jo wilson. uhhhh..... she just kinda exists i don't know. sometimes she's good for alex. but i am not very interested in her. does not spark joy.

- charles percy. i think we would have had a very rocky relationship had he lived but i think the way they killed him was very artful? it was one of the best death scenes i have seen.

ANTI BLORBOS.

- richard webber. he has done too much fuckass shit and acted insufferably FAR too many times. way more tolerable as a general surgeon and not as chief but still incredibly irritating.

- preston burke. took advantage of cristina in so many ways and never once truly considered himself and his own actions. selfish, awful man.

- erica hahn. Too bitter. involved emotions in her work in a way i disliked? i think she was never meant to be a main character.

- shane ross. Bruh what the fuckkkkk. he has done way too much wrong. maybe someday if we actually tackle the fact that he kinda Killed heather we can be at least partial or something but ..... i don't want him on this show.

- ellis grey. Noooooope. don't even care about all her groundbreaking work or her disease or whatever. i want nothing to do with her.

- adele webber. i hated her so much and there was no reason to make her so evil and irritating so much??????? the show would have been way more interesting and webber might have been more redeemable if she had been Good.

- sloan riley. this girl pissed me offffff like she went thru it she was having a bad time but ultimately she just ruined shit for mark and lexie and that sucks.

- catherine avery. whenever shes around and is rude to jackson he becomes a temporary blorbo. he doesn't deserve the shit she puts him through. frustrating character overall. But! mad respect to her work as a urologist she always brings interesting cases to the show!

[orphancookie69]

10/2024: Wisconsin Family Trip!

It is funny how life happens. In one month I pass up like 4 trips and in the months after when things "calm" down I go on back to back trips in the same week! I am not sure what killed me more but I am mostly alive still! No regrets though, family reunions are great!

Monday:

We flew from SNA to PHX in the early afternoon. There was a small layover in Phoenix. The first flight was 1 hour and then the next flight was 3 hours. We flew from PHX to MSN. Both flights went great. We rented a car, a KIA SUV, and man Kia came to play-it was a solid car. It was a 2 hour drive from Madison to Bloomington. There was also a 2 hour time difference, so it was uber late when we got in. One of our family members met us in town and guided us in, which was really nice. We stayed up way too late talking but it has been a minute since I have had such a warm welcome-especially since I have not met many of these people before. (If I did meet them, its been many years and I was very young).

Tuesday:

Waking up the next day, with California being 2 hours behind Wisconsin, was fun. Family members came by that lived down the road or in the next city over. We were told that there was a bakery down in town that was good, so we walked to get some donuts. It was funny, as my family has a reputation so when we walked in-between association or small town news-people looked at us funny. It was really dark when we came in so we took a drive to see the state in daylight. Driving to St Feriole Island was so pretty. Man that is God's Country. We saw the Wisconsin River and the Mississippi River. Villa Louise is nearby so we made plans to tour that later and go to Shihata's Orchard after. Beautiful lot, great products-I can't wait for them to have an online store. We tried Apple Salsa and Jalapeno Berry Jelly. SO GOOD. We toured Villa Louise and I loved it. The house and furniture dated back to 1839. We headed back to the family house. By the time we were back, dinner was done and kids were home from school. The energy a house has when its full of people is amazing. We played some Farkle. We got a family photo, and man that was pretty cool.

Wednesday:

Everyone woke up and we had breakfast. I had a request from back home for Wisconsin Cheese, and really I don't blame them. So we went to Carr Valley Cheese in Fennimore. We hit a thrift store and a coffee shop on the way back. We came back and had dinner with everyone and did more Farkle. We had an early bed time and packed as much as we could the night before.

Thursday:

We got up really early. 2 hour drive from Bloomington to Madison. We dropped off the rental car and went through security. General rule of thumb is to get to an airport 2 hours before the flight leaves. Before we board, they make an announcement that there are some technical issues they are working on. They "fix" them and we board. The flight time gets delayed twice and then we deboard so they can fix the issue. We reboard and then take off AN HOUR LATE. So the original flight we planned to catch got changed around. When we landed we went back to California/Arizona time. Short layover. Then we flew to SNA. It took an hour to get back to my house from the airport, and another hour to get my grandmother home. Funny to think how little ground you cover in 2 hours in california vs wisconsin.

My mom works for American Airlines with her Fiance and set this up to see her mom's side of the family for her mom. We were her first flight trip she set up since she started working there. The weather was supposed to be colder but it was surprisingly warm for this time of year. Most things start to shut down for the season as winter starts to come. I generally enjoyed this trip, some trips feel more like work than relaxing for me. But family is everything and I look forward to seeing them again. Would you go to a family reunion?

[cock-and-ball-dorture]

Day Four?: I asked him to hang out with me all day today like 3 days ago cause I was feeling emotional at the time. Then this morning when I went to get him, I almost chickened out. I felt nervous and conflicted. I didn’t want me to get all emotional all day. But I did pretty good. Didn’t cry once.

(Did tear up when he was telling me about his depression and I was saying that I’ll be there for him cause he was always there for me and it got me thinkin about how grateful I am that he was cause otherwise, who knows if I’d still be here and I’m glad I’m here cause despite all of this I’m really happy I’m alive and I’m in love with life)

I took him to the park cause I wanted to show him that we could still do fun stuff together and I thought it might help cause he’s kinda been in his head a lot lately. I thought we’d eat a little breakfast and walk around. But it was kinda cold so we ended up sitting on a bench, sharing a blanket, talking, and looking out at the water. The lake (?) was beautiful. So still and yet, you see the ripples of the water proving that it was full of life. I was really glad I decided to go.

Things did take kind of a weird turn when he told me that all the nature and stuff made him horny. We ended up doing hand stuff [god that makes me sound like a teenager lol] while I drove us back to the apartment. I bought a toy on the way there. We had sex. It was mostly good. But then during it there was a point where I could tell that he might be physically having sex with me but he was mentally thinking about all the stuff he does with her. And I don’t even need to say it but I clearly am not her.

We hung out. Things were chill. We got in a small fight. I said some things. I’m pretty sure most of it was true but then again I was angry so I don’t remember everything I said. We calmed down, took a nap, picked up our kid, went to the store, and all had dinner together. It was nice. I feel like we cleared the air on somethings. Not everything tho. So there’s still some confusion. But he still loves me. I know he’s not coming home anytime soon tho. (Unless he tells her about our recent activities lol) But at least I don’t feel the need to cry about it anymore. I mean, I might at some point cause this is a lot of emotional stuff but for rn I’m okay.

Then we boned again to make up from the time before and it was really good. He was actually like, with me this time lol overall, it was a pretty nice day. I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I still love him. But I’m going to be okay. I hope he will be too. And maybe one day will figure this whole thing out. Either platonically or romantically. But I know at the very least, I’ll always have someone to save me from myself when I need it. And he has someone who would do the same. And I think that’s all we can really hope for right now. And that’s okay.

I can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings. Everyday is worth living. Even the hard ones.

I hope one day you feel the same and can find peace and joy and light and a beautiful love of life. You will always be worth it to me.

[bethanie28]

blessing season 

The enemy loves to get in my head and tell me thats it’s too late too to do the things that God asks me to do.  I believed for years that it was  too late to start that new career, its  too late to break away from unhealthy relationship and even now … its too late to start this blog. Now that being said Hi, Hello, my name Is Bethany Hope. I want to officially Welcome you  to my personal blog. I  Know its the end of the year but I feel a urgency to post today. i use to think my story was unique but really  it isn’t. The things I am going to share on this blog are warning signs to some but are also very relatable to others. So lets get started. 

There’s this terminally called cuffing season is normally used among menials and Gen Zers but everyone participates in this act. Yes even the old boomers and anyone with a pulse.

Cuffing season is done mostly in the fall and winter, it’s the time when people connect themselves  to things that are below their value or convenient for the time being. 

In the urban dictionary cuffing season means “ it’s a season of loneliness and desperation you settle for our relationship that’s beneath your standards” 

This definition uses relationships as an example but its not about just relationships please keep reading. I want to be clear everything has consequence  good and bad.  Being cuffed to anything that is not christ Himself will lead to death in time. For example being cuffed to wanting to getting married  is just as unhealthy as being cuffed to money the little things you do will become patterns and become big problems. I’ll come back to this in a moment. 

 To to make this easier to understand. Imagine my friend coming over to hang out and she  asked me for a quick snack I wouldn’t go to the garbage can to grab her  something to eat. Why ?? Because the garbage can is not a standard for someone to eat from. We all know how ridicules it would be if someone went to their garbage to grab you food. You and I both have a standard when it comes to food. We know no matter what we are not eating out of the trash. This Sanrio may seem like a no brainer  but the “eating trash” is just an example of the real thing we settling in our lives. some examples can be love for money, wanting a relationships and or a successful  career. If you’re a believer or not I want to tell you the things you  are doing in just “for now” knowing its the very thing that is destroying you. you would never settle to eat trash because your hungry even if no one was watching right? keep the same standard in al areas of your life.

Im not off the hook either. Ive been in many situations that destroyed me because I was lonely, inpatient and board. I will open up on this blog about my relationships, difunctional eating and personal insecurities. I have endured lot of pain because of my own choices. Ive been bound up by shame and guilt for years. The "well sees" are never fun.

let this be a blessing season . a season that is a thirst trap or distraction a season that isn't lonely but full of life. Where God pours out peace and direction onto your life. A season that God blesses you so you can be a blessing to others. Do not be fooled by anything. Dont wonder looking for food in the trash cans. what you find is contaminated. Please do not be curious about things of the world. Ask for help, ask for prayer be honest with you self if you need help. Just like you choose what to wear everyday you choose to receive Gods guidance.

I believe everyone who is reading this God sent you to this blog this message is no mistake.  God sees you and he loves you. stand tall and pray that God revels all the areas where the enemy is lying to you. read His word for guidance and rejoice that youre alive today.

read with me   Romans 12 verse 2 Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.

Please let me know how I can pray for you. share is you must but most importantly I love you and God loves you

Bethany Hope

[thegrandlinesimp]

Heya Line! 💗 Congratulations on 100 followers, I am very proud of you for reaching this milestone! 🤗 I've been in a very fluffy, lovey dovey mood lately so may I request D, K, and W from the fluff alphabet for our most beloved mochi husband, Katakuri? This wonderful deserves the world and more, it is my life mission to spread the love for Katakuri as much as possible 😉 Thank you so much! Don't feel pressured to write this either, it is up to you if you want to take this request 💕

I

AM

ALIVE!!!!!!

*Eye of the Tiger chorus plays*

I’m back to writing, my final assignment is coming along well, all I have left to do is the annotations for all the resources I found (the finding took the most time so I’m glad I took time off writing to focus on that). Finish the wireframe (draft layout of a webpage) and do the report. I know it sounds like a lot but trust me, it isn’t.

AND WE’RE KICKING IT OFF WITH A KATA REQUEST!!!

MY SWEET MOCHI HUSBAND!!!

Wanna stay up to date? Come sign my taglist form!

Tagging:   @lautluk

Katakuri Fluff Alphabet: D, K, W

(Look at him, he's so cool! 😍)

Dreams (How do they picture their future with their s/o?)

His ideal future with his s/o is surprisingly very white piquet fence-esque, cozy house in the woods, at least half a dozen children running around (he doesn’t mind if they’re biologically his or not) and a dog and a cat that like to lounge in the sun together.

But he’s all too aware this can’t become a reality if he wants to continue to protect his large family.

His more realistic future is quite calculated, thinking beyond if his mother was to pass away from old age, he knows either Perospero or himself will take her place as head of the Big Mama pirates. If a brawl were to occur for the spot, he knows he’d come out on top, same if it came down to a family vote thanks to his popularity. With this path thought out, he pictures himself on a throne as the new King of Totto Land, his s/o either on his lap or by his side. As for kids, he sees himself having a sizeable brood of children, no more than fourteen and a bare minimum of three, most of which are adopted (think like Doflamingo taking in stray kids but for less nefarious reasons and more to just give them a home).

Kiss (Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?)

Kata? A kisser?

Nope, not till he met his s/o.

First step here is for him to first reveal his face to them, once they show him they don’t see anything wrong it’ll still be quite some time before he’s ready to kiss them. Mostly because he’s scared his teeth will hurt them.

For his first kiss (and quite a few after) he won’t initiate, and after the first couple of times he’s gonna be checking their lips to see if he hurt them or not. Slow and steady is the way to go with Katakuri, honestly, I think he’d be sleep with his partner before trying a full on make out with them. However, as he gains experience, so too will his confidence grow and he’ll be less hesitant to initiate, just give him time.

Though if his s/o individually kisses each of his four fangs he will get chocked up, no matter how hot and heavy things have gotten.

Wild Card (A random Fluff Headcanon.)

This man lives for cuddles, has no idea what being touch starved meant till his s/o cuddled up to him one night. He now requires them to get to sleep and is restless if he ever has to go away on a mission for his mother.

Also, please for the love of god if his partner is bigger than or a similar size to him let him be the little spoon every now and then. Man hasn’t been held since he was an infant and it makes him feel so warm and happy inside, he feels like crying! In fact, even if they are smaller than him, they should just drape themselves over his shoulder as he lies on his side.

Just hold him please, it makes him so happy.

[maxmayfieldirl]

Okay so like, here's the things I think/want to happen in vol 2

Before I say anything: I am well aware that it's merely 4 hours so I know not all of this is gonna happen. I suppose this is also things I want in s5 as well.

Starting off strong with the confirmed deaths!! Who it will be we do not know yet but I have some thoughts.

Of course I'm sure y'all have seen me mention the Wheeler's quite often. I am mostly convinced it will be one of the Wheeler's who dies. I strongly believe it could be Karen solely bc of her poster--or Nancy but Nancy has been my favorite since s1 so I really hope it's not her.

As for the other deaths, Eddie bc of his string of bad luck lately. I mean. He was literally accused of murder, kinda hard to come back from that.

Max bc well. Vecna. That's my only reasoning really. That and she mentioned Kate Bush loosing her magic powers... Normally it would seem like a regular piece of dialogue but like. It's stranger things we're talking about.

Other potential deaths but I don't feel strongly enough about them:

Steve bc he gets the shit beat out of him every season so he's not far off from death. I don't have much to say other than its just a gut feeling. Something bad is gonna happen to Steve, he's a fan favorite.

Dustin, why? I dunno, a gut feeling. He told Steve something along the lines of "if you die, I die". Also he hasn't really had a lot of personal run ins with the upside down. Too good for too long I say. I hope I'm wrong though, stay good Dustin

Jason bc he's so insistent on this all being the work of devil and his gf literally just died so why wouldn't vecna pay him a visit? He's so invested in this, he's seen a death with his own eyes he just can't seem to see the truth. It'd definitely be interesting

I am hoping for a mutual Mileven break up, I just. I like them as friends. They worked together so much better as friends. We see it in s1, they get along so well but as they start dating it just. They're not really getting along? They do but not the way they did before.

Of course I need sibling interactions!! Byers family (which seems to happen!!! Woo!!!), Wheeler family, Sinclair family!!!! I need it!!

A Mike and Nancy hug!! Them literally acknowledging each other's existence and not arguing please!!!! I need it!!

Big Brother Lucas™️ protecting Erica. Like I just want them to interact for more than a minute. Like a sibling moment without others. A soft sibling moment!! They bond!!! A hug...? Come on Duffers!!!

Byler. I don't need them to get together this season. I just need them to interact more. I just yeah. They can get together next season. Yeah

Core 4 party members literally just existing in the same room together we've been robbed. I miss their friendship, they seem to get divided a lot.

Flashbacks!! I want to know more about the pasts of the characters and the upside down. What were they like years ago, before it all happened? What is the full story of the upside down? Maybe just a little tease.

El and Hop reunite, an extremely emotional one too. If not that than El at least has to find out Hop is alive. Please she needs something good in her life.

I know I've strayed away from theories but I feel like it will end on a cliffhanger and pick up from s5. I'm pretty impatient so I don't want this but it would be interesting. I believe it build up to everyone going in the upside down and fighting their very last battle there. My guess is they start s5 with the final battle there and the last couple episodes is the aftermath.

I know the Duffers mentioned a time skip but they've lied about other things so.... Plus it'd be pretty cool.

I am 100% fully convinced the final battle will be everyone against vecna in the upside down.

Maybe Hawkins will be swallowed whole by the upside down. The show seems to be leaning towards the end of the world type thing but maybe it's just me.

I also wanna know what Max's letters said. And what Erica found under Lucas's bed, I believe that's what it was.

It's getting late and I'm getting a little too tired to think of other things rn so I'll leave this here, feel free to add your opinions and what not. Do be respectful about it.

If you'd like to hear more things like this, my ask box is open ^_^

[edenmemes]

misc poetry sentence starters

❝  one gets so used to one’s own horrors, one forgets how they must seem to other people.  ❞ ❝  you remind me what love lives in this skin.  ❞ ❝  you are the most phantom-like of all; you are a mere dream.  ❞ ❝  i’m not telling you a story so much as a shipwreck—the places floating, finally legible.  ❞ ❝  the world was made so we can find each other in it.  ❞ ❝  the night isn’t dark; the world is dark. stay with me a little longer.  ❞ ❝  i want you desperately. i want your strength and your softness, your hands, all of you.  ❞ ❝  is that too much to expect? that i would name the stars for you?  ❞ ❝  against your cheek my hand is warm and full of tenderness.  ❞ ❝  the world grows green again when you smile.  ❞ ❝  your share of pains would fill a sea.  ❞ ❝  i’m so stuck on the ‘was’ of people.  ❞ ❝  what i love in you is your power of loving, a bit wild, a bit primitive, but absolute.  ❞ ❝  i like figuring you out. you are so human and puzzling.  ❞ ❝  the unwillingness to try is worse than any failure.  ❞ ❝  you wanted happiness. i can’t blame you for that.  ❞ ❝  i did violence to my own heart.  ❞ ❝  i don’t know how to stay tender with this much blood in my mouth.  ❞ ❝  like a magpie, i am a scavenger of shiny things: fairy tales and dead languages.  ❞ ❝  and here you come with a shield for a heart and a sword for a tongue.  ❞ ❝  you kiss the back of my legs and i want to cry.    only the sun has come this close, only the sun.  ❞ ❝  sometimes being offered tenderness feels like the very proof you’ve been ruined.  ❞ ❝  when will it cease, this monstrous rage of yours?  ❞ ❝  i will plant my hands in the garden. i will grow, i know, i know.  ❞ ❝  i had it all and i want it back again.  ❞ ❝  i don’t care about anyone, and the feeling is quite obviously mutual.  ❞ ❝  we are two reflections that cross swords with each other.  ❞ ❝  as for me, i am a watercolour. i wash off.  ❞ ❝  do you dare send me away as though you were were waiting for something better?  ❞ ❝  my dear, you are in danger of being burned by your own flame.  ❞ ❝  i am three oceans away from my soul.  ❞ ❝  you, occasionally, glimmer with a light i’ve never seen before. it frightens me.  ❞ ❝  i went to sleep last night so i could see you.  ❞ ❝  even the eyes of gods must adjust to light. even gods have gods.  ❞ ❝  how much can you change and get away with it, before you turn into someone else, before it’s some kind of murder?  ❞ ❝  it does me no good to be good to me now.  ❞ ❝  i may look alright, but if you were to look more closely you wouldn’t find a single healthy bit in me.  ❞ ❝  i must clothe myself in other worlds.  ❞ ❝  suffering is the privilege of those who feel.  ❞ ❝  sorry about the blood in your mouth. i wish it was mine.  ❞ ❝  the vigor, the fire, that enables you to love and create. when you lose that, you’ve lost everything.  ❞ ❝  i can be bold, because i have you with me always.  ❞ ❝  you are shaking fists and trembling teeth. i know: you did not mean to be cruel. that does not mean you were kind.  ❞ ❝  not that i want to be a god or a hero, just to change into a tree,  grow for ages, not hurt anyone.  ❞ ❝  i laughed today. for a second i was unhaunted.  ❞ ❝  you are sunlight through a window, which i stand in, warmed.  ❞ ❝  there’s something electric in your blood.  ❞ ❝  you say you are broken,   but broken mirrors like you create the most beautiful patterns of light.  ❞ ❝  time doesn’t obey our commands.  ❞ ❝  i love you quite passionately, and with a touch of tragedy.  ❞ ❝  to feel anything deranges you. to be seen feeling anything strips you naked.  ❞ ❝  i love you --- like a storm bursts overhead --- i must confess it; all the more fiercely because you burn and bite.  ❞ ❝  and i have seen rivers, not unlike you, that failed to find their way back.  ❞ ❝  i am less a god now that you’ve touched me.  ❞ ❝  your words are gentle; but my blood runs cold to think what plots you may be nursing deep within your heart.  ❞ ❝  you said i killed you --- haunt me then.  ❞ ❝  your soul is frail and solemn, loyal and spring-like.  ❞ ❝  you look like you’ve eaten the sun, like you drank so much sunlight you’re drowning in it.  ❞ ❝  strangeness is a necessary ingredient in beauty.  ❞ ❝  you will hear thunder and remember me.  ❞ ❝  ever think it’s possible for us to be happy?  ❞ ❝  and i would wonder across all the deserts of this world, even after death, to search for you.  ❞ ❝  since we’re bound to be something, why not together?  ❞ ❝  i am ashes were once i was fire.  ❞ ❝  this mouth will destroy you the moment you mistake it for something soft, for something that is yours.  ❞ ❝  it’s no easy thing to bear, the weight of sweetness.  ❞ ❝  kill the light! i’d rather wallow in the dark.  ❞ ❝  i have thought of you often since the darkness.  ❞ ❝  with your presence the sun becomes irrelevant.  ❞ ❝  there is no god left in this skin. there’s just the ash. just the ash.  ❞ ❝  open your eyes, look more sharply, see me as i am.  ❞ ❝  what the hell is tragedy? i am.  ❞ ❝  i’ve got a lot of feeling for you. you’re kind.  ❞ ❝  how beautiful it is, how beautiful, that glow before the stars break.  ❞ ❝  so much to do today: kill memory, kill pain, turn heart into a stone, and yet prepare to live again.  ❞ ❝  i am myself. that is not enough.  ❞ ❝  i may be mad, god-seized, but i will stand outside my madness.  ❞ ❝  my power, which to me is still a curse ---  ❞ ❝  ocean sea with its caressing swell; it has so often cooled my heart.  ❞ ❝  do you bathe in perfume, and dry yourself in light?  ❞ ❝  i like you; your eyes are full of language.  ❞ ❝  let me tell you what i do know.    i am more than one thing and not all of those things are good.  ❞ ❝  you are the cause and the cure --- both.  ❞ ❝  i have kisses for the back of your neck.  ❞ ❝  your beautiful glance is unbearably cruel.  ❞ ❝  we might meet again, someday between dreams at dawn.  ❞ ❝  suffering is a terrible fire; it either purifies or destroys.  ❞ ❝  lately it hurts more to imagine you are a stranger rather than a destroyer.  ❞ ❝  and i say to myself: a moon will rise from my darkness.  ❞ ❝  since you walked out on me, i’m getting lovelier by the hour. i glow like a corpse in the dark.  ❞ ❝  i will not whine. i will obey and be forever still.  ❞ ❝  you move like the moon.  ❞ ❝  my eyes ache with the weight of unshed tears.  ❞ ❝  in your eyes, the fires of twilight.  ❞ ❝  do not haunt my soul; i have done well forgetting you.  ❞ ❝  i am no one. i cannot love. it’s in my blood.  ❞ ❝  you’re wearing your armor to protect your heart. who can blame you? it only makes sense in a world like this one.  ❞ ❝  you are not real. you are a dream of a dream.  ❞ ❝  there are so many things i’m not allowed to tell you.  ❞ ❝  i am indeed a shameless, evil-minded and abominable creature.  ❞ ❝  come this evening --- i am eager for stars.  ❞ ❝  i am on fire with that soft sound you make, in uttering my name.  ❞ ❝  i want you mostly in the morning when my soul is weak from dreaming.  ❞ ❝  to me you are the desert and the sea; everything secretive.  ❞ ❝  i thought i was wounded to the core but i was only bruised.  ❞ ❝  it is a dead heart. it is inside of me. it is a stranger.  ❞ ❝  i live --- but i’m mutilated.  ❞ ❝  if there is a light then i am going to swallow it.    if there is a god then i’m going to make him cry.  ❞ ❝  i am condemned to be a saint or a monster: unable to be the one, unwilling to be the other.  ❞ ❝  you will open your wounds and make them a garden.  ❞ ❝  i come home --- and i feel like a ghost returning its haunt.  ❞ ❝  i planted roses, but without you they were thorns.  ❞ ❝  everything inside me is in revolt.  ❞ ❝  how this darkness soaks me through and through.  ❞ ❝  give me my robe, put on my crown; i have immortal longings in me.  ❞ ❝  say something dangerous like i love you.  ❞ ❝  listen, are you breathing just a little, and calling it a life?  ❞ ❝  in times of crisis, we must decide again and again whom we love.  ❞ ❝  breathe the scent of little, earthly things. let the twilight touch you.  ❞ ❝  my heart is just like the ocean, has storm and calm and tides.  ❞ ❝  you became for me a sacred being, not to be touched save in adoring thoughts.  ❞ ❝  gods are stubborn. so am i.  ❞ ❝  is it better to out-monster the monster or to be quietly devoured?  ❞ ❝  there’s something soft in me. i killed it and it’s rotting.  ❞ ❝  beware. beware. there is a tenderness.  ❞ ❝  half gods are worshipped in wine and flowers. real gods require blood.  ❞ ❝  i’m alive. like a wound, a flower in the flesh, the path of aching blood is open within me.  ❞ ❝  you dangle on the leash of your own longing; your need grows teeth.  ❞ ❝  i have it in me...to scare myself with my own desert places.  ❞ ❝  my mouth still houses century-old magic.     in my ears i hear a ringing and singing and no god.  ❞ ❝  keep talking. i’ll keep walking toward the sound of your voice.  ❞ ❝  i’m full of poetry now. rot and poetry. rotten poetry.  ❞ ❝  this skin is sick with loneliness.  ❞ ❝  memories are sharp. they bite. i have spent most of my life trying to grow a thicker skin just to make sure i would not bleed out whenever i felt those teeth scrape up against me.  ❞ ❝  i wonder if i will ever find a language to speak of the things that haunt me the most.  ❞ ❝  after fury, what do you do with the remains?  ❞ ❝  come on, dance with me. the earth is spinning. we can’t just stand on it.  ❞ ❝  let’s admit, without apology, what we do together.  ❞ ❝  try to find the right place for yourself. if you can’t find it, at least dream of it.  ❞ ❝  it takes grace to remain kind in cruel situations.  ❞ ❝  i am too full of life to be half-loved.  ❞ ❝  today you want nothing because wanting comes too close to feeling.  ❞ ❝  there’s nothing more terrible, more alluring, more mysterious than love.  ❞ ❝  heavenly wine and roses seem to whisper to me when you smile.  ❞ ❝  my soul is devoutly and wholly under your spell.  ❞ ❝  will you see the human in my being?  ❞ ❝  if i had a flower for every time i thought of you…i could walk through my garden forever.  ❞ ❝  part broken part whole, you begin again.  ❞ ❝  i don’t know if love’s a feeling. sometimes i think it’s a matter of seeing. seeing you.  ❞ ❝  i wonder which will get you killed faster, your loyalty or your stubbornness?  ❞ ❝  whether you come as a lover or an exeutioner, i am ready to receive you.  ❞ ❝  i think i understand your longing. it looks so much like mine.  ❞ ❝  i’ve had so many knives stuck into me. when they hand me a flower, i can’t quite make out what it is.  ❞ ❝  i like the sea: we understand one another. it is always yearning, sighing for something it cannot have; so am i.  ❞ ❝  do i not live? badly, i know, but i live.  ❞ ❝  something of you stuck with me. a splinter.  ❞ ❝  i clung to your hands so that something human might exist in the chaos.  ❞ ❝  sometimes i shut my eyes, and shut my heart towards you, and try hard to forget you because you grieve me so, but you’ll never go away. oh you never will.  ❞ ❝  my golden love, if only you knew, what precious honey you are for me.  ❞ ❝  i had an old wound once, but it is healing.  ❞ ❝  always this in-betweenness, this almost, this it might be that...  ❞ ❝  when i close my eyes, i see you. when i open my eyes i want to see you.  ❞ ❝  dark as it is --- you see, that little flickering, is the light of my soul.  ❞ ❝  am i a monster or is this what it means to be a person?  ❞ ❝  i am talking about evil. it blooms. it eats. it grins.  ❞ ❝  sapphires are those eyes of yours, ravishingly sweet.  ❞

[high-functioning-lokipath]

The Servant - Loki x Reader - Words: 4,568

A/N: Sorry for the late posting today, I had some personal issues this morning so I haven't really been online. Hope you enjoy it! 💜💚

You were orphaned at a young age, never even knowing your parents. The only thing you did know about them was on your 1,000th birthday you would receive a gift from them. Something they had planned to give you even before you had been born.

Growing up was, of course, difficult but thankfully, by your 800th birthday, you'd climbed the social ladder enough to be accepted as a servant in the palace. Surprisingly enough, after almost 50 years of working there, you still had not met the royal family. You chalked it up to working mostly night shifts and didn't give it much thought.

On the morning of your 850th birthday, having had the previous night off, you had planned on sleeping in some and then making the most of your day. However, you were quite rudely woken by 2 young maids, who you were somewhat friends with, rushing into your bedroom.

"Y/N!" They exclaimed. "Get up quickly! The queen has requested to speak with you!" You blinked a few times, not believing what they'd said.

"Did I get full last night and forget about it?" You muttered. They pulled you out of bed and selected your best dress from your closet. "What does she want to see me for?" You asked as they helped you dress. Suddenly you were feeling quite nervous and very sick to your stomach.

"We can't tell you," The one girl, Alexandria, said. "But I promise you it's all good things. You'll be very happy!" The other girl, Hildegard, didn't say anything but smiled knowingly.

Before you knew it, you were being shoved through a set of doors and staring at a table full of the most delicious breakfast foods you had seen. "Good morning," A voice greeted. You looked up at the speaker and realized Queen Frigga had been sitting at the table all along.

"Oh! My queen!" You gasped, curtsying quickly. "My apologies! I didn't-"

"Do not fret, Y/N," She smiled kindly. "Please, sit with me and eat. I'm sure you're hungry."

"I-" You paused, smiling gratefully. "I am actually. Thank you." You sat down and served yourself a small amount, not wanting to appear greedy. The Queen was surprisingly easy to talk to, asking about how various things in the palace were doing while in turn she allowed you to ask different questions about palace life. You found yourself smiling and laughing with her as you both ate.

"Do you know why I called you here this morning?" She asked.

"Not the foggiest," You admitted, shaking your head. "This is quite nice, of course, but I am a bit curious."

"Today is your 850th birthday, is it not?" You nodded quickly. The Queen took a sip from her glass, before continuing. "One of my sons is in need of a new servant. The previous one just got married to a young man from Alfheim."

"How nice for her," You smiled. Your brain, however, caught up with what Frigga was implying. "Wait. You mean you want me to be a servant to the princes?"

"Not the princes, dear girl. A personal servant to one. They each have a personal servant to care for their daily needs. You are not only qualified in skill and ability, but also in age. We never assign maids that are too young to the princes. They can be," She paused, chuckling quietly. "They can be a lot to handle. However, I think you will be just fine." You were speechless, staring at the Queen in shock.

"I-yes! Of course, your majesty. I would be honored."

I have not told you which prince you will be working for," She said, raising an eyebrow in mild surprise at your immediate acceptance.

"Does it matter?" You asked. "It is an honor no matter to be working for your family directly." Frigga nodded approvingly and smiled.

"Then you will not care when I say the position is working for my son Loki?"

"My Queen, as I said before, it would be an honor. I have never heard any ill spoken of you or your sons. So why should I care who I am to be serving?"

"Your attitude and innocence will either lead to your success or your quick demise. I wish you all the best. Now come, I will show you to your new quarters."

You and Loki became fast friends. He treated you more as a peer than as a servant, especially since you came to find out the two of you were the same age. You were surprised at how easygoing the young prince was. Working directly with the royal family, you did start to hear palace gossip about them and you were disheartened to find most of it was about Loki.

One day, when you'd finished with the daily chores you had in Loki's room, which was more like an apartment, Loki walked in and flopped down on the freshly made bed.

"Loki!" You screeched. "I just made that!" You ran over, trying to stretch the quilt where he was not laying at least. Loki smirked at you and your eyes widened. "No, no, no! Loki! I know that look! What are you up to-eeee!" You squealed as he pulled you onto the bed, officially messing up all the sheets. You both laid there for a while, laughing and simply enjoying each other's company. "Why are you back so early?" You finally ask.

"Thor was feeling sick today and-" He paused, looking away sadly. "The others had better things to do."

"They didn't want to fight with you?" You asked. He shook his head and you scoffed. "You are a far better warrior than all of them combined. They should consider it an honor to fight you."

"Y/N, love, you are too kind. But-" He was interrupted by someone opening the door.

"Prince Loki, your mother requests your presence," A young girl said. One of Frigga's maids you recognized.

"Of course," He sighed. "My apologies for messing up the bed," He said, turning back to you.

"It's alright, Lo-Prince Loki," You replied. It was sometimes difficult to remember to add the honorifics on his name after becoming such close friends. But the girl was watching and you didn't want to appear disrespectful.

It took about 2 weeks for you to finally figure out what was going on. Ever since that day in Loki's room, the other servants, with the exception of your friends Alexandria and Hildegard, had avoided you like the plague. But today it all came out. You were in the laundry about to fold the clothes Loki had asked you to wash when you heard two maids talking a few tables away. One was Frigga's maid and they were obviously unaware of your presence in the room.

"They were in bed together!" She whispered scandalously.

"No!" The other gasped. "Tell me more!"

"The sheets were quite a mess. You could tell there had been quite a bit of," She paused briefly, smirking. "Activity." The two of them laughed quietly. "And that isn't even the worst! She almost called him by his name without a title! And he even called her ‘love’!"

"Oh my!" The girl gasped. "I suppose it makes sense. She is Prince Loki's personal servant. And I suppose she should serve him personally," She winked. "Although I do not understand why he would be interested in a thing like her?"

"A whore does not have to be pretty to be talented," Frigga's maid replied. The other girl hummed in agreement.

Hot tears fell down your cheeks. You bit back a sob and hurriedly gathered Loki's clothes in a basket. You ran out of the room and straight to Loki's quarters. As much as you wanted to hide away you had to finish your chores but you couldn't stay there. When you reached his room you placed the basket on the bed as it was the best spot to use like a table. Looking at the bed though, you burst into tears, falling to your knees beside the bed.

"Norns! I've never wanted to stab someone so much!" Loki yelled, bursting into the room. You gasped, standing up quickly, trying to dry your tears.

"What happened?" You asked, turning away from him so he couldn't see your face and trying to keep your voice even.

"Odin! Blasted Odin! He dared to imply that-argh! That man, he dares to call himself a king much less a father-" Loki yelled. He was so angry he couldn't even finish a sentence. You patiently listened, trying to finish folding his clothes.

"What did he say?" You asked quietly.

"He implied things," Loki said vaguely. "About my behavior."

"Has he not done so before?" You asked, slightly confused as to what made him so upset today. Loki shook his head.

"Not like this. He-" Loki winced slightly, hesitant to explain. "He wasn't just talking about me in this instance."

"Ah," You said. "So who's honor has you so upset? Lady Sif's perhaps?"

"Why would I be upset over her?" He exclaimed, finally looking up at you. Rushing over to you he grabbed your hands, pulling you closer to him. "Darling! What happened? Why are you crying?" You pulled away quickly, wrapping your arms around yourself.

"Please don't call me that!" You cried. "I-I'm sorry, Lo-Prince Loki. I am not feeling too well. Could I be excused to my quarters? I will send someone to finish with your laundry." Loki nodded slowly, very confused, and you ran off.

As you ran down the hallway, you collided with someone and you both fell down. "Y/N! Where's the fire?" Alexandria laughed as she got up. She reached to help you and saw your tears. "Who hurt you?" She asked.

"I'm just not feeling well," You lied.

"That is a pitiful excuse. What is wrong?" She ordered. As you walked to your room with her, you explained everything. "Oh honey! I'm so sorry that happened! You stay here. I'll send Hildegard to bring you some food and I'll go take care of Loki's laundry. Ok?" You nodded sadly and laid down as Alexandria hurried out. A few hours later, after you forced down part of the dinner Hildegard had brought you, there was a light knock at your door.

"Come in," You said, voice hoarse from crying. Slowly your door opened and a raven-haired man peeked in.

"Y/N?" Loki said, stepping in carefully. "How are you doing?" You wanted to scream at him for coming. You wanted to tell him to leave. But you were tired.

"Sadly, I am alive." Loki chuckled lightly and sat on the edge of your bed.

"For that I am very much glad," He smiled, resting a hand on your arm. "Alexandria told me what happened." You stiffened at his comment, every worst possible scenario rushing through your mind. "That's actually what Odin was speaking of earlier. He said that I was of age now and, well, he said there would be no consequences if I chose to find, how did he put it? Comfort? In one of my maids?"

"I see," You said slowly. "That-that makes sense," You continued, sitting up in bed, hands in your lap. "After all you are the prince and you have more important things to worry about than where to sate your needs." You looked away, nervous at what his reaction would be. You would be lying if you said you didn't want to be with him. But you definitely didn't want to be an object. Something he simply used and then ignored when it was no longer needed.

"Oh my dear friend," Loki sighed. "Do you truly think so little of yourself? Why do you think I was so upset earlier? After my meeting with Odin?" He brushed the stray strands of hair out of her face, ones that had fallen out of place while she slept. Turning her head towards him he smiled at her, eyes brimming with tears. "You are far too precious to be treated like that. I would never want to treat anyone so,” He crinkled his nose, searching for the right word. “So insignificant.”

"I appreciate that, Loki," You replied, blushing slightly. "But that doesn't change what they think. I'm so sorry. It's not your fault. Perhaps I should go away. At least I wouldn't hear any of the rumors they have to tell."

"No! Please don't go!" He immediately said, reaching out to hold onto you as if you'd take off right then. Running one hand through his hair he sighed. "Perhaps this isn't a good time to tell you."

"Tell me what?" You asked, reaching out to touch his hand but hesitated slightly, nervous as to how he would react. Loki stared at you, watching your movement. He took you hand in his and chuckled dryly.

"I care for you deeply, Y/N. You're my closest friend but," He paused. "But I wish for more. I love you. Very much. If you don't feel the same way I understand. If you want a transfer or want to leave I can have that arra-"

"No!" You yelled, interrupting him. "No! I don't want to go! I-" You gasped. "I love you too!" You laughed happily. "I just never thought you'd feel the same way!" Loki grinned, hugging you tightly.

"I promise to love you till the end of time," He whispered. Stroking your tear-stained cheek gently with his thumb he smiled sadly. "I know things will not be easy for you with the other servants. And I will try my best to make things right. But please come to me, darling. I never want to see you suffering alone."

"Okay," You said, smiling gratefully. He leaned forward and kissed you softly, chastely.

"If I am going to court you, we're going to do this right," He said. "I shall speak with the Allfather and Allmother today."

To your great happiness, they allowed Loki to court you. However, to your surprise, they never agreed when he asked to marry you. 1 year turned into 10. 10 into 100. Soon you had found yourself having courted Loki for over 200 years. They had gone by in the blink of an eye it seemed and, though you both wished to marry, you were happy as long as you were by each other's side. Loki had asked for your hand so many times that Frigga and Odin began to answer him before he even asked. He never stopped asking though.

One day, as you neared your 1,000th birthday, you woke in the middle of the night to a loud clatter in the hallway followed by a curse. You giggled, recognizing Loki's voice, and ran to open the door.

"Loki!" You whisper-yelled. "What are you doing? It's 3am!"

"Y/N!" He exclaimed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. I simply knocked over a-"

"Loki, it's ok," You chuckled. However, you noticed he was unusually quiet and wouldn't look at you. "Loki? Is something wrong?" He slowly looked at you, a cool expression taking over his face.

"I was leaving you a note on the door. You'll have a new assignment in the morning."

"Oh! Loki! Did they finally say yes?" You asked excitedly, running towards him. He quickly backed away from you, shaking his head vigorously.

"No," He said. "I-I think it best we don't see each other any more. Therefore I asked for a change in your assignment."

"I don't believe you," You replied. Loki's expression contorted into one of anger.

"If you don't believe me then go read the note I left you! After all this time you don't even trust me?" He yelled.

"Loki!" You hissed, grabbing his arm before he could back away. "I trust you with my life. Don't make this into that argument. We've been over it already. I meant I don't believe what you're saying. I don't think you truly wish our relationship to end. I think someone or something has gotten to you or threatened you and I think you're trying to 'make it easier on me' by making me hate you before you go. Well guess what? It's not going to work. We promised each other to be in love till the end of time and I, for one, am keeping my end of the bargain so if you don't get in here, sit down, and explain to me what's going on I'll go to Frigga myself and ask her."

"Okay," Loki agreed, suddenly looking tired and defeated. Following you into your room he sat on the edge of your bed, fidgeting with his hands. "Your birthday is coming up," He said.

"Yes, it is," You replied, sitting next to him. "What does that matter?"

"Recently, my mother told me that your parents left you a gift for your 1,000th birthday." You nodded, wondering where he was going with this. "I am," He paused. "Familiar with a custom of certain families, usually ones of higher ranking, that they give their daughters a husband on her 1,000ths birthday. And-" He took a shaky breath, looking away. "I fear that is why we've never been allowed to marry. I think Mother knows what your gift is."

"Oh," You said. "I-I never thought of that. I never dreamt-" You started to cry, suddenly afraid of being taken away from the love of your life. Loki pulled you into his arms and kissed your forehead softly. No more words were exchanged. Loki and you eventually fell asleep reclined on your bed, you cradled protectively in his arms.

The day finally came. You were 1,000 years old by Asgardian terms and you were terrified. One of Odin's servants came to you with a request for your presence at breakfast and an excuse from all your duties that day. You bit your lip nervously. Not having to work today meant you had no real excuse to see Loki before breakfast. You hoped he would be there at least.

"Good morning, Y/N," Frigga smiled as you walked into the dining room. You curtsied and forced a smile back.

"Your highness," You greeted. Odin walked in the room and nodded at you before taking his seat at the head of the table. You curtsied again and then heard Thor coming in with his usual ruckus. Turning around you saw Thor physically dragging Loki into the dining room. The latter quickly walked in on his own when he saw you already there.

"Y/N!" Loki exclaimed, running up to you and hugging you tightly. You giggled and hugged him back. Odin cleared his throat pointedly and the two of you quickly pulled away. Frigga shot her husband a glare and then smiled softly at you and Loki. You all sat down, you and Frigga on one side, the two Odinsons on the other side, and Odin at the head, while the servants brought out the food. You tried to help them but Frigga tapped your arm and motioned for you to sit.

"You're a guest today, my dear girl," She said. You nodded, feeling awful for not helping. Eventually, the meal was finished, though you ate very little, and Odin stood up.

"Today is a special day," He boomed, smiling at you. "I will skip over a long and flowery speech since I care for those very little and I'm sure you are anxiously awaiting your gift." You looked away, a bit embarrassed that it was so obvious. "Do not be upset," He chuckled. "There is nothing wrong with your excitement." You looked up at him again and smiled slightly. Loki was right all these years, it was odd to see Odin happy. Somehow his cheerful attitude doubled your nerves.

"Are you ok, brother?" Thor whispered to Loki on the other side of the table.

"I'll be fine," Loki snapped. He shot an apologetic look at Thor and nodded. "Just worried," He added. Thor nodded and patted his brother's shoulder firmly.

"This paper, a letter," Odin said. "Was written to you, Y/N, by your parents shortly after your birth. As you can see, it is sealed with my seal and has not been opened. I, myself, as well as the Queen were present at it's writing." He broke open the seal and started reading.

"Our dearest Y/N, our love, our daughter,

You may not get to see it until much later, but to us, your parents, your eyes hold a bright future. You've yet to say a single word but you've got us wrapped around your little finger. We can't wait to see what a beautiful woman you'll become. We have lain a path for you before birth and now that you're here, it is time to take your first steps in this new and exciting world. No matter what, you will always have our love and support whenever your life shall lead you. Whether we're far or near, we will always be there with you, every step of the way.

As we said, we have something planned for you. Something that will allow you to fulfill your greatest dreams and something that we hope will give you all the happiness in the world.

Many moons ago, your father saved a man's life in battle. The man promised to repay that debt. It was agreed that our families would be joined by the future marriage of our children. The man later had a son, and we, of course, had you."

At this point, hot tears were streaming down your face. As happy as you were to hear how much your parents cared for you. You now knew Loki's fears were correct. This was why you'd never been allowed to marry him. Each word suddenly became as a stab to your heart. Loki, for his part, was not faring any better as he listened.

"That man was our wonderful King, Odin. We hope you, our lovely Y/N, find all the joys you could ever hope for in your marriage to his son.

We want you to know how much we love you and we wish you all the happiness possible as long as you live.

Your parents ~"

Loki's chair screeched as he stood abruptly. Your head snapped up to look at him but he was already storming through the dining room doors.

"Father?" Thor said uneasily, looking quickly between Odin, you and the door through which Loki had left. "What's the meaning of this?"

"Well, my son," Odin said with a wide smile. "It means that Y/N has been promised to-"

"No!" You exclaimed, standing up. "Thor," You said, looking at him. "I love you like a brother. You'll be a fine husband one day but I'd rather die before I marry you." Turning to Odin you saw a frown painting his face. "Throw me in the dungeons, kill me, whatever you wish, but I will not marry Thor. I love Loki and I could never hurt him in such a way."

"My child-" Odin started to say but you ignored him, running out of the room. "Guard!" Odin yelled, calling for one to go after you.

"Husband," Frigga said softly. "Let her be for now. Perhaps there can be a solution." Odin reluctantly agreed and Frigga sat beside him to reason with him. Thor quietly slipped out, feeling rather awkward.

He wandered out to a secluded part of the gardens, a spot he knew Loki loved to hide in. He smiled sadly when he found you curled up in Loki's arms at the base of a willow tree. "I won't do it," You sobbed, gripping his shirt tightly as you cried into it.

"You have to," Loki said, running his hands soothingly over your back. Although his was just as upset, he was trying to be strong for you. "It's been decided," He whispered. "At least you'll be safe and cared for. Thor may be my oaf of a brother but he'll treat you well."

"No I won't," Thor said walking up. "Well, not that I would-" He sighed frustratedly. "I mean that I won't take her." Loki looked up at his brother in surprise.

"Brother, what-"

"Loki," Thor said, sitting down beside his brother. "She refused me already," He chuckled. "Father was not happy but I believe Mother is trying to change his mind." He clapped Loki's shoulder and smiled. "She's yours. I would never dare take that away from you." The three of you sat in silence for some time before Frigga came and found you.

"My children, please come back to the dining hall. I have spoken with Odin and we've made a decision." Reluctantly you followed Frigga, holding tightly to Loki's hand.

As you walked into the dining room, Odin stood up and smiled at you. It was a forced smile, but a smile nonetheless. "Y/N, you have refused to marry Thor, correct?" You nodded immediately. "And Thor, you have refused to marry Y/N?"

"I cannot take her away from my brother, from their happiness." Odin nodded thoughtfully.

"Well then, here is my decision," Odin said. Frigga cleared her throat pointedly, shooting him another glare. "Our decision," He corrected. "This letter was written a few months after you were born, Y/N. Although we'd made the agreement before your birth, it did not go into effect until it was written." He sighed loudly and looked back at the paper. "And by this time Loki was already in our lives." Loki looked at you hopefully, squeezing your hand lightly. "And the letter does not specify which son you are promised to. So it is my great pleasure," He said somewhat sarcastically. "To give you to my son Loki as a bride. Will that be acceptable?"

"Yes!" You exclaimed. "Yes! Oh thank you!" You were nearly screaming in excitement. Loki was frozen in surprise, having never expected his father to give in to their wishes.

"Really?" He asked in almost a whisper. Frigga nodded at him and hugged her son. "Thank you!" He said. Turning to you he smiled widely, hugging you tightly and spinning you around. You laughed as he spun you, happy beyond your wildest dreams.

"Oh Loki!" You cried as he put you down. "I love you so much!" He grinned, kissing you earnestly.

"I love you too, my queen," He smiled. You blushed brightly, looking away.

"Enjoy your day together," Frigga said. "Tomorrow we can make the announcement and start making plans." You both nodded and hurried off to the gardens again, this time much happier.

"And to think all this started because your previous servant got married suddenly," You mused as you walked through the gardens arm in arm.

"Oh it wasn't sudden at all," He said. You stopped in your tracks, staring at him in surprise. "We'd been planning for her departure for some time. I had seen you working and quite liked you but you weren't old enough to be a servant of the royal family yet." Your eyes widened with every word. "I made mother wait to find me a replacement until you had your birthday."

"You chose me?" You gasped. He smiled, turning to face you and brushing a few stray hairs away from your face.

"I will always choose you," He said, smiling widely. "For all time."

"Always."

Loki

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[andawaywego]

If you’re still taking prompts, can I make a suggestion? Could you maybe write one about Jamie being busy starting up the leafling (or something) and Dani feels a little neglected so she buys something sexy to get Jamie’s attention.

so i actually had a few prompts for Dani buying lingerie. i guess we were all thinking it, huh? this kinda got away from me, but i hope you like it! smutty smut ahoy.

..

Valentine’s Day, Jamie is learning, is one of the most brutal holidays there is; at least, it is when you own a flower shop. Two years in and it’s a hard lesson. Tiring, even. Exhausting. The orders start pouring in starting about a week out and then it’s practically nonstop until the whole thing is over.

Last year, it felt like they got through it by the skin of their teeth. By the end of it, she and Dani had gotten so good at communicating a lot of information quickly—order sizes, specifics, pickup times—that they’ve almost become mind readers. At least when it comes to each other.

This became especially useful once they hit wedding season that same year and Jamie only realizes how much she’s come to rely on this anomaly once she’s without it.

On Valentine’s Day this year, Dani is sick and at their apartment resting and Jamie is forced to finish everything up on her own. It could be worse, she thinks, because the timing is at least a little less suffocating than it may have been if she’d had to send Dani home early the day before. The only business she’s really had all day were customers coming by to pick up their orders or last-minute love day stragglers coming in to buy whatever she had left.

It could be worse. Really it could.

By the time she closes things up, the whole shop sort of looks like someone took a large vacuum to it, sucking up just about all the plant life from the displays and walls. It looks sort of like a ghost town. Jamie briefly imagines a tumbleweed rolling by. Locks the door behind herself. Turns her feet towards home.

She worries as she walks, the complex where they live only a few blocks from the shop itself. Wonders if maybe she should stop somewhere and get some soup for Dani or something, and then remembers that it’s Valentine’s Day and decides to avoid going to a restaurant.

She can always come back out and brave the headache later. Right now, she’s mostly focused on getting home to check on her girlfriend.

The apartment is quiet when she steps inside. It isn’t as if she was expecting any different, but it still catches her off guard. Only the lamp by the sofa is clicked on, meaning that the rest of the space is shadowed in darkness. The radiators by the window hum and it’s a little too hot—buildings like this, she’s learned, don’t know the meaning of “happy medium.” They spend the summers fanning themselves like southern church ladies and the winter much the same. Fall is reserved for wearing too many layers as they wait for the building manager to decide to turn on the radiators.

She shrugs off her jacket and hangs it on the coat rack. Keeps her boots on for now even though Dani hates that in case she ends up having to go back out. Heads toward the hallway, toward the bedroom, where she assumes Dani must be resting. Walks slowly to keep the floorboard-squeaking to a minimum.

It isn’t until she passes by the bathroom that she hears it: the music drifting gently from the bedroom. A soft drum beat and a voice singing. She doesn’t immediately recognize the song, too busy wondering why Dani is listening to music while she rests. Gives up on tip-toeing and just hurries the rest of the way.

And then, well—

Hot and stuffy in the apartment from the radiators, sweating a bit in her shirt right at the small of her back, and a shiver still trembles through Jamie’s body when she steps into the bedroom, when she sees what’s waiting for her.

“Hey,” says Dani, perched at the bottom of the bed and smiling in that way Jamie knows she only does when she is very, very nervous.

“I thought you were sick,” says Jamie.

“I know. I’m sorry. I just wanted some time to set all of this up.”

All of this being the record she’s got playing from the stereo in the corner of the room, the candles she has lit on top of the television and on the table next to her side of the bed, and, most importantly, what she’s wearing.

Her makeup, her hair, decked out like every single fantasy Jamie’s ever had and never before let herself consider. Worst of all: she’s wearing lingerie. Purple lingerie. Purple lingerie that hardly leaves anything to the imagination. Jamie swallows so hard it hurts a little.

And she’s seen Dani naked before. Of course, she has. Plenty of times. She’s seen her in nice underwear that matched the bra she had on a handful of times, too. But this is different. Lovely on her or not, those things were still functional as undergarments. And this? This isn’t.

This is see-through lace and long, smooth legs. It’s ruffles and a short-sleeved silk robe that’s hanging off her shoulders just enough to make Jamie’s mouth water.

This isn’t functional. This was designed to cause the exact reaction that it has; this was designed to be taken off.

Dani rolls her shoulders back and flutters her eyelashes in a way that should be silly, but only succeeds in making Jamie’s blood race more thoroughly through her veins. “You’re staring,” she says, playing innocence so well that Jamie almost feels guilty about her inability to tear her eyes away.

Except Dani bought this at some point just for the sole purpose of sitting on their bed looking like that. She did that knowing full well that Jamie wouldn’t be able to keep from eyeing the curves and sways of her, the pale skin and soft lines of her jaw and neck. Wouldn’t be able to want anything more than to press Dani back into their mattress and cover every inch of her, lace and all, with her mouth, her tongue, her hands, and—

“Yeah,” she says. “I am.”

“Something the matter?” asks Dani, so utterly dedicated to this flirtatious act of naivete.

“No, I’m good. Perfect.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Yep.” Jamie turns to glance at the record player as “All Out of Love” comes on. “Cheery song.”

Dani’s act falters. She blushes. “I didn’t know this was on here. It’s...new.”

Jamie frowns and walks over to the record player, reaching for the unfamiliar album sleeve. “Oh? What is it?”

She feels almost guilty for knocking Dani off her game, but she’s so desperately starved for context, for anything concrete to grasp onto so that she doesn’t just pounce, that she just waits for an answer. As it turns out, she doesn’t need one; the cover speaks for itself.

“Wait,” she says, looking it over. “Is this…?”

“You’re not allowed to laugh,” says Dani, pointing at her sternly.

Jamie smiles. “Not laughing. I just can’t believe you actually bought this.”

“The commercials were very convincing!”

“Did you actually call the place?” is her next question because she can’t imagine her girlfriend calling some commercial-boasted number to buy a four-record album named Secret Love just for this occasion. Jamie usually has to call and make her doctor’s appointments for her.

Dani blinks. “No,” she says. “I sent them a check.”

Jamie grins. Can’t help it. Loves Dani so very much at this moment. “Just one payment of $19.95?” she teases and it works: Dani smiles, too, looking less nervous by the second.

“It’s a good deal, you know,” she says.

“I never said it wasn’t.”

“You had a tone.”

“I did not have a tone.”

“Sure you did.”

Jamie isn’t actually sure how she’s managing to control herself anymore. That silk robe slipping off Dani’s shoulder looks so enticing; she wants to press her mouth to the skin it’s left uncovered. Wants other things, too—so many she can hardly decide where to start.

She sets the album back down and takes a few, slow steps towards her girlfriend. Still too far, but closer. “You went to all this trouble,” she says, “for me?”

Dani’s expression softens and she gets to her feet, moving closer. “Yeah, Jay. I did. We’ve just been...so busy lately, which is great! Don’t get me wrong! But...you’ve had so much on your plate and it’s stressful and I didn’t want us to...not get a Valentine’s Day. You know?”

Jamie isn’t sure what there is to say to that except for: “I love you.”

Another step forward and then Dani is grabbing her hands. “I love you, too,” she says, hypnotizing in this outfit, in this lighting, all the time. Her gaze sticks to the pale skin visible through the lace at Dani’s waist, so distracted that she hardly notices when she’s being turned around and pushed back toward the bed, gently guided by Dani’s hands on her shoulders to sit down on the mattress.

The mattress isn’t very tall, which means that, when Dani sinks to her knees, she’s only really a head shorter than Jamie. Her palms run up Jamie’s trouser-covered thighs, fingers curling around them a bit to guide them open a bit so that she can slide her body between them, get closer. Her body is fever-hot and Jamie has the sudden thought that she may not make it out of this surprise alive.

Dani has a knack for making her feel like she’s two seconds from a heart attack every time they’re intimate already. Now she’s wearing lingerie and looking at Jamie like that and Jamie doesn’t know where to put her hands, or where to settle her eyes.

The swell of Dani’s breasts is enticing, so she looks it over for a bit, and then there’s her freckled collarbones, the sleek and taut muscles of her neck. Her pink lips. Jamie feels hot, sweating in her clothes from the heat of the radiators.

Dani looks up at her, blue and brown eyes bright and eager beneath the flutter of her eyelashes. Normally, Jamie would be filling the air with mindless, nervous chatter, trying to calm herself down before the main event, but it feels different this time. The silence, save for the gentle croon of another sappy love song coming from the record player, seems sacred. She doesn’t want to break it for anything.

She curls her fingers in the ends of Dani’s hair, brushing it behind her shoulders, and then Dani is leaning up and she’s leaning down and they’re kissing. Dani’s hands fist the fabric of Jamie’s shirt right at her hips and Jamie cups her face and cranes her neck, and it’s too fucking hot. They should open a window. But Dani’s kisses are hungry and eager and there’s this knot of pain in Jamie’s chest because of it, so she doesn’t dare break away.

Instead, she lifts one of her hands and curves her fingers around Dani’s breast, pushing her palm against it to make the rough lace fabric brush against her nipple. Feels it poke up against her skin a bit and Dani’s answering moan vibrates her lips, flicking her tongue out to tickle the roof of Jamie’s mouth. Jamie scoots forward on the bed to be closer and lifts her other hand to do the same with Dani’s neglected breast.

“Jamie,” Dani pants as she rips her mouth away, eyes clenched shut, “this is supposed to be about you.”

Jamie smiles. “Trust me,” she says,“it is.”

Dani’s eyes open. “That’s not what I mean.”

“What do you mean, then?”

A long look of consideration. Jamie momentarily stops her movements at Dani’s chest. And then Dani unbuttons her trousers and starts tugging at them, saying, “Get these off. That’s what I mean.”

Jamie takes them off. Her shirt, too. Drops each of them to the floor carelessly, too eager for the next part to worry about where they land. In all the rush, Dani begins to slip the silk robe from her shoulders, but Jamie stops her with a shake of her head.

Says, “Leave it on,” with the sort of breathlessness that makes Dani smile.

She leaves it on.

Jamie brushes her thumb against Dani’s nipple and then trails her fingers up the bony press of her sternum. Cups her jaw and cranes her neck down to kiss her, hot press of lips together and Dani gasping into her mouth.

Wanting to be closer in a way this particular position won’t allow, she breaks away from the kiss and guides Dani up by the shoulders until she is sliding her knees onto the mattress on either side of Jamie’s thighs, straddling her. She rolls her hips down and now Jamie can feel the fabric covering Dani’s body against her own skin. Fears she’ll go mad from desire before she can do anything about it.

It’s cooler in just her underwear, certainly, but that doesn’t mean the friction of their bodies together isn’t creating a fine layer of sweat between them. Their legs slide together and Jamie is so wet, so ready, that it’s beginning to hurt a little.

She kisses Dani’s neck and slides her lips up to the corner of her jaw, to her earlobe. She nibbles a little, then scrapes her teeth down to her neck again. Nips at her pulse point then smoothes it over with her tongue. Dani curses against her hair, breath a hot spread across Jamie’s scalp as she rolls her hips down.

A moment later, her hand is working its way inside Jamie’s panties, fingertips brushing against her clit very lightly and it’s Jamie’s turn to curse.

“Fuck.”

Dani smiles, kisses her forehead. “Doing okay?” she asks, that impersonation of complete chastity back in her voice, in her lips, the way her head tilts flirtatiously as Jamie meets her eyes.

“Doing great,” Jamie manages through gritted teeth. She is fighting back the urge to simply reach between them and push Dani’s hand against her harder. She drops her head and presses her lips against one of Dani’s nipples through the lace, mouthing at it hotly and making Dani sag against her, a little boneless, with a moan.

Payback, she thinks, is definitely a bitch.

She can be one, too.

She grips Dani’s hips in that tight, fierce way that Dani likes—thinks it must be at least a little painful, but maybe that’s why Dani likes it—and rolls up into her hand in a way that pushes the back of it between Dani’s own legs.

“Jay,” breathes Dani, and her expression is purposefully seductive, playful even as she is genuinely reacting to Jamie’s movements. She flutters her eyelashes with the best of them and she is the only woman Jamie’s ever been with that can make her go mad just by smiling at her. “Lie back.”

Jamie doesn’t understand the order at first, can’t wrap her head around it because Dani’s fingers are circling her clit now. It isn’t until that hand pulls away and Dani gets back, slowly, to her feet to give her room that she gets it. It feels like every part of her is positively vibrating as she uses her hands to slide back and back. Lowers herself to the mattress all the way and tilts her chin down so she can watch her girlfriend climb up her body in this ridiculously erotic and mind-numbing way.

“God, how are you not naked yet?” she asks, pressing her lips to Jamie’s breastbone, dipping down to tongue at the edge of her bra.

“How are you not fucking me yet?” Jamie returns, just to see Dani’s reaction—the way her cheeks go even pinker, the way she blinks in surprise at her sudden vulgarity.

She swallows thickly. “Patience is a virtue, you know.”

“Not when you look like that it’s not.”

Dani tugs the left cup of Jamie’s bra down and ducks her head to hide the way her expression changes, lips curling around Jamie’s nipple. Jamie can feel her smiling. “Like what?”

“You’re a tease, you know that? You’re such a bloody tease.”

Her mouth moves down to Jamie’s ribcage. “Would you like to lodge a formal complaint?” she asks.

Jamie curls her fingers into her girlfriend’s hair and cranes her neck to get a better look at her in that damned lingerie. “If you don’t touch me soon then yeah, I would.”

She feels the blunt edge of Dani’s teeth below her belly button, scraping down to the waistband of her panties. “Your request has been noted,” says Dani, her voice even and sort of mockingly robotic. “Please allow three to four business for—”

Jamie’s laugh cuts her off, fingers combing through her hair until Dani finally lifts her eyes to look at her again. “Dani, I love you,” she says.

“I love you, too.”

“But you have to do something, or I’m going to—”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Dani catches the edge of Jamie’s panties between her teeth and begins to pull them down like that, laughing around the material as Jamie wiggles and shifts her hips, giggling like a maniac, to try and help. Eventually, hands are required to finish the job. Jamie isn’t actually sure what Dani was thinking.

Goofy, ridiculous Dani. She’s the only woman Jamie’s ever loved, the only woman she’s been able to laugh in bed with, and she went out and bought sexy lingerie, called a number from a commercial to get the proper mood music, sat here on their bed on Valentine’s Day to surprise her.

Jamie doesn’t understand her life, doesn’t understand how she could possibly ever deserve this.

Once her panties are all the way gone and Jamie is naked, save for her bra, Dani’s eyes linger between her legs, a loose smile fixed on those pretty lips. “There you are,” she says.

“There I am,” Jamie exhales, shakily. “Now—”

She should be expecting it, but she isn’t, and so Jamie makes the most embarrassing sound ever when Dani’s tongue first makes contact. An electric shock between her legs, a match being struck, and she arches a little too much off the bed, one of her arms going back so she can comb her fingers through her own hair. Slams her eyes shut to keep from coming almost immediately—this won’t be her only chance, she’s sure of it, but she wants this first one to last—and then has to look, so she opens them back up.

And Dani is always a sight between her legs like this, but she’s on her knees and bent down in a way that makes her breasts hang deliciously, bumping a bit as she licks and curls her lips around Jamie’s clit. Jamie brings her other hand down and brushes her hair out of the way, over her shoulder, so she can see her mouth work.

“Fucking fuck, Dani,” she says, so eloquent with a beautiful woman bobbing between her legs.

Dani hums in response and Jamie can’t help it, groans a little too loudly. That fucking silk robe and the contrast of purple lace to pale skin, blonde hair fisted in her hand, and then Dani brings one of her hands up and slips a finger inside and Jamie feels, very suddenly, like she is splitting apart at every seam that’s ever kept her together.

The sound of Dani fucking her like this is almost obscene. It’s slick and loud, the suction of her mouth audible as she alternates movements against Jamie’s clit. She’s smiling despite how busy her mouth is and then she slips a second finger in, then a third.

It’s so hot, sweat pearling on her chest and forehead. Her hair feels damp at the base of her skull, she feels sort of like she has a fever but everywhere, and fuck—

She nearly bites through her bottom lip as she comes, trying to keep quiet. Her pulse drums like waves on the shore as it whitewashes through her ears, her veins.

Dani pulls back, licking her lips clean sloppily and her eyes are so dark that Jamie feels like she's burning again in moments.

“Come here,” she croaks, propping herself up on her elbows. Hopes that Dani knows what she means.

She must, though, because she doesn’t come up on the side of the bed. Instead, she just straddles Jamie’s waist, giving Jamie a full and uninterrupted view of what she’s wearing again.

“God,” is the next thing she says. Then, “You know how to pick ’em, huh?” as she tugs a bit on the end of the robe.

Dani smiles, somehow shy despite everything else. “You like it then?” she asks, like she has no idea, like she didn’t just fuck Jamie stupid while wearing the sexiest thing to ever exist. “Successful Valentine’s Day?”

Jamie rolls her eyes affectionately. “And the award for Understatement of the Year goes to—”

Dani pushes at her shoulder, giggling. “Hey,” she says. “Give me a break. I stuck out like a sore thumb in the shop I got this from.”

“I doubt that.”

“No, really! Like, three shop girls came over to help me because I was so lost.” She looks so sincerely flustered by this that Jamie can’t help but be endeared by it. “They kept asking me what my ‘boyfriend’—” and she uses air quotes there, “—likes to see me in. What his favorite color is.”

Jamie laughs. “What did you say?”

“I told them I didn’t have a boyfriend.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“And what did they say to that?”

“They asked me what my husband likes then.”

Jamie nearly chokes on her tongue from laughing so hard. Almost knocks Dani to the floor, too.

And, yeah, it’s a pretty successful Valentine’s Day.

[grandinventor]

i really like the loyalists- i find them really interesting. havelock, pendleton, martin. talk about them and your opinions and what went down, i like hearing what you have to say

Oh you are right on time because I am just replaying the first Dishonored and even though I am halfway through I know the rest and I got my memory refreshed on their personalities. I really love the Loyalists honestly, they are in a way both terrible and absolutely compelling characters. I can only talk about Low Chaos because I've never played High Chaos to analyze them there. Thank you though, for giving me the chance to ramble about them now, don't mind if I do~

Havelock - I just realized he has a name now because I was googling to make sure it's spelled with an E. Anyway, not many people do, but I like Havelock. He is a bastard but he is very much convinced what he is doing is for the greater good. They did well in portraying him being a bit older and more traditional than Corvo and the other Loyalists, which is both good and bad. He has this almost tunnel vision loyalty and dedication to his cause, he likes being in charge and since we are stationed in the Hound's Pits Pub, we are on his territory and it feels like it. No matter how much he praises you, you know he is not gonna let you or any of the others challenge his position. And I like that we do see some of his temperament, like him tossing the Audiograph in the sea might seem like a comical moment until you look back on it and realize he grew frustrated with it one too many times and did something rash. You can also see through his journal how he is slowly growing more frustrated when he realizes you won't let him control Emily and you (I say you as in Corvo) are far too dangerous to be controlled. In the end I think he confused his need for power with his loyalty to the Empire because in his mind him getting this power was the best for the Empire. And in Low Chaos he realizes that he doesn't have the hands on the wheel and he can't go against these waves and kind of surrenders, albeit after he has done a lot of damage. Havelock greets you like a serious, controlled and even warm and welcoming older man, but you learn that beneath that there is a very frustrated and paranoid person who is loyal only in words but is willing to betray everyone to achieve what he thinks is right. There isn't a lot of Havelock meta because he isn't as interesting, but he still played his role quite nicely in the story and you don't always expect characters like him to betray you, especially next to characters like Martin and Pendleton. But, then again a salt and pepper haired war veteran switching sides in the third act is a pretty common trope so eeeh I should've seen that coming. Martin - Martin was my fav when I was 16 and also one of the first times a character I liked died in anything, it was really heartbreaking. I kind of forget he dies these days because I follow like 10 Martin fans, so he is alive and well. I like that he isn't doing the whole "I'll be High Overseer because I have to, it's for the best" (cause they could've gone that route), he straight up reads Campbells gossip book and is like "Hell yeah, I am going to blackmail so many people." Also I like his intro scene because as you approach behind Jasper (the other Overseer), he sees Corvo and becomes somehow 10 times more cocky (I think the line that's something like "It isn't so bad, except I miss your wife" is so raw I've been quoting it all week). But if you play Low Chaos he feels more sidelined, he comments here and there about things here and there that show a bit of his laid back attitude and it's that High Chaos ending that really brings forward most of his personality than just his arc ending in being poisoned at a table (I do not like the Low Chaos ending, like even if they died it's a bit anticlimactic). But there is a lot of good Martin meta out there, from my 10+ Martin lover mutuals, however in general I really like the concept of a priest with a dark past because in the context of him betraying you, it feels like he never truly escaped that dark past, he never really changed, he just got better in convincing people he is a better person, including himself. And the fact that he seems so chill and laid back, yet hides something terrible makes me wonder how much of what he said was honest, and how much was him having a silver tongue and bringing your guard down. Also I don't take criticism but criminal turned priest is extremely sexy and I love that trope.

Treavor Pendleton - (gets a full name from me here), I gotta admit I didn't like him when I was 16 because I expected him to turn out evil, he looked like the "I will backstab you" trope, but now that I am older I kinda like him a lot more and even feel bad for him. I feel like Havelock was crazy and Martin was a shady dude, but Treavor just went along with them because he is both very cowardly and very envious. I know it's not disclosed but I do feel like he wasn't the mastermind behind it? Maybe High Chaos says otherwise, but I haven't played it to know. For someone who was so brutally abused by his older brothers his entire life and yet still found it in him to love and mourn them, he would absolutely go with whatever Havelock and Martin would say, either out of wanting to be part of something or out of some kind of deep seated fear of not playing along. This doesn't absolve him of what happened at all, but it is An Explanation, and paired with his excessive drinking, it does make me feel bad about him. He is also an asshole in funny ways like the whole situation with his Audiographs and also Lord Shaw and he is sort of an unintentionally (or maybe intentionally) funny character. I found that he is relieving the more tense feeling you get from Havelock and Martin with his presence which I enjoy more than I did when I was younger. Also he has a lot of typical aristocrat asshole things going on, which is funny mostly, sometimes a little infuriating.

I would like to talk about the rest of the Loyalists too (because Callista, Lydia, Cecelia, Piero and Wallace are also Loyalists even if not the main ones), but you asked for these three and it's getting late. Perhaps I will because I actually love the ladies and they don't get nearly as much love as the male characters in this game.

[ziracona]

Been a bit because Life has been very full of more un-avoidable work for me of late, but here’s another installment.  [Fate/GO AU – The Kid (pt: 1, … 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, ?)] {Some spoilers for original G/O run/through Temple of Time}

Owwww. Shit.

Head. Killing me. Again. What was-?

“Billy! Billy, come on!”

Huh?

I try to focus on the voice. Someone…calling me. I know the… voice.

Robin?

I drag my eyes open, and it is him, hand on my shoulder, shaking me.

“Ow,” I manage.

“I know, I know,” says Robin in relief, grabbing my hands and dragging me up, “but we gotta go!”

“Everyone still alive?” comes Emiya’s voice in my head.

“Yeah,” I reply at the same time Robin says, “Yep,” and a moment later I hear an, “I am,” from King David, and a pained, “Yes,” from Salieri.

“Lancer? Mozart?” I call, turning to look for them, Robin doing the same.

“Ow. Shit—yeah, yeah. I’m alive,” comes the voice I’ve only heard a few times, but know is our lancer. I see him dragging himself out of a hole in the cave wall and using the edge of it to force his shoulder back into socket.

“I think so,” comes Mozart’s voice, and I see him staggering up a little to my left, looking worse for the wear, but better than the first time I saw him.

“Good. Robin, wait sixty seconds and then set off the bomb you left in security. Billy, take Ritsuka. I’ve got something I have to do,” says Emiya.

“Like hell,” says the Lancer, “Alone in this shithole? Who do you think you are!”

“You’re no good with technology,” Emiya cuts him off bluntly, “You can’t help.”

“Tch—oh and you’re such a talent?” replies the Lancer.

“What are you going to do?” I call while running towards Emiya and trying to get a read on what just happened. Everyone got knocked back, and the summoned beings that were left seem to have disappeared, but I don’t think all the soldiers are dead. There’s chunks of roof fallen on some, and some hit the walls too hard, but mostly everyone still alive when the blast hit all just got knocked around. Was that the vault? Did the vault blow? I wish I had time to check, just to be sure. It must be though, right? What else could have caused something like that?

“Prevent any outgoing messages, and then destroy things,” replies Emiya.

“Yeah, like you need to know technology to do the second half of that,” snarks the Lancer, moving to meet up with us too. I see the others all doing the same from their various landing spots—mostly unharmed, thank God. Whew! We really made it out of a close one! Dumbass don’t think that till we’re actually clear, I chide myself with a grimace. Still.

“Fine, come then, but if you pass out again, I’m done carrying you,” sighs Emiya in annoyance.

We reach the cables again. One of them snapped, and another was ripped up too much by the debris, but it looks like the last two are still functioning. Mostly.

“Ritsuka,” I say in surprise as I get close and realize that while Emiya is carrying her, and I expected the blast to have knocked her out, she’s awake. I speed up and skid to a stop by them, “You okay?”

“I’m alright,” she says shakily, “You guys?”

There are various forms of assent. She don’t look too okay though, and I can’t imagine how she could be.

“Come on,” I say, offering her my hand as Emiya sets her down, “Let’s get the hell outta this place.”

She takes my hand but sends Emiya a worried look as he lets go.

“Don’t worry,” promises Emiya, “I’ll take care of it.”

“Okay,” she says, trying to smile, and I go to pick her up, then grimace at the cables. This sucks. I can climb that, but I ain’t gonna go so fast as I want, goin’ hand over hand.

“You okay hanging onto my back?” I ask, considering, and she nods, so I kneel down and help her climb on.

“We’ll wait for you two on the next roof, I guess,” says Robin, glancing at the Lancer and Emiya. He gets a nod back, and I take off, leaping to the nearer cable and then springing from it to higher up the second. It’s not a solid, stationary object, so it’s a little difficult, but it’s a lot faster than straight up climbing, even if it’s awkward going.

I hear Ritsuka choke on a cry, and her grip around my waist tightens the second time I jump. “Don’t worry,” I promise, “If you let go, I’ll catch you. You ain’t gonna fall.”

Her grip eases just a little, and I feel her nod against my back.

“You sure you’re okay?” I ask her quieter as I speed up the cables.

“I-I don’t know,” she whispers. I think she’s choked up.

“Don’t worry,” I try, “Emiya’s got a plan—we’ll keep your folks safe.” She sniffs and I feel her nod again, but she doesn’t say anything. I feel guilty, and bad for her. We were supposed to protect her from shit like this.

… “Hey Emiya,” I say mentally to him and him only as we go, “Did she say somethin’ to you, right before whatever she was gonna do with her seal?”

“You could tell?” he replies.

No? “Not exactly,” I go with, “Just figured that’s what she’d do.”

“Well you’re right,” says Emiya, almost fondly, a tone of voice I haven’t heard him really use before, “She asked me what to do. I told her what I thought would happen depending on what she did, and instead of doing any of them, she said, ‘I’m going to order you to pretend to commit suicide, but it’ll look like I told you to do it for real. It’ll buy us time where he thinks I gave up, and you can try to stop him from signaling them to hurt my parents.’” He pauses for a moment, and when he keeps going, if anything, the tone is stronger. “I had no idea what I was going to do, but I couldn’t exactly do anything but try, faced with a master willing to do that.”

Yeah, that sounds about like her. I smile.

“Thanks for lookin’ out for us,” I say out loud to Ritsuka. I feel her lift her head a little.

“Really? I feel like I did a terrible job.”

“You kidding?” I say, “We’re all still alive. And you didn’t leave us. Even when we wouldn’ta blamed ya.”

There’s a pause, and then I hear a smile in her voice. “Thanks Billy.”

“Your parents’ll be okay,” I say again, “Promise. We’ll look out for them.”

I’m almost close enough to the top to jump and reach it, when the cable I’m holding onto snaps.

“Shit!” I yelp, freefalling backwards a second as the horrible sound of a steel cable going slack whips past me, hearing Ritsuka scream with it, but before I can twist and make a bid for the one remaining cable, a hand catches me around the wrist, and I jerk to a stop, looking up in surprise at Robin.

He gives me a vaguely shaky smile and says, “Good thing my reflexes are holding up.”

“Yeah,” I answer, grinning as he pulls me up to the cable.

We’re all on one cable now though. I can see the line of us below, and hear it groaning under our weight, which means it must have been damaged too. That’s not good.

“That isn’t good,” says Robin, glancing up with me and Ritsuka as one, “You don’t suppose it’s gonna-”

The last cable snaps and I hear everyone including me scream.

“Shit!” comes Emiya’s voice, more angry than anything, and I see a chain with a weight on the end rocket past me and embed itself through the roof of the room above. Acting on instinct, I snag it with one hand, praying Ritsuka has a good grip, and catch Robin with my left hand, and it’s his turn to look up at me in surprise as I grin down.

“Is that-?” I hear the Lancer ask almost like he’s going to laugh somewhere below me.

“—Don’t you say a word,” hisses Emiya like he’s about at the end of his rope.

No idea what that’s about. “Everyone okay?” I call, looking down. I can see Emiya just below us, doing fine, the Lancer right past him, and below them, Mozart pulling Salieri back up to the chain like I did Robin. As soon as he’s not holding his companion, he gives me a thumbs-up. At the very back, I can see King David too, looking back below us at the scene we’ve left behind, but alright.

“Hang on,” calls Emiya mentally, and another thick chain with a weighted point appears and flings itself into the ceiling too, giving us alternates to jump from to pick up speed.

“Thanks!” I call back, then turn my attention to Ritsuka—Probably not a fun last eight seconds for her. “Still okay?”

“Uhm,” she answers, voice small, “My life just flashed before my eyes a bunch of times, but other than that yes.”

“Hang in there, partner,” I say with a grin, trying to get her to smile back, “Almost out.”

She gives me a weak but real smile, and nods, and I take off again.

It’s a simple climb—with handholds and footholds easy in a chain that size, it’s much faster than the cables. Wonder why he didn’t want to use it? Guess it doesn’t matter. Either way, I make it to the top in record time, hopping to the safety of the floor above, ready to fight, but there are no waiting guards this time. I even stick my head out into the hall, and nothing.

“Coast seems clear,” I call back to the others as Robin and Emiya make it inside, the Lancer right behind.

“Good,” says Emiya, “Get out, fast. Lancer?”

“Lead the way,” says the Lancer, a smile that is hungry for blood playing on his lips. This guy, whoever he is, musta been some helluva warrior. Something more than the usual spearman. I don’t have a real guess who he might be, not a short list anyway, but that don’t mean he seems bad to me. Just like someone who loves fighting. And is probably incredible at it.

“The rest of you, get moving,” says Emiya, and Robin nods and moves into position at the head. Good, I think as I step into the hall behind him, Can’t wait to get the hell out of this place for good.

“Let us know when you’re clear. We won’t be long,” says Emiya, summoning his shortswords and turning his gaze upwards. Behind him, a claymore appears and aims at the ceiling. “We’re taking the direct route.”

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

 We turn a corner at speed. My bomb took out the main security station, but it did shit to the automated alarms, and they’re blaring like a tsunami warning’s in effect. Lights flash, sound slams into you at every step, yet the place is a ghost town. Guess the evacuated about everyone who wasn’t in the vault trying to kill us.

“Almost there!” I call back to Billy and Ritsuka behind me, and the other three behind h-

“David?”

SHIT.

“David?!” He’s not there. How fucking long has been gone? What the hell happened? “David!”

The others turn to look too, equal amounts of shock on their faces, and a little blame I think from all of us towards Mozart at the back who really should have noticed. He looks even more surprised than me though. How fucking quiet is the guy?!

“David?” says Ritsuka out loud, but I also hear her in my head—I think in the excitement, or maybe I should say, trauma, just now, she’s forgotten not to do both, “Where are you? Are you okay?”

Of course that’s where your head went. If I wasn’t so stressed, I’d smile.

“Sorry!” comes his voice in our heads, “I forgot something—I’ll meet you out there! I promise I would explain, if I had time, but I’m on a bit of a schedule!”

The hell?

“Where did you go?” asks Ritsuka, just in my head this time. She sounds so worried, poor kid.

“Back—I promise, I’ll hurry.” There’s hesitation, or maybe reservation, in his voice when he speaks, and I think maybe he’s misinterpreted that, and thinks she’s about to call him back. I barely know this kid, but uh, I’m pretty sure that’s not what’s about to happen, unless he goes under heavy fire and needs it.

“But will you be okay?” she asks.

“Yes,” he promises, the tone from just now vanished, “It’s important—I’m sorry—I’ll meet you outside!”

Ritsuka looks at Billy and me, then the other two, and all four of us trade glances. Uh.

“Will he be okay alone? Or—should we wait?” she asks nervously.

Well? “He sounded like he had it,” I propound, both because he did, and because I saw him fight a moment ago. He’s not stupid, and he’s not weak. No idea the hell he’s doing.

“Yeah, I-I’d trust him,” Billy decides, and Salieri and Mozart don’t seem to have a problem with that.

“We should keep going,” I add, deciding, “He knows where we’re headed, and there’s hundreds of ways out of a building. It’ll be easier to meet up in the clear, and safer, than to wait around in one specific hall in this place. We’re close enough either way one of us could go back, and you can always just yank him out right to us with a command spell if he calls for help.”

“Oh,” she says like such a thing has never occurred to her, but then almost excited, and quite relieved, at the thought, “Right!” She gives me a smile with more pluck than I’d expect so soon after the shit she just went through. “Okay.”

I nod and start moving again, the others falling into pace behind us.

“What would he go back for, though?” asks Mozart after a moment with interest.

I don’t know. But I guess we’ll find out.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Billy’s expression change. “Oh, shit-“

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

  Ow. Oh, shit, my ribs…My…. I-I’m actually not sure. But. Something. In my. …torso… Shit. What did I do to myself?

Sore and weak, I open my eyes and blink, trying to focus. “Ow,” I say to myself quietly out loud, for the comfort of it. Mostly when I ask myself what happened, where I am, what’s going on, the only thing I seem to have the processing power to get back as a response is ‘ow’. That’s not good.

“B'ní?”

“AHHhh!” I jerk up and away from the sound, breathing fast, and pain shoots up my torso as I fall back on my elbows, staring in shock at-

“Easy,” says David, holding his hands up and beaming at me, “You’re fine! Only me.”

“Wh—” I gape at him and the room, turning quick and trying to steady my breathing. David? –Room—hotel? Hotel. Never seen before. Still in Osaka? Maybe. H-shit-how long have I been out? What did-?

Oh no.

Ooooooh help.

“Are you alright?” asks my…father, again, with some actual concern this time. He leans forward on the seat he’s on by the bed, and cocks his head at me, appraising. “I…had thought you would feel alright now,” he offers, giving me a more sincere and smaller smile, gesturing a little with a hand, “Maybe a few bruises left, some scrapes. But your wounds are healed. –You do remember?”

Remember?

Fire, people, the way a gun barrel tastes, the astra, pain, David. It’s like a blur, coming at me with such speed when I look, but yes, I remember it.

“…Yes,” I manage, looking around again. At least my ears seem recovered. My leg? Remembering, I tentatively move it under the blankets. My knee is sore, but beyond that, I can barely tell there was ever an injury there at all. And my stomach?

I sit up a little, grimacing, not at pain—which I expected—but with how much physical effort it takes me to do something so simple.

“Easy,” says my father again, and I feel his hand settle on my shoulder and glance over. He’s giving me a reassuring smile. “Your body has been through quite a lot. Don’t push yourself to so much so fast.”

I feel like this is a reprimand he somehow already knows goes deeper than this instance. But, maybe I’m wrong. I hope I’m wrong.

“Right,” I tell him for the moment, moving up to a sitting position more slowly, using the cushions behind me for support. When I feel for the likely fatal wound that was there last time I was awake, I don’t even feel a scar. Just a very slight soreness, like in my knee. Like I strained the muscle a bit lifting something.

“Alright?” checks David.

“Yes,” I say, relieved myself—I-I knew he’d healed me, of course, but I was sort of expecting more of a patched job than a miracle, the way I felt when I passed out. “Thank you,” I add, realizing I haven’t said that. It doesn’t come out right, because I wasn’t really thinking about it, and I want to say it again as soon as I have—say it with the right amount of meaning, because it…He. Saved me. I want to express that. But, I’m, I’m not really sure how to, without making this even more awkward.

“Of course,” says David, less jovial and more intimate than most of the manner I saw from him yesterday, softer, “My job to look out for you.”

That makes me feel worse.

“Are you still feeling poorly?” he asks, seeing that.

“No. I’m just. Uh. Overwhelmed,” I answer. Try to give him a smile.

Honestly, I don’t feel fantastic. I’m incredibly unharmed, but I’m so strung out and exhausted I feel like I could throw up, or just topple over. Gotta. Push through that, I tell myself, resigned.

“So,” says David, relaxing back in his chair and eyeing me, “Suppose now you tell me what you’re doing here.”

Feeling very cornered, I give him a look that reflects that.

He tilts his head. “Solomon,”

It’s still so strange to hear that. It can’t have been that long, really. I have had precious little time as Romani Archaman, and none of it where I was allowed to forget the rest. But still, it feels like another lifetime since…

Well, I suppose technically, it was.

“You said you would tell me,” reminds my father, eyeing me, “Look, I was perfectly contented to let you do whatever you were doing originally, but you almost got killed last night, so clearly it is not all in your control. Not to mention, you’re human now, and I can’t even fathom how that one happened. Let alone why. You said it was bad. Very bad.”

Shit, why did I tell him that?

Because you were dying and scared and he’s your father, I think unhappily.

“I don’t know what to tell you,” I offer after a few long seconds. I know I have to make a decision here very fast, but. Right now...

“Tell me all of it,” pushes David, leaning forward again, more intent now. Crap, being cagey made him pay more attention.

Has it been so long I’ve forgotten how he’d be?

This is a moment, I know, I won’t get to take back. If I lie, or tell him only a little, maybe later I can change that. Tell him more. There might be time, and he might still be with me later, or it might all be too late then, and the moment will be gone forever. If I tell him now, though, there definitely just won’t be any going back. I won’t be able to undo what happens.

I glance at him. He’s watching me too. I try and determine the look there. Interest, concern, suspicion, duty? Like that could give me an answer.

I think he sees something in that himself. Maybe he was doing the same thing—looking for my reasons.

“We do change,” says David casually, like it’s a thought unrelated to anything, smiling and relaxing a little, but staying close, “People say we don’t, because we’re already dead, heroic spirits, but it isn’t true. Some of us change more after being inscribed on the throne than we did on the earth. But you know that.” He meets my eyes and gives me a different smile again, one that’s almost…sad. Understanding. “And then of course, there are some things that never do, B'ní,” he adds more informally. Smile lighter.

Oh, I think, recognizing what I was looking for in his motivation now, it’s fear.

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

“The hell is that,” says Robin.

I turn to look too, relieved David made it back to us no matter what he went back for. I was starting to get worried. Oh.

“Clearly, Doctor Archaman,” says David, glancing down at the unconscious, bloodied body in his arms as he lands easily on the roof a few paces off.

“I-Is he dead?” I ask, feeling chilled by the sight. His whole white lab coat is just soaked with blood, down the front and back, and I can’t see his face, the way David’s holding him.

“No, no,” assures David with a smile, “Just out. Very exhausted.”

“Figured that was it,” says Billy proudly, “He really gonna be okay, though?”

Yeah, that’s what I’m wondering. He looks terrible.

“Wait, so, did he not lead us into that trap?” asks Mozart, glancing around.

“No,” says David, vicariously offended, “He blew the vault.”

“Really?” says Mozart, “I thought that was you.”

“Pff, I would I’d had that time,” says David, “But no.”

Oh. Shoot—I wondered—I figured Billy was right, but I thought it was just because he helped us before. It hadn’t occurred to me that he might have betrayed us or blown the vault.

“Is he okay?” I ask again, because David still hasn’t answered.

“Oh yes,” says David reassuringly, joining us, “He was in a very bad way before, but I’ve stabilized him. I think he’s got a broken hand still, but I can fix that too as soon as we’re somewhere safe.”

Ouch, I think, shuddering imagining that. I…can, for the first time in my life. Really viscerally. I can still play out the way my brain was telling me getting my eyes ripped out was about to feel. G-get it together, I tell myself, trying to force the shivers to quit, You’re okay. You didn’t get hurt.

Not really, anyway. Bruises, but that’s nothing new. I’m okay. It didn’t happen.

And…And Emiya can protect Mom and Dad, I tell myself, trying so hard to believe it, and looking at my shoes. …He can.

I feel a hand on my shoulder, and glance up to see Billy giving me a concerned look. “Holdin up?”

“Yeah,” I manage, “Just uhm. Worried.”

“The other two should be back soon, judging by the explosions I can hear,” says Robin, glancing from the tower back towards me, “Don’t worry. We’ll get the rest of this all figured out.”

I try to smile.

“Hey guys?” I call mentally to Emiya and the lancer, “Is everything going okay?”

Shoot. I still haven’t asked the lancer’s name. Nice going.

“On our way out now,” comes Emiya’s voice in my head.

Thank goodness. “Lancer?” I check.

“Up and kicking!” he calls back, way too enthusiastic. Does he not feel fear at all? I wish I could do that…

“We took care of things on our end and bought some time. We’ll be there momentarily,” adds Emiya.

I feel a lot of relief, looking back towards Ur-Shanabi from the rooftop beside it. It’s a taller building even than the skyscraper we’re on, and I can see places the Gashudokuro tore through the side of the building earlier. Gods, I am so relieved that my friends were able to stop them from knocking the place down. I-I can only image what that would have done to the city.

It’s odd. There’s smoke coming from the top of the building now, but there’s also smoke—a lot more of it—just pouring from beneath the foundation. It’s like the entire cement base is a bunch of dry ice that’s been thrown in a pool. I guess the fire in the vault is still burning.

And you saved us, I think with wonder, glancing over at the doctor. His eyes are shut, and he looks pale, and hurt. I guess it’s my fault this happened to him, I think, feeling guilt and worry blossom, But. But we did the right thing. So… I…guess that just means now it’s my job to make sure he’s okay too, like the spirits who agreed to trust me. I can do that.

Wait, can I?

Curious, I walk over towards David, and he glances down at me inquisitively.

“Uhm,” I say hesitantly, “Could…I uh.” I gesture vaguely, suddenly too nervous for words to be easy. “I-I thought. Maybe I could heal him too? I-If it would help!”

I feel like an idiot suddenly, offering my less-than-impressive mage ‘skills’, opposite what a heroic spirit like King David can do. Like I have something to add.

To my surprise though, he lights up. “Yes, of course!” He angles himself to let me reach the doctor easier. “Just don’t tax yourself. Anything that can lessen the pain would be greatly appreciated.”

Oh! I have meds back at the hotel too! I can use those when we get back, I think, rebuilding confidence, and I lay my hands on the doctor’s chest and picture myself reaching a hand out to take someone else’s, focus on the damage and undoing it, on the energy I felt before, and I feel a little tug in my gut.

Opening my eyes, I see the doctor shift unconsciously and mutter something, but his face relaxes a little, still wan and sickly, but less tensed than before, and David smiles down at me.

“Thank you, ba’al,” he says, then gets a look on his face like saying that was an accident.

“What does that mean?” I ask tentatively, since this seems like the best chance I might get.

“Oh,” says David, grinning sheepishly, “’Master’, but you said you didn’t want to be called that, didn’t you?”

I nod.

“Hmmm. Chavera?” he suggests, adding, “Friend, or companion?” since he knows I’m going to ask.

“I like it,” I say excitedly. I do. It sounds special.

He beams back at me, “Well thank you, chavera. I’m sure he will be grateful when he awakens too.”

“Oh good, here they come,” says Mozart, letting out a breath, and I turn and see two red and blue outlines heading this way at speed. “We can not leave this place behind too soon.”

I’m still amazed by how fast spirits can move. Emiya and the lancer land almost at the same moment, like it’s easy, hopping from skyscraper to skyscraper—Me? I’m dizzy just being up so high. It’s incredible.

Oh shoot—I still haven’t asked his name, I realize a second after the thought.

“Done,” says the lancer proudly, swinging his spear effortlessly about his fingers, then leaning against it like a staff.

“It should buy us some time,” agrees Emiya, looking slightly annoyed by the lancer’s attitude, “But we should move; fast. This will draw the attention of people nearby too.”

“M-My family?” I ask worriedly.

Emiya had been about to say something, and I didn’t see fast enough and I guess I cut him off on accident, but he doesn’t look mad. He glances at me and his expression gets softer, and he turns to face me more. “I expect they were bluffing earlier—it’s doubtful they knew you were the one who broke McCarty out, or they’d have handled it faster and very differently. Plus we had—”

He seems to clock that David’s holding Dr. Romani Archaman for the first time, and turns and blinks.

“We left him,” says David like whoops thank God I remembered, and as if that’s a complete explanation.

“Sure,” says Emiya, too tired to care, “We need him anyway,” he adds, glancing at the lancer, who sees the look and blinks himself, then gives Emiya a kind of What, oh, so you care about it now? kind of smug raised eyebrow, and Emiya sighs. “That man was probably the one hacking their security from inside,” continues Emiya, turning back to me.

“Really?” I accidentally interrupt again, I’m so amazed. Whoa. And we almost hurt him! I-I’m so glad David talked us out of any of that, and that we decided to bring him!

“Mmmhmm,” says David excitedly from the back of the group, “But let’s keep our mouths shut about that until we’re somewhere safer, yes?”

“So I doubt they had a lot of time to react,” Emiya picks up where he left off, ignoring both comments to be concise, “With people who did know taken out, at least most of them, we’ve got a little breathing room. There might be no one left at all now who knows it was you.”

“What about the people still down by the—” I start worriedly.

“He killed them, I assume,” says the lancer, indicating David with his spear and I turn and gape at David.

Kind of sheepish, he makes a heh sort of sound in his throat and gives me an awkward smile, “Well. You see what they were doing to the doctor here when I arrived—I had little time to react. It was either them, or him, and he was an ally, so.”

“Oh,” I say, feeling guilty, but not as guilty as I probably should, that people are dead, which makes me feel worse for not feeling guilty enough. I-I keep thinking about the way that Toujou looked at me when he said to take my eyes out, o-or to force Emiya to commit suicide, or…or that he’d…my mom and dad, a-and Akira…

“It’s possible someone still knows,” continues Emiya with an exhale, “Or that it’ll be put together—we’ll keep an eye out. But I think it’s doubtful he had time to place people by your family ahead of time, and at the very least, no order will have gone out. You can take the others somewhere safe, and I’ll go check, if you can direct me to where they live.”

“W-Really?” I ask, feeling like crying with relief.

“Yes,” he says, almost smiling back for a moment, voice softer, “But we need to be quick.”

“R-Right—I’ll send you the address, and you can ask if you get lost,” I say, “Thank you!”

He gives a nod.

“I can go too,” says the lancer, cracking his neck.

“Like hell,” says Emiya, giving him a disbelieving look, “You’ve got what—eleven hours until you’re a corpse? You need to get your spirit core fixed, or you’re dead.”

“You can’t fix a damaged spirit core,” says the lancer like this should be obvious, lowering his arms and glancing back, “May as well die fighting as many as possible.”

“No—we can! I-I think,” I say quickly, and he turns to me in surprise, “Th-the doctor there, he said he knows how,” I hurry, gesturing.

“Oh, he does,” agrees David with great assurance.

The lancer doesn’t seem entirely convinced.

“Besides, you’re not exactly the sneakiest person in this group. If we’re going to try not to be noticed, any of the Archers is a better bet, and Robin would be even more effective than I am,” says Emiya with a tinge of annoyance.

“I’ll go too then,” exhales Robin, resigned, “Come on, Archer.” He moves towards the edge of the roof.

“A-Are you two sure?” I ask, and both glance over at me and nod, “Thank you, then. You have no idea how much,” I say, meaning it painfully.

Robin smiles at me, and Emiya gives a nod.

“Thank you,” says Emiya, “I’ve had my fair share of suicides by command spell. I valued not adding another tonight.” And he turns to go and leaps off the building, vanishing into the night, Robin giving Billy a two-fingered solute and flipping up his hood and vanishing into nothing as he does the same, leaving me stuck on what Emiya just said. On how horrible that is.

God. I know we’re awful to heroic spirits—m-mages I mean. But how do they stand any of us at all, even long enough to do a job? That’s…that’s awful.

Maybe. Maybe it was situations like I was in, tonight. But…a part of my is saying I already know the answer, and that none of them were.

I feel eyes on me, and glance up to see basically everyone is looking. Mozart isn’t—he’s looking at Salieri, but, everybody else is. Waiting, I realize, since I’m supposed to be in charge.

“Oh,” I say as I turn and register the lancer again, “I haven’t asked your name yet. I’m sorry.”

“Eh,” he grins, and there’s some blood on his teeth. He’s so torn up, but he doesn’t seem bothered even a little, “Hardly time, between all that bloodshed.” He takes a knee to be on my level. “It’s Cu Chulainn, of Ulster,” adds Cu Chulainn, offering me a hand and holding his grin.

I hear a noise I’m not sure what it is from Billy, and see his face is lit up, so, maybe they’re friends or something? No, but he didn’t recognize him. I guess maybe he’s just someone really cool. He sure was, tonight! I’ve never seen someone fight so crazy.

“Thanks,” I say, taking the hang and shaking it and smiling back, “I guess you know who I am, but uhm—officially, now; I’m Ritsuka Fujimaru. It’s very nice to meet you. And…thank you,” I add, meaning it so much, “For saving my life.”

“Hey, any time,” says Cu Chulainn, giving my hand a good shake and then letting go.

“Now that we’ve got things settled, it would be good to start moving,” observes Salieri, who has moved to the edge of the building and is glancing down. Now that I’m listening harder, I can hear sirens over the sounds of the building.

“R-Right,” I say with a nod, “And we gotta take care of you two,” I add to Cu Chulainn and the unconscious Doctor, “Let’s go.”

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

 “ALL seventy-two?!”

“I know,” I moan, decaying into a little ball with my head in my hands, “Goetia.”

“Heaven,” says my father, staring past the far wall at nothing when I sneak a look.

“I didn’t think it would happen—I didn’t know,” I mourn, trying to defend myself, I guess. I don’t…know I hate the right. It. It isn’t fair, though. I didn’t know, and it was cruel. People have often called the Holy Grail a monkey’s paw, and I can attest to the truth of that. I wished for peace and one last life, and instead it threw me into a very, very short last life, that cost me and the world everything, in which I will never know peace.

“When did this happen?” asks David, looking back at me.

I groan and lower my hands, leaning against the pillows and sitting up a little. “Immediately. I knew it the moment I woke up. As…this.” I hold out my hands and look at them. Beautiful, in their own right, even if they’re not exactly my body—not my first one. It’s a shame I’ll never really get to use them. “But,” I add, looking back at my father, “by then it was…too late.”

“And you have been working since, to be able to stop it,” sums up David, “When it inevitably happens.”

I give an exhausted nod.

I... I haven’t told. …well, anyone. Not a soul, since this all began years ago. I wish it felt freeing to do it now, and a part of it did, when I was going, but. Now I’m just…terrified he’s going to judge me for it. I guess he is still my father, isn’t he. And even now, a part of me larger than I expected does not want to have so greatly disappointed him.

“So.” He exhales. Thinks for a few seconds, then shifts his weight and works through it. “You won a grail war, and wished to get one final life as a human again, then go on to Abraham’s Bosom instead of being returned to the throne. You got your wish, but doing so removed your seals on the 72 demons you’d kept in order, for some reason, and now they’re going to destroy the entire history of the world if not stopped, but you don’t have any power, or anyone to believe you, and it’s too late to undo what was done. So you’re working at this Chaldea place, because you think it will withstand the initial blast, and the time…travel?” Close enough. “device thing—Sheba, after your queen. You think that you can use that to fix things, if worst comes to worst.”

“’Think’ is a little optimistic,” I reply with a sigh, “At this point, I’m white knuckling every second of my life, and praying for the best.”

He thinks. “…Why were you at Ur-Shanabi then?”

I feel my face heat up and my heart sink at the same time. I could lie. That would be even worse, though. Than admitting it.

“We were offered a buy-in, my company. I was disgusted, of course. But. I. I-I heard you were in their lineup, and I thought…”

My father watches me for a few seconds. I wish he didn’t look so kind about it—it makes me miserable.

“I’m sorry,” I say, looking away. Especially after today. I… “I was going to leave. I had failed; I couldn’t find a way to get you out without completely cutting me off from Chaldea, and…I-I…” I make myself look at him, miserable. “I would have gone back. If there had been a way—if…I was still alive after, or managed to avert it.” But I know I wouldn’t have been. I gave up. It was him, or the world, and I was out the door picking the world.

For a moment, he’s quiet. Then he shifts in his seat again, crossing his legs the other way. “Well. You are a king.”

When I look up, he’s watching me.

“It is different, for people like the girl who saved me, than for us. Our responsibilities are different. We have to look out for our followers—we have a responsibility to the world. Even above our own, sometimes. Because of what we are.” He smiles then. “I am flattered you risked as much as you did, trying to save me. You did not owe me more than that.”

I swallow, and glance down at my legs to not be meeting his gaze. What’s hardest is I think he really means it. He’s always had…such faith, even after. In ways I sometimes don’t. Funny I am finding more to admire in him now in death, than I have in a long time.

“I’m still sorry,” I say, but I accept his answer. Sorry this time, not for my decision, but for the circumstances. For the fact I couldn’t find a way to do both. He accepts that back, with a nod.

“So you can’t go back,” he says, more statement than question.

“I can’t,” I agree tiredly, which isn’t entirely true, but the caveat is really an eleventh-hour trick at best and cannot be used for anything else, so it’s not worth bringing up, “I’m stuck like this, and what’s worse, it really gave me a body stripped of magical circuits,” I add glumly, “I mean, I’m a living human—I have some, but. It really said ‘and fuck the idea of you being able to do useful magecraft to stop all this.’”

For a few seconds longer than I expect, he’s quiet, and I don’t know why. He seems lost in thought.

“…And you really wanted this?” he asks me then.

Oh. “I did,” I say, trying to figure out how to explain it to him. To most heroic spirits, it would be easy, but I know David is different. “I know…you’re at peace with this,” I try, stumbling over myself awkwardly and gesturing in the hope that will help me make sense somehow, “being on the Throne, maybe forever, the summonings, the way mages treat us, the things we’re forced to do. The losing our memories, and the dying, and the killing, a-and…I just. I couldn’t. I know…you think it’s God’s will, being trapped here like this, and you’re ready to do whatever he gives you, but I just don’t believe that—I couldn’t believe that anymore. It’s been so long. I am not at peace with this; I never have been. And I wanted to go home, like we were promised. We are separated from our father, and it has been so long. It has been so long since I have seen my family, too, and I miss them; I just wanted to see them again—to finally be with them a-“

I stop, because I am realizing suddenly of course he wouldn’t have been there. It would have been most of my family, but not him, and I feel my heart lurch, looking at his face mid-sentence.

“I-I,” I try to recover, “—Abba, I know—you—I didn’t. I know you’re here, but Abba, this is the first time in three-thousand years we have seen each other. I didn’t think there ever would be a first time at all, after so long, and I just—”

He holds up a hand. “I understand.” David pauses just a second, considering, then gestures carelessly like it’s nothing at all. “And you are right. For me, it is different. I am at peace. I know I am exactly where God wants me. I mean, look.” He gestures and smiles. “This has turned out perfectly, hasn’t it? –The providence, not the Throne’s actions,” he adds, “But you and me, we are here right when we need to be. And I cannot expect you to have the exact same path,” he adds, straightening up like he might stand in a minute, “If you are not at peace here, it is not where God wants you to be, and we are meant to head in separate directions. There is a reason for where we have ended up, and where we are going.”

You’re not angry? Or…disappointed?

“You are not acting against what He wants you to do. You were given a drive to move on,” shrugs my father, “Weren’t you?”

“I…suppose so,” I say slowly, smiling at him, thankful.

He smiles back, almost smug. Ah, there’s the father I know.

“Good then. We’re both on the right track, and this is quite a mess you’ve fallen into, so we’re going to need it,” he says, all the seriousness of moments before gone, clapping me on the shoulder.

“Ow,” I say, “Please. I’m still a little banded up, and I’m not carrying Servant tankiness anymore.”

“Right,” he says, not losing a beat or a watt in his grin, “So. Moving forward.” He clicks his tongue and considers, then gestures at me. “There is…no kind way to say this, but, your plan is terrible, B'ní, like, it is ridiculously bad. That is just how it is.”

“Come on,” I say, a little cheered up in spite of myself by his almost playful attitude, “I’m doing my absolute best.”

“Mmm,” he says, unappeased, “If you were, your foolish ass would have summoned me the day after this happened.”

“With what??” I ask genuinely, “And what power source.”

“You work on top of a generator, and new body or not, you’re my son,” he says like I’m the stupidest person in the galaxy, which, when he puts it that way… “With you as a catalyst, idiot! Who do you think would have come out of a summoning circle you made looking for help—Jeroboam??”

“T—b—it—I….” I stutter out pathetically, “I-I don’t know I could have exactly harnessed the Chaldea power grid to support you unnoticed.

“Mmm, but you did not even think to try, did you,” he says coldly.

I want to die. “Okay. Alright—that’s…fair, I guess,” I say, sweating buckets.

“I would smack you if you were not in a sick bed,” sighs my father.

Fair enough, I guess, I think, relieved I’m in a sick bed.

“You have a few resources, sort of,” he acknowledges, “And you have been working very hard, but you have no allies. What—you are going to save the world alone?”

I’m taking such a beating today, I think helplessly to the hotel wall opposite me.

“But! We have a great opportunity here,” he continues, “I am here, and I am sure our little Chavera will help us if we ask, and I don’t see a reason the other heroic spirits will not as well.”

“W—You want to ask the child and the other people Ur-Shanabi had?” I ask, taken aback.

“Why not?” says David with a shrug, “She will be affected by the world ending too. And with a Master as understanding and free-reign handing out as that, we’ll have a lot of firepower with the chance to get things done—what’s our timeframe?”

“A-Almost two months,” I manage, “It should happen right around the turn of the year. Probably the first. But it won’t matter—I can’t strike first, because I can’t find them. I need them to act to reveal their location, and for them to reveal their location…”

“…Ah,” says David sympathetically, nodding slowly. “Or,” he continues, not missing a beat, “We find someone who can tell us.”

“Like who?” I ask in confusion, “I’ve already got access to a time observation lens, with Sheba—it is acting up now and again, but. We can’t see what hasn’t happened, only what is supposed to.”

“The real Sheba might know,” suggests David.

“…But we can’t,” I say slowly, heart sinking, “The Queen of Sheba isn’t on the Throne—not properly, anyway. She’d have to want to add herself. She’d have to…” I can’t…imagine asking Makeda to become what I’ve just run away from, to help me. …

“…Well,” says my father, watching my expression with way too much amusement, “We have options. She was not the only powerful seer in history. I am only saying it is a little early to call it. We could certainly find ways to give you as many resources as possible, if worst comes to worst, at the very least.”

That’s true. I consider the offer, and give a nod. “Okay. Yeah, that’s worth trying. But…”

“Mm?” he asks, tilting his head.

I’m trying to think a million miles an hour, my body still feeling like it’s been tossed around inside an empty cement mixer, and it’s not easy. “…I can’t let them know who I am,” I decide, turning my gaze back to him, “Especially the girl. If worst comes to worst, I need the fact I’m still alive and here at all to be a surprise for Goetia. Heroic spirits have varied defenses, mentally, but she’s not got any training. The odds of someone being able to read her thoughts are just too high to risk it, so. I-It needs to stay between you and me, for now.”

I’m kind of afraid he’ll fight me on this, but he just gives a nod. “Agreed. For now at least, that seems prudent. But you’ll have to tell them some of it. And I think at this point it clear we knew each other somehow.”

Right. “You knew my father?” I suggest.

He smirks. “That is almost in painfully poor taste, whenever we tell them the truth, but it is funny.”

“You fought with him in a mage ritual,” I continue, adding detail.

“Yes,” laughs David, getting into this, “I liked him quite a bit, and you look just like him.”

I flush. “Yeah that is a problem, even with a new body.”

“Well,” says David, grinning, “None of them seem to notice how much so far, somehow, so maybe being the only two Israelites they’ve ever met will be useful.”

I smile back. “Frankly, I thought I was dead in the water when we were side by side the first time.”

“We should have been,” he agrees, grin widening, “It’s the green hair,” he suggests, gesturing to his head, “You’re lucky I decided to dye it as a Servant and have a little fun.”

“I guess so,” I laugh back, “You wouldn’t’ think it would be enough though.”

“Eh,” shrugs David, not worried, “If worst comes to worst, we can tell them the truth, and just try to keep Ritsuka far away from prying eyes. It’ll be alright. But, that should work, for now. I can say I wasn’t entirely sure who you were right at first, too. It’s sort of true.”

“You really clocked me on sight?” I ask, figuring it must have been that way, and about ready to accept my complete defeat.

“Of course,” he huffs, “You’re my son. You think a little change in color is going to confuse me, sickly little pink hair?”

“It’s peach,” I argue.

He smiles. Then looks chagrined. “I did not catch you were human though. I thought you were just undercover. I mean—it was clear something was off; your reading was strange. But—I’m sorry; I wouldn’t have left you alone in a firefight that long if I’d realized you were one stray pulled away from a corpse.”

“Well, you came back just in time, so I think we’re good,” I say.

There wasn’t more than that in the words when I was saying them, but there is the moment after. I realize I’m talking about a lot of things we’ve never had the chance to say.

He watches me carefully, reading that.

“…I am sorry,” he says finally, more serious again, “I left things to you. And here you are again, just wanting to live, and without the freedom to do it. It should have given you a life, like you asked for. That was very cruel.”

Yes. It was. I still wake up, haunted by the way that feels, and the weight of the future crushing me in my dreams. It is not fair.

“But don’t worry,” he says, the seriousness gone and replaced by his playful, nonchalant manor again like a curtain dropping, “We will fix this, and you will have plenty of years left for Doctor Romani Archaman to live in. And I’m here, so I will take great pleasure in forcing you to enjoy a little bit of life in the meantime as well.” I start to say something, and he cuts me right off. “Oh are you going to disobey me? To try and stop me, B'ní?” A gleeful challenge.

I sigh and try not to roll my eyes. “I can’t figure out if you’re actually going to be helpful, or make things a lot harder.”

“Well, you’re alive right now because of me,” he points out.

“I wouldn’t have been in danger in the first place if it wasn’t for you, though,” I counter.

He inclines his head. “Look like it may be a bit of both then. In the meantime, though, I believe our little Chavera has one more of us to rescue, and you’ve got a promise to keep.”

A promise? Oh. Right.

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

 “How’re you holding up?”

“Mmm?” I take a second to really hear the question. What—oh. “Just fine,” I lie with a lot of confidence, going for a smile. In reality, I’m dying. I mean, that’s hardly news—I’ve been dying for almost three days now, but, I’m sure as hell getting to the end of it.

Damn it, I think, exhausted as I give the kid looking down at me so worriedly a once-over. All my life, --hah! ‘Life’—all my after-life, such as it is, I’ve had the worst master luck. Only twice I can remember have I gotten a decent one, and both times, I’ve had that rug pulled out from under me about as soon as I was summoned. First one left for dead by someone that took me from her, and now this girl; she’s sweet. Of all the fucking things; a mage girl who’s sweet. Brave too. Just that together is already more than I’d dare to hope for in a Master, and I’m about to die a few hours in. Of all the luck…

“Are you sure?” she asks, not buying it. Damn it, and smart too. Not the whole package—it’s just salt in the wounds at this point. The poor dumb kid is worried about me. I wake up just in time to hear some man threatening to cut her eyes out and torture her family to death, we book out of there and have been back at a semi-safe hotel for what, two hours? I gather the kid’s basically a civilian in all this shit too, and she’s worried about me.

You don’t even know me, kid. We’ve barely had a chance to talk.

God, fate’s cruel.

I could have done a lot with this one. I could have done some actual hero shit for a change, not been an unwilling dog killing anyone who got in the way of whoever was dragging me along. And it might have even been fun. Even been…a good time.

I shift in my seat a little absently, trying to find a more comfortable position to die in, since that’s where we’re headed. I know Archer said they had something they could try, but that man’s full of shit, and some weird pessimistic form of optimist, and I know as well as anyone that unless you’ve got some of the highest level mage craft, far beyond what a command spell could pull, your spirit core gets critical damage? It’s a matter of time. No one can fix it. And mine has a hole through it.

“Well, for a given value,” I shrug off, trying to play it cool, like a joke, and not worry her, since there’s not shit she can do.

Across the room, Billy the Kid glances up from fiddling with his gun and gives me a worried look too. Come on. Now I’m getting pity from other spirits?

It’s genuinely funny, but I can’t say it’s all bad. Kind of nice to die with a smile on your face, even if it’s just from a good laugh.

“Can I do anything to help?” asks Ritsuka, “I know it won’t really help heal you, but I’ve got food, and I put on some water for tea, and that might at least help you feel better. I-I have a few real pain meds left too.”

A what now.

Billy the Kid gets an almost indescribably look on his face, as I accidentally meet his gaze just trying to get a second opinion on what just happened, and he smiles and shrugs at me.

Is this kid serious?

“I appreciate that, but I don’t even know if those would work on something like us,” I tell her for lack of thinking of another answer.

“Oh, they do,” says Billy, trying to keep a straight face, but not to avoid laughing—to avoid something else, but I got no clue what. Staring into the middle distance like your soul left your body, maybe?

Wait. He just—is that—?? So he.

“You’re serious?” I ask I’m not sure which one of them.

Relieved for some reason, Ritsuka perks up. “I’ll go grab some! What do you like to eat?”

Uh. “Meat?” I hazard, mind lagged on the last thing she asked me still.

“Great! I have some—I��ll make you something,” she says like I just handed her a birthday gift, and she vanishes back into the tiny hotel kitchen. I look over at Billy.

“I know,” he says in my head to avoid being overheard, “Right? She’s really somethin’.”

“This is crazy,” I reply, enthusiastically positive about this turn of events.

“Never seen a thing like it,” he agrees in the same tone, “She really wants to help though. Makes her happy.”

Huh. That kind of a person. Damn it—‘sweet’ was an understatement. God, and she’s in the mage community? They’re gonna eat her alive.

“So how are you really?” asks Billy, “I know you’re dyin’—but. How bad?”

I shrug. “Had plenty worse.” That’s true. It sucks, but it’s not so bad. Feels more like bleeding out, or being sick, or dying of exhaustion or something honestly, at this point. Poison maybe. Less like being hacked to bits, which I sure got my fair share of memories of to compare with.

Billy nods.

Least I’m comfortable. Not like we’re exactly usually outfitted with beds or something—we just get sent to spirit form outside combat most of the time. Poor kid was so apologetic there’s just the one bed here, and one in the room they snagged for the doctor guy across the hall. Like these bigass couches aren’t more comfortable than most of the places I slept in life.

Oh I’m bitter, I think at the universe, You throw what I could have had in my face and send me right back to the damn throne, but, still not such a bad way to go.

The kid appears again, holding a tray—so fast, she must have had stuff ready to go already. Ah, a careful preparer too. Probably a decent strategist, considering you got us out, too.

“I-I know it’s not the most exciting, but. I can make a decent curry, and I figured people would probably be hungry enough to want a real meal. A-And there’s beef!” she adds hopefully.

Huh. A nice little tray with a big plate of rice and steaming sauce, meat, potatoes, and onions. A big cup of water and a smaller cup of tea on the sides, and a tiny paper cup with two pills in it.

Well, I don’t see a reason not to.

“Thanks kid,” I perk up, taking the tray from her. Considering my options, I got for downing the pills first, and then starting to wolf down the food, because that gunman said it actually works and I am incredibly curious what that’s like for one of us. God damn! I’d forgotten how delicious food is! I mean, I eat whenever I get the chance; I plain like it too much to be wiling to ignore it just because I’m dead now, but shit—been a while since I had a nice little home cooked meal, seasoned and everything, and by ‘a while’ I mean I literally don’t remember a last time since I became a heroic spirit.

“This is delicious,” I tell her, mouth full of the hot, spicy stuff, and she beams at me.

“Great! I hope it helps! And as soon as the doctor wakes up, we’ll start taking care of you for real,” she adds, and then, to Billy, and Salieri by the far window, “Would you like some?”

The caster passed out when we got here, I don’t know if from exhaustion or for fun, but he’s sprawled cross the bed right now with a big grin, hugging a pillow. Honestly, bad as his trap sounded when we were comparing horror stories like scars for fun on the way back, I’d say he probably earned the cushy spot there. He certainly seems to be thriving. Billy says, “Yeah! If you got enough,” excitedly though, and Salieri glances up and over, but seems to have missed what she said.

“Hungry?” she asks him, catching the zoned out look on his face.

“What?” asks Salieri like the question has failed to translate entirely.

“Would you like some food?” she tries, gesturing towards the plate I’m halfway through inhaling.

He blinks blankly, then his eyes dart over to me, then back to her. “What?”

Huh, so he’s not okay, I observe, taking that in. I guess it figures, Avenger class is grimmer than Berserker, and that’s saying something.

Poor Ritsuka doesn’t look like she knows how to handle this, but credit to her spunk, she keeps trying after only a second of confused hesitation.

“I made food,” she says, working it step by step, “And tea. I thought you might like some.”

He stares through her, somewhere else in his head. “…Why?” he asks in genuine confusion, finally refocusing.

“Uhm. Well,” she tries, “It helps a little with magic—I-I mean, with mana sustainment. But mostly, I just thought it might be nice. We all had a pretty bad night.”

For a few seconds, he just keeps staring at her, then he begins to laugh in a way that makes you a little worried for a guy’s sanity, expression unhinged for a few seconds, then the veneer of composure is back, just…thinner than before. For sure.

Hang in there kid, I think sympathetically at Ritsuka, watching her expression. Glad that’s not me.

“Master,” he says, somewhere between sad and amused, “I am not a person anymore. I abide by my promise to help you, how I can. I am your death to wield. But I am not like the thing you think I am.”

She just stares back herself, brow scrunching up in worry and confusion.

“It would be a mistake, to try and treat me like one,” he continues, almost tired now, or somber or something, “I am not like the rest of them here. That sentiment of yours is well meaning, but it would be dangerous to keep it going forward. I am…dangerous. Even to you. I told you this. I know this is difficult for you, because you met me as Antonio Salieri, in that place, but that is not who I am. I am a fraction of who I was, and I am far too much of things the Throne wanted to exist as a person that never should have been in anyone at all. I am not a real person. You should be careful of that, for your own safety. I would not want to end up bringing you any closer to death, and, too much of me is meant only for that now.”

I glance at the kid. She keeps looking at him, expression surprisingly hard to suss out, and then she glances at her feet for a few seconds, turns, and retreats back to the kitchen without a word. Curious where this is gonna go, I keep an eye on the entryway as I finish devouring my food and try some of the tea, and not to much of my surprise, the kid reappears pretty quick, holding a tray, which she gives to Billy, and a second tray, which she takes with her all the way over to Salieri.

He's stopped paying attention, back to wherever he was before, in his head, looking out the window. But when she gets close, he glances over, and his brow furrows as she sets down the plate of curry and the water and tea on the coffee table right by his knees.

“I know I don’t know what I’m talking about, and I don’t understand most mage stuff really well,” she says slowly, meeting his gaze, “And I know you’re going through a lot of awful stuff because of the throne, that I don’t understand all the way either. I’m sorry, for all of it. It’s awful. But. I do know what people are, and even if you’re not exactly who you were before, you’re definitely still a person, and you’re definitely still Antonio—I remember, in the room,” she adds, and I think he was about to cut her off, but he hesitates then, “When you remembered. When they turned off the switch, and you weren’t under the spell anymore. You looked so different all of a sudden, and I was scared.”

His expression goes very still, and he keeps his eyes on her.

“Because it was so different,” she continues, looking apologetic, “It felt different. Like you weren’t the same person. Only, almost as fast as I got scared, I realized you hadn’t really changed at all. There was just something on top of it now. I know I’m right,” she adds with great assurance, “I promise. So please.”

She gestures to the plate, and he looks at it, then back up at her, silent.

“And please don’t call me ‘Master’,” she adds anxiously, “I-I’m just Ritsuka. I want to be, just Ritsuka.”

For a few seconds, he’s entirely motionless and silent, and I sense Billy watching this about as intently as I am. Curious what he’ll do.

After a moment, he looks down a little, and there’s something like concession in the expression on his face. “…I am truly dangerous,” he says finally, looking back up. It seems like an odds answer to all that, but I kinda get the feeling it’s because he likes her, and he’s that worried he’s going to do something he doesn’t mean to.

Huh. Wonder how many times he’s been summoned before? Could be his first, for all I know. I guess, being twisted into something you’re not, forcibly, by some fuck that thought it would be fun to rip up and control your head, even if you’re still in there, even if you’re usually in control? Some kind of hell. And I realize suddenly to a like, fucking unsettling degree that I relate to it. Like…Like I know how it feels.

What the fuck? Has that happened to me?

Fuck! I hate this memory bullshit! It’s bad enough, the raw deal we get, but I am sick to death of not even keeping my memories! If the Throne or some shit out there mindfucked me into some other form like this poor guy’s dealing with, I’d love to know about it so I could kill them if I ever get the chance! It is truly unsettling how much my brain is going ‘Oh yeah—I get that’ right now—I do not like it.

Well. Time to repress that shit, ‘cause what else am I gonna do with it?

“I know,” says Ritsuka, which surprises me a little. She doesn’t seem worried though, “I don’t care. I trust you. And I like you, too.” She smiles at him then, and I think he considers arguing again, but he gives up and exhales and shakes his head, but he’s almost smiling for a second too.

“Well,” he says. Not a very precise answer, but his tone is admitting defeat.

Ritsuka lights up. “Thanks, Salieri. I hope you like it.”

She turns to go then, and I try to watch to see if he’s actually gonna eat it, without looking like I’m looking. For like forty straight seconds, he just stares at it. Like this is a huge conundrum. Then slowly, he picks up the spoon she left him, slides it in for like a fourth of a normal bite, brings it up slow, and tries it.

It’s pretty damn clear his head is somewhere else, but he seems surprised by the taste, and after hesitating, he takes a more normal spoonful, and starts to very very slowly eat the dish.

Well I’ll be, I think, watching that out of the corner of my eye, Kid’s persuasive too. God damn it, one more reason to be extremely bitter about this roll of the dice for me. So fuckin unfair. What, I have to die and Archer gets to stick around with a really cool master AGAIN?? When do I get one—where’s the justice in that? Fucker—makes me mad just thinking about it.

“This is great, by the way,” says Billy enthusiastically as Ritsuka rejoins us with her own plate and sits down on the floor, “Uh—you want the chair though?” he asks, which, it’s not like there aren’t still a few chairs left already.

“No, I actually like the floor,” says Ritsuka, taking a bite, and looking very happy, “And thanks! I’m really glad. My mom and dad’s recipe.”

And a weirdo. Man, the whole package. God damn it!

“It really is,” I agree. Been so long since I had shit like this, and I’m thriving off it.

She flushes and smiles down into her curry, suddenly to embarrassed to make eye contact. “I’m really glad.”

“…Thank you,” comes Salieri’s voice from the end of the room, and she looks up in surprise. He’s not looking at her, but she doesn’t seem to care. “For the meal,” he adds quietly, eyes on nothing.

“You’re very welcome,” she says, looking so happy it’s cute. We all chow down in companionable silence for a minute, then Ritsuka glances over at Mozart, and looks from Billy, to me, “Uh. Should I let him sleep? Or do you think he’d be hunry?”

“Ah, he’ll eat whenever he gets up. He looks way too out to want anymore more’n it,” says Billy, and I have to agree. The guy looks like he is giddy with the fact he gets to be asleep on a bed right now. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen someone asleep looking more pleased, so I give a nod, and she nods back.

I wonder why she didn’t ask Salieri somewhere in the back of my mind, and I see him glance up and over at Mozart, and something truly bizarre happens with his expression. He looks almost fond for a second, and for the exact same second, like there’s a second expression over the first, like someone wearing a transparent mask, I see a deep desire to go over and run him through on that nasty sword of his flickering in his eyes, and seeming as disturbed by feeling whatever he just did as I felt watching it, he quickly looks away and back out the window he’s by.

Huh.

“Hey,” I ask, not sure after I’ve already started why I’m asking Billy instead of Ritsuka, so I include both of them as I continue, “He got some weird history with the caster?”

“…Yes,” says Ritsuka kind of uncertainly, “I-I don’t really understand all of it. But. They were friends when they were alive, but people suspected him of murdering him, even though they didn’t, so. That’s what he’s remembered for, even if it was a lie. And the Throne…it. It created his spirit origin the way he’s remembered, not like he was.”

Oh, shit. That’s…

I glance over at Salieri for a second, then back at my meal. Last thing he’d want is my pity, but he’s certainly got my sympathy. Fucking Throne.

“He’s mostly been tryin’ to stay away from him, because it seems like he’s kinda both the fake person, and the one he used to be, and the one he mostly is don’t want to kill his old friend. But. It seems like it’s hard to control. Emiya described it like havin’ part of your spirit origin be a command spell makin’ you do somethin’ you don’t want, only all the time,” answers Billy, a grimace on his face.

An apt, and annoyingly Archer way to have put that. Of course he’d somehow already understand whatever the fuck was going on; that guy always knows way too much about other heroic spirits, damn him.

“Do you know…if we can help him?” asks Ritsuka worriedly in my head, and I glance over in surprise because it’s really not something I expected to get asked. “Can we change what the Throne does?”

“…Not without something powerful as shit, like a holy grail,” I answer, “And those fucking things tend to be real monkey’s paws of a wish granter.” I reconsider then, remembering other summons. “I guess…sometimes you can change things a little. You can’t undo what the throne did, but you might make it easier to handle.” I know I’ve seen that happen, for what it’s worth. “I think you’re doing a fine job,” I add, because I figure she’s about to ask me how, and hell if I actually know. She does seem to be doing well though. “Just keep it up.”

She looks a little uncertain, but gives me a thankful smile anyway.

“Any more news from the Archers?” I ask.

“Not yet, but that’s okay,” she says, looking very relieved, “Emiya said they’d let me know once they were done checking things out, or if anything happened, so, it at least means nothing bad’s happened.”

That’s good. It didn’t take those two long to make it to her parents’ place and scope it out, and true to predictions, no danger as yet. Worst comes to worst, they should be able to move them somewhere pretty easy without them getting grabbed, but if we’re lucky, we’ll have managed to keep things under wraps. Might be safer to move ‘em anyway, though…

“I figured it’d take a while to check out the area,” she adds.

“I’m real glad that turned out so well,” says Billy.

She perks up and nods. “Me too. Do you think-”

There’s a little rap against the door, and it slides open, David poking his head in. “Oh—hello—is this a good time, Chavera?”

“David! Hey—!” says Ritsuka excitedly, hopping up and setting her dish on the ground, “I was about to come check on you—how’s the doctor doing?”

“Oh, much better,” says David, sliding open the door to reveal a hotel-robe glad, tired and embarrassed looking man I vaguely remember from the shootout, standing behind him.

“Hi,” says the man awkwardly, waving a little.

“Oh,” says Ritsuka, caught off guard, “You’re awake.”

Nervous, the doctor rubs the back of his neck and gives David a quick glance before looking back at her. “Yeah. Thank you, for not leaving me behind. I’m sorry everything fell so badly apart back there…”

“Oh,” she says in a very different tone, looking ashamed, “That was David.” The doctor glances at him and he just gets a smug beam back from the guy. “I-I’m sorry—we would have if we—I just was so falling apart from everything that had happened I didn’t even—”

“-You don’t have to apologize,” says the doctor sincerely, giving her a very understanding smile, “I’m just glad I made it out. Thanks for putting me up.”

“Of course!” she says, “Any time. –I-I’m, I’m really sorry you got so hurt, because we stared to leave without you.”

“That wasn’t why I got hurt,” he says, almost a laugh, “but thanks. I’m feeling a lot better, now. Incredibly.”

David claps him on the back a little too forcefully, but even though he almost staggers a step forward, he doesn’t really seem to mind.

“Uh—anyway,” he says, giving David a glance before turning his attention back to Ritsuka, “David’s brought me up to speed on at least most of what’s going on, and I know we’re on a hard time limit, so I figured since I’m awake and up to it, we should get started on my end of the deal.”

“Cu Chulainn?” she asks, and I look up from one of my last mouthfuls of curry and double-take. Me??

“Yes,” says the doctor, giving the room a once-over, and pausing on each of us, but me longest. He’s about to keep going, but stops, brow furrowing, and says something else instead. “—Where are the other two?”

“Oh, Emiya and Robin went to check on my family,” says Ritsuka, looking anxiously down at her hands.

“R-Right,” says the doctor with sympathy, “Of course. I, uh. I remember; Toujou.”

She nods.

“Are they alright?” he asks like he really is concerned. Interesting guy. I got no real clue who he is or where they picked him up—not one of the things I asked much about on the way here. But, I get he’s on our side, anyway. Despite being a mage, and working a short term contract for those fucks. Guess it hardly matters right now.

“ Yeah,” she says, perking up a little and looking up to meet his gaze, “Right now. I’m hoping—Emiya said there’s a chance nobody really knows, and it’ll be okay. But that, if not, he and Robin can help them get somewhere really safe and hidden, before anyone finds them.”

The doctor nods. “Smart approach. I’m really glad to hear—Honestly, I’m amazed you’re still awake yourself right now—you have to be exhausted.”

“I can’t sleep,” she says, looking at the floor, “I still don’t know for sure they’ll be okay.”

“R. Right. Of course you wouldn’t,” says the doctor. He smiles sadly to himself, then refocuses. “Uhm—well, a-as I was saying, I thought that with so little time left, the sooner we can take a look at the damage to that spirit origin, the better.”

“Yeah,” she responds enthusiastically, “that would be great! Thank you.”

Mine? She did say they might be able to fix it, but I gotta say, that sounds like bullshit to me—I mean, no way it’s possible right? Not with the people here. Still, I guess it really can’t hurt to try, though.

“You can really do that?” I ask, skeptical, setting my plate on the coffee table.

“Well. Let me take a look, first,” says the doctor almost sheepishly, coming over.

What the hell. I stand up.

“Oh—you can sit down if you want,” he says.

I’m already up, so I shrug.

“Okay,” says the doctor, and he kind of awkwardly moves closer, glances behind him at David, who gives him a somewhat intimidating, eyes-closed smile, and then he turns his attention back to me, “This might hurt a little,” he warns, hovering his hand over the place I was run through in my stomach, “Even though you’ve been healed, the damage to your core is still there, and it’ll be connected to the place you took the damage physically. You might feel that along with pressure when I touch where the wound was.”

“Don’t stop on my account,” I grin, flexing my fingers to relax. This actually probably will hurt like a bitch, if it’s even a fraction of how I was feeling before.

Very gently, the doctor puts his palm on my gut and shuts his eyes, whispering something to himself I expect to be magecraft, but I don’t sense any mana. Is he just…talking to himself? There’s the faintest little tiny sense of it from him then, but it’s more like just being in a room where magic was used at some point, than the way magic should feel. The…hell?

“Sorry—I don’t have a great way of doing this without equipment,” he tells me, chagrined, opening his eyes a second, “I’m actually not much of a mage…This would be so much easier for me in a lab. ”

Well, usually ‘not much of a mage’ would make me like him more, so I don’t really care, but I guess it sucks at the moment. And it does hurt, but way less than I thought, being touched where the wound was. Like…walking on a leg that broke, but is close to healed back by now. A dull ache. Ooof, it’s a deep one though. My core is cracking in two…

“You’re not gonna be able to fix it,” I tell him as that thought solidifies—as I take my own good long look at just how mangled my core is. I almost feel sympathy for the guy, because they’re really asking the impossible from him, and Archer and I saw him getting torn to shit on the screens up in security before David showed up and saved him, so healed or not, he sure as shit can’t be feeling too great himself. “No one can. You’d have to be an Archmage or someone with primordial runes to fix this kind of shit—a God maybe. Doctor ain’t gonna cut it.”

There’s a very far away, almost depressed look in his eyes for a second, then he blinks and straightens up, and glances at Ritsuka, then me, and lowers his hand. “Usually, you’d be right,” he agrees, chagrined, “That is the kind of magic it would take. Luckily, sometimes those people record their knowledge though, so I do actually know a spell that could fix this.”

I stare at him.

He’s gotta be delusional. Or joking.

“…How?” asks Billy, a look on his face like I bet is on mine.

The doctor glances over at him. “Uh. Well—my job has allowed me access, even if usually pretty temporary, to a whole range of artifacts, and ancient texts. Chaldea has an incredible observation lens too, and I’ve gotten looks at things most people never will, so. I’ve been able to study some magic that’s pretty much lost to the mage community. In theory, I could heal a spirit core, with enough power—as in, I know a ritual for it, and I understand how it works, which are two of the three key components. Unfortunately, the other one is…ability,” he says much more downcast and quiet, exhaling slow, “Which uh. I have almost none of.”

“But, you’re a head mage,” says Ritsuka in confusion.

“I’m not,” says the doctor tiredly, “I’m the head of medical staff. It’s not a position where magecraft as a primary skill is as important as knowledge of how to use it, and medicine in general.”

“Why did you say you could fix him, then?” asks Salieri.

“Well—I didn’t want to get killed,” replies the doctor nervously, taking a step back towards David automatically, “B-But uh---I wasn’t lying either! I do actually think—I-In theory—I can. Just.” He turns his gaze on Ritsuka. “I don’t have the power.”

She blinks at him, totally lost. “…Why are…?—ME?” I can’t see his face well while he’s looking at her, but his expression must give some kind of a yes, because she goes ghostly. “N-No way—I can’t do complicated magic like that! I-I mean, I’ll try, if that’s all we’ve got,” she adds, panicked, looking at me then back at the doctor, “but I only just learned how to—how to do anything at all! Th-that’s like expecting me to be able to pick up a scalpel and do heart surgery!” Something about what she’s said hits her weird and her eyes get huge and she quits talking.

??? The hell…?

“Well—yes, you’re right,” hurries the doctor, trying to relieve her stress, “I know that, and I don’t think I even could explain the ritual to you in a way you’d understand. It took...months and months of reading just to get the concept down the first time, and I’ve got a thorough education in this stuff. Th-The problem is, I have the knowledge, and you’ve got the mana. And…” His eyes flick over to David nervously, then back to her. “Well. There…is a way to fix that, technically, but. I…can’t in good conscience ask you to do that, let alone to do it with me, someone you barely know. I-It would be too much to ask of a friend. But.” His shoulders sag. “I…truly don’t know any other way to keep Cu Chulainn alive. And I told you I would try, so. This late, with what supplies we have and could get, this is the only idea I’ve got.”

Anxious now, Ritsuka looks from him to David and back. “Well. What’s the way? Will it…hurt me?” Her voice is so small on the last two words, after the night she’s had, it hurts to hear. Poor fucking kid. Everyone really is asking a lot of her. I should probably just accept my fate here and stop this.

“No—well—it shouldn’t,” says the doctor, starting to gesture as he talks and talking a few steps closer to her, nervous energy practically wafting off him, “It…doesn’t, if it goes well. Which I’m almost certain it would! I have experience, and several successes under my best. But, it’s very risky, and…personal. Uh—the only way, really, or—the only practical one—to overcome a lack of magic circuits like mine, is to get them from someone else. And…the only decent way to do that, would be to have someone willing to transplant their magical crest onto me.”

Ritsuka gapes at him. “…The…But I don’t have one.”

It’s his turn to look a little shocked. He looks at David. “I thought you said she was a mage Ur-Shanabi hired for a project?”

“She is,” says David with a shrug, “But not a legacy. She’s a very new mage.”

“Then why-?” he starts.

“I…was only there because I have a strange amount of mana—I was a case study,” says Ritsuka nervously.

“Oh,” he says, looking back at her and then going almost vacant, thinking a mile a minute.

I guess that’s that. Probably for the best, if it’s that risky. ‘Sides, not like I really expected something different. There’s like a rule carved into the throne saying if my master isn’t shitty, I better get myself killed within 48 hours.

“…Well…” says Ritsuka tentatively as she watches the doctor, “…If…we could make a new one for me, and then transplant it, would that work? They must make a…a first one some time, right? To start the crest in a family?”

I think she’s afraid she’s going to get knocked down for her lack of knowledge, but the doctor just stops moving and stares, thoroughly taken aback. “That…yes…” he says slowly, blinking in fascination. “Yes! That’s doable—but we’d need—" Quickly, he turns in a circle, assessing us. “—Does anyone here have a mystic code? We’d need one—damn it! I-If I’d just thought to bring supplies from Ur-Shanabi—but. Their storeroom is gone, and getting back in, now?” He’s mostly talking to himself, shaking his head, but he looks back up at us then, meeting eyes, searching for his answer.

“Not me,” I say, grimacing.

Billy shakes his head unhappily too.

“…I have one,” says Salieri very quietly, “Amadeus does not, so that would make me the only one,” he adds with something like dread.

“Perfect!” says the doctor, lighting up, “We could use that then-“

Salieri gives him a guarded look. “As what?”

“As—Oh,” says the doctor, slowing down a little but still enthusiastic, “A base. See—originally, mage crests were begun by inserting a foreign object, not always but most often some sort of original mystic code, into the head of the family’s body, and—”

“-NO,” says Salieri, recoiling against the window, almost hostile with his distress, “No! You will not.”

“But—would it hurt you?” asks Ritsuka, worried.

“Me?” he asks in disbelief, almost pained, “It would hurt you. My ‘mystic code’ is an embodiment of hatred and murder itself—it’s an instrument of death, and the desire to bring it, deserved or not, even against your own will—you are not putting even a fraction of that thing into her body.”

Ritsuka looks stunned, and the doctor disappointed. No way he’s not absolutely right though. Even though my foundation for magic was runes, I know sure as shit that your fount is important, and making your first stepping stone hate-fueled blood lust, is not exactly gonna be healthy for that kid.

“So that’s out, then,” says the doctor worriedly, thinking hard. Salieri looks…incredibly surprised not to be fought, but immensely relieved.

“…Would Robin’s cloak work, or is it too powerful?” asks Billy, “It’s a noble phantasm, but I know he uses it in less powerful capacities too, so it might be one. Or he might have something else—he’s got a lot of range.”

I’m not 100% on what exactly mystic codes are myself, especially since I’ve seen so fucking many, and they’re everything from charm bracelets, to rocks, to fucking swords and robots.

“I’m not sure,” says the doctor, perking up a little, “we could ask, couldn’t we?”

Wait Shit—that’s—

“Archer has one too,” I add.

“Archer? –Emiya?” says Ritsuka.

“Yeah, whatever, that guy,” I agree, “His coat thing.” Fucking annoying ass armor…

“O-Okay, well, they’re not here, but they could get back in time I think.” She looks really worried then.

Yeah, they’re off watching out for her parents.

“Look, this is a long shot at best, isn’t it?” I ask, figuring I’ve let it go on long enough, “If I get the idea, then you’re saying that even if you get one, you have to implant it without your body rejecting it, and then you have to almost immediately transplant it onto the doctor there. Both of which I’m pretty sure I’ve seen enough mage shit to know are procedures with high failure and mortality rates.”

Ritsuka pales even more, face almost ashy as she turns to look at me fully.

“Just let it go,” I say sympathetically, “It’s fine. I’ve died a lot of worse ways. Fate always cuts me off real quick if things might end up going my way; I’m used to it.”

“But…” she says, eyes welling up, “That’s not fair. I want to try.”

“You have,” I promise, feeling pretty okay about this now, even if it sucks, “Trust me. I’ve had worse. Just glad to die out here.”

“…It’s…more complicated than that,” says the doctor worriedly, almost agitated, tapping his fingers against his arm, “Ur-Shanabi…They’re going to be recouping any loses they can frantically. If you die, they’ll re-summon you, immediately. –You didn’t get his token, David said, and it wasn’t in the vault, so it’s somewhere in that damn building, and it’s one of the only high-profile artifacts they still have. If you die here, you’re immediately going back there, and they’re going to be looking for information on her, which, if you retain your memories? Under command seal, you’re going to give them.”

“The odds of that are pretty low,” I say quietly, considering it just the same, because it’s a real fair point. Most of us almost never do, though, once summoned again, which is the generally pretty fucking shit, but. …

I almost miss it, caught up in my own mental guessing games, but Ritsuka looks…shocked, by that. Does she not know? That we usually…?

“That isn’t all of it,” continues the doctor quietly, “Your best-case scenario isn’t being resummoned back to a state of sustained near-death with no memories of us. It’s worse, because even if you get as lucky as you can, you’re still going back, and even if you don’t remember a single thing you did, they will, and they know you were involved. It isn’t even going to matter how much.” He meets my gaze then and holds it, and the warning there is chilling, which after the life any of us have lead? Is a damn hard thing to do. “You didn’t blow the vault; I did. But they don’t have me,” says the doctor, “You didn’t free everyone—she did, but they don’t have her. They are only going to have you. And when they get you, they’re going to want information, and even if the only people there left are too stupid to try and get it from you fast, or you luck out and lose your memories and have none to give them? Do you have any idea what they’re going to do to you, to make somebody pay for what happened tonight?”

…

Shit. Fuck. He’s right, and I don’t want to think about it, but I’ve got enough memories of mages, and a vivid imagination. …Fuck! Fuck. But there’s no real getting out of it… I could ask her, I think, mind flashing me things that are likely to happen back to back to back, like fate, She might do it. She’s sweet, and she’s a kid. And sweet kids will suffer a lot for somebody who asks, even a stranger.

But I wouldn’t be much of a hero if I was willing to let a kid risk her life to spare me a little torture.

I shrug and flash a grin. “I’ve had my fair share of dying. I’m ready to do it again.”

“No,” says Ritsuka quietly, and I glance at her. She’s looking at me with her huge doe eyes, all shiny like she’s trying not to cry. “I won’t let you.”

“—Kid, it’s what I’m built for. I’ve—” I start carelessly, trying to be very convincing, but she cuts me off completely.

“—You think we can make it work?” she asks the doctor quickly, not even looking at me.

He gives a quick nod, serious himself. “Yes. If I can get supplies. I’m about the best person you could ask for, for a transplant, and I promise,” he adds, looking at me then, “If I see tissue rejection, I’ll stop everything,” he turns his attention back to her, “and make sure you don’t die. Believe me when I say the last thing I want is a young person like you’s blood on my hands.”

“Then there’s no reason at all not to try,” she declares, perking up just like that.

There damn well is! “It’s an incredibly foolhardy—”

“—Please,” she says, turning to me again, “Please. I want to try. I fought hard for all of this. I risked everything I have! Don’t I deserve a chance to?”

I think…if she’d asked me any other way, I’d try to argue with her, but I can’t, to that. She’s right. Her parents are in trouble because she picked this battle, and she’s in trouble, and if she wants to win how she wants to win, for her, I’m not gonna stop her from trying. I’m gonna fucking hold that doctor to his promise to abort part way if things go south at spear point though.

I hold up my hands like surrender. “Okay.”

Elated, Ritsuka turns back to the doctor. “Okay—hang on. Emiya, Robin?” I hear the last words in my head—I think all of us but the doctor do, based on the others’ expressions.

“Something up?” comes Robin’s voice.

“Sort of,” says Ritsuka, “Not danger, but, to heal Cu Chulainn’s spirit core—well, it’s kind of a long story, but I need a mage crest, and to do that, we need a mystic code. Does either of you have one we could use?”

“…”

“…”

I can fucking hear the silence from both of them.

“…Why?” Archer this time.

“To create a mage crest—you can use one as a base,” says Ritsuka.

“…”

“…”

“That’s incredibly dangerous,” says Archer, “You know that?”

“Yes,” she says like she’s not worried anymore, “But there’s no other way.”

“You could die. You have a high likelihood of it,” says Archer, voice hard.

She hesitates, then with assurance says, “I won’t. And we have to try! Please—I know it’s probably a lot to ask, because they must be really, really valuable, even if I only take a little part of one, but if we don’t, he’ll get summoned back to Ur-Shanabi, and it’ll be even worse, a-and I don’t know if we could make it in again to save him.”

“…”

“…”

“Hang on.”

He does the servant version of hanging up on her, and after what I’m sure is about thirty seconds of him and Robin talking alone, I hear his voice again. It starts with a long, very tired exhale.

“If you’re determined to do this, then one of us will have to come back. So far, we have no sign of danger, and Robin’s got the better land defense capabilities and stealth, and I have the highest chance of success as far as genetic compatibility goes, so I’d be the one to come back. Are you sure?”

“Yes,” says Ritsuka, looking relieved about the update on her parents.

“You’re a decent match?” asks David curiously.

“Not really,” says Archer unhappily, “But we’re from the same region, and close to the same time period, so I’ve got a leg up on every single one of you, unfortunately. And as far as bases go, my mystic code is defensive and not a lot else, so at least it shouldn’t actively poison her. At this short notice, I’m gathering that’s about the best you’re going to get.”

“You’ll do it?” double checks Ritsuka.

“…Yes,” he says unhappily, “If you’re set on it.”

“Thank you!” she says, relief flooding her face, “Thank you! I promise, I’ll use it really well, and I’ll try to only take the littlest bit we need to make a crest! Thank you!”

I hear him sigh, but it’s not an entirely unhappy one.

“I’m assuming you need equipment too. Get some by the time I get back.”

“Right!” says Ritsuka happily, “And Robin? Thank you. For watching out for my parents. Are you sure you’ll be okay alone for a little while?”

“I’m used to it,” he replies, self-assured, “Don’t worry about a thing. If I need help, I’ll call. You do the same.”

“That’s a promise!” she grins.

“Yeah? Like last time?” I can hear the smile in his voice, and she flushes.

“I-I would have! If I had needed,” she starts.

“-I’m just bothering you. Go on. Get to it,” he signs off in a friendly way, and she smiles.

“Okay—stay safe,” says Ritsuka.

“If anyone shows up, make ‘em pay,” adds Billy with a grin.

“Can-do,” comes Robin’s voice.

Finished, Ritsuka turns back to he doctor, who’s been watching what to him is a weird several minute silence very composedly for the circumstances. “We got a mystic code coming!”

Immediately, his features are flooded with relief. “Fantastic! Alright—then—” he looks around quickly, “Okay—I’ll need supplies.”

Billy stands up, and without meaning to, Salieri does too at the exact same time and they trade glances.

“We can handle that,” says Salieri.

“Yeah--if you can give us a list of what you need and some idea where to find it, we got that covered,” adds Billy with a nod.

“I can do that,” says the doctor with relief, “Just give me a second—where can I get pape—”

David is holding out a notebook he snagged off one of the hotel bedside tables already, and the doctor flushes and takes it.

“Okay, alright—it shouldn’t be hard in this part of the city,” says the doctor hopefully, “If someone can get me a map, I can mark it up and can show you where.”

[rvspberry]

Idk if I’m gonna end up posting this on AO3 because it’s very different from what I usually write.

But below the cut is some Johnny Lawrence sexuality crisis angst with a happy ending if you feel like it. (Heavy Christian themes and Lawrusso ending ahead.)

He was righteous, on high, the Almighty personified. Forgiving, and gracious in victory, and good through and through. Set his mind to something and he could make the whole world come alive.

That’s how Johnny felt at the Tournament, at least, when the entire crowd swarmed the floor and lifted LaRusso onto their shoulders, and Johnny snagged the first place trophy. Handed it up like an offering, a sacrificial lamb — all that Johnny had at stake, all that he’d lost, given freely and openly to this holy being.

The crowd grew louder. Johnny called out, “You’re alright, LaRusso. Good match.”

Got a pained, “Thanks,” in return.

He’d touched someone holy and lived to tell the tale.

~

Once Johnny is at Bobby’s house that night, since Sid and Laura flew to Miami for the week before Christmas, he asks Bobby to pray with him.

“You okay, Johnny?”

Johnny glances up to find worried blue eyes looking over at him, sizing him up — no, not quite. Measuring him, trying to gauge Johnny for what no one could see. Bobby’s eyes are such a different blue than Johnny's, clear and crisp but never cold. Johnny wonders if Bobby sees anything, if Johnny shows anything.

“I just…” Johnny rasps, gripping the glass of water in hand again and taking a hesitant sip. They told him at the hospital that he’d have to rest. Asked if he wanted to press charges, but Johnny just shook his head. “I need some guidance.”

“No better place to look to than to Jesus,” Bobby agrees, reaching out to take Johnny’s hands. He closes his eyes, and Johnny pauses for a brief moment, body going stiff, before he follows suit. Takes a deep breath as Bobby begins. “Our Father, who art in heaven. Hallowed be thy name.”

Daniel.

“Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven,” Bobby continues.

Johnny squeezes his eyes tighter and tries not to let his grip tighten, too.

“Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.”

Please forgive me. Please. Daniel. I’m sorry.

“And lead us not into temptation—”

Daniel’s eyes. His grin, his mouth, his lips. Daniel’s body. The confident smirk when he gets up into Johnny’s face.

“—but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory,” Bobby finishes, squeezing Johnny’s hands. Johnny blinks his eyes open, jaw clenched, to see Bobby giving him a small smile. “Forever and ever. Amen.”

“Amen,” Johnny repeats weakly, clenching his teeth against the urge to cry. To sob.

To throw himself onto the floor and mourn the loss of a life he’d had for years now, the life he’d fought so hard for. The life of a champion, of a winner, the life of a kid from Encino Hills. The life of someone normal, a leader, head dog even though he came into this life late, no rules established, flying blind and feeling his way into his place.

“You’re sure you’re okay, man?”

“I’m not,” Johnny chokes out. Hangs his head.

There are too many thoughts in his head, too much guilt and shame, and he can’t focus on one without the other flaring up to take his attention. Back and forth, back and forth, between Kreese almost killing him and Daniel’s sensei saving him and Daniel winning the match, to needlessly tormenting Daniel all semester and making a bigger ass of himself each and every time. Over and over, like it was on a loop.

“Do you want to pray again?” Bobby asks, voice dropping lower. “Sometimes it helps. The… repetition. Try to focus on the words this time. Focus on God. Let the spirit take you.”

Take me where? Johnny thinks, but he just tightens his hands around Bobby’s and nods.

“Our Father, who art in heaven…”

~

When Bobby leaves at the end of the summer to go to college in Oregon, a special school for religious studies, he leaves Johnny with his new number and a prayer book.

“If things get hard, turn to God,” he reminds Johnny. Pats Johnny’s back while they hug tightly. Johnny hasn’t been apart from Bobby since they became best friends at thirteen, both newly enrolled in Cobra Kai. “God has a plan for all of us, and you can find all your answers in the Lord, man. You just have to be open to hearing them even when they’re not the answers you want.”

Johnny keeps the prayer book. Says a prayer every night. Calls Bobby once a week, like clockwork, and stops drinking. He gets kicked out of Sid’s house when he turns 18 in July, gets a job as a handyman, then starts apprenticing for a carpenter, then starts working construction. It’s hard work but it’s honest work.

~

Every time his eyes turn to one of his coworkers, when they catch on the sweat and grime smeared over their muscles, or the curve of their ass, or the line of their jaw, Johnny recites one of those prayers in his head.

Dear Lord, please give me strength when I am weak, courage when I am afraid, love when I feel forsaken, wisdom when I feel foolish, comfort when I am alone, hope when I feel rejected, and peace when I am in turmoil. Amen.

Every time he gets asked out for drinks by his well-meaning colleagues, he politely declines and spends ten minutes praying in his car after his shift is over, hands blistered, muscles aching.

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among sinners and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen.

Every night, Johnny lays in bed and freestyles his prayers. God needs to know, he probably already knows, but he needs to know that Johnny doesn’t want to be like this. He wants to change. He wants answers. He wants to be open to them, just like Bobby told him.

~

“Go out tonight,” Bobby laughs when Johnny calls him on a Saturday at his usual time. “Just get out and have some fun. Go to a movie. Buy yourself dinner, whatever. Go meet someone. You’re just working and sleeping. You need to live a little, Johnny.”

Is that what God wants me to do? Johnny thought to himself. To go out and find a woman to settle down with? Is that God’s plan?

It’s what Johnny’s supposed to do, right?

“Okay, okay,” Johnny groans into the phone, ready to slam it back onto the receiver when Bobby whoops in elated triumph. “Some good, clean fun. Fitting for the best friend of a pastor’s son.”

~

Johnny goes to the movies. The new sequel to Alien, aptly titled ‘Aliens,’ looks halfway decent. Definitely not a good clean movie, but Johnny can live a little. It’s on its last leg, only playing the earlier showings, so Johnny snags the ticket since he figures he can be mostly alone that way. He loiters in the lobby trying to decide between popcorn or an overpriced box of candy to go with his soda. The bored teen behind the counter pops her gum and rolls her eyes as she waits for him to make up his mind.

He doesn’t fidget as he looks in the glass case, even as much as he wants to. It’s been conditioned out of him.

“Back straight, shoulders down, chin up, Mr. Lawrence.”

“Hey, can I get a large popcorn please?” comes a voice from beside him.

Johnny glances over, shaggy hair whipping around his face, and spots the one person he thought he’d never see again. Daniel LaRusso looks the same as he did before — a little taller, maybe, his long limbs filled out a little more, but still the shrimpy kid who kicked his ass.

Same eyes, same voice, same body.

Same mouth.

Dear Lord, please give me strength—

“Johnny? Johnny Lawrence?!” Daniel’s words cut through his prayer.

Johnny inhales sharply. He has to control himself. Give me the strength when I am weak, courage when I—

“Holy shit, man, look at you,” Daniel laughs, tapping Johnny’s bicep tellingly. A year-plus in construction had done wonders for his body, and his arms in particular. “Like a brick shithouse. Are you on steroids?”

“No, I work construction.” Johnny doesn’t know why his voice sounds so rough. He clears his throat and tries again. “Hi, LaRusso. Small world meeting you here, I guess.”

“Yeah, man! You here with anyone?” Daniel glances around, as if trying to pin someone else in the lobby to Johnny, but there was no one to match him up with. No one to match up Daniel with, either.

“No. You?”

“Flying solo today,” Daniel croons, running his hands down his chest. Johnny blushes and looks up at the ceiling.

Hail Mary, full of grace. The Lord is with thee—

“What movie are you seeing?” Daniel asks, taking the tub of popcorn from the teen and passing a bill over the counter. He snagged a handful and popped a few butter-soaked pieces into his mouth.

“Uh…” Johnny glances down at his ticket. “Aliens.”

“No way! Me too!” Daniel says around chewing the popcorn. He pauses and looks at Johnny with his head cocked curiously. “You wanna watch it together?”

~

O, my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended You. I detest all my sins because of your just punishments, but most of all because they offend you, My God, who are all good and worthy of all my love. I firmly resolve, with the help of Your grace, to sin no more and to avoid the near occasions of sin. Amen.

~

The movie theater is empty. There’s butter on Daniel’s bottom lip, shining in the dimly lit room. Johnny licks it off in the black silence of the end credits.

Kissing Daniel feels like coming home. It feels like touching something divine, and Johnny’s stained gold in all the places they touch.

Is this God’s plan? Johnny asks himself. Daniel’s fingers tug at his hair, nails scraping gently over his scalp. Johnny pulls Daniel across the seat and into his lap as he swallows Daniel’s moan.

Below Johnny’s hands, Daniel feels like an answer.

[spicynamericano]

Perception. - mk lee

sypnosis: you meet a stranger in the park, who helps you prepare for your interview with renowned author, mark lee.

word count: 2.1k

genre: fluff, strangers to friends!au, author!mark x reporter!reader

a/n: i impulsively wrote this in the wee hours of the morning because i can't stop thinking about mark lee and his poems! btw, this is my first time posting an au on this platform, but i do have ongoing twitter fics (written in eng/fil)!

I had just finished my late night shift at the office and was on my way home from work. Being a field reporter is not an easy job. I have to work my butt off to always stay up to date on the latest news and make sure to grab even the rarest exclusives.

I have to travel to basically anywhere, just to gather the most accurate information for the daily primetime news. And even if work is done for the day, I would usually go overtime to make sure no single detail is left out for tomorrow’s reports.

My workplace isn’t that far from home, or what I call home now. Moving into my elder sister’s old apartment was not a hassle. It was actually quite a blessing since I always used to stay over whenever we visited the city. I really thank the heavens that her place was near my workplace. Imagine the struggle of moving in and out from scratch. Actually, I wouldn’t even dare to imagine.

I would usually ride my bike to and from the office, but since I was running a bit late earlier in the morning, I decided to take the bus. Convenience at its finest. But it’s late now. A fifteen minute walk back home won’t hurt, right? Besides, I needed a breather. A walk in the nearby park would suffice.

It’s midnight and of course, the park is empty. Although Seoul is alive 24/7, I really like how some areas still have that laid-back vibe. I walk to the swings and place my bag on the ground. I do wish someone would push me right now. I just wanna be free from all the hectic stuff I’ve been doing lately.

But no, the quick rest I thought of didn’t stop me from going over tomorrow’s duties. I scan my little, brown notepad and check the work I have yet to accomplish. I mostly finished them before I got off work, but there is one more that I needed to do for tomorrow: interview Mr. Mark Lee, the author of the best-selling Late Night Scribbles.

It’s a collection of poems and prose he’s written over the course of five years during his travels to different cities as a renowned travel writer. His travel reviews and recommendations were something I always looked forward to reading. Maybe someday I could go on a stress-free holiday trip thanks to his advice.

I have read his book. For someone who’s trained into more technical writing like me, I could still clearly resonate with most of the poems he’s written. Not too shallow, not too deep. Though you do need to have a sense of literature in order to understand more of his deeper works. He isn’t famous for nothing.

What appalled me though is that he never showed his face to anyone, not even once. Some say he’s actually the main rapper of the world-renowned boy group NCT, since they bear the same name. I think otherwise. Well, it could be, though. Rappers do make their own lines and tell their own stories.

But I don’t think that Mark Lee would be the same person I’d be interviewing tomorrow. It’s weird because I won’t be actually meeting him face to face. He said he’d rather converse through email. Works for me since I don’t have to travel tomorrow. Thank God.

Well, let me tell you a secret. The reason I don’t think author Mark Lee is singer Mark Lee is because singer Mark Lee is actually my childhood best friend. Crazy, huh? I used to live in Vancouver when I was young until my family and I moved back to Korea during my teen years.

I don’t think he remembers me, though. But I do remember him. Our moms were practically best friends. I couldn’t say the same to us, only if he still actually remembers me.

I stretch my arms up high and bend it side to side. God, I need a massage asap. I was about to pick up my bag when a basketball rolled over and hit the tip of my loafers. A man dressed in black waves from the court, signaling to toss the ball to his direction.

I would toss it if I could but I walk over instead. Blame my poor strength and reflexes. And I obviously do not want to embarrass myself. A rough day’s a rough day. I don’t want an addition.

“Uhm, are you looking for this?” I ask the guy, tossing the ball mid-air.

“Yes, thank you…” he pauses. “uh…”

“Oh, it’s (y/n).” I introduced myself, “And you are?”

“Minhyung.”

“Well, you’re welcome, Minhyung. Good luck with your basketball practice!” I gave him a nod before finally turning back to go home.

“Wait!” he calls out. “Do you maybe wanna have a cup of coffee? There’s a nearby convenience store still open. I figured you might need it.”

Was it that obvious? I can’t imagine how stressed I look right now! He has probably seen the dark circles under my eyes. Gross.

I finally turn around and give him a smile, “You know, maybe I do need it. Let’s go?”

This man and I walk to the nearby convenience store just a few meters away from the court. It’s midnight and not many people are here. Well, just exactly like how I want it. The park can actually become full, even until 10 pm. But I guess these people also need some shut-eye. I’m actually surprised this man right here still has some energy left.

I wait outside and sit at the nearest gazebo while he buys instant coffee for the both of us. He arrives with three in hand. Does he like coffee that much?

“You’re really gonna drink two?” I ask him curiously.

“It’s actually for you,” he says as he hands me one of the cups. “I feel like you’re going to be staying up late tonight.”

Well, he’s right. I am gonna be staying up late. I still need to prepare questions for tomorrow’s, or later, rather, interview. I really won’t be getting some sleep tonight. I also need to do research on him too.

“Well, I do have an interview for tomorrow. I still need to prepare as it’s a very important one.”

“With whom, may I ask?”

“Mark Lee, the author. Not the singer.”

“Oh,” he lets out a soft sigh that can be heard, even through his mask. Is he offended that I don’t think author Mark Lee and singer Mark Lee are the same?

“Why do you sound so disappointed?”

“Uh, nothing. I just remembered the book he recently released. Have you read it?”

“Late Night Scribbles?”

“Yes, that!” he answered enthusiastically. Wow, I guess I found a fan right here. He might actually help me with my interview later. I need to grab this chance.

“Do you mind helping me? I’m actually going to interview him about it tomorrow.” I gave him the widest smile, hoping he’d say yes. I normally wouldn’t do this to strangers, especially at night. But I really just need to get this over with.

“Well, as someone who’s a fan of his works. I’d like to give it a try and interpret it,” he said, taking a sip of his coffee. “Just imagine I’m Mark Lee. Shoot your questions.”

“Hmm, I can’t be answering personal questions since you’re not Mark Lee.” I scratch my head. Damn, I can’t think of anything. My brain is not working right now! “But if you were Mark Lee, what would you want to be asked?”

“If I were Mark Lee? Well, rather than asking what my inspiration was behind the works I’ve made, I’d rather be asked on how I tried to convey my thoughts and feelings to this piece of work,” he explained, staring at the night sky.

I followed the direction of his gaze, and he’s looking at Orion, one of the brightest constellations out there. I gaze at it too while waiting for him to continue explaining.

“But isn’t it basically the same as drawing inspiration from something?” I ask profoundly.

“Not really. You can draw inspiration from anything. And you can come up with different outputs based on one inspiration. What’s important is how you’re able to connect the context of what you’re writing to the feelings you want to draw out,” he continues.

“With a single inspiration, I can come up with two completely different works based on how it’s written. The idea may be the same but the context is not.”

“Hmm, care to explain a little further?” I ask politely.

“We can use Black Socks as an example.”

Black socks are underrated

The way they connect the bottom sleeves of

my black sweatpants to my black sneakers

is just perfect

Pleasure from perfect alignment

That also goes for the ability to be parallel

with my thoughts and actions

I try to live out what’s in my mind, and keep

it consistent even when forgotten like a

working habit

A moment to think twice about what

seemed unimportant

Black socks have been making my day

these days and I knew I had to return the

favor by acknowledging them

I throw you in the bin only so that you can

be renewed again

“Black socks, literally an ordinary object that is tossed to the bin right after use. But what caught my eye is his appreciation for this mundane thing.”

“Through his words, you can tell black socks gave him comfort. He used a simple subject to convey his inner thoughts of how every little thing we don’t really recognize can actually be part of our routine, our life,” he said, looking me in the eye seriously.

“He found comfort in the most ordinary things no ordinary person would take notice of.”

Minhyung stands up and stretches his arms. He then continues, “It’s actually cool he shared this piece with us. If I were him, I’d go on and ramble how black socks could ruin my laundry.”

We both chuckle at the thought. It’s true. I hate how some of my black socks actually ruin my laundry. I dread the thought.

“It’s only a matter of perception, (y/n). Sometimes, you have to open your eyes and see, not look. Listen, not hear. Savor, not taste. Feel, not touch.”

“You know, you could actually be Mark Lee himself,” I tease him, “You do know your literature.”

I know he smiled at my remark. I can see his cheekbones rise from the edges of his mask.

“Sometimes, you just have to ask the right questions in order to get the answers you want,” he said teasingly. “You can’t get what you want if you don’t know what you want.”

For a stranger, he’s indeed a good talker. I actually learned so much from our talk tonight.

“Thanks for tonight, Minhyung. I really learned a lot.” I thank him before gulping down the last cup of coffee he bought me. “And thanks for the coffee, by the way! I now have energy to prepare for my interview later.”

“No problem. I’m just glad that I was able to help.”

I stood up from my seat and we both started walking away from the park.

“It’s 1 am. How are you gonna get home, (y/n)?” Minhyung asks worriedly. Yeah, it is pretty late. It’s a good thing I just live near.

“My apartment’s just two blocks away. I can manage,” I say with a smile, a genuine one at that. “How about you?”

“I’ll just grab a cab. Do you mind if I walk you home?” I don’t know why but I felt flustered for a moment. Surprisingly though, I just nodded my head, giving him permission to accompany me home.

We both arrive at the entrance of my apartment building and we say our last goodbyes.

“For a stranger, you really do know how to make people comfy,” I say, crossing my arms and giving him a stare, brows furrowed to tease him.

“Well, that’s just how I am,” he says while giving me a wink. Okay, now he’s flirting. Someone stop him, please. Just kidding.

“By the way, you haven’t taken your mask off the entire time except when drinking coffee. I couldn’t get a good glimpse at you since it was dark,” I explain. It’s true. Add the fact that I’m barely keeping myself awake the whole time. “I might’ve actually thought you’re an idol of some sort. Perhaps, maybe you are Mark Lee.”

“What?” he asks, puzzled and clearly taken aback. “Why’d you think so?”

“Because you share the same name with him.”