#he's like very much connected to the King's curse so when the guy is gone Siffrin would soon be too

[gierosajie]

Spinning this AU around in my head again

Something something takes place just before Siffrin is forgotten but not quite and kinda why that happened

Yeah, they were the one that made everyone forget them

(some other nonsense doodles of this au)

[betweenblackberrybranches]

Automaton au

Chapter 1: Lost and found

They call it the age of man. It really isn’t. The creatures of old didn’t vanish, they just left the more densely populated areas. Most people didn’t realize that and the scholars and wizards proclaiming the victory of humankind, in the name of the king, certainly do not correct the assumptions of the general public. Stories from the wilder parts of the country are often put off as old tales in the safety of the capital and the surrounding cities and villages. But leaving the safety of the “developed” lands, people still fear and respected the things in the woods. Here the mediator between the Nature and the Humans is still a very much-needed profession. Witches had a bad reputation in the big cities for a long time. Apart from their knowledge in potion brewing, often only rivalled by alchemists, they are generally frowned upon as charlatans, their magic, connected to nature, seen as archaic compared to the sleek and modern magic of wizards. People do not like to be reminded of the outside, of the creatures roaming.

You sigh as you tuck in the silver broche holding your scarf, a sign of your profession, just as much as the much more obvious broad brimmed felted sun hat, you had rolled up and put away earlier. Your mother had gone ahead to look for a carriage that could take you at least somewhat in the direction you were traveling in.  Looking at the flowers next to the dirt road you walk slowly basking in the spring sun, fidgeting with a small stone you had picked up on the way. You feel nervous as you step on the muddy square of the small city, filled with different carts and carriages, the amount of people already threatening to overwhelm you. your mother, outgoing as she is, already made friends with a guy sitting on a carriage filled with various goods, Talking to him while scratching the donkeys already harnessed to pull the cart. She waves as you approach quickly telling you his name and various other facts about him you do not think you will be able to remember. He is willing to let you travel on the back of the cart for a small price. You study his bearded face riddled with crowfeet and his warmly smiling eyes. Well at least he seems trustworthy you think as you thank him for his kindness and sit down in the back while your mother sits in the front, still talking with him about some kind of political topic. As the wagon lazily rumbles over the uneven roads, you take out the letter you had looked at so much the last few weeks, studying it again, as if its meaning could suddenly make sense to you.

[With sadness, we have to inform you that the great wizard Aspodious has passed.

He died soundly in his sleep, which the doctor on sight attributed to his great age.

As you are his relatives, we would like to convey our deepest condolences to your family.

The following page is a copy of his will. The Village chief of Worthwood has been informed and will help you with further inquiries.

Wizard association of the wizard tower. Capital, year 27 of king Gorm the kind, season of last light.]

You grimace at the page, cursing the harsh winter that first hindered the poor currier from delivering this message to the small village you lived in and then making it impossible to travel to the capital at all. It had been so bad the currier himself had to stay with one of the families who had room in their barn because the way back would have been as much as a death sentence, by spring the guy was promised to one of their daughters, Anne, if you remember correctly, they were quite the cute couple actually. You had seen them from time to time in the winter, her eyes had nothing but him in them and he couldn’t stop talking about how strong and good at hunting in the snow she was. A small smile crept on your face. At least some good had come of all of this.

When you had arrived in the capital your granduncle had been buried for a long time, all you could do was lay flowers on his grave and talking to his associates. Not that you actually wanted to attend his funeral on the account of all the wizards that surely littered the occasion.

Looking at the second page of the letter your face immediately scrunches back into a displeased expression.

[As I am old now I look back on my life, I wish I had spent more time with my family as estranged as most of you are from me.

I have not seen my nephew often for a long time, he always struck me as a bright boy though, he and my departed brothers wife I may leave 10 000 gold coins each.

My nephews’ son is a less bright one, followed by misfortune, as it seems. I leave him my small house in the outskirts of Worthwood. I hope this will lead to the foolish boy finally settling down.

I thank my niece for visiting me now and then, showing respect for my research and keeping me company when I was sickly in bed, as happens more often, now that I am old. To her I will leave half of my fortune and my best wishes.

My nieces’ child I have not seen since they were rather small, though they send me their best wishes every time their mother visited. To them I leave everything in my small house in worthwood, 5 000 gold coins and the family curse.

To the Wizard tower I leave half of my fortune, in memory of my happy life from apprenticeship under my late master, to the upper ranks of wizard kind.

Follow my wishes as stated in this document. Grand wizard Aspodius. Capital, year 27 of king Gorm the kind, season of first harvest.]

Trailing the lines repeatedly, you stare at the stamp, marking the piece of paper as an official document. He left you the family curse.

Leaning back, you look at the sky peeking through the canopy of the trees lining the road, shadows and light trailing over your face slowly.  “This is such a mess…”you mutter. A family curse, most times, is the curse of a bloodline. The cursed one usually gets a vision at some point detailing who in the family will receive it next, and this vision is, after an old custom only revealed after their death.

Lightly bunching up the fabric of your long sleeve, you peer at the deep red marks that had suddenly appeared on your right Arm last winter. At that time you had thought it a rash of some sort and treated it accordingly, generously applying soothing salves of your own making. Now it is somewhat obvious that they are not, they look just too similar to a rather big handprint adorned by sharp tips. As if someone had grabbed you. There was another handprint in the middle of your chest, around where your heart would be.

You did not know the details of the curse and your mother had refused to tell you anything about it. “In due time” she had said. It felt rather violating, having something happen to you but not being told anything about it. Your father had only tried to cheer you up, but couldn’t offer any information either. The family of your mother was rather secretive, both Witches of old and wizards and even nobles littering their ranks, though most of them long dead. Your mother did not like talking of them.

When you were small you had wanted to know more of your mothers family. She seldom told you about them, and when she did, it was rarely more than their names, which had long since slipped your mind.

Wondering which one of your ancestors was responsible for the curse and what exactly it entails, you hover your hands over your chest, rocking slightly back and forth, as you often do when deep in thoughts.

You travel with the old man and his cart for two days, camping under the stars at night. On the morning of the third day you arrive at his destination and part ways. Before you say your goodbyes, he draws you a small map, pointing out the village of Worthwood only laying a few crossroads over, behind some hills.

It still takes you a sizable amount of time getting there, not wanting to exhaust yourself too much you rest at the roadside multiple times eating the rest of the bread and cheese you had brought on this journey. In the late evening, you enter worthwood, barely more than 14 little cottages and bigger farmhouses and barns cluttering a small vale surrounded by the outskirts of the deep forests, only visible because of the rather bright light of the full moon. You remember this place, nothing seems to has changed since the summer you spent here when you were about 5 years old.  Which is quite the feat considering the closeness to the woods, making visits of creatures of old an event of high probability. Their witch must be quite skilled, you think as you follow your mother towards the centre of the vale, maybe the witch would be willing to share some of their wisdom with you.  

Luckily, in the house of the village chief, the light is still burning, when you get there and your mother goes in to talk to him about your arrival. You staying outside, the usual anxiety already welling up just thinking of just going in a strangers house and interrupting their evening.

Your cousin will probably come here a few weeks later, knowing him he probably has some sort of dubious undertaking to take care of, so you had all the time you wanted to look through the things granduncle Aspodius had left to you. Twiddling your thumbs, you look out into the dark of night, leaning back against the house. Well it’s not like you need anything, the 5 000 gold they had handed to you in the capital are more than enough.

He probably only left it to you because he felt bad for you, but you won’t complain, it was rather nice receiving multiple years salaries of a high guard all at once. Especially because you did not make much money, mostly being paid in useful items and food.

As you stare at the treeline in the distance, you squint feeling like something is moving. A shiver goes down your spine. Something is definitely there, but does not approach further than the beginning of the barren fields. Probably a ward and an offering at the beginning of the woods to keep the old ones out but still satisfied. Well at least that is what you would have used to secure this location, you think as your mother finally emerges from the chiefs house.

Exhausted, you and your mother finally open the door to the small farmhouse after lazily strolling the rest of the way in almost complete darkness. As inconspicuous as the outside is, the inside is furnished lavishly.

Neither of you has the energy to look at it closer though as you plop down on the sitting area around the fireplace and immediately fall into a deep slumber.

You dream, it’s one of those dreams where you know that it’s not real, but it still instils a bone chilling feeling in you.

You lay in a meadow, as disembodied hands forcefully hold you down, burning your skin. Above you, the blood red sky is adorned by both Moon and Sun, casting their overbearing light, as you thrash your arms and legs to get free. You hear a sickening array of cracks and flesh tearing. There is no air in your lounges, only blood.

Waking up you take a sharp breath, hands lunging to your chest and try to slowly calming yourself down, slumping over and holding yourself.  Looking up, you see a Cup of tea your mother had left there with a little note on the dark wooden table next to the sitting area.

[I will go to the village chief again to talk about the house, please start going through the things in there and make a list of everything you want and while you are at it try cleaning a little. Mom.]

You smile as you look at the small flower she had scribbled on the note the icy afterimage of your dream slowly fading in the dusty warm morning light falling through thin curtains. You take a sip of the tea. It is ice cold and bitter, but you still down it in one swoop.

Still groggy you find the bucket your mother had brought over from the small well and quickly splash your face with a little water. Braiding your hair back to keep it out of your face, you start working.

You soon realize how dirty the inside of this house truly is. Before you had been tired and marvelling at the fine furniture and other trinkets but now in the daylight the thick layer of dust all but sparkles in the light shining through the spotty windows. After a short search you find a storage room, grabbing a rag and starting to widdle over some of the most prominent surfaces. Now and then you take out your notebook and write down a description of a weird Stone or some tincture that still seems potent when you open it. You do not think that you want any of the furniture, bringing it home would be too much of a hassle, even though you truly love the dark green couch in front of the fireplace, never having seen a couch like it before, claws for feet and wooden carvings of plants and beasts around the back.

Going through the rooms you scratch down a few notes until you stop in a short corridor that had been concealed behind a partition you had slightly shoved to the side to have a closer look. The only thing of note here is a barred off door, definitely ominous but also pretty intriguing, you think to yourself as you shove the little leather bound notebook and pen into one of your pockets. Carefully you lift the thick piece of wood out of its holding places on both sides of the door and prop it up against the wall. Opening the door towards the inside of the room you scan its contents, Old furniture, Dusty crates, some broken parts of a distilling mechanism, nothing of note. Your eyes fall on something toppled over on the floor behind the door after realizing that you can’t open it further. You shriek as you see a leg poking out. Nothing happens. Obviously nothing happens, if there was someone in here they’d be long dead… but finding a corpse wasn’t high on the list of things you had imagined finding in these walls. Warily you take a peak around the corner letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding as you notice it’s only a wooden puppet. A naked, strangely big wooden puppet, but a wooden puppet none the less. Kneeling down beside it to look at it closer, you talk to it softly, trying to swallow down the creeping feeling of seeing something human shaped, limp on the flow.  

“Hello there, big guy, what are you doing here?”

Sadly the puppet seems to be somewhat broken, missing an arm below the elbow joint, its legs surface splintering strongly and having parts missing. The blue coat of paint is partly scraped off, a deep colour peeking out beneath. The craftsmanship still seems astonishing.

You roll it over to look at its face, a lightly coloured crescent shape filling up half of it. A wide toothy grin and somehow even more wide glass eyes forming a slightly unsettling expression. A Moon, you deduct. Your eyes sparkle as you realize what this is, looking at the connections of the joints and the flat stone surface on a diamond shape in the middle of its chest. Its an old automaton. Nowadays they are more sleek, more refined, but their structure hasn’t changed that much overall. This is certainly a find! Automatons are mostly used for labour these days but it is not unthinkable to find them in entertainment, some nobles even keep them to care for their children. You prop it up and carry it out of the room almost loosing balance when one of its legs momentary gets stuck in the doorframe. Now in the light of a room with actual windows you sit down again to inspect the lifeless wooden body. Most types of automaton have to be filled with magic to a certain extent to come to life. The stone in the centre of its chest acting as its energy reserve. Now it is a darker greyish colour but if magic is inserted it should begin to glow. You always had a fascination with these constructs. You smile, remembering walking all the way to the next city to look at the automatons brought in by the circus or take a peek at the ones in the red light district, respectfully of course. Expectantly you cup the wooden face looking at the fine mechanisms, peeking out under the movable face plate, that probably make it possible for different expressions to be formed. This I such a fine work. Standing up you look back into the storage room searching for any clothing that might belong to the automaton but find nothing. Weird, normally if they are made to resemble the human shape, more or less, they also come with clothes to keep it more… reserved. Looking back at the body on the floor, you ponder; What would it sound like when it is animated? How would it move? It looks quite nimble… Was it an entertainer? You trail your fingers over the enormous hand.

It is obviously broken now, but would it still work if you started it up? You don’t think they can feel pain the same way living things can… at least that’s what you read in a book you once got your hands on, so the missing arm shouldn’t be a big problem.

Is it a good idea to wake a thing locked away in a small storage without knowing if it even works properly? If there is a good reason its locked away? No. Will you do it? Yes. The intrigue is just too much.

You hoover your hand idly over the stone square on its chest wiggling your fingers lightly, drawing out your magic like a happily bubbling spring. It flows directly into the stone, beginning to shimmer in a swirl of a rich yellow and blue as your whole body tingles warmly. A low humming emerging from the torso of the automaton alerts you to your magic working. Drawing back your hand, you sit in front of the body and wait.

A stirring noise and sudden movement startles you and you fall backwards, trying to escape the collision with an arm shooting up in an energetic stretch. Laying on your back like a tortious, you hear a cheerful voice.

“OH! Hello there, you!!! Who are you, little friend? Are you allowed in here? Oh Oh no, where is my arm? That is new, I used to have more arm. the grand wizard will be mad, so mad! He hates repairing me”

The automaton seems rather anxious, pointing at you with the stump of the missing arm.

A large hand drags you up carefully and sets you on your feet, but doesn’t let you go. Looking up the automaton had completely changed colour from a deep blue to a bright yellow; the moon face had become a sun, through triangles peeking out of its sides, forming stylized Sunbeams. You stare in awe. It stares back with a wild smile.

“Oh, well I need an answer or you will have to be expelled! Oh yes, oh yes, Grand wizard Aspodius is very particular about who is allowed in his house after all! And I think you were the one who broke my arm! There is no one here but you, and it certainly was not me! That’s aaawwwwfully rude!”

You gawk dumbfounded as the automaton drags you a few long strides and softly pushes you out of the front door.

“Well I am sure he will be back in a few hours, so if you want to talk to him you should come back when he is home! Good bye little friend!”

He rotates his head to an inhuman degree and waves while closing the door.

From the inside you hear a sigh and then a squeaking.

“OH.. OH no its so messy in here. How is it so messy? Clean up, clean up!”

Quietly you try to open the door again but find it locked. Well great.

---  

Your mother still laughs after you two walked all the way back, your face is beet red by now.

Cryptic as ever she had refused to say anything about the automaton even though the knowing look she exchanged with the chief had clued you in that she very much had something to say about this.

“I am surprised you don’t remember him. You were running after him nonstop when you were small, Don’t be surprised, he can be a little… overwhelming.”

She smiles encouragingly before knocking on the door.  

The Automaton opens the door. A white apron hastily tied multiple times around it.

“OH! Its you! What a nice visit, but your uncle is not here right now!”

“Hello Attendant. I would appreciate if you would let us in and we could talk for a little.”

Your mother does not wait for an answer and pushes straight-ahead into the living space, dragging you behind her.

“Oho the little friend from earlier! I must say I have quite a bone to pick with you, yes I do!”

The automaton …. The attendant wags his finger at you disapprovingly.

You cringe slightly, you definitely do not like being treated as a kid.

Your mother looks around the Room, beaming. “Ah Attendant you did quite a good job, cleaning the place up in the time it took them to get me…” She turns to look at him and creases her face slightly “Why are you naked under the apron?”

“Ah, Well when I woke up I couldn’t find any of my clothing….” A panicked expression flying over the Attendants face as he pulls the apron tighter around himself. “So this troublemaker belongs to you? I thought they were a lowlife of some sort, my apologies.”

He all but hurls himself into an elegant bow that somehow transitions into a handstand.

You giggle, enjoying the silliness as your mother sits down on the couch.

“Would you two sit down too?” Your mother asked in the way that meant it was an order. Both you and him immediately plop down on either side of her. Everyone who knows your mother, knows not to get on her bad side, as nice and caring as she is, when she is angry her cruelness is only rivalled by the most abhorrent tyrants of old.

“Listen Attendant,” She speaks calmly after a short pause “You must have been out of commission for a while… When was Aspodius here the last time?”

The Attendants rays, that had been turning since he sat down stopped suddenly and then started to turn in the other direction.

“Ah … he is staying here right now! He just left this morning to gather some medical herbs in the woods. Yes,yes!”

You look at your mother, as she lets out a strained huff.

“The village chief said that my uncle hasn’t been here for about 12 or so years… He suddenly left one summer and never returned, only sending some money for repairs on the house”

The Rays of the automaton retract into his head only peeking out a little bit as he stares at your mother with horror.

“What? No! that doesn’t…” His hands press into the couch cushions until you hear a ripping noise. His distress is rather clear and you stand up suddenly, wanting to help, to do something.

Your mother shoots you a look. “Please go through Aspodius’ clothing maybe there is something in there that fits our friend here, was rather big large when he was young afterall” You nod walking away in the direction of the Bedroom. she wants to talk to him without you there, you won’t interfere.

The Closet is heavy but old, the only reason that moths haven’t gorged on the fine fabrics inside is the enchantment on the wood itself, keeping away unwanted critters. You pull out a jacket that looks big enough to cover a sizable amount of the attendant. It has a nice Blue and orange chequered pattern on the wide bodice and poufy sleeves striped in two shades of orange. There are pants of the same design with wide legs. Wizards often wear bright colours in outrageous pattern combinations, and your granduncle had been the most wizardly wizard you had ever laid your eyes on, even though you don’t remember anything else about him. For a second you think of keeping this fun looking clothing for yourself, but it is the biggest size available and this would probably just barely fit the big frame of the Attendant. You sigh and walk back towards the main room were your mother still talks to the automaton in a hushed tone, but barely keeping down. Catching what your mother is saying you stop dead in your tracks almost loosing grip on the fabric you are holding.

“Don’t be like that! The curse will run its course, you will not be able to stop it just like that…. He obviously asked us to come here to find something to do with the curse…..No I don’t know more… why? Oh no you won’t I know you have something to do with it. Don’t you get too close to them, I’m watching you!....Yea of course”

Having heard enough to twist the metaphorical knife into your chest you huff slightly as your hand reaches towards the curse markings on your body. It still bothers you incredibly, that your mother won’t tell you anything about the curse, even if her own knowledge in it is lacking, you still want her to. It can’t be that bad considering the ripe age your great uncle reached, without major problems; it is probably not connected to your life-force. You absentmindedly chew on your lip, a bad habit of yours, before you take a few loud steps and enter the room.

You just want to get out of this situation.

“I’m back, found something that might fit. I will go outside for a little, getting some water and whatever I can find in the garden that we can use for dinner!”

Hurriedly you exit the building and step into the garden outback. Making yourself think of anything else but the curse. You try to empty your head by looking at the plants. Considering how long this garden had to be not attended to by the Attendant it was still quite nice, though you immediately realize that you won’t find anything to eat this early in spring. Squatting down you look at some yellow and purple crocuses sprouting out of the patchy grass.

“There you are beansprout!”

The Attendants voice appears eerily close to your ear. You swirl around, catching yourself from falling by propping yourself up with your hands on the wet ground, ending up sitting like a frog about to leap. All you can manage to bring out, a surprised “Ah” looking up at him. He now wears the clothing you brought him instead of the apron, one of the sleeves flopping around while he gestures to wave.

He chuckles softly, creaking slightly like a loose floorboard.

“I did not recognize you at all! Last time I saw you, you were this small!” He pinched his fingers together.

“Well that’s fine I don’t even remember meeting you before.” You mumble and immediately regret as you see his face slightly drooping. “Ah sorry…” You tag on way to late and look away embraced.

“Well it’s fine! Yea, fine! Little friend. We can just become friends again!”

He bows down and offers you his intact hand, his rays turning slowly. You grab it

“Pleased to meet you, Mister Attendant.” You say in your most refined haughty voice, wiggling your head slightly, imitating the nobles from the big cities.

“The pleasure is all mine!” You could swear the grin on his face widened even more as he curtsies.

____

So here is the first chapter! This is from an early draft were Y/N and the Attendant had met before, Y/Ns family had a bigger role in the story and there was a curse... i changed quite a bit around for the comic part of the au maybe ill write more if i have the time and then they would be like different timelines of the same au

[strqyr]

Puts my hands on the table. I just realized something and I need your thoughts, whenever you get around to this ask

I don't think Oz ever actually tried to destroy Salem. Jinn said he came to that conclusion, but that he "knew he couldn't rid the world of her through any mortal means" (an obvious conclusion, you don't need to try other ways when she was cursed by the gods). So bc of that, he sought out Jinn, and she gave him the answer- "You can't."

There's nothing to imply he ever tried to destroy her if you look at what's being said and how it's being framed. He didn't try before or after, and him wanting her gone seems to be framed as a last resort- and something that he believed was tied to his task. If he couldn't destroy her, he couldn't fulfill his promise, and well... she can't be destroyed, and I don't think Oz is the kind of guy to try anyways, especially since Jinn is a being of knowledge.

The decision to destroy Salem wasn't something he came to lightly and that's pretty clear. If he's told he can't, then he won't try. And since destroying Salem was tied to fulfilling his task in his mind, I think he gave up on his task bc of that.

I think now he has a different reason for not fulfilling his task (whether that's actually agreeing with Salem, or him stalling, etc), especially since I think after that whole. Gestures. Revelation, he went hermit mode for centuries (who wouldn't tbh) and then met the first Maidens who reignited his hope in humanity (he shares a lot of his current view in humanity with Salem, even if he's a bit more cynical than her).

Idk. Gestures. I don't think he ever tried actually destroying Salem, it was a last resort idea he had after his circle was destroyed, and it was shot down immediately by Jinn. I also don't think he ever tried erasing her from history, since there's 2 popular fairytales connected to her and honestly doing so would just be out of character (I have a post explaining my reasoning on that).

yeah, the way the scene is framed with oz, both in past and present after jinn tells him he can't destroy salem, makes it pretty clear to me that that was the end of any attempts at trying to get rid of salem for him..

like, he didn't have a plan beyond that for how to defeat salem; he admits as much when asked. all he had was the relics and a plan to keep them as safe as possible.

the exact timeline of ozma's many lives and what happened when and why are unclear as of yet, but i feel like after his questions to jinn, he mainly focused on lessening the burden on himself—i.e. making the maidens the keys to the vaults—so that all of it doesn't literally hinge on him; not only is one person holding that much power (in terms of possessing all the relics with no one to stop them) a dangerous path to walk, but it also means salem would have to go through only him to get the relics.

if there's any truth to the indecisive king, then i suppose he might have gone through a time when he tried to scramble for more answers / ways to deal with salem, but that would have clearly been another fruitless endeavor, so back to square one it is.

as for what oz has been trying to do re: salem with the fairy tales, i get less "trying to erase her existence" and more "if you see this person, RUN"; the chill don't actually turn the skin of those they possess pale white with red lines snaking across their necks and arms, as well as turning their hair white, but rather it's a detail from another fairy tale about a white witch in the woods that has been conflated with the grimm child because of other striking similarities between the two tales, and ozpin chose to include that version in his book for Obvious Reasons lol

now, one might wonder if there's any need to warn people of a person who looks like a grimm—i would imagine most people on remnant would walk the other way very quickly anyway—but i guess it adds a bit more haste to their step if a grimm capable of possession that is most certainly fatal and body-hopping is added to the mix.

[wandringaesthetic]

Post Bahamut fight, a couple more things

Eikons are like Gundams, I guess. Clive and Joshua can fuse. How bout that classical score for this fight(s), huh? I'm still not sure what to think of the flower. How's this for sheer spectacle, huh? Maybe this is a darling that should have been killed or maybe this is just what this story is. The logical endpoint of taking that Bahamut ZERO materia in VII seriously.

Dion is very much "the hero of a different story." His character and situation bear a great resemblance to Cecil FFIV, but unfortunately Dion is a dragoon, so he has The Curse. Eventually I'll do a whole essay on Final Fantasy dragoons and their ego deaths (the more pure dragoon they are, the worse it seems to be for them), i.e. going through failure and/or loss so profound you have to restructure your identity after. Bonus points if you beg someone to kill you at some point.

(Clive also notably goes through this. Jill also! This being a story high on emotional pain.)

Go berserk in your giant dragon form, killing civilians you have thus far been doing your best to protect, because you murdered your father in an attempt to murder your brother. Who is possessed by some kind of ancient evil, but it's not like anyone ELSE knows that. Then you SUCCEED in murdering your brother and pass out, cackling and covered in blood. This is the guy who has been, up to this point, portrayed as The Paragon.

Good stuff. Love this.

I don't know if Annabella makes a lick of damn sense as a character. It depends on what she knew when and who was whispering in her ear, which is information I don't have atm. I've been trying to figure out her deal the whole game and have a couple of times just thrown up my hands and gone "oh she's just insane." And she kills herself in front of her sons and one of them's response is *shrug* and the other's is "😬 oof." As was earned. (Kinda feel like my WoL watching Zenos off himself). Also, it seems like she didn't age. Or maybe they just didn't want to make another character model for her.

Weirdo statement, but I'm not sure this setting is misogynistic enough for Annabella to make sense as a character. Versus like Cersei in GoT. I'm really getting mixed signals on what the gender politics are here. The vast majority of physical fighters seem to be male, but at least among the common folk, a lot of the "pillars of the community" type characters are women. It's never been clear that women can't inherit &etc. You just don't have the world-building supports for this kind of character and plot, is what I'm saying. You're depending on the audience to assume some things I wouldn't necessarily assume.

I am very intrigued by Sleipnir (I think that's his name, Odin's white haired commander) and have been intrigued by him since the first scene he was in. I am interpreting him as Annabella's counterpart in Ash, but I'm not sure that actually makes sense. Knows something, but not as much as he thinks. Whispering in the king's ear, steering things the way the big bads want to go.

Jill continues to be severely under written. Feel like Martha and Vivian Ninetales are better developed than her. And whenever she and Clive are together they talk about the past, so I'm pretty unconvinced by them as a romance.

Something that is BOTHERING me. Did no one notice or care that things seemed to be worse after we blew up the crystals? Shouldn't things be starting to get more green in the Empire, at least? But no, now we have this eternal overcast and no one has connected the dots that we might have caused it. Are we sure Cid was right??

There has been precedence for this in FF that I could go on a tangent about . I just find it weird that we haven't addressed this in dialogue so far.

I assume we have two more Eikon powers to acquire , because there are two spaces for circles on the ability tree. And that's got to be Odin and Shiva. So either something really fucking sad happens with Shiva, or she's just like "oh, you need the last one? (For as yet undetermined plot reasons) here you go"

I'm intrigued/worried by Barnabas' little erotic vision with Benedikta and Hugo and... His mom? Oh he's that kind of unstable.

Have one Eikon left and like 1/3 of the game left. It's looking like the end of the world out there. Not sure where we're going from here. Let's find out.

Thoughts on FFXVI so far (Jill is awake and she and Clive are on the way to Rosaria) (spoilers to that point)

The game is beautiful. I've been taking a lot of screenshots like "man this pretty"/"man this almost looks real." I saw a few "this looks like a PS3 game" comments from earlier demo/gameplay footage, and I think I understand that, because the zones from the demo (the barren mountains where Titan and Shiva fight and the blighted village) are somewhat empty and have fewer/more muted colors. The story takes place in a dying world, and has the look and lighting of somewhere far north. You can quibble with the aesthetics if you like but not the graphics.

The thing that impresses me most in this generation in graphics is lighting, so. I keep being like "woa" and taking screenshots of water.

There is no minimap, and in "dungeon" zones, no map at all. I like this a lot, because I feel like I stare at the map if it's there instead of the very beautiful pictures in front of me, and I think it's appropriate to feel a little lost and disoriented and nervous about it in, say, the enemy castle you are infiltrating. But I imagine some people will not like this. Areas so far have been fairly linear, though I did get a little turned around in the first forest area (the greatwood?)

Bosses and midbosses are fun and very beautifully animated. Average field enemies feel like a bit of a waste of time and should either be a little easier or a lot tougher. I feel like, with skill, one could absolutely blaze through boss fights, and with either more caution or less skill they're a bit of a slow grinding down. Feel like I'm generally falling somewhere in between on these.

I'm playing on "action" mode and am not using any of the "timely" accessories. I have played some action-y games but am by no means a real pro gamer. I've had to retry some boss fights (when you do this, the game lets you restart the fight with a full inventory of potions (4 potions and 3 hi potions)) but I haven't felt like I've been "stuck" on anything yet. I feel like the "reward" of increasing your skill isn't necessarily just getting through the game (which you can probably do regardless of skill if you just grind at it) but feeling like a bamf as you do.

(there is a kinship with FFVIII in this regard)

I've done....4? Sidequests so far. They are very reminiscent of FFXIV sidequests. Go rescue this girl and grab the supplies she was supposed to gather. Be Valisthea's surliest waiter. Not too exciting but they fulfill what I think is their primary function of fleshing out the world building.

The intuition I had regarding the "bearer" tattoos from the trailers and the demo was that they were magical and either sedated or memory wiped the bearer or somehow made it impossible to escape (need to the spell renewed so often or they kill you or something like that). And it turns out, no, the system of slavery is so ingrained and the odds of being cast out and then hunted down are so high that they don't need to be magical. The mark is enough.

I ALSO thought the bearers were generally POW slaves acquired through conquest and weren't necessarily people who can use magic. THEN I thought they were ALL people who could use magic, but no and no. They are ALL people who can use magic WITHOUT a crystal (excepting dominants, which are special) and Clive was actually a weird cultural exception as the first shield of Rosaria BEFORE he was branded and then fell into the general norm after. Which makes a terrible sense! We do not like what we can't control! Also makes Annabella's weird disgust towards him make more sense!

I think probably part of the reasoning behind that awkward Yoshi-P statement saying "everyone in this game is white because we didn't want it to be about race" is probably BECAUSE slavery is a major plot and world-building thing in a system that in some ways mimics but mostly doesn't real world chattel slavery. Whether making it all be white on white crime is effective or worth it is something I'm going to reserve judgement on for now.

Oh Cid. Cid. What are you doing, Cid? I didn't understand what he wanted at all at first, and now I get the idea that he is good intentioned but has no coherent plan. Free as many bearers as possible and then eventually we'll have a revolution? But you don't want to say that because you're already pretty sure you'll fail. a lot of the people you're freeing are old or infirm you're not exactly forming an army. This is only working because the powers that be are too busy fighting each other to notice you. What are you going to do when they do, Cid? I'm going to do what I think is right until they come kill me and then God can judge me??

I enjoy Cid. He is just some guy who is trying and not at all an inspirational figure.

This game is pretty brutal, huh? I keep thinking about the guy who ended up as a blood spatter under a rock in the first few minutes of the game and the blood pooling under some of Shiva's ice later.

(the ice and the rocks creaking and the subtle controller vibration as you walk through the aftermath of Shiva and Titan's fight really sold the scale and also that this is all about to come crashing down)

I feel it's more tasteful, if you're going to do violence, to have semi-realistic violence rather than bloodless violence. Also I just personally like it. I like bones crunching. I like the post battle blood on your heroes clothes and armor. Enough to be slightly gross but not Dragon Age style ridiculously drenched in blood. Just right.

There are a weird number of surprise lethal axe throws though.

Alas, Benedikta. We hardly knew you. She has a kinship to Yotsuya. I actually wonder if there is a Japanese trope both of them fall under with the long pipe.

None of the soldiers in this game seem to be women. The only women we see fight are Jill and Benedikta, who are both dominants and therefore exceptional. Which... I will reserve judgement on whether that adequately makes sense later. Valisthea is in other ways not a nice place.

I get the idea that the eikons/dominants aren't always passed down via blood. It seems maybe each eikon has its own rules? I wonder if they always have a gender preference for their host.

I like the little overlay arrows showing where you can climb up or under something. It feels like that breaks immersion less so than all Horizon Forbidden West's foot and handholds being yellow, for example. Or all the walls you can run on having a certain texture, or w/e.

The music is good, ofc. Maybe my new favorite main character theme? I have to meditate on it.

Oh, the one huge awkward guy is named Goetz, which is speculated to be what Guts Berserk's name is "supposed" to be. Or Gotz, some Germanic shortening of Gottfried or similar via translation party shenanigans. I don't think this has any significance but it might be a nod. (Which make me wonder whether FFV's Bartz/Butz was supposed to be something like that now. Hmm.) Also I lay like 50% odds he's going to end up as Titan's dominant by the end of the game.

I am also on High Berserk Fan Alert due to the eclipse in the one live action trailer/advertisement.

I have NO IDEA what we're heading for here in terms of overarching plot or what the final showdown is going to be, and since I don't have enough freedom to just dick around in the game I'm getting a little antsy about that. And where's that second time skip gonna land?

(oh man I just happened to encounter the shortened version of that commercial in the wild in the break room on tv FATE WILL FALL that music aaaaaa)

There's a shot in the very beginning of the game that's a Gandalf versus Balrog visual reference and Clive opens double doors by dramatically throwing his arms wide. There are a lot of small details that feel a near copy to Game of Thrones. Clive grows up in the castle with his father's ward who is like a sibling to him. He's second fiddle to his brother. His mother figure hates his face. He has a loyal doggo. He's Aragorn. He's Jon Snow.

I've often thought that the storytelling of FFXIV feels more like doorstopper fantasy novel storytelling than video game storytelling (or movie or tv show storytelling for that matter). FFXVI seems to be continuing that. Opening up the active time lore menu (I love this feature, BTW?) feels like flipping to the glossary.

Alexander O. Smith cites A Song of Ice and Fire as inspiration for the style of Vagrant Story and FFXII. And I'm glad he did, because when I played those games in a world pre Game of Thrones television show, I was like "is anybody else seeing this???" It turns out the Venn diagram overlap of "people who play epic fantasy video games" and "people who read epic fantasy novels" is SURPRISINGLY SMALL. Smith overdoes it but just occasionally, imo. By which I mean, if you use the phrase "mummer's farce" there had best be some fucking mummers in your story. It took a long time for anyone to hit approximately this correct tone in video games again but.

I'm digressing.

ANYWAY. I THINK IT'S INTERESTING THAT WE INITIALLY ADDED THIS FLAVOR IN EX POST FACTO IN THE LOCALIZATION AND NOW WE'RE GOING FOR IT INTENTIONALLY THE WHOLE TIME. Because this was written simultaneously in English and Japanese. I find it interesting that we started by being inspired by the tabletop gaming heirs of fantasy literature and now we're taking after fantasy literature itself.

We're also seeming to go for the Game of Thrones thematic thing where the nobles are squabbling amongst each other when everyone ought to be banding together against the oncoming climate apocalypse.

But we will (most likely. Hopefully.) Be reaching a conclusion in 40-80 hours of action RPG instead of leaving me hanging for the rest of my natural life. And I would be shocked if we have some sort of red wedding situation in the works.

I'm having a good time, overall. Hesitant to quantify how much of a good time at this juncture.

Sometimes I feel like we need to put the F-word privileges back on the shelf for a minute, but mostly the swears are effective.

Oh gosh, I glanced upon this subject in tags, but I do love Clive's post accepting he killed Joshua freakout. And how Cid's all "well, why don't you just track this guy down anyway, and if he wasn't involved THEN you can kill yourself ;D" because it comes right after a moment Clive was standing on a bridge, and there's not any attention drawn to it but you KNOW he's thinking about jumping. And then Torgal bounds up to him and the moment passes.

And Cid's "welp, you're alive so you may as well make yourself useful" attitude is not the BEST but it's also not the WORST, you know?

Anyway, like I said, having a good time. Having a good time having a bad time.

[bowtied-pasta]

All the characters in my canon and what the fuck they’re doing here with some factoids sprinkled in for fun 🎉

This is a very long post… so….

Splendor (Oliver) - Owner of a small but growing candy store and bakery that creates sweets and treats that contain magic and are often incensed with emotions for enders to feed on. His hands were cursed to look the way they do now, hence why he wears the gloves. Has been best friends with Fen since childhood.

True - My self insert oc. She gets to marry Splendor because I simp. 👉👈

Kevin - Splendorman’s proxy. The very first of all of them, he is very much a basement lurker. He’s rarely seen, though he’s basically just a tech guy that gets to live in Splendor’s basement for free as Splendor’s way of apologizing for how Kevin became the way he is.

Nina - Splendorman’s proxy. The newest of all of them, she is also the youngest at 19. She was found roaming around the Veil in the woods by Splendor, who decided to take her in as a proxy when he discovered her prior operator had somehow gone and disappeared. She was one of several proxies that had scattered from the unknown ender’s residence. She now manages the social media page for Splendor’s candy business.

Finley, Gage and Damien - Splendorman’s proxies, but oc’s. I actually use them to display different personality traits of Splendor in more detail in the stages of True and Splendor’s relationship where they aren’t very close at all. 🤷 You may see more of that when I get more fics out.

Fen (Adonis) - Owner of a nightclub that has entrances in each of the realms, but in order to keep the humans out of the loop, only visitors capable of glamour are capable to move about as they please between the different sections connected to each realm. (This mostly only applies to associates of the club anyway, as they’re the only ones with reasons to switch it up.) A stalwart, which means half ender and half incubus. Polyamorous. Has been best friends with Splendor since childhood.

Kagekao - He has no paying job, but he has snatched so many wallets and is so good at stealing that it doesn’t matter. Dating Fen. Comes and goes as he pleases though, and is often very difficult to find unless Fen’s the one looking for him. Knows Fen is polyamorous and doesn’t really care.

Lorelei - Not really a dancer at Fen’s club, more of a soloist that works on her own and takes gigs where she likes. Animalistic (cat)/succubus. Not “dating” Fen, but a relationship in the sheets is definitely happening. Knows Fen is polyamorous, and is really only interested in more “open relationships” herself.

Trender (David) - True’s (whole lot of greats) great grandfather. He is… very old. Was exiled from the Veil a long time ago, having broken the law by unintentionally impregnating a proxy. He closely monitored the bloodline when the child was born, but lost track after several generation showing no signs of any abilities. He is currently a very successful designer.

Jocelyn - Shadow/Shifter demon that works for Trender, sometimes as a model and rarely as a secretary. Closely enough that she would ordinarily be labeled a proxy, but since Trender has been exiled, he rarely cares enough to follow traditional rules regarding work partners that are “below him.”

Zalgo - King of the Abyss (the underworld). Governs over all of the Abyss, though will often leave actual law making up to a very diligently and carefully chosen group of delegates, but every law written goes through him before it’s approved. Blah blah blah, he actually gets to fuck around a lot and is basically only there to sign papers and look official so the grumpy old delegates don’t have to.

Dark Link (Erembour) - Zalgo’s main guard and lover, not that it’s a publicly announced thing, but it’s also not like they’re doing much work to keep it a secret. A shadow demon. One of very few demons trained on the ability to destroy a soul.

E. Jack - Zalgo’s medic, otherwise known as the royal medic. Animalistic (wolf) demon. His “demon puberty” hit a few years into college, forcing him to disappear. After several years of causing chaos in the form of organ theft, Dark was sent after him and brought him to Zalgo.

Dina - Zalgo’s judge, also known as the royal judge. Abrahamic demon. Her father was an abrahamic demon, but seeing as these things are genetic, she became one too. Her abilities made her perfect for being a judge, as she can tell with 100% accuracy if someone is telling a lie. She was found by Dark after she had raised a lot of chaos and drawn a lot of attention.

Tenderman - Slenderman’s younger brother. Lives alone in a comfortably reserved home. Not many know, but he’s versed in dark magic, as well as some other more friendly things. Has not ever taken proxies and never will.

Slenderman - Tenderman’s older brother. Runs a small and secretive hit man for hire business, but otherwise runs an also very secretive dark magic side gig. A lot of what he does is illegal and the only reason he gets away with it is because the elders all love him for how traditional he acts.

Jeff, Jane, Ben and Toby - Slenderman’s proxies that run errands and complete tasks and missions for him.

Phosphorus - The older twin. Feeds on serotonin, the happy chemical in the brain. He manages the day shift at the fairgrounds for this reason, as it allows him to more effectively feed on the reactions of the patrons.

Hesperus - The younger twin. Feeds on cortisol, the fear and anxiety chemical in the brain. He manages the night shift at the fairgrounds for this reason, as it allows him to more effectively feed on the reactions of the patrons.

Laughing Jack, Helen and The Puppeteer - associates at the twins’ fairgrounds. LJ during the night shift, Helen during the day shift, and Pup switches it up from time to time.

Kat - Singer/Idol in the Abyss. As a shifter demon, she is able to perform sets of stars that most demons are not able to go and see for themselves, as they lack the ability to glamour themselves.

Tim and Brian - Cryptid/monster hunters. Theyre life was effected horribly by an ender and they set out to hunt him down, only to find the operator was not the only one of it’s kind.

[goldentsum]

— made to be together.

PAIRING: adopted father! sakusa x adopted daughter! reader; sakusa x mentioned wife (beginning)

GENRE: smut, dark content

WORD COUNT: 5.3k

SUMMARY: after trying so hard to get his wife pregnant so many times, sakusa is done and coming to the conclusion that his wife would never give him children. already fed up with trying and getting his hopes up, the two decided to adopt a child to avoid getting disappointed again. in the midst of searching for a daughter, he didn’t expect to find a sweet little thing he won’t be able to resist.

WARNING: pseudo-incest, age-gap (10+), smut, dark themes, unhealthy relationships, daddy kink, manipulative tendencies, implied miscarriages, creepy and asshole! sakusa, cheating, unprotected.sex, .dubcon, virginity loss, delusional! reader, narcissistic! sakusa, 17-18 years old! reader at the beginning but then turns 18+ when smut is happening

AUTHOR’S NOTE: MERRY CHRISTMAS HOES! tis a present from me~ first dark content fic and my first long fic after 2-3 months of hiatus! but i’m still excited! if you don’t like content like this just ignore this then. DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE A MINOR OR UNCOMFORTABLE WITH DARK THEMES. if you don’t like content like this, just block the tag tw.darkcontent,, READ WITH CAUTION!

REMINDER: this is not love and i do not condone this type of behavior. be smart on the internet. if you don’t like it just click away, no need to hate. you are responsible for your time on the internet.

“shit” sakusa cursed as he sat on the bed, hands running up and down his face in stress and anger. his wife bit her lip at the sight of her husband getting angry. she called out with her small voice, trying to lighten up the mood and chirped. “w-we can try again, yoomi.. we have all the time in the world-” 

sakusa stood up, his beautiful wife’s words trailing off. he looked at her with a scowl, “and how many times more do we need to keep trying? it’s your fault, for fucks sake. always fucking it up and losing the damn child.” the glare on his dark eyes was enough to shut the timid woman up. sakusa saw how she was trying to make herself small in the large king size bed and scoffed. 

he then exited to go to the connected bathroom in their bedroom, leaving his wife with her self-destructive thoughts as she blamed herself for always stressing her husband out. it was her fault that the man was angry and sakusa makes sure she knows that. it was her fault that she can’t get pregnant. all of those time trying and money spent for vacations wasted because she can’t even do what normal women do. 

quickly wiping the pesky tears that run down her soft cheeks not wanting her husband to see it because she knows how sakusa doesn’t like it when she plays the victim. 

sakusa washed his hands on the sink, gritting his teeth in irritation. shutting the running water off and quickly wiping his hands on a clean towel he puts on the sink, he stared at his reflection. dark eyes trailed down his features. 

it wasn’t his fault. it was his wife’s. he is a capable man. he can do anything. he is not at fault here. how can he be? he’s perfect. he’s handsome. he’s rich. athletic. at his prime and can do anything his mind tells him to. 

“w-we can try other things...” sakusa heard his wife’s timid voice call out. his wife, such a delicate woman. a pathetic one too at that. 

the man rolled his eyes and moved to enter their shared room again. “what other things, misa?” 

the woman tried to smile, but her lips were too wobbly and shaky. “we can always a-adopt, right?” 

sakusa scowled at the suggestion. adopt? raise another man’s child? what kind of bullshit was that. that was the stupidest thing his wife ever came up with and that’s saying something. 

“i-i know what you’re t-thinking.. but uhm.. we can always just look around and see if you like them?” misa trailed off, her voice scared and small when sakusa only continued to stare down at her. 

“fine.” 

this is stupid and a waste of time. why is he even here? in this place filled with vermin and shitty things? oh that’s right. because of his wife, who’s stupid enough to suggest they go to an orphanage. 

dark eyes glared at the children playing on the courtyard. hate and shame filled sakusa’s being. why can’t he just have children of his own. tsk, of course the woman he chose to be with has to be utterly useless. sakusa scoffed at his thoughts and followed his wife. she was quite excited if he guessed correctly. her soft eyes observed the dirty children around them. 

“hello, welcome! welcome! come in” an old woman greeted them by the door, her smile wide and happy. the couple entered the large building much to sakusa’s dismay. 

“thank you so much for having us” sakusa heard misa said softly in front of him as he looked around the place and grunted in disgust when he saw the dusty windows. it was a good thing that he always wears a mask, other people are too inadequate to be trusted and they can’t even clean the damn place right. 

the headmistress smiled at the lovely woman in front of her then turned her gaze to the tall stoic man behind her. the two were in their separate world while the man ignored them. 

the older woman chuckled wearily making misa copy her in nervousness. the woman then toured them around the building, introducing little kids that might capture their attention but sakusa couldn’t care less. they won’t be adopting. he won’t take a little vermin into his house only for them to disturb his safe place.

sakusa grunted in boredom, making his wife’s attention snap to him. wide nervous and questioning eyes stared up at him. 

“i’m going to stay in the car.” he grumbled and walked away, leaving misa with the headmistress, not even waiting for her response. 

he left the building, the noise inside now was a muffled sound making him sigh in relief and irritation. sakusa climbed down the stairs of the porch, rolling his shoulders and groaned when his joints cracked satisfyingly. when he reached the bottom, he looked around and realized that it wasn’t where he parked his car. 

“for fuck’s sake.” cursing under his breath, he was about to go back inside when he noticed something or someone at the corner of his eye. 

he stood there in awe, looking at the most beautiful creature he has ever saw. you sat on the bench in the garden while flowers and trees accompanied you. you looked so picturesque and ethereal with your long (h/c) hair down in a braid on your shoulder and your white prim and immaculate dress. 

sakusa continued to look at you, loving the contrasting moment with you and the building where he hears the muffled noises inside. with you, it was quiet, peaceful. 

the man snapped out of it, scolding himself for ogling at a young girl. that was a new low and sakusa kiyoomi does not do low. he wasn’t the type of guy who’s creepy and fucking disgusting. he was above that. 

sakusa scowled and moved to enter the building again but then the door opened and in came into view was his wife and the headmistress. his wife stared at him in shock but quickly replaced it with a soft smile.

“yoomi... good timing, the headmistress was just going to introduce me to someone” his wife said, sliding down a hand to grasped his making him cringe in disgust but his wife was already used to that. 

the headmistress cleared her throat, seeing the awkward interaction, and smiled at the couple then to the garden where you were sitting at as you read. 

“(y/n) dear? where are you? i would like you to meet someone” the older woman called out and sakusa saw you perk up from your seat and smile at the headmistress. 

when you smiled, it felt like you just knocked the air out of his lungs and all he could think of is how to make you smile again, this time directed at him. 

you walked ever so gracefully and stopped when you were just merely a couple of feet away from him. from this distance, sakusa could smell the fresh scent of flowers that followed you. 

“dear, this is mr. and mrs. sakusa, they’re here to look for a child” the headmistress cooed at you while you smiled at her then turned to the couple, greeting them like the good girl you are. 

“hello, mr. and mrs. sakusa. i hope you’ve been successful in your search” your voice was a melodic chime, a sweet and alluring call like a siren, pulling him closer and closer. 

your big doe eyes then locked with dark ones. sakusa didn’t realize how beautiful the color (e/c) was until he saw it in your eyes. he just found his new favorite color. 

“the headmistress told me so much about you, (y/n). and i do hope it is successful as well” his wife giggled softly, looking at you. 

the older woman smiled at the couple and then turned to you, “go on, dear. go to your room” 

you raised a brow at that when you heard the line the headmistress uses when the children are about to get adopted. confused but also happy, you nodded and bid the couple goodbye. 

when you were out of sight, the headmistress then asked, “what do you think of (y/n)? she’s very smart. she’s a well-mannered girl and she helps the church” 

sakusa furrowed his brows in confusion then looked to his smiling wife who was quick to explain, “i suggested to the headmistress that it would be nicer to have an older child” 

“an older child...” 

the headmistress then cut in, seeing the tension that was rising between the couple, “an older child might be better, sir. mrs. sakusa told me that you and her have a very busy schedule” 

his wife nodded and smiled at the headmistress, “she’s perfect...” the older woman nodded as well, smiling brightly and bid them a small farewell to relay the news to you. 

“what the hell are you thinking, misa? have you gone crazy” sakusa glowered at his wife making her flinch. 

“i-... i want her yoomi! she’s perfect, isn’t she? and with o-our busy schedule, she can fit right in” misa argued, she really needed the company. 

sakusa always leaves her alone and when he does get home, all he does is belittle her. reminding her of her shortcomings as a wife, as a person... she needed someone... someone who can be her safe haven.

you sat inside the car, looking out of the window, happy that you were finally adopted. in the midst of your happy thoughts, you didn’t notice the constant shifting gaze to you by your new dad on the rear view mirror. 

misa turned to you from the passenger seat with a smile, “i’m so happy that you’re here, (y/n).” 

you smiled back at your new mom and nodded, “i’m very happy as well” 

the beautiful woman grinned at you and nodded back then sat normally again, humming a cheery tune under her breath. sakusa shifted his eyes again on the mirror to look at you. suppressing the shiver that ran down his spine when you caught him staring as you smiled at him, he ignored you and looked back to the road again. 

you let your smile fall when you saw the cold reaction the man gave you but quickly shrugged it off and looked back again to the window to watch the buildings go by. 

when you finally arrived at your new home, you gaped at the huge house. clearly, your new parents are rich. filthy rich at that. misa giggled at your expression making you snap out of your thoughts as you looked away in embarrassment at being caught while sakusa scoffed and exited the car, leaving you and misa alone. 

misa frowned at her husband but quickly smiled back at you, reassuringly, “don’t worry, (y/n)... your new daddy... he’s just a bit reserved and quiet...” 

you knew for sure that the man hated you or something. well, maybe hate is a strong word but you’re sure that he doesn’t like you. you nodded at misa with a small smile. 

“let’s go, sweetie?” misa exited the car as well making you follow her. you gaped at the sheer size of the house as some people went out of the house, greeting your new dad that ignored them and went to the car to get your things. 

you were about to help them but your mom quickly held your hand. misa smiled at you and led you inside, “it’s okay, sweetie. let’s just get you settled in, okay?” 

still a little awkward, you nodded and followed misa. your new home was stunning. it was spectacular! you knew you were lucky enough to get adopted at your age but adopted by a family that’s rich? it was amazing!

misa led you to your room as you looked at the large room in awe, admiring it. the beautiful woman giggled at you. you were like a breath of fresh air to her. it was always so silent, filled with tense atmosphere in the house but with you and your innocent energy, it was like she was in a different world now. 

“i guess you like it, sweetie?” 

you turned back to her and nodded with a huge smile, “it’s beautiful, miss. thank you”

misa pouted at your words making you think you have said something offensive, “miss? you can call me mom! i’m your mommy now after all!” her tone was youthful and happy. 

you nodded, “thank you, mommy” 

misa glowed at your words, eyes getting teary. you tried to go closer to her, worried but the beautiful woman only smiled at you and held the door, “i’ll let you settle in, sweetie. call me if you need something, okay? kiyoomi’s and my room is just around the corner” and then she shut the door. 

you smiled at the door, remembering your new mom. she must’ve been lonely. her eyes showed so much emotions. 

the couple was very busy, now you know why they didn’t adopt a younger child. also your mom was an absolute sweetheart. she was busy with her job but she always tried to make time for you. you two always bonded when she gets home. even though you can see that she was very tired, she always talked to you before going to bed. 

your mom was lonely. your daddy wasn’t home at all. you barely even see him and when you do see him, he never really acknowledges you. like that one time you greeted him on the way to the kitchen. 

you were going down the stairs and saw your daddy going up, to clean up you guessed. you smiled at him when he noticed you and chirped happily at him, “good morning, daddy!” 

the only response you got was a sharp inhale and then he was out of sight. you frowned at his cold response but you didn’t mind. your mommy said that it was quite normal and it takes time for your daddy to warm up to someone. 

but it has already been years since then and the only real conversation you had with him was when you asked if he could drive you to school because your usual driver was sick. 

you tried everything to make him like you. it was weird. you didn’t know why you want to be closer to him. you want him to look at you. his dark eyes locked with yours. you want to feel him. and it was making you feel sick with how desperate you are for the older man. it wasn’t right but you just couldn’t help it. the way he looked at you made you felt needed.

for the past years, sakusa was being tortured by his own mind. the sound of your voice follows him wherever he goes. your scent stuck on his skin when you hug him goodbye. your presence was like a ghost, haunting him. taunting him. 

he’s really trying to keep these feelings at bay but as years go by, you are starting to grow into a fine young woman. more curves appearing in your body, an alluring slope as your hips grew that sakusa desperately wanted to grip. thick thighs that was usually covered by thigh highs. lips so plump and red. 

everything about you was so perfect that it made sakusa want you more than ever. he wants you to want him too. he wants you to depend on him. call him with that soft teasing voice as you cry out the fucking name that makes him tick every time, “daddy~” 

sakusa groaned at his thoughts and held his head in his hands as he sat on the bed. you two were alone in this huge ass house. misa was out for a week because of her job and the thought of being alone with you makes him jumpy and his emotions in a messy whirlpool of madness. 

thoughts of how he can just fuck you right now makes his cock twitch in his sweats. 

he sighed in irritation, trying to think of something else because if he keeps this up he’ll only make himself horny and bothered and that doesn’t sound very enjoyable. 

a knock caught his attention. he looked at the door with a frown and answered, “who is it?” 

“it’s me, daddy” 

for fuck’s sake. why can’t you just leave him alone? if you keep this up, sakusa won’t be able to keep his emotions at bay and might do something that’s frowned upon by society. 

“what is it” 

the door opened and you stood by the door, your glossed red lips curled into a shy smile. sakusa’s dark eyes trailed down to your body, you’re just so beautiful he can’t help himself. a thin singlet and short shorts hugged your gorgeous figure.

you are a goddess incarnate in his eyes. so immaculate. you were calling out to him like the snake in the garden of eden, tempting him to just bite the forbidden fruit already.

“-dy? daddy? are you okay?” sakusa’s eyes snapped back to your face. you looked worried. he sighed tiredly and nodded.

“do you need something?” 

you bit your lips in nervousness, his eyes watching the action. you hugged your figure, not knowing how to say what you had in mind. 

“u-uhm... i just thought that maybe we can eat together...--” you trailed off, looking at him, anticipating his reaction. 

the man made you nervous that was a fact but you would be lying if you said he wasn’t attractive. and that small little fact made you guilty and confused about why you felt like that for him. he was your dad for fuck’s sakes! yes, not really biologically but still your ‘dad’

you were ashamed that you thought of him that way. you can’t even consider him as your father. and every time you call him “daddy” it makes you shy. staring at him, you bite your lip as you wait for his response. 

sakusa grunted and nodded, standing up as he walked towards you. the unwavering gaze he had upon you made a shiver run down your spine. you looked up at him through your lashes, fluttering those pretty eyes up at him. 

that was the final straw! sakusa can’t keep this up! he has to have you and what better time to have you than now. you two were alone and you look so fuckable as always.

he gluped when he stopped right in front of you, so close. you two were just a breath away. your eyes drifted to his lips for a moment but quickly returned to his eyes, feeling the shame rise inside you when you realized what you did.

the older man wanted to coo at you when he saw the embarrassment that crossed your face. he wanted to tell you that it was okay. you can need him. you can want him all you want. hell, he preferred it. now that he saw the small action, he can’t help himself now. he can’t pass this opportunity.

“what’s wrong, sweetie?” he whispered, you shivered when you felt his minty and warm breath hit your lips. you stuttered at the nickname and guilt rise in you as you heard the same name your mommy calls you. 

“n-nothing, daddy...”

“you can tell me, (y/n). it’ll be just between us, don’t worry. i won’t tell a soul” the low seductive voice of your daddy made you clenched at nothing as heat spread across your cheeks. 

“i-.. i uhm..” you continued to stutter. sakusa hummed in amusement at your obvious awkwardness, a small smirk growing in his pink lips.

“do you want daddy?” he whispered, leaning closer to you as your noses touched and your lips barely grazed each other but it was enough to get you excited. sakusa could feel your breath hitching as he does so. 

your eyes turned half-lidded and you pouted in embarrassment, lips curled in such an alluring way. 

“c-can i have daddy?” 

sakusa’s heart started beating rapidly inside his ribcage, this was so new for him. he never felt like this before, not even with his wife. you have such an effect on him, it was scary. 

“you can have daddy anytime, sweetheart” he grunted, tongue swiping against his bottom lip to wet it as he watched you lean closer, slowly standing on your tippy toes.

sakusa groaned at your slow movements and quickly leaned closer, kissing you with ferocity. his large hands gripped your hips, maneuvering you inside the bedroom as he slammed you against the wooden door. you gasped at the pain but it quickly faded into pleasure. 

he groaned into your lips, taking advantage of your open mouth to slither in his tongue into your mouth. you moaned when he started licking and playing with your wet muscle. you unconsciously grinded against him, searching for friction. sakusa moaned into the messy kiss when your clothed heat grazed against his hard cock. 

his hands drifted down to your thighs, squeezing and kneading it. the heat of his palms was so distinct. he then gripped your thighs, carrying you up. you squealed at the sudden movement and quickly wrapped your arms and legs around him. in that new position, your clothed pussy was directly against his member. 

you gasped at the feeling of sakusa’s dick twitching against you. the male groaned and started kissing down your neck, your arms tightening around his neck. the overwhelming feeling of his lips trailing hot wet kisses against your sensitive neck and his constant grinding of his cock against you was too much. 

your moans spilling out your pretty red lips as you tried to match your daddy’s grinding. sakusa’s breath heavy against you, it was all too much for him. you were finally in his arms, moaning like the pretty slut that you are. sakusa could feel your wetness sipping through the thin cloth of your shorts. 

he removed you from the door and carried you to the bed as his body covered yours. leaning against one of his arm while one hand groped your chest, his large hand slowly slithered down and in your singlet and caressed your stomach, savoring every skin until he reached your bra. 

he continued to litter your pretty and sensitive neck with his marks, humming in satisfaction when he sees your neck covered with bite marks. you whined when his hips stopped moving against you for a moment. sakusa leaned back a bit to look at you. his breath hitched when he saw you. you were such a sight to see. 

your eyes heavy and dark with lust, chest heaving with every pant. your singlet was raised up to expose your smooth stomach. your lips were red and a little swollen as your red gloss was smeared across your chin and lips. 

“you’re such a sight, sweetheart,” sakusa praised, making you whine as your hips bucked

“my pretty baby” he muttered then he captured your lips again, biting your bottom lip and quickly soothed it with his tongue. 

“d-daddy, i need you...” you whimpered through the kiss, your words muffled with sakusa’s lips against yours. 

“don’t worry your pretty little head... daddy will take care of you” 

his hand then trailed down, leaving your boobs. he tipped down to your shorts and in your panties, grazing your mound as you gasped against his lips. 

“so wet... is that all for daddy?” 

you cried out at the unfamiliar feeling when sakusa massaged your clit. the older man’s hissed at the wetness, his self-control slowly threatening to snap. 

“have you touched yourself before, princess?” 

your eyes widened at his question but shook your head no, embarrassed by it. your hands gripped sakusa’s shoulder when he started massaging your clit faster, gasping at the pleasure coursing through you. 

“you’re so cute, (y/n)” he muttered, watching your virgin body already shaking at such light actions. 

sakusa’s hand left your shorts making you whine at the loss of pleasure but was quickly followed by a welp when the man removed your shorts, your body getting tugged along at his aggressive action. 

you lowered your gaze and clenched your thighs together, trying to hide from your daddy’s intense gaze. sakusa clicked his tongue and gripped your thigh, “let daddy see you, pretty girl” 

you slowly let your legs open, your embarrassment worsening when you felt the air nipping at your skin. sakusa admired your wet pussy out in display just for him. his fingers touched your wetness ever so slightly but even that makes you gasp. 

“so beautiful...” you heard your daddy whisper making your heart full that he finds you attractive. sakusa wet his fingers with your arousal, caressing the clenching hole but never really prodding inside. 

you watched sakusa between your legs, biting your lips when you saw the prominent tent on his grey sweats. you let your head hit back against the pillows, trying to control your breathing as your nervousness slowly got to you. 

“that’s good, baby. relax for daddy. my pretty girl is so smart” 

sakusa groaned when he finally sunk one finger inside you as he watched you whimper while your hips buckled against him. “so wet and tight...” 

he watched you get lost at the feeling of his finger pumping in and out of you. his gaze then went back to your cunt and his finger, seeing the thin string on his finger that connected him and your pussy. sakusa groaned and leaned down, capturing your neglected clit in his mouth. 

you cried at that, looking down at sakusa. your eyes locked as he fingered you and his tongue flicking against your clit. you moaned, your eyes rolling back into your skull as you threw your head back when he hit the spongy spot inside of you. he hummed in satisfaction making you shiver at the vibration as he added another finger. 

the older male watched your body writhe because of his ministration, finding it so alluring and seductive when you arched your back so prettily when he kept hitting your g-spot. he sucked on your clit, his tongue massaging it. the rising of pleasure was too much for you and the feeling of something threatening to snap in your stomach made you teary. you cried, hips moving frantically chasing the pleasure given to you. the clenching of your pussy against sakusa’s fingers was the sign that you were close. so deliciously close. his movements quickened at that, wanting you to cum for him. the sound of your wetness was embarrassingly loud and sakusa’s constant smacking as he ate you out messily was getting you closer than you want to admit. 

the unfamiliar feeling of the intense pleasure made you close your eyes, loud moans escaping you. the constant flicking of his tongue finally pushing you to the edge as you cum. loud whimpers and whines escaped you as sakusa rode your orgasm for you, moaning against you when he felt your cum sticking to his fingers, trailing down to your ass. 

he released your sensitive clit, swiping a last lick on to it, and his fingers moved away from you, the wetness made his fingers glossy. you panted on the bed, the sensitivity of coming for the first time still in your system. sakusa smiled down at you and kissed you. you whined when his hard cock nudged your sensitive pussy. 

“will you let daddy fuck you, princess?” 

you moaned softly at his dirty words and nodded tiredly, opening your legs like the good girl you are. sakusa’s eyes turned dark and removed his hard cock out of his sweats. you gaped at the size and closed your eyes with a hiss when he grinded against your still sensitive cunt. you looked up at him with a pout and grasped his tight t-shirt. 

“w-wanna see daddy too” you muttered with a pout, tugging at his clothes. sakusa smirked and nodded, removing every piece of cloth in his body until he was nude. your eyes trailed up and down his body, trying to memorize every feature. hands going to his body, caressing his skin. 

“you’re p-pretty too, daddy” you whispered shyly, smiling at him. sakusa didn’t reply but only moved closer to you, letting his nose graze your cheek, nuzzling into you. you giggled softly at his affection. you guessed that this was his way of showing his love.

“ready for me, baby?” he asked as you nod, grasping unto his shoulders. sakusa lined his hard cock against your wet cunt, slowly nudging forward. he hissed at the feeling of your tight and wet pussy clenching around him. 

you felt divine. so good. so wet and warm. and you’re all his. 

you gasped at the feeling, it was so much larger than his fingers but the stretch was addicting enough. you moaned when your daddy kept going in. you panted, tongue lolling out when he finally bottomed out. you felt so full. 

sakusa grabbed your hips, moaning beside your ear. he waited for you to adjust to the feeling of his cock and when you grinded back, he knew you were ready. 

he started slowly, savoring the feeling of your walls dragging against his thick cock, your wetness sticking on him. sakusa then groaned when the pleasure started getting intense, chasing the high of it. 

your nails made crescent marks on his skin, moaning loudly at the feeling of the constant pumping of his large cock inside of you. the tip of his cock nudging your cervix, so deep inside of you. 

you choked on a moan when he hit your g-spot again, the sensitivity was making you tear up whilst sakusa leaned back, watching your body tremble at his mercy. he watched your pussy suck him back in every time, your cum decorating his cock with strings. 

he fucks you with intent, loving the way your boobs bounce to the way he fucks you hard. your pretty mouth open, letting strings of loud moans out, whilst a thin line of drool escaped to your chin. eyes almost getting crossed eye with how good he’s fucking you. 

“you like that, baby? you like the way daddy fucks you dumb?” you could only cry out, incoherent mutters and cries was the only thing sakusa heard from you. 

the man groaned when he felt his release coming way sooner than he expected. the way you were clenching around him was almost enough to send him over but he doesn’t wanna cum before you cum again. 

sneaking his hand on your pussy, he started rubbing your clit with rough circles. you sobbed at the intensity. your legs shaking around sakusa’s hips as he grinded against you harder. 

“fuck, you’re g-gonna make me cum...” he cursed, his rhythm getting sloppier as he chased his high. 

your moans gotten louder at that as sakusa smirked when he felt your pussy clenching around his cock, “you like that? you want daddy’s cum inside you?

fucked out from your daddy’s thrusts, you could only arch so beautifully for him. your position making it easier for sakusa to hit deeper inside you.

“cum for me, princess. cum for daddy” sakusa groaned, hand frantically rubbing your clit pushing you to another orgasm. you sobbed when you felt your second orgasm rushing into your system, eyes rolling back to your head while your pussy milked sakusa’s cock, making him paint your insides with thick ropes of white. your body jerking violently against his at the feeling of the intense climax.

the man growled and it trailed into harsh moans, his hips rolling against you as he rode yours and his climax. 

the room was filled with harsh and loud pants as you two climbed down from your highs. you gulped, throat dry and sore from all the screaming you did. your thighs trembled around sakusa’s hips. he slowly let your legs down and lay down beside you, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you closer to him. his strong chest against your slender back.

you moaned when you felt the soreness kicking in but cuddled back to him, touching and caressing his arm that was thrown over you. you hummed, satisfied, when you felt his cum dribbled out of you. it was his love inside of you.

sakusa’s heart was full. you were finally his. finally in his arms and he’ll be a fool to let you go. he’ll get rid of the older hag after this, he has no need for her anymore now that you were beside him..

he won’t share you with anyone. you are his. only his. and anyone who gets between you two will suffer the consequences. sakusa guarantees it. his dark eyes trailed down to your body, admiring your bruised skin. 

“are you okay, sweetheart?” you heard him asked quietly behind you. you smiled and nodded, leaning your head back. 

“i am...” 

sakusa hummed, sleepiness coming over him. his hand touching your stomach where his cock was bulging out earlier.

“w-will daddy be here with me when i wake up?” 

“i’ll always be with you, princess. i love you... now sleep” 

you bit down a huge grin on your lips, listening to sakusa’s breaths that started to get even signaling that he has fallen asleep. your daddy loves you. no one ever said that. no one ever treated you like him. it was a nice change from all the times you were alone in the orphanage. 

the moment felt warm and gentle like it was a moment shared by a couple who loves each other deeply. you hummed a soft sleepy tune, your hand caressing his arm to his hand. 

your warm and soft moment came crashing down when your hand touched a cold metal on his finger. your (e/c) eyes trailed down and stared down at the ring that was glistening as the light hit it, heart thumping in shame and guilt when reality hit you like a wave. 

that’s right. he’s married and he’s your “daddy”. 

[opalsdarkreadings]

✰𝙅𝙪𝙟𝙪𝙩𝙨𝙪 𝙆𝙖𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙣 𝙢𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙛𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙎/𝙊. 𝘽𝙤𝙣𝙪𝙨: 𝙎𝙪𝙠𝙪𝙣𝙖 𝙍𝙮𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙣✰

Pairing: Gojo, Yuji, Fushiguro, Nobara, Sukuna x gender neutral reader

Warning: angst, depression themes, mentions of blood

Notes: I love the smell of saddens and crying in the morining, great starter of the days. lol I hope you all enjoy, there’ll be some grammical errors so please just ignore and I’ll try to fix them when I spot them. And I’m addicted to this series and characters so I’ll be releasing a bunch of others stuff regarding this show soon.

✵𝗴𝗼𝗷𝗼 𝘀𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘂✵

You were going to get up, you always did. The two inseparable prankster would be back at it agian like always. Like old times. You....you were fine

But the pit of his stomach twist and churn, his heart aching with a new found sense of despair. He knew, so why didn’t he just accepted it.

NO! You were going to get up, you just liked to joke around that’s all. So why did he feel a surge of rage so deep, so painful that ach his very core. Even destroying the special grade left nothing but dissatisfaction.

For the first time in his life he felt... hesitant.

Your body unmoving from the blow dealt by the curse demon. The curse being dealt with in seconds afterwards. The stillness felt eery, his heart pounding against his chest as he makes his way to you unmoving body

He crouch and pulled the slik blind off his face, beautiful bright blue eyes scanning over you body. Sadness being reflected in them but he kept that signiature smile of his

“S/o...can you still move?” He asked hoping, silently praying you could at least answer him.

...nothing.

“Cutie-chan~ quit playing around...get up so we can go home....” the weak laugh that left his lips felt more like whimper, as you continue to not answer him.

He doesn’t even know why he’s trying, he should be use to it. He’s lost thousands of friends in battle, time and time agian. One of his students wouldn’t come back, a coworker that didn’t make it, a close friends that died tragically. He’s heard it all.

So why did it hurt so much?...

Droplets fell over you color ridden cheek, you body being lifted into a broad chest. As Satoru buried his face into the crook of your neck, that awful perfume he hate infiltrating his nose, a choked laught left him.

“God I hate that perfum..”

That smile of yours as bright as the evening star, flooded his mind, your words ringing out as he cradled your dead body.

“I know you do, but you still love me~.”

✵𝘆𝘂𝗷𝗶 𝗶𝘁𝗮𝗱𝗼𝗿𝗶✵

That face, you always made that face whenever you did something stupid. Honestly, he couldn’t talk much, seeing on half the crap he’s done was on impulse, however...god you were an idiot.

You Could’ve lived, left him there on the cool slab of the concrete, the beast that was too far over their heads coming his way. He could’ve handled it, Sukuna was a stubborn bastard, but wouldn’t let him die.

You were and utter fool and he cursed about it to this day.

But it all felt like slow motion, the pounding of your footsteps hitting against the ground, his weak shouts trying to get you to go back. The drop in his stomach as that sickening crack echoed out the domain.

There was so much blood, the walls were splattered with it, the floor painted a sea of red, your body nothing more than crushed remembrance of what it used to be.

He’s never felt such a feeling of rage so strong before. All his actions a blur until late on. When he’s bound by a cursed rope and set aside near the school where the cursed demon was located.

A stretcher hauling, what’s once was your body. Your hand peeking out from under the blood covers. That’s all it took for him to lose it.

The rope keeping his struggling body from moving as he sobbed hysterically.

“S/O! S/O! Answer me please..please! Why would you do that?! You’re such an idiot damnit, don’t you dare leave me...you promised.” He fell over the harsh ground, tears cascading down from his cheek to the floor.

Fushiguro and Nobara gazes lowered to the ground. Effectively trying to hold back their friend as your body was carried off.

His sobs turning into quiet whimpers. It dawned on him, he’s was official alone now. You and his Grampa being taken from him unfairly. He had no one, you would never smiles at him agian

Slap his head whenever he got a little to handsy or tease Him relentless when he slipped up and blurtted out random things

Your sweet laugh would be distance memory of the past, something that made his heart squeeze with hurt.

“That’s no fair...it’s not fair.” He mumbles soflty to himself

Sukuna for once, was eerily silent.

✵𝗳𝘂𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗴𝘂𝗿𝗼 𝗠𝗲𝗴𝘂𝗺𝗶✵

He still couldn’t believe it. It all happened so quickly. One minute you two were sharing a passionate night, basking under the moonlight as you kiss and bodies dance together.

And the next, he’s cradling your bleeding body, words stuck in his throat and horror swirling on his eyes. Trembling hands trying to stop the blood from gushing out from your neck.

The bastard had got away but he could care less. “S-s/o..just...just stay awake for me okay...c-can you do that for me?” His words trembled off his lips, your eyes shifting over to his. The dullness setting in.

Weakly, your fingers brush over his cheek, his hands reaching up and taking hold of them as he kiss over the knuckle. “You’re....you’re gonna be okay! I promise the others are coming.” He hadn’t realized it but tears had already started falling from his eyes.

He was lying out his ass, the culprit behind this, another cursed user, has been terrorizing this part of town for months now. They weren’t letting him getaway, so you’re mostly his responsibility till the aftermath. He knew you didn’t have that long.

He went to move you but you grunt in pain, more blood pooling out from the wound. He cursed and held you on the bloodstained ground.

“I’m sorry...I-I’m so sorry..” he mumbles into your neck, uncaring if his face was stained with blood as his quiet sobs racked his body.

With as much strength you could muster, you raised your hand to be lazily placed over his head and stroked it over it like you always did.

“I...I l-love you..” you whispered to him, your body becoming slack and your hand falling to your side.

He didn’t need to check, he didn’t need to see whatever expression your face was making to know that you were gone. His grip over your lifeless body tightens, his cries reaching into screams.

This felt all too familiar to him.

He wanted to blame you for breaking his defense, to inching so close to his heart. For making him so happy and attached, but he couldn’t lie and say he didn’t enjoy the moments that came with it.

The memories that’ll forever stay replaying like a broken record in his mind. This is why he didn’t try to make friends, he didn’t try to get close, he hated that he loved you so much.

✵𝗡𝗼𝗯𝗮𝗿𝗮 𝗞𝘂𝗴𝗶𝘀𝗮𝗸𝗶✵

Maybe she was too mean to you, not caring enough, She mishandled you to many times, to many fights and arguments over tedious things that should have been left as it was.

Was this her punishment? She allowed for such actions to boil and fester, and now what? A dumb argument over a stupid past that no longer connected to you and the exchange was your life. 

Even though you said you sorry’s, I love you’s, there was still tension before you both part. Nobara saving to say all those mushy things she felt for when you were back in her arms

Oh, the deep regret she felt.

The way her teammates came back quieter than usual and more seemly more sluggish then earlier

“What are you idiots standing like that for, that cursed demon shake you that bad. Hmph, simple enough what would you guys be with me?” She teased her sly smile spreading over her lips before it falter

They didn’t even try to agrue much less protest, they just seem distraught, stunned even. Then I dawned on her, they were missing someone...they were missing you.

“Where’s...where’s s/o?” She asked them soflty. A look of guilt overcame Yuji's features as he fished for something out of his pocket.

Confusion ran across Nobara face before it morphed into horror. A single scrap of a school uniform being held out in his hand.

“We...we couldn’t get their body..” Megumi finished his gaze meeting her’s before falling back to his feet. Fist clenched tightly to his side.

She barely heard anything after that, her eyes fixated on the single scrap of clothing. She inched to Yuji taking it and stroking her thumb over the material.

She bites her bottom lip, this was fates cruels joke. She didn’t deserve you from the beginning, it seems like everywhere she went someone had to leave her.

But why did it have to be violent? Why you out of all people. Maybe she should have told her how much you meant to her.

How much of a rock and pillars you were in this crazy life of hers. A beam of reassurance and love that she could always depend on whenever she needed you.

How does she continue now, that beams were gone, taken from her so harshly. The only things she could cling so desperately to have been the last thing she saw you in.

What a cruel world she lived in.

✵𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚✵

There was always some form of a catch when it came to huamsn. No relationship or friendship was formed without a common goal or another interest being taken into play.

The sweet smiles, honey-coated words, and gentle touches were always a facade...wasn’t it?

He could care less about what happened to you, what became of you. After all humans are dirty devilish creatures so even more so then cursed beast.

But he didn’t understand... he didn’t understand why he felt such strong stings of anger, sadness, and a bit of shock bubble in him as you push him out the way.

Did you place some sort of technique over him, that made the king of curses catch such disease as emotions? Laced your words and touches with magic that only you could see and undo....no that’s not it.

Possible it was this damn vessel's fault. Always hanging off your words and embraces like a lovesick fool. Opting to distract himself with your praise and love then rather focus on what’s important at hand.

though denying that he didn't enjoy your persevere, from time to time would make the ping of guilt worsen.

Your body hit the floor with a loud thud, the gaping hole through your chest made the anger and feelings of anguish flow in him.

He didn’t even notice when he had taken over Yuji's body, destroying the very thing that took you away from him. The slaughter more animalistic and erratic as his state of sanity seems to be blown out the window.

He cares not for the look of horror and fear that clouded Yuji's teammate's face. Not concerning much of his attention to them, he came over, plucked your dead body from the ground, and disappear.

Appearing back to that place you talked with Yuji so dearly about..what was it again. He couldn’t recall the name, only knowing about the large wisteria trees that guard the scenery. 

“Dumb human...surely foolish beings you are.” He mumbles you head was press into his chest as he looked out from the Cliffs view.

“Look what you have done, making me feeling things for you..” his voice soft as he pushed back small strands from your face. Yuji memories of this morning playing back

“You two better make it out of here alive or I’m kicking both of your butts.” You proclaimed earning a whine from Yuji and scoff from Sukuna as he appeared on the other’s cheek. “Dare I ask how you’ll be able to deafest me, don’t bite more than what you can chew.” He threatens but only succeeded in making you laugh, “Mhm..yeah you’re right I’m just worried about my two favorite boys.” You had told them, leaning in and kissing a flustered Yuji, “I love you both so be safe.” Okay and no stupid actions.” You scolded Yuji plucking the boy's head.

A weak laugh fell off from his lips, “Looks who’s talking, you’re the one that’s gone and died on us..” he spoke aloud. Moving to crouch by the tree and sit your body against the bark.

He let one finger trail over your lips and down your features letting them be engraved in his memory as he gazes down at you.

That disease having still affecting him, even as you lay dead in front of him. These feeling of sadness and heart ach and most of all loneliness suffocating and clawing at his throat

He dare not shed a tear, Yuji would do enough of that for the both of them. Instead, he let his hand gently cup over your cold and colorless cheek. The warmth he remembers oh so clearly, know felt like something that occurs ages ago.

He leans his forehead against yours and shutting his eyes, and allowing Yuji to take control.

You’d never heard him say, though he wished you are hear so he could that dazzling smile as he did

“I love you... S/o.”

[thinkingoutlouddblog]

butterfly effect: one

His mouth is slightly ajar, surely shocked to be seeing the girl of his past so far from where he had left her. I myself try to compute what I am seeing, but my brain is running so fast from the adrenaline, the gravity of what is occurring hardly registers.

It’s Harry, and he’s here and the two of you need to get out of there right now.

Word Count: 6k+

Includes: mob!h, mentions of blood, scary dudes late at night, and the set up for my favourite story I’ve ever written!

A/N: guys I am so excited about this story! I swear writing this is the only thing holding me together (so don’t let it flop lmao). It is 2AM pray for me.

My inbox is open for anyone who wants to chat about this series! I love to gab, and constructive criticism is very much appreciated. I want this to be as good as possible!!

butterfly effect masterlist // my masterlist

now

It is not until it is already too late that I realise I should have just ordered an uber.

Alex was very insistent that I order one home from my late shift at the pub. He had even offered to split the cost, knowing without needing to ask this was the cause of my hesitation. It wasn’t that I couldn’t afford it. Strictly speaking, I could. I was just keenly aware of the amount of material I could buy with the amount a late night uber in London would cost me. I would never take him up on his offer. He needed the money just as much as I did.

“It’s okay, I’m good for it,” I gave him a little smile. He was sitting in front of his mirror in his room, midway through getting ready for work. I had simply come to say goodbye before I left for my shift when he had grabbed me by the hand and demanded I ordered an uber home.

“Babe, you have to promise me.”

“I promise!” I stared exaggeratedly into his eyes as I spoke, emphasising my honesty.

In that moment, I made peace with the money I would be losing from my fabric budget. I calculated this budget, of course, by subtracting living expenses from my weekly income. My best friend wanted to make sure I got home safe, wanted the peace of mind while he was working that I would be fine. Who was I to say no to that?

“Make sure you text me when you get into the uber and once you make it up to the apartment.” My chest flooded with warmth at the love and care in his voice. It was moments like these I really sat back and thanked my lucky stars that Alex was in my life.

So, of course I was just going to bite the bullet and order the uber. Of course.

Except, well.

I couldn’t help but think how quickly I got from our place to work. We had picked the apartment just one short month ago, heavily considering the advantage of its walking distance to my work. The King’s Arms was just one block up and down the road. It was barely a fifteen-minute walk. Shorter than that if I took the shortcut down the alleyway back to our block, saving me from walking further down the road and looping back around. It would probably take me longer to get home via uber, once you account for the time spent waiting for it to arrive.

A ten-minute walk home wouldn’t kill me, surely.

The contemplation was pushed from my mind for the duration of my busy Saturday night shift. It was my least favourite shift of the week, as I spent each week chasing after middle aged men getting rowdy in the excitement of watching whatever sport was on TV. The King’s Arm was small, but it was a local favourite known for its homey pub meals, reasonably priced pints and good atmosphere. Much to my contempt they didn’t keep a large staff pool, preferring a smaller, well-trained, reliable bunch. Which was great in theory until it left me to run around like my hair is on fire on a night as busy as tonight.

I was capable of serving everyone well and in a timely manner, but it wasn’t exactly a stroll in the park. More like a seven-hour long sprint, with a half hour break in the middle.

As the final game for the night ended, the crowd slowly but surely thinned until just a couple of small groups remained.

“Hey y/n, are you okay to lock up by yourself if I head home in five?” my manager, Rachel asked me half an hour before close. “I have some time I need to take back,” she added in explanation.

“Of course, you go get out of here.” I knew she wasn’t lying when she said she had some time to take back, putting in all sorts of extra hours to keep the place in tip top shape. I liked Nicola, and I had certainly been working there long enough to handle a couple of customers and lock up by myself. Even if I didn’t like Rachel and thought she was slacking off, I couldn’t exactly argue. She was both my boss and the owner’s daughter, probably not far off becoming the owner herself.

“Are you sure?” She asked, eyeing the few men still seated, probably triple checking she didn’t think they were any kind of threat.

“Yes,” I laughed, “now scram, before I change my mind.”

“Alright if you insist,” she said, already making her way towards her bag.

“Ring me if you need anything! Good night!” She called over her shoulder as she exited through the kitchen door. The cook had gone home ten minutes earlier, the pub serving only drinks the hour before close at midnight.

“Night!” I called back.

I made quick work of what little cleaning there was left to do, and gently reminded the remaining patrons we closed in half an hour. To my surprise they were agreeable and friendly, one of them instantly assuring me, “Don’t worry love we’ll be out of your hair soon, won’t make you stay back late.”

Usually the kind of people that were in the pub this late had no care for closing time, believing that pertained simply to whenever they decided they wanted to leave.

True to his word, everyone was out with ten minutes to spare and I was able to clean their dishes and tables with the remaining time they had granted me. I locked the door to The King’s Arms at 12 o’clock on the dot and riding the high of such an easy close, took not a moment in deciding I was in fact going to walk home.

To Alex: Just ordered an uber!

I felt guilty lying, but I would rather lie than have Alex worrying over nothing. I would be home in a flash, keys secured firmly in between my knuckles the whole way. I felt far safer on the move than waiting out the front of work for an uber anyway.

I kept a fast pace, left only to debate whether I took my shortcut or stuck to the street. I checked over my shoulder, and seeing absolutely no one around, made a quick right turn into the alleyway between two buildings.

I grabbed my phone from my back pocket as I heard the ding of a text notification. I glance down at my screen, reading as I walk.

From Alex: Amazing! I should be home in a couple hours, text me when you get home safe. Love you x

I don’t register the hushed growling tones as I continue making my way down the alley, still looking down at my phone as I type a simple ‘love you’ in reply. It isn’t uncommon to hear the conversations of tenants on the lower levels of these apartment buildings as you walk down the street. Walls are thin and many windows generally left open. It is easy to consign this particular conversation among the other non-threatening city sounds until I eventually look back up from my phone.

I am immediately faced with a most unfavourable scene, under the single light that illuminates this alley, are the two men who I now recognise to be the source of the argument I had barely registered. The first man is tall, dressed in all black, thick muscles protruding through his t-shirt. He towered over the second man who contrasted him starkly in his bright red adidas tracksuit. The tall man’s presence would be dominating the space, even if he didn’t have his dark forearm pressed firmly against the smaller man’s throat.

I clamp a hand over my mouth, stopping myself from yelping stupidly and drawing attention to myself. They haven’t noticed my presence. A witness to whatever it was that was occurring here.

“See all I’m hearing is excuses, bruv,” the tall man’s accent is distinctly that of someone from South London. His tone is aggressive, but even. He knows he has the upper hand and it is clearly not his first rodeo threatening people. This is exactly the kind of person I could’ve avoided encountering by simply ordering an uber.

I snap out of my shocked daze and start to turn to make a swift and stealthy departure. I’m no fool. I know there is a definitive gang presence around here. I also know, if you leave them alone, they too shall (hopefully)leave you. All hopes of making such an exit are of course foiled as soon as my foot connects with an empty beer bottle on my first step.

The two men’s heads snap towards me instantly. I expect the shorter man to ask for help, to say something, but his mouth remains clamped shut. Gang business. He is in a bigger mess than someone like me can ever save him from. The taller man’s eyes narrow. After the briefest moments of standing there frozen, caught, I spin on my heel and run as fast as my feet can carry me.

I run back to the route I should have taken, cursing myself all the way for being naïve enough to believe that nothing bad could happen to me on something as simple as a walk home from work. That women who were raped, kidnapped and murdered from off the street were somehow removed from me. That was something only on the news in my world. Not something that was possibly about to occur.

My heart hammers in my chest as I make the split-second decision, I am safer running all the way home than running as far as I can from the scene of the crime. I’m going to run all the way up the stairs to my fifth-floor apartment, and I am going to lock the door behind me. I turn the corner back up to my block, not slowing down for a second.

I am so quick in fact, that as I come flying around the next corner towards my apartment, I nearly barrel straight into someone. He was clearly walking with some pace too, because he narrowly prevents us crashing into each other head on, but he is a second too slow in his reaction time because I trip straight over his feet. I hardly even see him, even as I am falling straight over him. All I see is brown hair and a dark suit before I’m staring straight at the pavement flying towards my face. I barely manage to throw my forearms out to break my fall as I hit the pavement at speed.

“Jesus,” the man mutters, but the only thing I can hear is my heavy breathing and my own blood pounding in my ears.

I’m on the ground now, I register for a second before my flight response kicks back in.

I don’t even feel the sting of the scrapes with the adrenaline coursing through me, already attempting to scramble up and get as far away as possible from this stranger. “I’m so sorry!” I manage to call as I pick myself and my keys up, gearing up to get moving once more.

“Honey?”

No. It absolutely could not possibly be. There was only one person on this planet who had ever called me by that name.

I stop dead in my tracks. That voice. It’s deeper than I remember but undoubtedly familiar. Familiar seems too simple a word. That voice had echoed around the halls of my brain for years. Even now, six years later, it was not gone but buried, waiting for a simple trigger to spark my memory and bring that beautiful sound back to the forefront my mind. Some days I swear I remembered it like I had just heard it moments ago.

Except now, I really had heard him.

Slowly, I turned to face him.

His mouth is slightly ajar, surely shocked to be seeing the girl of his past so far from where he had left her. I myself try to compute what I am seeing, but my brain is running so fast from the adrenaline, the gravity of what is occurring hardly registers.

It’s Harry, and he’s here and the two of you need to get out of there right now.

Before he can verbalise any of the questions on the tip of his tongue, I grab his hand in my own, and yank him forward as I continue running home.

Realistically, I know that we now outnumber whoever it was that may be coming after me and I know even six years since I’ve last seen him, I am always safe with Harry. He proved that in many ways, and more than once, while I knew him. I was not, however, willing to risk the tall man pulling a knife on Harry. I didn’t even want to put him in a situation where it was a battle of fists. Though I did know from experience he could more than hold his own.

“What’s going on?” he yells as we run down the street, rapidly approaching the exit of the alleyway I had fled.

I gradually reduce our pace until we are speed-walking past the alleyway. Tempted as I am to see if they are still there, I keep my eyes trained forward, praying they aren’t there watching us as we pass by.

As soon as we have cleared it, I’m straight back to my running pace, forcing Harry to accelerate speed once more.

“I’ll explain inside,” I call over my shoulder in answer to his earlier question.

Now that I felt a degree safer with Harry’s presence, I had the capacity to feel thankful I had opted for a boiler suit and converse for tonight to accommodate for the Saturday night rush. This run would have been hell if I had worn a skirt and a heeled boot instead.

“Inside where?” He’s laughing as he speaks and as the fear loosens its grip on me, the déjà vu begins to battle for dominance. That laugh had brightened my every day for long enough to leave a mark on my soul. Fleeting as it was, that single sound reignited the shine it had once left.

His question was answered when we came to a screeching halt in front of my apartment. It took me two tries to input my security code correctly, my brain and hands both moving quickly, but not quite matching up. Eventually, the door clicked, and I was able to swing it open, tugging Harry in after me.

I didn’t stop dragging him along behind me until we had taken all five flights of stairs up to my apartment two at a time.

“y/n…” he attempted to grab my attention when we first entered the building, but I was not to be deterred until we had reached the absolute safety of my apartment. I shushed him, not wanting to receive a noise complaint from my new neighbours. I supposed having such a thought was a good sign, my consciousness beginning to register it was not in any imminent danger.

I huffed and puffed as we landed at the doorstep of apartment 5B, the place I loved to call home. Harry, I noticed, was barely short of breath. He had always been a runner when we were in high school. I wondered if he kept up the habit even now.

My hands shook as I located the correct key on my chain, body still shaking from the excitement of the events of the past five minutes. I struggled to align the key with the lock with my left hand, unthinking of the fact my right was still firmly in Harry’s hold.

“Let me,” he murmured, already moving his right hand to take the key. I said nothing, simply surrendering it over to him.

His hands were steady as anything as he turned the key, granting us entrance into my home. I released a breath I didn’t realise I had been holding. I finally stopped just past the door, my back to Harry as he shut it behind him. I took a few deep breaths, trying so desperately to ground myself.

Was any of this even real? The sketchy characters I could believe in a heartbeat, Harry Styles’ presence, however, was harder to grasp.

But there his hand was, in my own, even if I couldn’t see him.

Harry stood back and let me take this moment to myself, keenly aware of how much I needed it. He knew I needed to take pause and re-centre myself otherwise I would only shut down. He was also aware of my injured state though, even if I wasn’t.

“y/n, you’re bleeding.”

“Oh,” my head snapped back to look at my arm. In the rush to get home, the blood from the scrapes on my arm had run down my arm and dripped into our connected hands. I quickly released my grasp on him. “Jesus, I’m sorry.”

“A little bit of blood never hurt anyone,” he quickly dismissed. “Unless you’re the one that’s bleeding, in which case you better get cleaned up as soon as possible.

“Luckily you have me here to play nurse. Just lead the way to the nearest bathroom,” he gave me a little cheeky grin, clearly trying to lift your spirits. The subtle playfulness is not as natural as it once was, but it is certainly reminiscent of our old dynamic. The surrealism of this whole thing goes straight to my head, clouding my ability to form full, coherent thoughts.

Somehow, I manage to come out with, “I think you mean our only bathroom,” in response.

He grunts a laugh, but he hasn’t missed the use of the word our.

I walk like a zombie, leading him through the hallway past the living room and the kitchen to the bathroom. I hold my forearms up in an attempt to redirect the flow of the blood and prevent it from dripping from my fingertips onto the floor. As I slowly came out of survival mode, my awareness of the stinging of my forearms became increasingly prominent. I was sure my hip and knees were going to be bruised pretty badly too. I really hadn’t managed to slow down at all before all my momentum came crashing into the cement.

“Do you have a first aid kit?” He asks upon our arrival to the bathroom.

“Under the sink.”

My eyes trail over the mess Alex and I had left in our rush to get ready.

I tend to procrastinate getting ready for as long as possible, busying myself with just about anything else. Generally, it will be tidying up the mess I’ve made during the day, only for me to create a whole new one in my hurry to get ready for my shift on time. Alex on the other hand, always leaves plenty of time to perfect his look before leaving for the night. Despite having the time to do so, he never cleans as he goes. Leaving his many products and deliberated outfits spread far and wide. Luckily most of his mess was confined to his bedroom, the only trace of him in the bathroom skincare and hair products (though there wasn’t a limited amount of those, either).

“I’m sorry for the mess,” I speak quietly watching Harry get his bearings, standing helplessly as I bled, hands still raised.

“Nonsense,” he doesn’t look at me as he speaks, jumping into action.

Harry turns the faucet on in the sink before opening the cupboard door and grabbing the first aid kid out. It was actually sort of a miracle Alex and I had one. It had been on a list of “Things You Need for a New Apartment” I had googled, scared we were missing important things. At the time, I had deliberated longer than necessary over whether to get one. I couldn’t remember the last time I had required anything more than a band aid for any given ailment. The deciding factor had been the memory of Alex getting into a couple of scrapes while out over the years. It had never been anything major, the worst injury he ever sustained being a bruised jaw, but it was better to be safe than sorry, I decided.

Turns out, that decision was for the best.

He gently touches his fingertips to my right arm, which had copped the brunt of it. With the softest touch, he delicately guided my arm under the stream of water. As I stepped forward to lean over the sink and wash away the dirt of the footpath, he stepped backwards, giving me my space.

I winced at the initial contact of the water as it ran red. I risked a glance at my reflection. Sweaty brow, the light lazy work makeup I had applied half off my face. I quickly diverted my gaze back to my injured arm. This was not exactly how I pictured our reunion. I had hardly ever even pictured it, I was so sure that I would never see Harry again.

I wondered if this silence was as heavy as I thought it was. Everything about him felt so familiar, yet so different. Up until this moment it felt like being in the presence of a friend, but now I realised, he was closer to a stranger.

I knew the person he once was, a sweet but fucked up kid who had been forced to become a man too early. Someone who had his walls a mile high around almost everyone. Almost. The boy who painted his nails on lunch breaks and was friends with everyone but somehow also no one. Until he was friends with me. Then he was the boy who always sat to my left from the first bell of the school day to the last. Back then, I knew him from the inside out, just as he knew me.

He was my greatest joy of those years. Then he was my greatest heartbreak. Now, he was just some guy I used to know who I had plucked straight up off the street, looking very out of place in what was clearly a designer suit in my tiny apartment.

He looked through the first aid kit as I ensured the entirety of the scrape was rinsed. It extended most of the way from my elbow to my wrist, but more pressingly in my mind, it now stung like a bitch. Once the water rain clear as it ran off my arm, I moved onto the much smaller and shallower scrape on my left elbow, working quickly to get it clean.

Most of the bleeding had stopped, only a few spots on my right arm still dotting with blood. I leaned over the sink to prevent the water from dripping onto the floor.

I cleared my throat, nervous to break the silence.

“Can you please grab me that towel?” I nodded my head towards the black hand towel hung behind Harry.

His eyes snapped upwards from the first aid kit he had been busying himself with. I was sure he had been surveying it more thoroughly than strictly necessary, trying to detract from the awkward energy which had crept up on us. We made brief eye contact through the mirror. My breath caught in my throat. The moment was over as soon as it began as he turned wordlessly to grab the towel.

He holds it in his hand, hesitating before handing it over, “Did you want me to…?” he trails off, growing awkward in his offer. He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. She barely knows you, back off, he tells himself.

“No that’s okay,” I speak gently, and he quickly passes the towel to me. I get to work patting my arms down delicately.

“Thank you though,” I add, hating the unsure look on his face. I meet his eye, giving him a smile I hope is reassuring.

“Okay, let’s get you sitting down so I can fix you up,” he returns your smile with a slight upturn of the right side of his mouth.

I relocate to the little dining table Alex and I had bought at Ikea just a week prior. Harry isn’t far behind, washing his hands before joining me to tend to my wounds. He lays out everything he is going to need from the first aid kit before holding his hand out. Like an idiot, I stare at his hand without moving for a beat too long before jerkily offering my right arm up.

He laughs silently as he turns my arm over, analysing it carefully.

“So, do you often go for runs at midnight?” He asks as he unscrews the lid on the Vaseline.

“Yeah all the time. I just don’t normally take people from the street with me.”

“Is that all I am? A person on the street?” He tries to keep his tone light, but I can tell he was hurt by my choice of words.

I expect to feel guilty, but a burst of anger I thought I had long gotten over flares in my chest. It isn’t as red hot and overwhelming as it had been years before – I’d definitely had my fair share of time to cool off – but I’m still surprised by the sting of it.

He was the one that made himself a stranger to me, and now he’s upset when I’m stating the fact that he made a reality.

Despite myself, I tried not to come across too harshly in my response. I was never one for confrontation.

“I mean, I haven’t heard from you in six years.”

He is very careful not to lift his eyes from my injuries as he carefully applies the petroleum jelly. I stare down at him, desperate to catch his eye.

There’s a pause as I wait for him to offer some kind of explanation. Some perfectly good reason why my best friend and first love left town without telling me why, or where he was going, and then never contacted me again.

When he doesn’t fill the silence, I sigh as quietly as I can manage. You don’t really know him, I remind myself. I practically kidnapped him, I can’t just go asking him to rehash history. It was so clear that he was what he had wanted me to be. History.

“I just mean, I don’t really know you anymore. I’m sorry I grabbed you like that, I just,” I hissed at the sting of his first aid, “I was walking home from work and I saw these really sketchy looking guys.”

“Sketchy looking?” He finally looked up at me, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

“Well I guess they didn’t really look sketchy in their appearance particularly, it was more the fact that one of them was practically choking the other. They were arguing over something. I think it was something to do with some of the gangs around here,” I attempted a nonchalant tone, not wanting to worry him. The less phased I seemed, the better. I had caused him enough trouble. The only thing that was probably stopping him from running for the hills and never looking back (again) was guilt.

I go on to explain how I’d kicked that stupid beer bottle and taken off running, “which is when I ran into you. I’m really sorry about that, by the way. I’m so glad I didn’t take you down with me I think I would’ve died of a mix of guilt and embarrassment right then and there.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Ho-“he cut himself before his mouth could form that name he had so affectionately given you. “I’m the one who feels guilty, if not for my big, slow feet you wouldn’t have bit the dust.” I laugh at his turn of phrase.

His face suddenly grows serious. “Your head is okay, right?”

Instinctively, my left hand shoots up to the back of my head, ghosting over the slight bump hidden under my hair. The scar tissue was ever so minimally raised, only perceptible to a knowing touch. I retract my hand bashfully, slightly embarrassed by my knee jerk reaction.

“It’s fine,” I match his serious tone, before lightening it up, “as you can see, I managed to break most of my fall,” I gesture to my right arm he has paused work on.

He holds my gaze for a moment longer, discerning whether he thinks I am downplaying anything. He picks up the dressing, moving onto the next phase of his treatment plan.

“And they don’t feel broken? You can move your wrists okay without too much pain?”

My heart swells at his concern. I stamp out the small joy as soon as it flared up. It’s guilt that’s fuelling him. Nothing else.

I shake my head no. He looks up once more, having missed the gesture in his concentration. “Sorry! No. All bumps and bruises. I’m fine honestly, I probably majorly overexaggerated the whole thing and freaked out for nothing. I’m really sorry about all this, its so late at night.”

“Don’t apologise,” he says firmly. “It’s not your fault and you did exactly the right thing by making a break fo’ it. You never know what could’ve happened. Ya’ know. Out late. By yourself. In the dark.”

My face burned red with shame, but also defiance. I knew what I did was stupid and extremely risky, but I also didn’t think I needed a lecture about it in this moment. The fear still coursing through me and my scraped-up arms were surely lesson enough.

“I could say the same thing to you,” I countered.

We both knew my argument didn’t hold up very well. He was a man out alone at night. There was obviously a risk there, but it wasn’t the same.

We also both knew, I wasn’t really trying to start a debate. Just signalling to him I didn’t want to get into it and wanted to move on.

“I was walking to the tube from a mate’s place,” he explained simply, letting me off the hook.

He had begun to tape the dressing down to my skin, securing it safely. He worked expertly. Even if I didn’t already know, I would have said this was one of many times he had done some at home first aid.

“In a designer suit?” I questioned. There were two things I was asking, but also not saying. Was this the kind of ‘mate’ you wine and dine before going home with them? And what happened to that poor kid from Holmes Chapel I once knew?

“I came straight from work.”

Jesus he wasn’t giving me a lot to work with in the way of details.

“Oh,” I say lamely, not wanting to pry. As much as I could tell myself (and him) that I didn’t really know him anymore and he was basically a stranger, it still hurt to be treated like one. We used to be so open with one another. The one thing I ever kept from him was how I truly felt about him.

“I work in finance,” he offers up after a beat of silence. “It uh- I’m pretty lucky to have the job I do,” he alludes to his financial standing, obviously wanting to acknowledge the contrast comparative to how I knew him. A boy not even of eighteen, fending for himself while trying to complete his high school education.

My face practically split in two with the size of the smile on my face at his words. “I’m so happy for you, Harry,” I say, hoping he can see how genuinely I mean it.

“Thank you.”

“Are you happy, H?” The question slips out before I can stop it. Internally, I kick myself. Externally, I try to keep my face neutral, yet interested. That’s a perfectly normal question to ask. Totally.

“Um,” he switches to my left elbow, making quicker work of the smaller wound. “I think so. In my experience you never realise how happy you are until you aren’t. But still, I think I am.”

“Good,” I say firmly. “I’m glad.”

“What about you?” He turns the questioning back on you. “What’s your story?”

“Oh, you know. The sad story of the girl chasing a dream,” I nodded my head towards the sewing machine stationed at the other end of the table.

“Don’t say that!” His tone jests, but he is serious as he speaks. “I think it would be far sadder if I discovered that your talent was going to waste. I’m really glad to hear that actually,” he half says the last sentence to himself, concentrating on fixing his dressing properly on the more difficult angle of my elbow.

“There you go,” he gleams as he admires his handy work. “Good as new.”

“Thank you so much, Harry. I’m so sorry for all this-“

“Not your fault,” he quickly dismisses.

“Even so, I’m sorry for all the trouble. I’ll pay for an uber home for you or something,” I try to come up with something to offer him that can even begin to repay him for his help.

“Are you going to be okay by yourself?” His brow creases in concern.

“Oh, Alex should be-“ I smack a hand over my mouth, realising I never texted him to let him know I had gotten home okay.

“Oh fuck,” I remove my hand from my mouth. I gingerly fish my phone out of my back pocket, muscles beginning to protest, the impact of that fall settling in.

Four missed calls and a flurry of text messages. My phone had automatically turned onto ‘Do Not Disturb’ mode as scheduled at 12:30. I hadn’t been notified of any of it and he had definitely assumed the worst.

“Is everything okay?”

“I forgot to text him and let him know I made it home okay,” I don’t look up as I speak, opening our text chat.

From Alex: I’m coming home

Received ten minutes ago.

“Your boyfriend?” He questioned, keeping his face impassive. That had my head shooting up.

“Uh-“ I began, but cut myself off as the unmistakeable sound of heeled feet running up the stairs to our apartment ran out loud and clear.

Shit.

Before I could even think what to say next, Alex’s key was in the lock. The door swung open, smacking the wall with the force of it.

Both Harry and Alex’s brows hit their bloody hairline I swear. Or more accurately, Lexie’s.

There my best friend and roommate stood, in full drag, light catching the sequins of the pink mini-dress I had sewn myself. If I weren’t standing there with the guiltiest expression of my life, I would be thinking about how stunning she looked.

Harry looked between the two of you, as Lexie did the same. Both trying to catch their brains up to what they were seeing. I myself was at a loss for words. I probably should have started with, “Lex, I am so sorry,” but Harry broke the silence first.

“Wow, you look amazing,” he breathed, transfixed by the look Lexie had created. Drag was an art form, and she was quite the artist. He was not the first to become enchanted upon first look, and he certainly would not be the last.

Lexie narrowed her eyes at Harry, jaw falling slightly open at the audacity of the acknowledgement in this moment. She had little patience for besotted strangers in moments like this. Her narrowed eyes moved to mine, face filling with rage.

“Lex-“ I begin, but am cut off for what seems to be the millionth time tonight with the simple raise of her hand. The close of my mouth is instant. I was not about to make this any worse.

“Bitch, if you do not have a very good explanation for this,” she breathes deeply, trying to gain her composure, “I am going to fucking kill you.”

                                   ********

As soon as he is out of your apartment and onto the street, his phone is in his hand. Fingers not able to press to type the message fast enough for his liking.

From Harry: We need to talk. I saw her.

As soon as the message was delivered, he was returning the calls he had silenced in y/n’s presence. The moment she had turned her back and left him to wash his hands, he had turned his phone to airplane mode.

“Jesus Christ bruv, I thought you were dead,” Michael joked as soon as he picked up.

The two of them had parted ways for what should’ve been five or ten minutes. Harry hadn’t seen it happen, just heard the clatter of the beer bottle as it skated along the ground and the screeching halt in the argument. He had been waiting patiently for Michael to finish working in the shadowy doorway to the side. He hadn’t seen a thing, and he was sure from his concealed position, whoever had seen Mike hadn’t seen him. So, he obligingly offered to take a walk, ensure she hadn’t gone calling the police.

He had just been bored. Ready to go home and have a drink with Michael so he could have a bitch and a moan about work. It always left him feeling better when he returned on Monday. He was killing time, that was all. He hadn’t expected to stumble over the girl who had changed everything.

Harry didn’t take time to explain his extended absence, moving straight along to what he had called for. Just like Mike, he preferred to skip the pleasantries.

“I need you to subtly divert as much traffic from this block as possible,” he didn’t ask. He never asked. It was always an instruction with him. In this business, asking nicely didn’t exactly lend itself to going far.

“What’s this about?” Harry gritted his teeth. He did not enjoy having his authority questioned. The only reason Michael would get away with it was because of their pre-existing friendship. Even then. Harry was not exactly in a forgiving mood. Made all the worse when Mike added, “This isn’t about that girl from the alley is it?”

Michael had his answer when Harry said only, “Get it done or I’ll have your fookin’ head.”

chat with me about butterfly effect!

[redwinterroses]

RIIIIIIIIIGHT SO.

I just finished chapter 13 of Dog At The Door and holy hot cross buns batman if you're not reading this fic you NEED to. It's literally one of the best written fics I have ever read in my life and I've been reading fanfiction for over 15 years, lol.

I went back and reread the entire fic to lead up to chapter 13 and I decided to treat it like I used to treat things I had to read in college so I took notes as I went and please I am warning you this post is incredibly long. Almost 3k words. PLEASE do not hit that "read more" button unless you're good with having to scroll past it all and also spoilers ahead. Proceed with caution.

~*~

Rereading Dog at the Door reactions (spoilers, obviously):

· Doc finding Ren’s body to be cold and for a second thinking he’s actually dead—my heart

· “That’s Ren, alive and kicking.” Oh…no, Doc. No it’s not.

· The first “Where is my hand?” hits different the second time through

· Gah the ice and winter imagery ALL over the place—my English degree brain wants to watch and see if that shifts to warmth at any point as we go? Thoughts for future Red to think.

· It’s fascinating to me to see Doc constantly thrust into the prey role. This is a guy who is very much not that person normally, but something about the Red King is beyond anything he’s really encountered before—or at least not since Dinnerbone—and it pushes him into an entirely new role that he clearly chafes in

· “I should get back to work on your new arm soon,” he says, making a mental note to add claws to the fingertips. Honestly Doc why tho. XD

· “It feels like something Ren would want him to do.” </3

· Side note: I just watched Doc’s freaking hour long shulker farm vid, and that’s making it a lot easier to hear his voice in this fic

· I’m more curious about the hand.” New Ren laughs a bit at his own words, as though there’s something funny about that phrasing. I MISSED THIS LINE THE FIRST TIME THROUGH

· The bead curtain being cursed hippie treasure XD

· The fact that Doc just so quickly accepts that Ren is gone—maybe not permanently, but at least for now—is kind of heartbreaking. Because you know he hasn’t really accepted it, he’s just… deciding not to feel anything about it. Just nod and move on and pretend you don’t need to stop and cope with the possible/probable death of your best friend and the fact that Someone Else is wearing his skin. That’s so sad.

· “high-fiving the finished hand with his own metal hand.” Aww… Doccy.

· “He shoos away the images of New Ren holding him up by the throat supervillain-style and turns around.” Hmmmmmmm want that fanart. Scary New Ren/RK is good stuff. (post-chapter-13 Red popping in with a WHAT THE HECK)

· “that makes him seem like a ghost in Ren’s body.” YA KNOW. LIKE HE IS.

· Okay side note time: why is the Red King here? Ya know? Like – in 3rdLife the idea of a possessing spirit of bloodlust makes some sense. But why stick around? Was RK trying to escape the 3L server, or was this not deliberate? At what point did he take over from Ren—at Black Heart Altar? In which case, was the whole idea Ren’s to begin with, or was he influenced? Maybe it happened the first time Ren died? The Red King took over then—or at least started to? Thoughts, thoughts, thoughts, thoughts…

· Wait more theories—what if RK is connected to the ????? entity that spoke to Martyn when he died? In which case, cMartyn said he was considering making that canonically a Watcher (he ended up not doing it, but he also didn’t do anything that contradicted it either). I’m not saying RK is a Watcher… but boy he sure does stare a lot, don’t he.

· Holding the screwdriver like a dagger—mmmm

· Okay funny thought: all this frost, RK’s gonna need to be real careful about rust lol. And straining the metal, tbh, all that freezing and thawing is going to have an effect but the rust idea is making me laugh

· Until I realized it would look like blood and it’s not funny anymore

· “Renbob is in the beanbag stuffed next to the driver’s seat” right so is this where Renbob sleeps because I have been wondering—

· “something about having two people look like Ren when neither of them are makes Doc stop to take a shaky breath” *sob*

· “Renbob clears his throat, looking up at Doc with a smile that is so obviously fake that it hurts.” Ugh the LOT of you stop repressing everything you’ll give yourselves a collective hernia

· “he’ll probably have to break the news to the other hermits, too, Iskall and False and all the others.” All these painful lines I somehow missed the first time through

· Awww warm air comes in when Renbob opens the door—with the flowers and everything, Renbob is so easily associated with spring, I love this contrast.

· Aaand there it is, yup, RK is shocked to see his face on Renbob, and Renbob is shocked to see that this is so clearly Not Ren.

· They both recover pretty quickly, though. Survivors, both of them.

· RK calls Renbob their “ferryman” and I’m not sure if I was supposed to get “crossing the river Styx” vibes from that But I Did. (does RK think he’s dead? That they’re all dead?) (post-chapter-13 Red here with a little bit of wordless screaming.) (and also a bit of pride that I picked up on this.)

· “And what a help you’ve been! Fixing me up, replacing my hand.” Hi yes, 911? there’s a dagger stabbed into my feels.

· “he’d rather remember rage than see another person’s heart break.” Dang that’s such a raw line. Oof.

· ”the Red King says, his voice hoarse with tears.” Really interesting that this blood deity can feel such emotions—like, anger or even fear, I can get. But to see this entity upset to the point of tears is fascinating.

· “There is a crown on Doc’s workbench.” Right, yeah so like—is RK unwillingly manifesting these artifacts? Because that’s wild, man. …how long before he manifests an “enchanter”?

· “I’ve never seen it [the crown] clean before.” Okay that definitely implies that maybe RK didn’t come around until after Black Heart Altar?

· “The Red King has the crown in his lap when Doc turns back around, claws gently tracing over the engravings, leaving frost patterns behind.” I really wish I had art skills because there’s this image in my head of a drawing of the crown held in RK’s hands, with his face (one eye glowing, one in shadow) reflected in the surface, and frost patterns following behind a claw that’s daintily tracing the surface. But I can’t draw so—

· RK asks for a change of clothes. What was he wearing when they rescued him, I wonder? The Red King outfit with the fur capelet? Or Ren’s Stargazer outfit? Which begs the question: where does Stargazer fit into all this? Was Ren’s return to Hermitcraft RK free, but when he came so close to dying to Sith, RK found that as a gateway to take over? (Post-13 Red here, Looking Intently at this note.)

· Awww… the image of a one-legged RK clutching new clothes to his chest and hopping down to change in the bathroom… That’s weirdly endearing. He’s less menacing when he stands up somehow. Less lurking, maybe.

· Oooohhhhh he messed up his back sleeping on the floor. Gotcha.

· Doc keeps telling himself (and RK) that saving him and working on these parts is “the right thing to do” and while he’s not WRONG I just want to see him realize that it’s not only the right thing, it’s realistically the only thing, because if he didn’t, then he’d have to deal with the fact that he’s lost his best friend and we can’t have that.

· “I don’t need to eat” ummmmmm no hold on this definitely implies that RK is possessing a dead body and I’m not okay with that where is Ren

· LOLOL “I can’t stand to see [you do] this” is such a raw line to be about watching Doc eat cereal with his hands

· “The voice doesn’t belong to who he thinks it does.” Ugh, Doc. This isn’t the first time he’s lost a close friend to Something Else, something otherworldly.

· “All of them are waiting for him, waiting for him to do something more, something better—” aaand there it is. Doc’s characterization in this fic in a single sentence.

· Doc waking up and thinking he’s seeing Ren and RK’s hesitation and the gentle “I’m not Ren”—OH MY HEART

· RK’s coffee = Renbob’s friendship bracelets

· Randomly can I just say that I love how RK’s dialog is all in italics? It concerned me at first because I thought it was going to keep pulling me out of the narrative, but instead it really just feels right. Also I’m looking forward to the moment when he says something and it’s not in italics because it’s REN and oh my lands please give this to me I beg you (post-13 Red here with a bit more mindless screaming)

· “watch your tongue with me, Atlas, because I’m the one person you can pass the sky to.” Okay okay okay—English studies brain coming out. This suggests that there is a burden RK and Doc can share: something Doc is currently struggling against that only RK can help him with. In the moment, I don’t know if this is really fair of RK to say—after all, Doc does technically have Renbob too, if we’re just talking about Doc’s unhealthy coping mechanisms. In fact, if that’s the context, then Renbob is a much better fellow-Atlas because he and Doc have known each other much longer and they’re both dealing with the loss of Ren. BUT, knowing about the upcoming conversation where Doc and RK both realize that they’ve lost someone (Ren for Doc, Martyn for RK) this line suddenly has a lot more weight. Again, I don’t think that in that moment RK quite has the right to pull this zinger. But in later context, it turns out to be true after all. They are the only two with this particular shared pain.

· Doc upset with himself because he can’t get over his “stupid hang-ups” DOC MY LAD. “I’ve lost my best friend, you’re in his body, and I don’t know how to process any of these emotions” is not a “stupid hang-up” PLEASE stop blaming yourself for everything!?

· “I’m so tired” in the middle of his nightmare—oh my gosh. That hurts so much for some reason.

· I also very much wish I had the ability to draw the image of Doc with tears on his face, staring dead-eyed down at his workbench while RK looms over from behind, pinning his wrists to the table with one metal arm and one frost-bitten one, a look of exasperation and concern on his face. Why can’t I draw the things

· “How do you know Etho” “I watched him die.” OW ow ow ow ow

· Doc takes this as calmly as only someone used to living in a world where death has low consequences can. Oh. Oh—that means… huh. Doc isn’t used to losing people permanently on any basis, especially not death. So no wonder he doesn’t know how to process Ren being gone (I can’t bear to write “dead” there). He literally doesn’t have context for it… and what context he DOES have is like—I mean, Etho and Bdubs came back. Ouch.

· “Twenty-five.” The Red King makes the number sound like a threat. Yet another banger line I missed the first time through. Imagine waking up and thinking you’re in 3rd Life again but instead of 14 players there’s almost twice that many and you think you don’t know any of them.

· I still don’t quite understand the “when was etho added/should have known there was something different” bit or why RK is so emotional about it… but I have trust that it’ll make sense at some point. (post-13 Red: ...is this something about the fact that he thinks he's dead...so he thinks Etho has died before? Like, that 3rd Life wasn't Etho's first hardcore? ...I feel like I'm almost grasping this but I'm missing an element somewhere.)

· And now a sword. RK. My man. You need to stop manifesting things—especially when they scare the ever-living daylights out of you.

· I absolutely adore the in-universe lore that Fire Aspect is a PvP enchantment because it threatens dropped loot, and yeah I very well might steal that. (Along with something I read at one point who-even-knows-where that Knockback is a coward’s enchantment, because I love that too.)

· He really shouldn’t. / Doc picks up the sword by the scabbard and hands it to him, hilt extended. Doc you already trust this guy so much and you don’t even know it—but is it just because you still subconsciously trust the face he wears? Or is it something deeper?

· Ugh, the “I was supposed to kill someone for him” conversation/scene is SO FREAKING GOOD

· “I don’t want it. Not like the crown.” Why, though? Why doesn’t he want it? Because it’s more to do with death than kingship? OH. Oh, I hadn’t even considered that. I’ve been thinking of RK as this like, god of blood and vengeance but maybe he’s not. Maybe he hates the bloodshed (“the blood! It’s drippin’ in me eyes… I’ve been blinded by the violence…”) just as much—more?—than Ren did/would have. Huh. That’s a new facet.

· Oh my heart the “have you ever lost someone and it was your fault” line. Dagger to the feels. Dagger to the feels.

· This like… “I’m on a roll and even though I know I should stop I really don’t want to” mode? Man. That’s relatable. Especially when you’re working to avoid dealing with something else.

· “Not making it for you—it’s for Ren” oh ouch ouch ouch the denial suddenly breaks through it’s okay, Doc I’m with you on this

· The second time reading through it’s far clearer that Doc has a blind panic attack here—when he starts rambling that Ren’s coming back, he’ll be there for season eight and RK goes to…do whatever he was going to do and Doc just blanks out. The manic productivity should have been a warning sign, the poor guy is crumbling.

· “Doctor” and “he’s not sure he deserves that title right now” UGH Doc needs a hug someone please hug him and tell him it’s all going to be okay. Someone please hug me and tell me it’s all going to be okay.

· “his hand on his throat” over the scar from the Red Winter axe? </3

· “I did do that. I have done that.” RK admitting to it actually having been him in Doc’s nightmares?

· Okay sorry the conversation about beating Dinnerbone will never not be funny to me

· RK mentions that people used to call him m’lord or Ren, and then mere minutes later you have “Ren. You couldn’t save him because of me, could you?” He knows exactly what’s going on here. Not maliciously, but he’s no dense-head, he’s put the pieces together. (post-13 Red: MOST of the pieces. Most of them.)

· Watching Doc slowly stop fighting his nightmares—like, the first time, he fights. The second time, he accepts it but still struggles. And this time… this time he gives up before it even starts. That hurts, man.

· Good grief the whole “get my head chopped off” / “you really don’t want that” bit. O.O I’m not sure what emotion I’m feeling but I’m Feeling An Emotion.

· “Snow’s new. Dream’s not.” </3

· …Doc’s not gonna be a fan of snowier-snow after this trip…

· "Dr. M77" Actually he’s Doc Monster, RK, but we’ll let it go. XD

· OKAY BUT THIS EXCHANGE? The “how are you feeling” / “better” / “you’re a bad liar” / “I said better not great” that’s such a good exchange and I don’t know why every other time I’ve ever seen it used they stop at the lying accusation? Doc with the snappy comebacks, man.

· Aaah, Doc and RK, two establishment bros bonding over a shared disdain for hippies.

· The bit about the fella who wore an iron helmet and called it a powdered wig—fear is in my heart. *shoves Scar into an obsidian box and blocks it closed*

· “Who was Ren to you?” </3

· Doc is more than willing to spread the flames, to sear his loss into RK’s bones. / The king’s face stops him. Ren’s face stops him. Holy CRAP is that a good set of lines. So much going on there, and ALL of it good.

· Again. I wish I could draw. I would draw RK sitting on the edge of the bed, gently hugging a collapsed-in-on-himself Doc. </3

· “And I hate the devil that forced us apart, that mixed my blood with his.” *adds another layer to Scar’s obsidian fort*

· OKAY STARTING CHAPTER THIRTEEN I made the mistake of logging into Tumblr earlier and saw people screaming so I’m sure I’m not ready for this but here we go

· Oh no RK has been hippie-ified

· “You started a paramilitary organization because you have hay fever?” *dies laughing*

· Ugh I need to go back and watch s6 I’ve only seen the tail end of Mumbo’s side of things and there’s so much I don’t know.

· HAHAHAHAH I do know the trident bit though—

· Wait he said Scar

· PANIC

· “Kingslayer. bloodthirsty. Time King. The coward. And the mastermind behind it all, the loyal soldier to the very end, the whole damn reason either of us are in this mess.”

· HOLY CRAP HOLY CRAP HOLY—

· “Is this the afterlife I deserve? After everything, this is the hell I’m going to endure?” I AM SCREAMING

· Doc pinned to the wall with ice, struggling to breathe—I CAN’T WHAT IS HAPPENING

· ((You know I’d get through this a lot faster if I stopped pausing to write reactions—))

· “A break in the ice. A whisper of spring.” Symbolism. Symbolism.

· “Ren was dead when I found him again,” NO I REFUSE TO READ THIS

· “don’t use the hand I built you to hurt yourself” DOC. SIR. MY HEART.

· RK don't run, RK get back here—what are you—

·

·

· I

· JUST

· ACTUALLY

· SCREAMED

· AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

· *several long moments of just breathing*

·

·

·

· *rereads*

· Holy crap on a garbage cracker with an extra serving of what-the-heck sauce

· REN

· REN

· Okay lol okay hahaha calming down

· I literally threw myself back in my chair away from the computer reading that last paragraph. I don't usually... physically react to things I read. LOL. Heh. I’m. Ah. I’m not emotionally invested in this or anything.

· Holy crap.

· Okay. Okay. Okay.

· Um.

· Great chapter, guys. Awesome stuff. Really good. I’m absolutely okay right now and it’s all totally fine.

· …please enjoy your break and get lots of rest and I very much look forward to the return of this fic you have no idea.

· I need to go breathe for a little bit.

EDIT: no, you know what--I'm not going to be a nice polite fangirl over here and quietly hope y'all see this I'm straight up tagging you, @fluffy-papaya and @betweenlands. THANK YOU but also how dare.

[atomicblasphemy]

Can’t promise this will make sense.

But I think I’ve seen people theorize this lovely enormous andominous guy is in fact not King’s dad:

And I’m inclined to agree. I mean, Lilith does mention the island King was hatched at was ancient. So odds are he was being incubated for quite a minute and, when the time was right (which may or may not have something do with that sky window thingy or Emperor Phil’s meddling with the island innate magic), he finally hatched.

Moreover, whatever magic is used to cloak that wee island, to produce King sonic rainboom, or to animate Jean-Luc is probably of a different source to that elemental one harnessed by demons and witches from the Boiling Isles since Hooty was unable to pin down what type of demon King was, suggesting he may not even be one. (Also, on a bit of a tangent I just think that’d play nicely with the contrast between Emperor Phil’s bri’ishness and King’s more francophone tendencies).

Lastly, the carvings, the plant life, of the that Island, the fort’s architecture, the writing system, and the very fact that they managed to build what’s probably the most sophisticated bunker in any dimension would in my eyes point  to two things: one, whatever civilization made the island was powerful, foreign, and is long gone; and whoever King’s dad was he was important enough a figure to justify a lot of resources being used to protect his son. And you know how monarchies are: the king is dead, long live the King. Also, we know next to nothing about the world beyond the Boiling Isles other than Eda telling the Selkidomus to hide further into sea and the fact that the Emipre has some form of navy (be it it a military of commercial one, in either case this suggest the existence of other nation with whom to wage war or engage in trade).

Now, I know, essentially, this brings nothing new to the table. But there’s to things I’d like to point which might do just that.

First and weaker evidence:

This looks like a place that has a similar origin to the Boiling Isles, but not really it.

The reason why this can hardly be called evidence is simple though: Eda was undergoing a very bad acid trip when this happened. So while that whole sequence offers a lot of insight into her psyche, that’s all you can take from highs. Everything else there has a very blurry relation with reality. I mean, I’m not even sure that figure people thought was Amity is really someone from Eda’s past or just a way her mind found to cope with the trauma from years of persecution by a fascist state on account of factors way beyond her control.

Regardless, if this is a real place (and consequently faux-Amity a real person), this would mean confirmation that lands other than the Boiling Isles do indeed exist, and on top of that would suggest at least one candidate for King’s true place of origin (and possibly of Eda’s curse, after she became Icarus she did turn into that suspicious looking scroll after all). Hopefully though, the show won’t really focus on that. I mean, just look at how the show sidelined Willow this season then just imagine what the sheer amount of lore this would imply would do, especially considering how short the run time ahead of us is.

But hey, I don’t even know why I’m speculating on all this and seeing how given what we know pretty much all bets are off... so you know... no harm, no foul.

Anyhow. as I briefly mentioned before whoever the lovely guy (fig. 1) is, he seems pretty huge. And that’s actually quite important. Because there is one physically big (to fit her big heart ofc) with a very unclear backstory that the show seems to bring up only when strictly necessary. This lovely gal:

The one on the left.

The reason why I point this out is: I like her and want to see more of her; her backstory was left deliberately hanging after her second appearance; what we do know about her is that she was part of the “staff of a giant” some thousands of years ago; she’s takes care of palismen which put her in a collision course with Emperor Phil; I like her and want to see more of her.

Now, those second and third points are important because as previously stated that guy (fig. 1) is buff. And so was that other figure portray on King’s forts walls. Maybe enough to call them giants (we don’t know what their growth limit is), but not so much to be a Titan. If there’s really a kinship relationship between them and King, then we should probably expect him to undergo a growth spurt, maybe not one of continental proportions, but still a growth spurt.

Anyway, not only that, but Luz (the one on the right in fig. 3) did offer to help Bat Queen find out more about her past, and the offer probably still stands. Meaning that the show writers have this avenue open, and if she really was King’s dad’s palisman then that make her the most poised one to give him the insight he needs on his past (and that his dad is, most likely, long gone, making his story pretty much like Luz’s and Eda’s in the sense it could be described as learning to accept what you can’t, change what you can and from that forge a self you can actually like). Not only that, but this would make her have a deeper connection with Luz’s camp against Emperor Phil, giving her chance to avenge all the palismen he ate over the years (which as of now she’s probably not aware of).

Also, if all of that is the case and King’s civilization is as ancient as Lilith suggested that’d probably mean she is among the oldest palismen out there if not the oldest, which could offer a solution to the palistrom wood shortage problem. And it would also raise the possibility of King’s dad being the inventor of palismen or something along those lines, not sure what that’d entail and I’m into way too esoteric territory to comfort. 

But on a mostly unrelated note and seeing how I’m taking a few hours to aimlessly speculate: Luz’s palisman. I’ve seen people suggesting she’d pick all sorts of different animals from bats to blue cardinals.

I just think she won’t really get a palisman at all. She will get a staff though, Hunter’s artificial one to be exact.

Here’s the thing, getting a palisman and the accompanying staff is kinda painted as this whole rite of passage from witchling to witchhood so to speak. Meaning that from that point on they are a witch, a part of the Isles. A huge commitment for a human to make, and her character’s  whole subtext thus far this season has been a balancing act between her human past and her magical future, culminating in the promise she makes to Camila.

That’s why the Bat Queen (fig. 3) calls her out on her insecure, tentative response when pushed to state her purpose to the potential palismen - even if covered by her usual upbeat presentation (that girl’s mind is a storm right now, poor child). In other words, for good reason, she sees getting a palisman as too much of a commitment, implying certain sacrifices (her link with the human world) she is not ready to make. 

On the other hand, she found in the Boiling Isles everything she was missing in the human realm. She was accepted there, she has a family, friends, and a girlfriend now, all of whom see her as a cherished part of their lives as much as they are of hers. She belongs in the Isles, she belongs in the human realm, and those two are on equal measure to her.

That’s a pretty tough place for some who just started learning who she is - I mean, she is 14 after all. And as of the place that the show left after Yesterday’s Lie, there’s really nowhere she can say to her self that she belongs to.

However, since we are apparently getting a Hunter redemption either way because that’s what popular media is now, every story has a quota of redemption arcs to fill (preferably of officials of monstrous regimes, but i digress) him and Luz could form a sort of parallel. If, as certain sects of the fandom believes, he is a clone of Emperor Phil’s brother (Bob, that’s his name), that’d make them along with Phil himself the characters with the closest connection to the human. Phil is the one pulling the strings so I can’t really tell what  the parallels there would be other than some kind of “what if Luz had less of a moral center to her”. That’s not the interesting parallel though.

By the way, obviously, this whole word soup’s validity depends on the Emperor being either Phil, Bob, or some derivation. I know the show hasn’t made it quite canon just yet but I mean, come on, they’ve been throwing so many bones at this theory that we could build a skeleton army.

You see, Hunter’s staff is great symbol of the relationship he has with Phil. Something that symbolizes that, the way things are, seeing how he is a magicless witch in magicful world, his only way to truly be a part of the world and of society, the only way he can have a sense of belonging is through Phil, it is through the magic he provides via the staff’s artificial magic.

Moreover, if Phil being human ever comes out, and that Hunter is Bob’s clone, then Hunter would have this delightfully existential question to answer: “Who the fuck am I then?”

Essentially, he’ll be in a similar mind space as Luz buuuut their ways out of that are opposite. In order to make a self for himself the first thing he has to do is to sever his connection with Phil and reaffirm what he wants to do with his life (wild magic). And now he has the means to do just that, he has a staff and a palisman (made of wild magic) of his own, he doesn’t necessarily needs the artificial one anymore. A way he can cut that connection is by giving his old staff to Luz.

From Luz’s point of view that would solve her own existential problem, this staff, made with artificial magic - thus suiting the existence of a human in this magical world - would allow her to either/or conundrum: she can be a witch AND a human. She hasn’t gone through that rite of passage, so she didn’t forgo her humanity (in a metaphorical sense, of course). But she was given, from possibly her biggest enemy, tangible proof that she has a place in the Isle, not by birth, but because she made one for herself through the relationships and bonds she formed, through the way she changed people’s lives just being there and being herself. It isn’t a complete solution, but it is a compromise between those too sides of her being

That leaves that piece of palistrom wood Eda gave Luz out of the equation. What the show would try to do with it is anyone’s guess. But I think something along the lines of “Willow finds out a way to replenish the palistrom wood forests, she needs Luz’s branch to do it, Luz gives it to her out of a sense of moral obligation but is torn about it since she feels she’s giving up her chance at having a staff” would be pretty neat. You know, building up a bit of dramatic tension and whatnot.

Anyway, that’s it. Word soup’s over.

[lord-of-christmas-lights]

I could post regular Narnia headcanons...

Or I could post the continuation of this post and go into depth about how Eustace and Caspian are affected by deity Narnia. Welcome back to Inhuman Narnia 101 and it turned out just as long as the first one so buckle up.

Check out this post by @dorianviolet for another awesome version of Inhuman AU Caspian

Warnings for slight body horror mentions including blood magic stuff, slight religious themes and theological discussion towards the end.

Before anything: This AU directly contradicts canon a lot. I don't care, that's why it's called an AU. Some of it is deliberate, some of it is accidental. I haven't read the books in a number of years, so this is all based on the movies and general information I've picked up from fanfic and tumblr. Discussion on this post is welcomed, criticism and arguments are not. Thank you.

First off, here is the link to an exploration of Dragoning, the Eustace-centric fic I wrote about this. I refer to it repeatedly in this post so if you want the full thing, there it is.

Second, let's get into this. So in my last post, I talked a lot about Narnia, her general existence in this AU, and her motivations as a character. She wants the people in her world to be a part of her, and no one else. Some of this is a conscious choice, and some of it isn't. Eustace's changes throughout his time in VOTDT are definitely not purposeful. It was his greed that drove him to the treasure, it was his own "curse" in becoming a dragon. That was not Narnia reaching out to him and purposefully trying to mold him to her world. As such, he takes on more of an observing role.

Eustace doesn't ever actually directly address his cousins on the subject of their inhumanity, in this fic or in any other I write. He simply sees it, notes it happening, and moves on. Even in the sections in my fics where the subject of inhumanity in general is brought up between Eustace and one of his cousins, it's always about Caspian, the greater Narnian world, or himself.

"Eustace asks why, and Lucy answers. Narnia changes people, she says. It happens to everyone, but the closer you are to her Heart, the greater it is. I don't know where Dragons are. Perhaps closer than we realized. It's exhilarating, isn't it? Aslan will return us to normal though, at the end of our journey." - AEOD

I don't know why, but I don't like the idea of Eustace trying to directly address the Pevensie brand of inhumanity. That line above takes place after his UnDragoning, after the way he sees things has changed, and I see it as him asking what exactly has changed, you know, why are Dragons different than boys?

That brings me to how Eustace himself changes. Now, if he hadn't gone and turned into a Dragon, I imagine Narnia wouldn't have taken much note of him. He's a random human, stuck-up, not at all in line for ruling her lands, and just kind of exists without much else going on. She still would have affected him a little, as she does to all humans in her world but it would have been almost entirely spiritual with no physical changes. And then we got the greatest fuck around and find out scene ever. He becomes a Dragon.

I love dragons, always have, I have a very deep spiritual connection to these creatures, and as such, I have gone all out on worldbuilding for Narnian Dragons. Again, the quote from AEOD, "...the closer you are to her Heart, the greater it is. I don't know where Dragons are. Perhaps closer than we realized." In the Inhuman AU, Dragons were the first creatures Narnia (the deity) and Aslan made when they created Narnia (the world). They just really liked the dragon shape from other worlds and thought, "Hey wouldn't it be cool if our world was populated by these big fire-breathing lizards?" Now I don't actually remember how often Dragons are mentioned and/or featured in the books so I'm going with my idea that Dragons are a somewhat rare but not extinct species. They have to be created through magical means, often through physical transformation of people or objects, though there are a few known cases of natural-born Narnian Dragons. Eustace's creation was the curse on the treasure, though I don't see his Dragoning as a curse itself. As in, the curse isn't in the being a Dragon, it's in how the Dragon was created. So, Eustace experiences this accidental change into a creature that's closer to Narnia's Heart than pretty much any other being in Narnia. They were her first creations, forged from the fire in the Stars, and they are the closest to her magic. And that gets her attention.

Now, if you went and read AEOD, you'll have noticed that one of Eustace's biggest changes (aside from the obvious physical ones) is his vision. This is just a natural thing for Dragons, they are far more in tune with magic and the earth and everything than everyone else, but Narnia's special interest in him definitely amplifies the hell out of his magic sense.

"The people here say dragons see the oddest of things, and he has to assume it's a hallucination....He refuses to give into its whims, reminds himself it's just his imagination. Until Reepicheep comments on it." - AEOD. Following this quote, Reepicheep mentions to Lucy that her inhumanity is returning faster than Edmund's and Eustace has a total panic attack at the idea that what he's seeing is real. He sees what everyone else does, Lucy's stained fingers and Edmund's ability to manipulate words, but he also notices stuff no one else does like the stars in Edmund's throat and the echoes that follow Lucy's words. This is further cemented after his UnDragoning, where the extra stuff he perceived has vanished. Now the general idea in this AU is that the closer to Narnia's Heart you are, the more you know and perceive. Everyone can see some of the more obvious inhuman aspects of the Pevensies, but there are things that only Dragons, druids, Stars, and some other magic folk really close to Narnia's Heart see. I'm not going to get into an exact chart of what certain characters can and cannot see because that can change over time and such and I'd rather leave it mostly up to personal interpretation on what other characters do and do not perceive about the Pevensies and other such inhuman characters.

(Side note—I had to pause in the writing of this post here to go to my second meeting for an autism assessment and I think if I just showed the doctor my notes app and the inhuman/dark fantasy narnia tag on my blog, I'd get the diagnosis instantly lol) So anyways, Narnia senses Eustace becoming a Dragon and is like "Ooohoo what's this?" and starts sort of digging into him in the same way she does to her Kings and Queens. This triggers his already enhanced perception of Narnia (the world) to get even stronger, and this is when he starts seeing stuff like people's souls, Caspian's second heart (more on that soon), and looking at Lucy/Edmund/Lilliandil becomes almost painful because Narnia's magic is so bright in them. Aslan then UnDragons him, which Narnia really doesn't like btw, and Eustace is back to being a fairly average human.

This is where stuff established in AEOD ends.

Now I have so many ideas and half finished fanfics written out in my notes app about Eustace, UnDragoning, and inhumanity and it would be impossible to cover them all here, so I'm just going to go with the highlights. One of my favorite ones is the idea that after Eustace's UnDragoning, he still feels very connected to being a dragon. He's had this taste of pure inhumanity, and something like that doesn't just leave a person. There's a fic I read once long before I was fully invested in this fandom about Eustace and draconity that I will never stop thinking about and was actually the reason I started considering Eustace and Narnian Dragons in this AU. One of the really important things to note is that once a Dragon is created, they can never be uncreated. They can be UnDragoned, where their physical form is returned to whatever it was before their Dragoning (a rock, a talisman, a faun, etc) but their soul has changed on a fundamental level to that of a Dragon. Now for Eustace in my Inhuman AU, this manifests spiritually as a deep longing to return to being a Dragon. Physically, he experiences fun side effects like increased heat tolerance, nails that grow faster than normal, and because Narnia likes to meddle, a single ridge of scales along his spine. In some versions of my drafts, he stays at the end of VOTDT and experiences a slow Dragoning because Narnia's influence on him is that strong, other versions he stays but never quite returns to the Dragon he was before, and in yet other versions, he returns to England and loses that connection enough that physically, he will never be a Dragon again. As I said, Narnia is fascinated by him, she's never really had a human Dragon before, but he is still just a random guy who happens to be related to the Pevensies and as such, she doesn't invest as much time or magic into his inhumanity.

So that's Eustace. This is already such a long post but I promised to talk about both him and Caspian so here we go.

Now, in my last post I talked a bit about how Narnia (the deity) affects the other humans in Narnia (the world) to an extent, but it's nowhere near the amount she does to her Kings and Queens, and also this diminishes more and more the farther you get from Narnia (the country). Telmar is fairly close to Narnia (the country) but as we see in PC, a lot of Narnia's magic and spirit has been diminished by the time Caspian is born. Up until the awakening of the land during the battle, Caspian is essentially 100% human. However, this changes very quickly.

It's hard to pinpoint the exact moment Caspian becomes a King of Narnia. Is it when he refuses to kill Miraz? Is it when Aslan tells him he's one? Is it during his actual coronation? Yes, yes, and yes. I try not to pin it down to an exact moment. By the end of PC though, he's definitely noticing some changes in himself. I have an unpublished part 2 to an exploration of Inhumanity (my only other actually posted fic on this stuff) that I swear I will clean up and get posted soon that goes into further detail on the changes he's noticing at the end of AEOI. Some of the big ones include a second golden heart, seeing some of the life magic in the world around him, and a golden glow on his palms. He also slowly develops the ability to heal, though it's not always consistent. Magic takes practice, lots and lots of practice. In pt 2, the glow on his palms has gotten so bright and also spread around his head like a halo, and Lucy shows him how to conceal it so he's not impossible to look at, but because of Magic™ there's still a dusting of golden powdery stuff across his skin. His blood turns golden because Ben Barnes + golden blood is such pretty imagery, and like the others, it gets sucked down and absorbed into Narnia's Heart when he bleeds in battle. Also when I say he's got a second heart I mean he's got a second fucking heart. Ribcage shift and all. (His appearance doesn't actually change, it's more like a pocket dimension thing going on inside him, but he sure as hell can feel it happening). Having Narnia as a patron goddess just means you have to put up with a second puberty sometimes lol.

Anyways, there's a line in AEOI that I feel explains this stuff really well. "He cannot truly protect the land without becoming a part of it himself." Narnia changes her Kings and Queens because she wants them to be a part of her. Aslan doesn't really see these changes as necessary (in canon, a world without deity Narnia, they don't happen), and if the storyline we pick is the one that's the constant cycle of humanity and inhumanity, it's sort of a push and pull between them. Aslan wants the Pevensies, and by proxy anyone else who rules Narnia or experiences these changes, to keep their humanity, to stay as they were Created by him. Narnia, however, wants them to be as much a part of her as she is of them. It's very clear in both the books and the movies that Narnia (the world) is where these characters belong. In the end, they all come home to her (yes, Susan too because fuck Mr. Clive Staples Lewis). Caspian being anything less than fully inhuman is something she cannot handle. She is constantly having to recreate the Pevensies, reestablish her hold on them, only to have them return to England and become mostly human again. Caspian cannot be taken away from her, he is in this world by birth and she is going to do everything she can to shape him into the ruler he needs to be.

Once again, I would like to state that Aslan and Narnia are not opposing sides of good and evil. Gods cannot be defined by human standards, and to think either Narnia or Aslan completely in the right or wrong in this AU would be, well, an interesting standpoint, but really not the one I'm going for here. I'm not going to say it's a misinterpretation, I am very open to hearing people's thoughts on this AU, and everyone's going to see things differently. Just, please reread what I've written about them before you start making that argument.

Anyways, that wraps this post up because I have spent the better part of the past 6 hours writing this. I spent way more time on Eustace than I intended but it's just so fascinating to think about inhumanity from his perspective considering he's the only one in canon that actually was (briefly) inhuman. Again, if you got this far, congratulations! If you use any of my ideas mentioned here, please tag me, I am so starved for inhuman Narnia content lol.

[carminite-wyrm]

Running Onwards, To the Hope of a New Day (Part 3)

Part 1 | Part 2

(Thank you to everyone who's been reading this fic of mine so far! I've really appreciated all your comments! Also, this will eventually be up on AO3, just not yet because I haven't been able to get an account just yet.)

In which Nyx tries his best, realises a few things, learns a new skill, and commits a minor case of arson.

All in all, Nyx was feeling pretty good about his chances, on his ninth run. He’d learnt from his eighth run that, no, setting the black-market dealer’s place on fire, stealing both the explosives and the phoenix down, and quietly dumping the explosives into one of the rivers that ran through Insomnia wasn’t enough to stop the rebels from bombing the signing ceremony. Considering there was more than one cell, he was sadly unsurprised by this. He’d also figured out that whatever was attracting the daemons was attached to the tracker in the hairpin in a way that he couldn’t just remove, which was a shame.

He learned that he needed to give Crowe a phone in some sort of blast-proof container or casing, because while he’d managed to give Crowe the means to contact him and Libertus sooner, the phone would be severely damaged without one. And, because the phone would be broken, Crowe wouldn’t be able to get in contact with them soon enough to stop Libertus from joining the rebels and giving them the vital information that they needed to launch their attack on the Citadel.

He had also found out that if he told King Regis about the traitorous Glaives he knew would survive the Princess’ extraction, that the King would be able to sever their connection to his magic before they encountered them on either the bridge or the overpass.

Unfortunately, its effectiveness was limited by the fact that there were still Glaives that he hadn’t known were traitors, and so they still had ended up rocketing off the overpass when another Glaive, who Nyx belated recognised as Isra Solis (and Crowe had cursed her out even more viciously than Nyx had, because Isra was as talented with frost magic as Crowe was with fire, and the two had been close, before everything went down).

At this point, Nyx was pretty sure that as soon as they got to that first attempt to escape the city, it was almost guaranteed that they’d be crashing the car sooner or later.

At the very least, Nyx thought to himself, as he finally found an old camera case which he hoped would be enough to hide the phone, this should help with stopping Libertus from leaving. Hopefully.

A day later, he awkwardly held the box of Crowe’s things, waiting for Drautos to move out of earshot. As Libertus raged at Crowe’s apparent death, Nyx took a deep breath, and quickly grabbed Libertus, warping them into one of the nearby alcoves (why there were so many alcoves by the morgue, Nyx had no idea, but he’d take it).

“Nyx, what the hell?!” Libertus gasped, nearly losing his balance at the sudden movement if not for Nyx’s steady grip on his arm.

“Lib…I don’t think Crowe is dead,” Nyx said, mustering the most serious voice he could, which was actually pretty serious considering how much potentially hinged on him getting Libertus to listen. “Look, you know how I gave her some of my curatives, right? Well, I also gave her a phoenix down and an extra phone.”

“…Why? What has that got to do with any of this?”

Nyx rummaged through the box in his hands, searching through for any of the items in question. Thankfully (for the point he was making, at any rate), he could not find any of the things that he had given Crowe.

“They said they recovered everything, right?”

Libertus nodded slowly.

“The phone isn’t here. Not even parts of it.”

Nyx was gratified to see the dawning realisation on Libertus’ face, and silently congratulated himself for finally convincing him of Crowe’s continued survival. And hopefully now, Libertus wouldn’t have too many reasons to leave, or at the very least, no reason to give information to that rebel cell.

“So, what you’re saying,” Libertus said, slowly, almost as if he couldn’t believe it. “Is that Crowe could still be alive.”

“Yes, exactly!” Nyx internally was jumping up and down with joy, this was exactly the reaction he wanted.

“We need to go find her.”

Wait, shit. Celebrated too early.

Nyx wasn’t even certain that Libertus would be able to find Crowe, if he went haring off now. And if he lost track of Libertus, then he wouldn’t to be able to assure himself of Libertus or Crowe’s safety. And if Libertus went running off, then that would alert the traitors that their plan hadn’t gone exactly to plan, and Nyx…couldn’t risk them changing the script that drastically.

“With what resources, Lib?” Nyx hissed, holding back Libertus with a hand on his shoulder. “We don’t even know where she is! She still has the phone, presumedly. We should wait for her call.”

“But what if she can’t call? What if she’s been captured by the Niffs, or- or.”

“…Give it a day, Lib. 24 hours, and if we don’t hear anything, we’ll go find her. But don’t you dare leave without me.” Nyx scowled, hoping that his mild concession wouldn’t be necessary. He didn’t exactly want to show off the fact that he knew the approximate area that Crowe would end up in, two days from this point, but 24 hours would give him time to come up with a reasonable excuse. He hoped, at any rate.

“Fine,” Libertus nodded. “24 hours’ll give us time to prepare, either way.”

“And don’t you dare try and resign, we’re going to need the King’s magic for this. Probably.”

“Alright, alright, hero.” Libertus shook his head, patting Nyx on the shoulder. “Worry about Crowe, not me.”

“I am not going to risk losing you as well, Lib.” Nyx scowled.

Libertus’ expression softened, then, and he drew Nyx into a hug.

“You won’t, Nyx.”

But I have. So many times, Nyx didn’t say, basking in the warmth of his best friend’s embrace. So many times, Libertus. I wish I could tell you.

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

When Nyx’s phone rang early the next day, showing the contact for the phone that he had given Crowe, Nyx was unashamed to admit that he broke down sobbing. Frantically hitting the answer button, he listened to Crowe tell him that Luche had nearly killed her, that she’d been rescued in the nick of time by the combined efforts of the phoenix down and a pair of hunters, and that (this time), for some reason, she was actually all the way at Hammerhead.

Why she was all the way there, Nyx wasn’t quite certain, but Crowe had explained that the phone had actually been slightly damaged after the fight with Luche, but when Crowe had been trying to get it to actually make a call, one of the hunters had said that there was a mechanic over at Hammerhead, who could repair it.

Nyx wondered why Crowe hadn’t gone to the outpost last time, surely an outpost as well-established as Hammerhead would have been the ideal place to take an injured Glaive to contact her allies. Then he realised that in the last run, the phone had been completely toasted, and perhaps the hunters had not realised that Crowe was a member of the Kingsglaive, until they had spotted the Imperial dropships and Crowe had gone racing off after them.

Still, he did have some other questions to ask her.

“Wait, hold up, why couldn’t the hunters call us for you? Don’t they have phones of their own?”

“Batteries died.”

Are you fucking kidding me?! Nyx thought. What were the bloody chances of that happening?!

“What.” He said instead.

“Yeah, apparently they were going to head to one of the smaller, nearer outposts because there’s some spares there, but when I told them I needed to get in touch with a member of the Kingsglaive fast, I think they broke like four or five road rules to get me here as fast as they could.”

Nyx couldn’t help but laugh at the image, before slowly managing to calm himself down.

“Can you hold for a moment? I need to get Libertus here before he does something stupid and tries to rush after you.”

“Sure, Nyx. Get him in here, I bet the big guy’s worrying his ass off about me. I sure won’t be going anywhere, the hunters said it was risky enough bringing me all the way over here in the first place.”

Nyx sped down the hallway, and raced for the stairs, almost knocking Luche down the stairs (if only) in his haste to reach Libertus. He slammed open the door, having only wasted a few seconds fumbling with his own set of keys beforehand.

“LIB!” He yelled, as he shut the door behind him.

“What?!” Libertus yelled back, from inside the bathroom, where Nyx could hear the sounds of the shower running. “It better be important, I only just got the hot water running!”

Oh, whoops.

Three minutes later, Nyx was awkwardly sitting on Libertus’ couch whilst Libertus talked with Crowe, the other man significantly less irritated at Nyx’s interruption when Nyx had told him he had Crowe on the other end of his phone. He didn’t mention to Libertus later, when the man had finally re-entered the main area of his flat and put the phone on speaker, that he had definitely heard the sound of Libertus sobbing even with the continued sound of running water. Nyx was honestly just happy that Libertus was still here, still with him, and that Crowe was still alive.

“Shit, Nyx.” Libertus finally said, after Crowe had fully retold her story. “Luche’s a fucking traitor. We should…we should tell the Captain.”

Nyx froze, from where he was preparing to head off to be part of the Princess’ escort into Insomnia.

“I…I’m not sure we should.” Nyx admitted, trying not to make it apparent that he absolutely distrusted anything and everything Drautos said or did. “The details of Crowe’s mission should have been confidential, as soon as she left the city. But despite the precautions that were taken, Luche was still able to find her, and nearly kill her. If Luche’s a traitor, what’s to say there aren’t any other traitors in the Kingsglaive? What’s to say that the Captain’s office hasn’t already been compromised?”

“Shit, is there anywhere else we can take this?”

“What about the Crownsguard Marshal? The Crownsguard deal with internal affairs, right?” Crowe chipped in.

“We could…but I’m due in for Citadel duty in ten minutes, and we can’t afford any possible traitors knowing something’s up just yet.” Nyx scowled, frustrated at how things had lined up. “Lib, can you see if you can talk to the Marshal?”

“Nyx, you know how I feel about the Crownsguard,” Libertus shook his head. “With my luck, I’d end up just pissing them off, and that’s the opposite of getting them to listen. Chances are, I’m not even going to make it anywhere close to the Marshal’s office.”

“Damn it.” Nyx sighed. “I’ll see if I can find him, when it gets to my lunch break.”

“I’ll see if I can think of any way to get Crowe back here soon, I’m certain Crowe showing up alive will lend support to our whole ‘Luche is a filthy traitor’ argument.” Libertus nodded. “Best of luck, hero.”

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

If one were to inquire as to why Nyx Ulric of the Kingsglaive was currently sitting with his head in his hands, barely an hour after his shift had ended, on the steps just outside the Kingsglaive barracks, he would tell them to politely ‘fuck off’.

It was, perhaps, not the most diplomatic of responses, but Nyx felt it easily summed up how he was presently feeling, after the utter shitshow that was his attempt to find the Marshal of the Crownsguard.

The actual searching and inquiry itself was quite fast. He’d only had to step into the Crownsguard building asking to see the Marshal, only to find out one little thing. One key thing he honestly wished he’d known far sooner, because it explained so many things.

The Marshal was not in the damn city.

Apparently, the man was off on some sort of confidential mission, due to return the bloody day before the signing ceremony for some Astrals-damned reason.

That was too late for any of Nyx’s current (and possibly future) plans.

And there was no way he, a single Kingsglaive, could even get the Marshal to return sooner, it simply wasn’t within the bounds of his current abilities.

So that avenue was closed to him, for the time being. Perhaps there were other people in the Marshal’s office he could approach, but Nyx simply did not know who would be a trustworthy, reliable person he could talk to in that branch of the military.

He briefly considered Fortis, before shaking his head. That man could be relied upon in a crisis, he had to admit, but…to most people, the only crisis happening at the moment was the political nightmare of the ceasefire. To most, it was a matter for diplomats and Kings, not foot soldiers and guardsmen.

Scowling off into the distance, he wondered whether it might have just been best to get Crowe back into the city, so that he could at least go to the King with direct evidence of Luche’s treachery. With any luck, Luche would have spilled everything, and then they could have killed Glauca when he inevitably fought back.

It seemed a bit late to try that this time around, though. Tomorrow, Insomnia would be invaded, after all.

Nyx sighed, before readying himself for his night shift guard duty, and the Princess’ inevitable kidnapping. Time to see if he could, at the very least, keep all his friends alive for longer this time around.

The next morning, he let himself back into Libertus’ room, to kick his plan of ‘Keep The King and My Friends Alive At Least’ into motion.

“Lib, I’m…I’m going to go talk to the King,” He said, and had a moment of amusement at Libertus nearly dropping his bowl of oatmeal in shock. “Crowe’s still at Hammerhead, yeah? Presumably heavily injured, but not injured enough to be unable to hold a call, right?”

“I would assume so,” Libertus nodded, after regaining his composure. “You sure you can get the King himself to listen? He’s a Lucian, and a noble to boot. You know how the combination of the two tend to treat folks like us.”

“…I think he’d listen. We have proof, now, and the next highest-ranked person isn’t even going to be here yet.”

“I still think we should tell the Captain-“

“No!”

Nyx winced as Libertus levelled a critical eye at him, the force of his disagreement clearly a bit…too much.

“Nyx.”

“Yes, Libertus?” Please don’t ask what I think you’re about to.

“Why are you so adamant about not telling the Captain?” Libertus put down his bowl, and crossed his arms, a pose familiar enough to Nyx that he knew Libertus wouldn’t take a vague answer. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“I- I think the Captain is also a traitor.” There. He said it.

Nyx waited, as the seconds ticked by, as Libertus seemed to turn the thought over in his head. He waited, for the inevitable doubt, the claims of paranoia gone too far in the wake of Luche’s betrayal.

“I’m guessing you don’t have any evidence, do you.”

Nyx raised an eyebrow. That wasn’t a complete expression of doubt, even if Libertus did still seem highly sceptical of his not-theory.

“No. It’s just,” Nyx fished around for the right word that wouldn’t cause more suspicion, considering he still wasn’t sure he could just outright say ‘yeah I’ve watched Drautos murder King Regis like three times by now’. “A gut feeling. An instinct.”

“Well, your gut instinct hasn’t led us astray much at all, has it,” Libertus sighed, his stance loosening dramatically as he sat down heavily. “Astrals damn it. And considering Drautos is actually respected by the Lucians, they won’t be likely to take your word without actual evidence to back it up.”

“And obviously, I couldn’t exactly break into his house or office to look for evidence.”

“Well, you could, it’d just be difficult.”

“What.”

Libertus shrugged, before gesturing at himself and Nyx.

“We’ve both got magic, idiot.”

“Yes, and? It’s not exactly conducive to breaking and entering, you know. Security cameras exist, and I can’t exactly fireball my way into his office.”

Libertus blinked up at Nyx, before vanishing in the slightest glow of crystal-blue.

“Oh.”

Nyx sat down, on the floor of Libertus’ shoebox of a flat, and laughed into the palm of his hand. He laughed, until he registered Libertus (now visible again), shaking his shoulder.

“You good?”

“I. Yeah,” Nyx wiped away a tear from the corner of his eye. “I can’t believe it didn’t occur to me. Six, it was so obvious all along!”

He looked up at Libertus, and grinned. “Can you teach me?”

“What, now?!” Libertus looked around, before sighing once again. “You want to go searching whilst the Signing Ceremony happens, don’t you? Fuck, of course you are, you reckless piece of shit.”

“Well-“ Actually, I was more thinking it’d be good for a future loop.

“Fine. You’ve got forty minutes before your next citadel guard shift, you better be listening closely, hero. The others in my squad took at minimum three days to hold this for longer than a few seconds. You might be a warp-spammer, but this shit takes more focus than a shield, for all that it drains your magic slower.”

“I’m listening, Lib.”

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

By the time Nyx had to leave for the citadel, he could hold the invisibility for all of two seconds, a feat that Libertus had briefly praised, before going right back to fondly complaining about Nyx’s aptitude with all things magical. It wasn’t enough to be truly practical, but Nyx figured he’d have time to practice it more, next loop.

“You’ll call me, yeah, if anything goes south?” Libertus had asked, grabbing hold of Nyx before he could leave.

“Yeah,” Nyx nodded. “I will.”

An hour later, he was hastily calling Crowe with the coordinates he had by now memorised, as he made his way to the rest of the Kingsglaive with their orders to mobilise. As for Libertus, he’d updated him as to the situation, tasking Libertus with keeping an eye on the situation within the city, and calling him if anything happened.

Obviously, Nyx knew that things were definitely going to happen, but the point was that he wanted Libertus to not run off and potentially get himself killed. Nyx had a plan, this time around, or at least the makings of one, and he was fairly certain he’d be able to keep his friends, the Princess, and the King alive this time around.

First off though, he had to survive the Princess’ extraction.

With a deep breath, he launched himself up onto the Niflheim ship, experience allowing him to stick the landing instead of the awkward crash his first time around. With expert motions, he directed the Glaives through the ship, right up to the point where Pelna found the Princess.

“Pelna, get out of there, now. Don’t go down that corridor, I spotted a really nasty daemon that way.” Nyx said, hurriedly, as he sprinted down the hallway to meet them. He easily ducked under a traitor’s attack, ripping off their mask just before he slit their throat.

He’d forgotten to check their identities the first few times around, too busy with trying to survive and keeping his friends alive, and while he knew he wouldn’t be able to get all of them in one run, he sure could at least find out who a few of them were.

Distantly, as he expertly tripped another traitor and killed them before they could even try and attack Pelna from behind, he wondered how much he had changed, already, with how many times he’d already replayed the past five days. Before this hell week, before the ceasefire, before the time loops, these Glaives had been his fellow comrades-in-arms. He’d saved them, and been saved in turn, on countless missions, in countless fights. And yet here he was, barely batting an eye as sisters and brothers turned on them all, as he cut them down within seconds of them raising their blades and spells against their former friends and allies. Their movements were so familiar, so scripted, he knew exactly how to move to counter their attacks, how to slip under their guard and slice them apart. The only true dangers, it seemed, would be the daemons, Luche and his posse, and General Glauca.

He shoved Pelna back with one hand as they rounded the corner, tanking a fireball from Tredd with his own shield, before retaliating with his own rapid blasts of lightning. He could hear Tredd curse, ducking around his own corner just as a tentacle from the octopus daemon began to tear the ship they were on in two.

He quickly directed Pelna and Lunafreya onto the ship they would escape in, nodding to himself as Crowe suddenly warped onto the open deck with a gasp, mirroring the events of Loop 7. He quickly shoved a couple of hi-elixirs into her hand, before turning around and seeing if he could spot Luche’s escape ship. Sadly, he couldn’t, and resigned himself to seeing those assholes again later, during the overpass chase.

“Shit, Crowe!” Pelna called out. “You’re alive?!”

“Yeah, no thanks to fucking Luche.” Crowe spat, and Nyx mentally noted down that two hi-elixirs were so much better than just one single elixir. “Nyx, you need to call Libertus, let him know what a shitshow this has all turned out to be.”

“And it’s gotten worse.” Pelna agreed, pointing out the falling Wall.

“We need to return to the Citadel-“

“Yeah, I know. The King and the Ring, right?” Nyx sighed, already calling Libertus.

“Yes, exactly- Wait, how did you know that?” Lunafreya suddenly appeared in Nyx’s field of view, eyes bright with concern, just as Nyx had finished talking to Libertus.

“You’re talking to the Glaive who’s pulled the most Citadel duty out of everyone, I picked up a few things,” Nyx said, suddenly aware of the fact that the importance of the Ring was…probably not the most common of information around. He hastily changed the subject. “I let Lib know we were coming back, he’s going to be waiting for us in the Citadel garage.”

“You sure he’ll be alright? What with that leg of his?” Pelna inquired.

“He might not look like it, but Lib is a very good driver.” Nyx thought back to the past loops. In every single one where he’d actually made it to that plaza, Libertus had, without fail, successfully crashed a car into Glauca. And on top of that, he’d also successfully navigated his way through a city in the midst of getting razed, whilst Nyx and the Old Wall had been tearing up the city in their respective fights. Libertus was the best damn driver Nyx knew, broken leg or not.

The four of them made it to the Citadel in what felt like record time, running into the signing room just in time to once again see Ravus’ arm on fire. Pelna and Lunafreya quickly hustled the King out of the room, whilst Crowe and Nyx did their best to harry Glauca with alternating blasts of fire and lightning. As they ran out of the secret tunnel and into the garage, Nyx grinned as he Libertus waved at them all. As Crowe rushed to give Libertus a one-armed hug, Nyx quietly relayed the identities of the rest of the traitorous Glaives he could be certain of, as well as his suspicions about Captain Drautos, to the King, who nodded even as he paled considerably at Nyx’s revelations.

“Astrals, but am I glad to see you, Crowe!” Libertus called out.

“You too, Libertus! Better not have done anything stupid whilst I was out.”

“Cool catch-up, but we’ve got General Glauca right on our heels,” Nyx said, slamming down another shield over the tunnel that they had just left. “We’ll take two cars. Pelna, you’re driving that car over there. Crowe, you and King Regis can get into Lib’s car. Me and the Princess will be with Pelna. We’ll exit together, and Pelna will take the lead. Lib, I want you to stay as close as possible to us, me and Crowe will be taking charge of killing anything that gets in our way, but there’s no guarantee we’ll be able to clear a path, so stay vigilant. Make sure your comms stay open.”

“Got it.” They all nodded, Crowe even giving him a thumbs up as she slid into Libertus’ car.

The drive out of the Citadel went exactly as Nyx had expected, and he quietly cackled to himself even as he leaned out of the window to throw a handful of lightning at one of the MT Armours chasing them. As he spotted the ship carrying Luche, Tredd, and the rest of their group slowly coming into view, he threw a fireball at them, before ducking back down into the car. Hastily, he grabbed the Princess’ hairpin from her, the woman too shocked by the suddenness of his action to protest.

“Pelna, hand me the wheel.”

“Nyx what-“

“You’re still good at warping, yeah? I need you to warp the Princess to Lib’s car,” Nyx sighed as Lib predictably began to also protest. “Lib, get someone to hold that door open.”

“Nyx, you fucking-“

“Pelna, now!”

To his credit, the man didn’t hesitate even with his protests, throwing his dagger in a shower of blue as he tugged the Princess along, leaving Nyx alone in his car.

Not for much longer, of course, because just as Luche and Tredd leaned out of their ship to try and shoot at them all, and just as Petra Fortis in his armoured van appeared in Nyx’s rearview mirror, Nyx turned his car to face Luche and Tredd.

The look on their faces as he drove the car straight at them would be one Nyx would savour for a long, long time. Luche’s string of curses as Nyx warped out of the car just before impact, would also be on the list of things that gave Nyx so much joy.

He landed on the side of Fortis’ van with a quiet oomph, clinging onto the kukri now lodged into the metal. A few moments later, he’d managed to swing himself into the front seat, after Fortis had rolled down the window for him.

“You’re insane, Ulric. Actually insane.” Fortis said, staring at him with wide eyes even as they caught up with Libertus and the others.

“Best warper in the Kingsglaive.” Nyx replied smugly, and winced as the yelling over his comm reached an even louder level.

After that, they somehow made it all the way to within view of the West Gate, even with the occasional daemon or magitek soldier that they ran into. It seemed Nyx’s gambit with the crashed car and the hairpin had paid off, for now, and he quietly let himself relax a little, though he kept an eye out for anything else that might stop their escape.

It was that caution that had him spotting the glimmer of silver and purple before it hit the ground in front of Libertus’ car, his yell of alarm all that they needed to grind to a halt just in time to avoid General Glauca slicing their car in two.

“Shit, Fortis, you and Lib are gonna have to guard the King and Princess, we’ll try and hold him off. If you see an opening, get out of here.” Nyx said, as he chucked a kukri out of the window, and began doing his level best to once again kill Glauca.

As Crowe covered the King and Princess’ retreat to Fortis’ van, followed by a very worried Libertus, Nyx threw himself headlong into the fight, Pelna darting in and out where he could, the two of them trying to keep Glauca’s attention long enough for Crowe to be able to join in.

“Why do you fight, for a King who would abandon us all to save his throne and his son?” Glauca roared, as Nyx warped out of the way of his sword, flinging a blast of flame to hide Pelna’s approach. “Walk away, Glaives, and you will see another day in peace, the Empire has promised it!”

“The way I see it, whatever Niflheim promised you isn’t enough to justify the utter destruction laid in its wake, Drautos.”

Glauca actually froze, momentarily, as Nyx called him by his actual name. And then cursed, because Crowe had apparently figured out how to properly stash the King and the Princess away, and had now joined the fight as well with a blast of flame that Nyx could see had melted part of his helmet.

“So, you know, then.”

“Yeah, I do, you traitorous bastard.”

The three Glaives did their best to fight Glauca, a blast of lightning from Nyx actually causing the armoured man to stumble backwards a little. This…wasn’t going terribly, Nyx thought, warping past Glauca’s shoulder and swinging back down, Pelna trying to go for Glauca’s knees at the same time. They were both flung backwards for their efforts, but Crowe had used that opportunity to slam another two fireballs at Glauca, only one of which the man was able to deflect.

In the corner of his eye, he saw a daemon making its way to them, ambling towards Fortis’ van. Nyx cursed, and launched himself at Glauca, trying to herd him out of the way so that Fortis could make a break for it, before the daemon got to them.

“Crowe, Pelna, we need to get Glauca out of the way!”

Pelna nodded, grunting as he parried a punch, before warping away from Crowe’s attack. Nyx dove forward immediately after, hissing as Glauca’s sword drew a sharp cut across his cheek, but it was worth it as he managed to get close enough to unleash a pulse of lightning strong enough to send Glauca back a few vital steps. He warped out of the way of his retaliation, letting Pelna take over briefly as he cracked an elixir onto himself.

They just needed to get Glauca a little further away, and then Fortis could, hopefully, get out of the city.

But Pelna was tiring, and so was Nyx, the fighting from earlier having already taken its toll even though they had come out of that mess mostly unharmed.

Glauca, on the other hand, seemed to be fuelled by whatever cursed shit made up that armour of his, and probably a few other things as well.

At this rate, Nyx had the feeling he’d be needing to put that damn Ring back on his finger. Again.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Pelna yelled as he dodged several swings of the sword, managing to avoid getting skewered only for Glauca to catch him around the waist and fling him across the road.

“Pelna!” Nyx yelled, unable to check on his friend as Glauca was now attacking him, and thank the Astrals that Nyx had already seen some of these moves and knew how to counter them, because it should be illegal how fast Glauca could move, in armour like that.

Nyx managed to blast Glauca in the way of one of Crowe’s fire blasts, just as he heard the screeching of tires. He grinned, even as Glauca doubled his attacks at him, Nyx holding up a shield just as he felt the van fly past him, the vehicle close enough to almost him.

“You do realise that you will die here, that nothing will stop me from killing that coward King.” Glauca growled, as he batted Nyx away.

“Your armour’s looking real bad, you know that?” Nyx quipped back, nodding to Pelna as the two of the charged at Glauca, Nyx aiming a blast of frost at Glauca’s feet whilst Pelna tried for a headshot.

They both missed, Glauca almost managing to get a kick out at Nyx, but they both managed to distract him enough to take yet another gout of fire to the head.

“You. I knew I should’ve had you killed when I had the chance!” Glauca roared, charging suddenly at Crowe, a sliver of skin visible along his collarbone.

“No!” Nyx yelled, warping after him, only to get a fist straight to his chest, winding him as he crumpled to the ground.

He could see Crowe warping out of the way, but she’d never fought Glauca in melee combat before, and melee wasn’t even her specialty-

The axe that lodged itself in Glauca’s collarbone surprised them all.

Glauca’s yell of surprise and pain was nearly drowned out by Libertus’ warcry, as the man suddenly appeared, his axe in both hands as he braced himself and completed his swing, turning that sliver of collarbone into a bloody gash, although Nyx could see the silver of the armour already trying to repair itself.

“That’s my sister you nearly killed, you bastard.” Libertus spat, and ducked as Crowe tossed fireball after fireball at Glauca, before she turned and set the approaching daemon alight as well.

“How-“

Nyx didn’t give him time to finish, letting Pelna use him as a springboard to launch right at Glauca, the man plunging a dagger right into that open wound before he landed in front of Libertus and Crowe, ready to help defend them.

“Damn, he’s still going?” Pelna shook his head, flinging up a shield to briefly deflect Glauca’s next attack. “That should’ve at least slowed him down significantly.”

Nyx warped back into the fight, giving the three time to reposition themselves as he tried his best to carve out more of Glauca. This fight was just as frustrating as it had been all the times before, as even though he had his friends with him, it was balanced out by the fact he didn’t have the extra power from the Ring. For all of his experience, Glauca was the worst enemy he had to fight, and it showed.

Drautos had been their commander, their beloved Captain. He knewall of their moves, or at least most of them, their fighting styles, their habits and their weaknesses. And that meant that he could counteract them with more ease than he should have.

Which meant that Nyx had to do something unpredictable, something so utterly insane not even Drautos could predict it.

His gaze skittered over the road, looking for something he could maybe use to his advantage. He couldn’t see anything, just broken concrete and asphalt, Libertus’ by-now trashed car, the corpse of a daemon smouldering behind them-

He looked back at the car, where there was a puddle of fuel slowly leaking from its side.

His first thought was that it was a wonder it hadn’t caught alight, what with Crowe’s flames. His second thought was that surely Glauca wasn’t completely explosion-proof, even with that armour of his.

“Guys!” He yelled, sprinting back into the fight. “I’m going to try something, I need you to herd him backwards, to the car!”

“What are you going to do, trip me?” Glauca actually sounded a bit amused, even though he was, in fact, getting slowly pushed backwards by their combined assault.

“No, even better,” Nyx watched as Glauca was finally backed up to the car, and probably as far as he’d get before he’d clue into the petrol leaking from Libertus’ car. “Everyone, get back!”

Pelna’s eyes widened in understanding, as he warped away and grabbed Libertus with him, and Nyx tossed as large a fireball as he could at Glauca and the car.

The resulting inferno wasn’t quite as impressive as the explosion Nyx had been hoping for, but the screaming from within was.

“Do you…think that’d kill him?” Pelna asked, as they all stared at the flaming wreck, from a safe distance away.

“I’m…not actually sure,” Nyx admitted. “Actually, are cars supposed to catch on fire like that?”

“If they’re a good quality car, no.” Libertus growled. “Cheap piece of shit.”

“Eh, better safe than sorry.”

The three men looked at Crowe as she began to hurl more fireballs at the car (and presumably Glauca), her barrage only pausing when she had to crack an elixir, before continuing on. Nyx shrugged, and joined in, except with lightning bolts. Her logic was sound, in his opinion, even if Pelna and Libertus were staring at them with increasing amounts of fear.

There was one slightly harrowing moment as they watched Glauca actually stumble forwards a few moments later, but Nyx and Crowe’s panicked blasts of lightning and fire respectively quickly had him crumpling to the ground. They stayed where they were, for a few moments longer, to see if he would get back up, before Nyx sprayed the flaming wreck with a light blizzard, and they moved closer to see whether Glauca truly was dead.

“Oh, yikes.” Crowe muttered, staring at the body on the road.

“That’s a lot of- I don’t think a burned body is supposed to smell like that.” Pelna commented, holding a hand up to his nose.

“Must be the armour, that shit was magitek. Must’ve had a bad reaction to all that fire we were hurling at him at the end.” Libertus reasoned.

Nyx simply marched up to the body, and stabbed what he assumed was the head. Twice.

“Alright, he’s definitely dead.” Nyx concluded. “If he wasn’t before, by some miracle, he is now.”

Crowe cackled, a little hysterically.

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A little later, Nyx trudged behind his three friends as they headed for the nearest haven, presumably to rest and recover before they tried to meet up with any other survivors of the Invasion.

Dawn was breaking on the horizon, and he was simultaneously relieved by the sight, and dreading its arrival.

On one hand, as far as he was aware, he’d managed to keep all of his friends, and the King and the Princess, alive. Even Fortis was alive, and that was something Nyx hadn’t expected. But on the other hand, Insomnia was still a smouldering ruin, the Empire had gotten away with that Crystal, and Nyx was pretty certain the fatality count was up in the hundreds of thousands.

Up until now, he hadn’t managed to live past the dawn, had always died as soon as the sun had fully risen above the horizon. What if his survival now meant that the loops were finished? The thought scared him, somehow. He’d gotten used to slowly inching his way to figuring out the multitude of things that had led up to the city’s fall, and the destruction that came with it. What if he could’ve had more chances to try and stop everything from happening in the first place, if only he figured out a way to die before the dawn? What if there were parts to this puzzle he didn’t yet know about, vital pieces that could ensure everyone’s survival without the destruction of the city?

But, if he looped back now, then wouldn’t all the fighting he had just done be for naught? He looked at his friends, at their tired, but cheerful, expressions. To them, they’d just survived one of the greatest tragedies since the Fall of Galahd, and had even managed to kill the legendary General Glauca, the man responsible for the destruction of not only Galahd, but also Tenebrae, and now Insomnia.

He couldn’t- He couldn’t take that away from them.

And so, Nyx Ulric watched as the sun rose above the horizon, Pelna cheering as one of the imps that had been about to approach them almost instantly melted away into daemonic miasma.

And stopped.

He shuddered, clutching his head as a sudden spell of dizziness overtook him. He vaguely heard Libertus’ cry of alarm, as he stumbled backwards, something tugging on his chest even as the world around him seemed to flicker in and out like a bad television signal. Nyx had the abrupt sensation of the ground beneath him giving way, before his vision fragmented, like a broken mosaic almost, and he fell, dragged along by an unseen force. The swirl of colours that his vision had devolved into was nauseating, and Nyx shut his eyes, the sensation of freefalling continuing until-

He sat upright with a shout, as the world snapped back into place, and he was greeted by the familiar sight of his dimly lit apartment, sunlight streaming through the cheap curtains.

[devildom-dedicated-daydreams]

Afterstory (Diavolo)

Arc 3: The Cursed Witch Seduces the Wild Prince

@karmaaf @mac-the-oregonian @imagine-my-hero-and-vills @lady-naho @viptrash @cinnamon-bisquit xxnio-chanxx @pen-observing I wanna be friends with you, too <3 

“Princess … ”

Diavolo cradled your body closer to him. Your warmth seeped out with each second. Stale blood dripped from your wounds.

Diavolo chuckled drily.

Those gentle hands that would pat his head, the calloused but lovely fingers that drove him crazy with each touch--he will never feel them again.

Chuckling became laughing.

His flames blazed brighter and pitch-black smoke rose from earth. Rising higher into the sky, Diavolo’s wings grew and stretched so far they covered the sun and engulfed the city in darkness. From his flames swung out a tail with scarlet scales. It swept across the buildings, killing hundreds and destroying everything.

“Beast!” The humans screamed. “The witch summoned a beast!”

“Witch?” Diavolo repeated.

His maniacal laugh thundered throughout the city.

“You killed her for that?” The woman he loved was a soul who would never use her magic selfishly. You never turned away a patient even when they disrespected you.

The red dragon tenderly gazed at the lifeless body in his hand.

The skin had lost its vigor, scratches covered your face, and the arms …

How long did you suffer? How much did you suffer?

If only … if only he stayed with her.

“Unholy beast!”

Diavolo’s thoughts were interrupted when the human soldiers started shooting arrows at him. One arrow flew past his claws and almost hit your corpse.

The red dragon roared into the sky.

The large city that once bustled with life was reduced to ashes in less than half a day.

Diavolo flew back to your home. When he found the squatters wearing your clothes and the kids trampling the flowers you adored, he almost sent them to the next life. But he sensed the mana that radiated from them. It was your mana.

“Take off the clothes that aren’t yours and leave behind what belongs in this house,” he ordered with glowing eyes.

There were a foolish few who disobeyed by pocketing a ruby Diavolo gifted. They were two kids, the ones who threw rocks at you--

Half their faces were melted off.

“A saint touched your souls so I won’t kill you,” Diavolo said. “But don’t test my patience.”

The refugees ran for the mountains and Diavolo was left alone.

“I’m here,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head. “I’m right here, princess, so come back soon … ”

Gabriel and Lilith arrived a few weeks later. They’ve only now just heard the news.

Shock didn’t begin to describe what they felt at the scene that welcomed them.

Your humble mud house was transformed into a wooden cottage. The tiny patch of soil you proudly called a garden was bigger, lining the side of the river with herbs and flowers and other plants.

Life seemed to overflow

Gabriel barged inside the cottage.

The crown prince of hell sat on the edge of a bed. He was wiping the feet of a corpse, his eyes full of mad love while telling a story about how big the pomegranates were.

“I promise I didn’t use any magic. When you wake up, let’s make some dessert with them--”

A fist flew and Diavolo landed on the ground.

“You crazy … ” Gabriel’s chest heaved. He didn’t even know where to begin.

Luckily, Lilith was there. She patted his shoulder before approaching the prince. “Cousin, this is wrong.”

Diavolo lifted his head, eyes empty before focusing on Lilith. He grinned mechanically. “Oh, I didn’t notice you coming in.”

The angels exchanged glances.

“Do you like the house? I built it myself.”

“Diavolo--”

“I was giving princess a bath, she’s so spoiled--”

“Diavolo,” Lilith cut him off. “Diavolo, MC is dead.”

“She’s sleeping, Lilith. She can’t be dead, she’s going to be the queen of hell. We promised we’d be together so there’s no way she’s dead.”

“Oy,” Gabriel stepped forward, glaring at the prince. “Stop running away from this, bastard. MC is dead. She’s gone.”

“Gone,” Diavolo repeated with a whisper.

Your soul was gone.

Your soul was gone.

Your soul was gone.

But that’s not possible. When you became one, he reinforced his seal so you would be bound to him forever. But your soul was gone. You weren’t just dead, your soul was gone. He couldn’t feel it anymore. Your soul vanished like a whisper in the wind.

Gone--

You were gone.

Diavolo clawed at his chest, cutting skin and drawing blood. His insides twisted. He buckled down and threw up.

“Right--” He croaked as angry fat, angry tears blurred his vision. He pulled on his hair. “She’s gone. She’s gone … Even Barbatos said her soul … she’s gone.”

“Do you think that’s true?” Lilith knelt down and looked straight into his eyes. “Diavolo, think again.”

“A soul is immortal. She may be lost,” Gabriel said. “But she’s not irretrievable. And when she comes back is this how you want to greet her?” He gestured at the ice-cold body.

Diavolo chuckled wearily. “What do you know?”

“I know that you didn’t deserve her--”

“Gabriel--” Lilith tried to calm him down again but he shrugged her off.

“--I know that she deserves more than a pathetic, sobbing mess who avoids responsibility.”

The demon prince couldn’t bring himself to retort. Gabriel was right, he was pathetic.

“I know this doesn’t sound much from an uncultured girl like me but … but I want to work together with you. I want to be a partner who can help you with your problems.”

Your words echoed in the back of his mind and Diavolo laughed again. With a tearful smile, he looked out the window and into the clear morning sky.

“You win, princess. You always win.”

Meanwhile, in a roofless room surrounded by stars and with walls that stretched so far you could not see the end, two men played a game of chess.

The one who held an ebony pawn sighed. It was King Drakul of Devildom.

His opponent, a man with greying hair crudely dyed purple at the tips, quirked an eyebrow. “Something wrong, old friend?”

“I was just thinking--it’s very hard being a father.”

“Oh.” His opponent nodded in agreement. “I feel ya. Lately, Lili has taken an interest in the human realm and Levi…the one with the bowl haircut keeps messing with the time warps. He’s already reading literature that shouldn’t be in existence yet.”

“First of all, their names are Lilith and Leviathan. Secondly, my case is different from yours. Diavolo--”

“It’s about time Diavolo fixes his behavior.”

“I suppose … ”

“Cheer up, Drakul. Our plan worked, or rather, it’s going to work. Ain’t that right, Barbatos?”

Barbatos appeared with a burst of green smoke. He refilled their teacups. “You are correct, Lord God.”

Drakul sighed again.

“Hey now, you can’t start regretting it now,” said Lord God. “I went AWOL for an extra five thousand years just for this moment.”

He disappeared for millenia, causing conflict among the angels, and then arrived in time to stop a full-scale war. Not to mention, he had to create a random body and puppeteer it from the sidelines while waiting for a Host.

“You can’t soften up now. Otherwise all that effort to educate Diavolo would have gone to waste. Think of those poor souls who failed and got sent to punishment worlds because of him, think of those humans he killed when he went feral the other day--think of how many loops Barbatos has gone through--and the beating Diavolo almost gave him!” Lord God dropped a sugar cube into his cup.

“I know, I know … But those 2430 souls are on you. You could easily have asked Barbatos who would be the successful Host.”

“You know I don’t roll like that. It’s boring to know everything—why do ya think I sealed away my powers?” Lord God added another sugar cube. “Ah, speaking of, what do you think of my newest recruit? The second genius I’ve encountered since I started this gig.”

“Hm, let’s see.” Drakul grabbed a flower-shaped cookie. “Sharp-witted, competent and ruthless. I say, they’d be an excellent queen.”

Lord God spat out his tea. “You can’t--cough--you can’t be serious.”

“You can't deny that there is a possibility." He turned to his butler. "Right, Barbatos?”

A mysterious look ghosted over Barbato's eyes, then he grinned subserviently. “It is as you say, sire.”

Author’s note:

If you know me from Tumblr then you already know that I have this headcanon: In the past Diavolo was a wild, rebellious blood knight but now he is desperate to maintain peace in the three realms because he fell in love with a human in the past and patiently waits for her reincarnation so he can welcome her as his queen. Also, he's only the crown prince in the Obey Me! storyline because he refuses to become king without his beloved.

Man, I know I poke fun at him for being a reckless idiot in the story, but damn.

And imagine all the crap he deals with for uniting the three realms--all that effort for a soul who didn’t even look back when she left. 🤧

(To have that kind of power on a man... Ate MC, paturo naman po. Charot lang. We must aspire to be good people haha)

Oh, and by the way--

I would like to clarify something since you guys keep making so many conspiracy theories.

Regarding the characters from the fictional worlds and the real world:

The Obey Me! Characters that manifest in the fictional worlds are treated as separate entities from those in the Real World. E.g. Lucifer from the CEO’s arc is different from the Lucifer in Diavolo’s arc/Real World, so if the same character appears twice, our MC will not compare their names, appearances, etc. Think of it as a perception filter. However, you can say that they are still connected because they are alternative selves of each other. So residual affections felt by CEO!Lucifer will be felt by Real World!Lucifer.

What was the third party interference at the end?

Unless the above story wasn't clear enough, the interference was Diavolo. 

Will MC have a harem?

Who knows.

Hope that makes things clear :D

(And please keep up with the praise, this madam would sell her firstborn for more praises from you guys.)

Until the next arc, my dear readers!

[heyyyharry]

Chapter 13: Last Dance

(from ‘The Winter and The Crown’)

…in which there’s a masquerade ball.

Word count: 3.5k

AU: queen!y/n, commander!harry

Description: Y/N and Harry set off on a new adventure to find ‘the cure’ for an ancient curse, meanwhile, the enemies are plotting to take her kingdom.

Wattpad link (Reyna as Y/N aka Peach)

A/N: 

GUYS, TRUST ME! LISTEN TO THIS WHILE READING

Also, if you've read my other stories, please let me know in my inbox:

which genre do you think I write better at? 

Contemporary romance (Flatmate, My Girl), or Fantasy romance/Historical romance (TCTM, In Another Life), or Fantasy/mystery with romance as a side plot (TCTM2)?

Thank you! :)

Love, Allie.

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Harry had sat by the window from when the sun started setting. He watched the shadow at his feet dissolve into blackness, until the stars came out and pallid moonlight washed over the room.

A maid came to light a fire. She asked if he needed anything. He gave her no response, just a flick of his wrist to dismiss her. He could feel her eyes sweep over him as she left. He didn’t care. He knew what the servants in the castle had been whispering about him. People always had a lot to say when they only knew half the story. Which was why Harry hadn’t spoken to anyone since he’d come back. Not even Kenny and Stefan, whom he’d known his whole life. They could sympathise. However, they would never truly understand what he’d gone through.

Though the lake had obliterated all the scars on his skin, he could still feel the pressure of the blade buried deep in his side whenever he thought about the day of the ambush. He’d lost so much since then. Dying and coming back to life only to live like a ghost. Getting his memory back didn’t suddenly make it all better.

A knock on the door disturbed his thoughts. He whipped around just in time as the door creaked open, and Mary poked her head in. Witch, he thought, rising fast from his chair. He remembered being chained up in a cell, and the only thing he’d seen had been her one eye glowing in the dark as she cursed him with her evil spells. He regretted having felt sorry for her once. He should have killed her when he’d got a chance.

“Don’t be scared,” she said, lifting a hand as though she was approaching a prey animal. “I just want to talk.”

“I’m not scared of you,” he told her, his voice rough. “You should be scared because it takes everything in me not to put my hands round your neck right now.”

Mary kept a considerable distance between them as she stopped and swallowed hard. “I’m very sorry about everything you’ve gone through. You know I was forced to do that.”

“No, you chose to do that. You chose to serve Calanthe.”

“I did,” Mary sighed. “I’d lost my sisters. They were all I had. And I blamed Y/N for it. When I came to Calanthe, I was desperate and mourning. But I swear I’m a better person now. I didn’t mean to hurt so many people.”

Harry scoffed, waving towards the door. “You’re not making this any better. Just get out.”

Mary didn’t move. She looked even more determined to get her apology across. “I know I’ve caused a lot of pain for everyone here. That’s not my intention anymore. I just want this war to be over and for everyone to be safe.”

Harry flopped back into his chair, looking out of the window with his chin on his knuckles. If he didn’t acknowledge her presence, hopefully she’d leave him alone.

It didn’t work.

“Something’s bothering you,” she said.

“Yes, I’m still waiting for it to stop talking to me.”

Mary exhaled, ignoring the insult. “It’s the Queen, isn’t it? Because of her bond with the King.” Despite there being no answer or even a reaction, Mary still went on, “I think...it’s for the best, if you just...let her go.”

Harry stiffened. Slowly, he turned to her, appalled. “What?”

“I know you’ll hate me even more after I tell you this,” she said. “But it’s impossible to compete with someone she’s been looking for from lifetime to lifetime. Fate is cruel, but it always does its job. It always brings soulmates back together.”

“I don’t...understand.”

Mary studied Harry with her wide eye, as if she could not figure out why he seemed confused. Then, it occurred to both of them that Y/N hadn’t been completely honest with him.

“She hasn’t told you,” Mary mumbled, more to herself.

“Told me what?”

Harry thought of Y/N’s conversation with the deer before they’d followed it out of the woods. It must have told her more than she’d revealed to him.

Why did his love have to hide the truth from him? Was it because she didn’t trust him? Or because she didn’t think he could handle it? Or was it because she couldn’t believe it herself?

“Then I think you should hear it from her,” Mary said fast.

Harry got to his feet right as she was about to leave. “Tell me.”

Reluctantly, she looked back at him over her shoulder.

“Please,” he added, desperate.

She pondered for a moment before letting go of a heavy sigh. Both of them knew she’d regret this afterwards, and yet she didn’t have it in her to just stay silent.

“All I can say to you is that…” she wet her lip, “Y/N and Lance have a special kind of bond. Two people need years to build such a connection, but those two had already got it when they first met. You may think you understand her, but you’ll never know her as well as he does. And if she ends up choosing you, she’ll probably spend another lifetime missing him.”

Harry was trying to process all that when Mary spun on her heels and slipped out of the room as quietly as she’d entered. The door shut with a soft ‘thud’, and Harry stood there, staring at it with his heart and thoughts racing.

Although he could not make sense of what the witch had just told him, the ball of fear within him grew until his chest felt like it might combust. He fell back into his chair. The moon outside his window was round and high above the empty branches. Harry contemplated it as he recalled the dreams Y/N had told him.

The Moon Lady and the Man in Black.

The witch and the King.

The winter and the crown.

He twisted her gold ring around his finger, agitated. “Fate,” he mumbled to himself.

When the door was opened for the third time, it was Y/N who came in. Harry pressed his lips into a smile, hoping she wouldn’t notice something was wrong. She always noticed. That was the problem.

She put her hands on her hips and surveyed the room before taking him in with a look of concern. “The maid said you’d been here all day. Are you not feeling well?”

“I’m good,” he lied. “I’m just trying to get familiar with all these changes. How was the meeting?”

She stood by the fireplace, folding her arms across her chest and resting her forehead against the wall. “It was...interesting. Soon the news will arrive at Theros, so we’re bracing for the worst. Lance speculated that this was all Calanthe’s plan. She needed a reason to invade the North.”

“She had her most trusted advisor murdered?”

Y/N shrugged. “You don’t think she’s capable of it?”

“We’ve met her, Peach. She’s just a girl.”

“We don’t know her.”

Harry got up from his chair and walked over to stand in front of Y/N. He raked his fingers through his hair and released a sigh. “I can’t imagine her being so cruel and calculated. They’re using her.”

“What do you mean? Who?”

“The Monks. Taking me was their idea. I could vaguely remember them telling her what to do to me. Would you like to hear my theory?”

Y/N nodded, looking intrigued.

“They’ve got her believing that she’s special,” Harry said. “That she’s the chosen one, so she’d trust them and let them guide her. When the war’s over and she’s won, they’ll find a way to get rid of her. They wanted your father, your uncle, and your brother dead. How hard would it be to take down Calanthe?”

Y/N chewed her bottom lip as she averted her troublesome eyes. She seemed to ponder over his speculation for a long moment before letting go of a short breath. “Let’s not speak of it. I’ll discuss it with Lance in the morning.”

Harry knew he was doomed when even the King’s name made his stomach twist. “We can talk about it if you want to. I don’t mind,” he said.

She shook her head. “I do, Harry. I’m tired. I just want to not think about it for a second.” Seeing the bafflement on his face, she smiled and touched his cheek.

“I want to help,” he mumbled.

“I know,” she sighed. “And I’m grateful for your help. I just don’t want to feel like a queen when we’re alone. We can talk about anything, not war and death.”

Harry nodded as he placed with hands on her hips, pulling her in. She wrapped her arms around his neck. He traced the flame’s shadow on her cheek as she smiled, content. He hated that they could be holding each other, and there’d still be plenty of distance between them.

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you, too,” she said, squinting her eyes. She knew there was more to it.

He took a deep breath. “I need you to be completely honest with me.”

“All right.”

“Do you love him?”

Y/N froze for a second as she blinked blankly. “What? Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m serious, Peach.” He brushed her hair out of her face. “There’s no right or wrong answer. I just want to know how you feel. I’m not good at reading people, and lately I’ve been having a hard time trying to figure you out. I’m not saying this to make you feel bad, my love. I love you. And I want you to be happy so I must hear it from you. Do you love him?”

Harry’s heart thudded wildly in his chest as Y/N worked her jaw for a reply. “I’m afraid of losing him,” she said at last. “He’s become a part of me. Perhaps he’s always been. So I guess I do love him. Just not the way he wants me to. Not the way he deserves to be loved.”

Though that wasn’t the answer Harry had expected or the answer he wanted to hear. For him it could only be yes or no. He was surprised yet not saddened by it. He even felt quite hopeful that she still trusted him to say what she really felt. He might not have all of her now with everything they were going through. However, he could still get her back.

“He’s a good man,” Harry said.

Y/N’s doubtful eyes scrutinised him. “You’re not mad at me, are you?”

“No,” he chuckled and kissed her forehead. “I love you. And I want you to be happy.”

The corner of her lips raised nonchalantly. “I will be again, eventually. But you do make this living hell a lot better.”

Harry tossed his head back and laughed. Y/N laughed, too. He’d missed that heavenly sound. Why should he believe anything Mary had said? She’d nearly killed him and sabotaged what he had with Y/N twice. So she should be the last person he should listen to.

Right?

“Oh, there will be a ball tomorrow night,” Y/N said, fixing his hair with a big grin on her face.

“Really?”

“Yes. A masquerade ball.”

Harry never liked dancing. However, he knew she did, and so he was excited about this ball. “But,” he rubbed his chin, “is it insensitive to hold a ball after what happened?”

Y/N’s smile faded, making Harry feel terrible for ruining one rare moment of happiness for her.

“George Wallace’s death was a week ago,” she said, her brows knitted. “And the fact that people in court are still talking about it and assuming that they’re in danger is a great concern for me. I need to show my subjects that we’re not living in fear. Besides,” she gave a half shrug, “dancing makes me happy.”

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, whatever makes you happy, Your Majesty.”

Y/N giggled as she waved off his comment. “Stop teasing. You know you love me.”

“Unfortunately.”

“Mmmm.” She leaned in and kissed him on the lips.

Suddenly, the door burst open, and a breathless guard stuck his head in right as Y/N and Harry jumped away from each other.

“Your Majesty.”

“What?” Y/N breathed, sounding annoyed. Her cheeks were still red, and Harry couldn’t help but smile into his fist.

“His Majesty requested for your attendance,” the guard said.

Y/N immediately looked to Harry. The apologetic stare she was giving him had said it all.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Your Majesty,” he said, took her hand and kissed it once.

“The ball,” she mouthed at him. And then she was gone.

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Music swelled as the orchestra was readying for the first number. Y/N watched the queue of stragglers seeking admittance at the entrance, amused by their excitement, which was evident even though their expressions were hidden behind their masks. Some even had painted faces, vying to outdo the splendour of the palace.

“May I have this dance?” A man dressed in dark blue stretched his hand out to Jo. With an uncomfortable smile, she was whisked onto the crowded dance floor. Y/N had noticed that Jo seemed distracted tonight. She’d keep seeking the room for someone. Y/N’s curiosity was piqued. Could it be possible that Jo was looking for Lance? Could something had happened between Jo and Lance while she’d been away?

She pushed the thought to the back of her mind, straining her eyes as she tried to locate Harry among the colourful masks. All of the ladies had found their dance partners. Their dresses fluttered as they twirled like snowflakes in the wind. Where was he? He’d said he’d be here, and he wouldn’t break his promise.

“Why is the prettiest girl in the room sitting this dance out?”

“Lance!” Y/N flinched, pressing a palm against her chest as Lance tapped the back of her chair and flopped down into the one beside her. He was dressed in a fine suit of blackest wool, impeccably tailored to his frame. A dark mask obscured his face from forehead to nose. Tiny jet beads sparkled at the edges.

He offered a quick smile. “How do you know? I’m wearing a mask.”

Y/N scoffed as she rolled her eyes. She was grateful he was being his snarky self and not the person who’d told her he’d loved her two nights ago. Still, those words were all she could hear whenever she looked at him.

“Even Jo’s dancing,” he pointed out.

“Speaking of Jo, I want to ask you something,” she said, fixing her gold mask. Even with a mask on, she still wasn’t able to handle the weigh of his stare. “Is there something between you and Jo? She’s been distracted.”

Lance smirked. “Why do you assume I have something to do with her being distracted?”

“I don’t know. You were probably flirting with all the maids while I was gone,” she joked.

Lance breathed out a casual laugh. “I was flirting with your entire library, actually. In fact, I have another theory–”

“Please. Not here,” she said, pouting. “I’d like to be a normal girl for just one night.”

Lance arched an eyebrow as he eyed her up and down. “Said the only lady here not dancing.”

“You’re obnoxious.” She rolled her eyes, unable to stop beaming.

Lance sucked in a breath. He stood up and straightened his back with a hand stretched toward her. She looked up, amused.

“Dance with me. You’re being embarrassing right now,” he said, glancing at their feet as if surprised to find them staying still.

Y/N gave a nod as she got up, her fingers sliding into his outstretched hand, which was cold and rough yet familiar. For a second, she caught a glimpse of them standing in that cave. The dream in which he’d visited her had felt so real. It’d felt like this. She glanced up to meet his questioning eyes. She reassured him with a tight smile and followed him to the centre of the room.

A new tune began. She snaked her free arm up his shoulder, holding her breath as his other hand came to rest at her waist. She once again swept her eyes across the room for Harry. Her heart sank when she couldn’t find him. He hated dancing. Perhaps he’d changed his mind at the last minute and decided not to join. She’d check on him after this dance.

“My eyes are here,” Lance said.

Y/N jolted, feeling glad that he couldn’t see her blushing. “Pardon me.”

“It’s all right.” He laced his fingers with hers. His hand at her waist was warm and sure. A ribbon of comfort unravelled inside her, and she allowed Harry to be absent from her mind for this tune.

Lance skillfully led her through the familiar steps, his smile bright. “Not bad,” he said, making her laugh.

“Is that how you compliment someone?”

“My apology, Your Majesty. I assumed Northerners didn’t have fun.”

“You’re right.” Y/N rolled her eyes. “I’m miserable right now. I cannot wait for this to be over.” As soon as she’d said it, she feared he’d take her joke the wrong way. Thankfully, he tossed his head back and laughed. She rarely got to hear Lance laugh, so her heart vibrated with excitement.

“Don’t worry,” he said, tilting his head. “This will be our first and last dance.”

She did not ask what he meant.

As the song came to an end, Lance drew her in, so close she could feel the heat of his chest. Behind the mask, his eyes burned down at her. The crowd broke into applause for the orchestra as they broke apart.

He reached out and pushed aside a loose curl behind her ear. His thumb traced lightly across her cheek. Before she could thank him for dancing with her, he spun on his heels and slipped into the crowd of courtiers.

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“Argh!” Calanthe charged, swinging her sword in a furious arc. The soldier cooly stepped into his charge, catching the descending sword with his own. He twisted and wrenched upward with all his strength. The sword flew out of Calanthe’s hand. She grabbed for it frantically, but her opponent snatched it out of the air.

“Enough!” shouted a gruff powerful voice.

Calanthe whirled and dropped the sword to her feet, catching her breath. Vossler, the leader of The Monks, appeared like a phantom. His gaze trailed from Calanthe’s face to her weapon on the ground. He didn’t need to say a word to describe how disappointed he was. She knew that look. She’d received it her whole life from everyone she’d ever met. Ever since she’d taken the throne, no one had dared to look at her like that except for Vossler. He reminded her of her father. She’d give anything to impress him.

“Your Majesty,” he said, dragging the title with an agitated tone. “I told you that sword-fighting was very similar to dancing. You have to feel, not think.”

“I know, I know,” she muttered, bending down to pick up the sword. Vossler kicked it out of her reach before she could close her fingers around the hilt. Her guards drew their swords. She lifted a hand to tell them to stay where they were.

Vossler held her stare as if challenging her to punish him for disrespecting the Queen. She knew she couldn’t. People feared her because they feared The Monks. She hated that. Still, she was the chosen one. Vossler would have no choice but to kneel at her feet when she became the ruler of one hundred kingdoms.

“You can’t rule when even a child could take the sword from you,” he said as if he could read her thoughts.

She lifted her chin proudly despite the fact that her fingers were still trembling. “I’m tired. I’ll practice again tomorrow.”

Vossler regarded her with a raised eyebrow. His lips twitched in a despicable manner. “Very well. You should get some rest, Your Majesty. Get all the rest you need. Why should you worry about a nineteen-year-old, whose best friend is her sword, who murdered her own brother in a duel, brought someone back from the dead, and survived the North Mountain?”

Calanthe was frozen in place, too shocked to react. “She survived?”

“She found the lake.”

“Fuck!” Calanthe screamed into her hands. “The Mountain was supposed to kill her!”

“The witch didn’t tell us the whole truth,” Vossler said. To Calanthe’s surprise, he sounded as calm as ever. She was about to ask him what the witch had been hiding from them when he flicked his wrist, and a servant hurried to retrieve Calanthe’s sword.

“Your Majesty?” he said, his eyes piercing at Calanthe.

The wind whipped by, blowing strands of hair across her face. She bit the inside of her cheek, glared back at the servants who were observing her, making her feel like less than a queen she was.

She took a deep breath, then grabbed the weapon. “Again.”

[ziracona]

The second of my ready updates:

The Kid (pt: 1, … 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16 ?) [Fate Grand Order AU]

We don’t find Ritsuka where we left her. It’s easy to follow the trail of carnage back, but there’s nothing there when we arrive, and Robin curses and hits one of the walls, muttering something I can’t make out. I want to say something to help him, but I’m feeling too much the same way myself. At least she’s alive, but if they’ve caught her…

“I told her to call us! And if she used that much mana, she knew she was in trouble, and she tried to fight instead!” snaps Robin.

“It’s possible something else happened,” interjects King David, “Couldn’t she have found someone else?”

That’s true. That’s true, and that would explain a lot! God, I hope so. I really, really hope so. I try to sense for another connection to a new spirit, but again, I find nothing, just like I can’t find my master.

“Come on,” says Emiya, “We need her back either way, and there’s nothing to do but search. If she left, she’d have started from here and had to head r—”

He stops.

I turn and follow his gaze. A little ways down the hall in that direction, there’s a door whose entire lock panel is melted. Bingo.

“Come on!” I call, rushing towards it.

As soon as I get there, I start to push open the door, but Robin catches me by my shoulder, and when I look, he’s pointing down the hall. “That way.”

“You can sense her?” I ask, amazed.

“No, but there’s faint mana traces in the air, and I’m extremely attuned to my own signature,” he replies, “She was wearing my cloak when we left her, and I can sense it picking up here—the trail goes that way. This way!” he calls to the others, “I’ll trace it!”

We tear off after Robin, turning down halls and up an elevator shaft. Alarms are blaring, and I still hear shouts in the distance. We only hit one patch of guards though, on the floor we get off on. They’re kneeling beside the downed bodies of other guards, whose blood has begun to dry already on the floor, and we catch them by surprise, knocking them out easily. She wasn’t alone, then, I think as I hesitate once the guards are down before moving on, And whoever she was with, they’re violent. And she wasn’t in control of them.

Not Ur-shanabi is good. Violent and not in control is really, really bad.

We go faster. A blur of tense, desperate movement down halls and past empty rooms and faint traces.

“I sense her!” shouts Robin, skidding to a stop halfway down a hall and changing course, “This way!”

He’s right! I check and I can sense her again too—one floor above us now, and a few halls over. King David breaks a hole through the ceiling with his sling and we move up as fast as we can, following her signature. We’re getting close, and overcome with a surge of intent, I pull ahead as we’re right on top of her and round the last corner first, and she’s there! She's there! She’s alive! She’s alive, and then the relief is immediately replaced with fear, because there’s a tall man I’ve never seen before, a heroic spirit like us, with some very intimidating energy coming off him, and two unmoving bodies slung over his shoulder, one a second heroic spirit, and the other Ritsuka, both unconscious and limp.

I draw and let a flurry of bullets slam into the wall all around his head. “Drop her!” I shout, “Or I won’t miss the next one!”

The man spins on his heel to face me and takes a step back, and I see on his face he’s thinking fast as the rest of the group slides into the hall behind me.

Seeing so many of us, the man grits his teeth and summons a long, thin sword made out of something I’m having a hard time looking directly at for some reason, simultaneously tightening his grip on Ritsuka and the other body and turning to angle himself between us and them. “What do you want!” he shouts desperately, “Aren’t all of you spirits too? Why are you attacking! What, are you dogs for this place?”

“We’re attacking because that’s our master’s unconscious body you’ve got highly god damn suspiciously slung over your shoulder!” snaps back Robin, bow aimed and leveled.

Eerily calm, beside me, King David readies his slingshot with a kind of poise and concentration that is genuinely unnerving. I do not think he will miss.

“Your master?” says the man in disbelief, “Do you think I’m an idiot? Outside of a ritual, a human being can barely sustain one spirit alone, let alone a human child—and this girl is my master. –‘Our master’? You expect me to believe this young girl is sustaining not just two, but six heroic spirits at the same time, alone?”

Wait.

Ahhhhh shit. Shit! That makes so much sense. Whooo second time today I’m real glad my instinct is to threaten and not to shoot strangers that only might be a huge threat!

“I don’t know what you want her for, but you’re not getting her!” continues the man with a ferocious intensity that makes him feel daunting, even heavily burdened and so clearly outnumbered. There’s a surge of mana around him, and in one burst of energy the grey suit is gone, replaced by a black and red uniform with a cloak and a full face mask, and the pressure in the room itself has changed and I’m suddenly hearing unsettling whispers in the air, and ah shit shit he’s flinging both bodies he was carrying out behind him and going to move which can only mean heee—crap crap crap; he’s about to use a bigass area of effect noble phantasm, and everyone knows it, and it hits me I’ve got about a third of a second before somebody shoots somebody in here’n—

“Wait, wait, wait!” I call, spinning my gun into my holster and stepping into the line of fire for the first few people beside me, hands up and out, because I like to think we’ve all hit the conclusion I just did, but everyone in the group is exhausted and tense and I’m not takin’ chances, “This was a mistake! Nobody shoot!”

To my surprise, no one does—not even the new guy. He stands, so tense he’s almost shaking, sword still leveled, but whatever he was about to do, he doesn’t—the mana level in the hall holds, and he listens.

Behind him in the sudden silence, I hear Ritsuka and the other guy hit the floor and roll with little thuds, and wince internally. I keep my focus on the guy in front of me and my hands up. “Sorry—We jumped the gun on you there-outah concern for our master,” I say apologetically, “I know this is gonna be real hard for you to believe, but she really is our master too. –If you find that hard to believe, you can check for yourself!—'parrently if you’re co-contracted, you can sense the connection to each other a little—you should be able to sense it from every one of us. Sorry I didn’t notice yours sooner; with our Master right on top of you, I wasn’t picking up the weaker signal under such a strong one. I can find it now, though.”

Taken aback and mistrustful, the man hesitates, then very slowly lowers his sword just a few inches, and beside me I sense the others do the same with their weapons in response. Taking that as a good enough show of faith, the man turns his head towards each of us in turn to sense for connections, then cranes his masked head to look at Ritsuka’s limp form where she landed, and says, “But. That’s impossible.” The earlier viciousness is gone now, and the air pressure in the room returns to normal. Wheeew, thank God! I let myself relax.

“She’s an unusual person,” replies Emiya, “Usually, you’d be right.”

“No wonder she passed out after forming a contract with me, the poor girl,” says the man softly like he means it. I decide I really like this guy. Got less than no idea who he is, but he was gonna get himself killed just now trying to keep Ritsuka and whoever else he’s got there from gettin’ hurt, instead of droppin’ ‘em and savin’ himself, and he clearly already likes her, so what else do I gotta know?

Shit—speakin’ of—

“I’m uh—just gonna go pick her up off the floor then? If we’re all cool?” I declare just in case the guy hasn’t decided he’s on board completely yet.

“… Oh. Yes,” he says with a note of chagrin, turning himself to look at where they’ve landed.

I go to her as fast as I can, unsurprised to hear everyone else coming too. The new guy comes as well, but he goes to the other body.

When I reach Ritsuka, I’m relieved to see she doesn’t look injured anywhere, just a little bit pale. I take a knee and scoop her up gently, trying to make sure there’s no damage I don’t see.

“Well, you look like you’re in one piece at least.” Robin, speaking softly. I glance up and watch as he takes a knee too and looks her over too. She’s still wearing his cloak, and he touches the hood, which is hanging loose, then sighs and pats her on the head. “And you took it off, I see. But I guess your judgement was okay, since things turned out like this. I won’t give you the worst time when you wake up again. You damn fool.”

The others are above us too now, and I glance up at King David and Emiya. I stand up so they can see too without trouble. “She’s fine, right?” I ask, since they both do healing to some extent. She seems like it, but bein’ unconscious always means somethin’ ain’t quite right.

King David reaches over and places a hand on her face for a second, then smiles. “She’s alright—just exhausted. –Good throw!” he adds cheerily to the other heroic spirit, who glances over in surprise from where he’s just stood up again himself with the other body he threw in his arms, “I don’t think that even really bruised her!”

The man seems to consider responding, but have no idea what to say, and shuts his mouth and just kind of gives an awkward nod. He hesitates, then moves closer to get a look at how she’s doing himself.

I haven’t had a chance to get a good look at the second heroic spirit—the one he’s holding—before this, but I do now. And…it is grim.

Shit. Whatever they did to him, it was bad. Weird that after what most have been two months of absolute hell I ain’t comfortable enough with to look at, I still feel like I got comparatively lucky. Least I knew what was going on…

“If you don’t mind my asking, what exactly is a teenager like her doing here, and with six heroic spirits contracted to her?” asks the new man, glancing over at us.

“Uh, rescue mission,” says Robin, gesturing vaguely, “Happened to see that one in trouble,” he indicates me, “broke him out, summoned him for backup,” he indicates Emiya, “and they came back here to clean house. The rest of us were all in about the same position I expect you two were.”

“Ah, then is that why he’s…?” says the man, gesturing to our unconscious lancer.

Emiya gives a nod.

“What about yours?” I ask.

The unconscious spirit in his arms is in way worse condition than our lancer is—at least, he looks a lot worse. The guy’s body is covered in deep purple runes and markings I don’t recognize that glow and pulse faintly, carved into his skin, and his body is swollen horribly all over and covered in tiny red bumps. The bags under his eyes are deep and his face gaunt and hollow looking, even swollen, which is somehow worse than either would be on its own. His long blonde hair is lifeless, damp with sweat and caked to his body, and he’s breathing raggedly and weak. I have seen spirits in conditions as bad as this from wounds, in the heat of battle, but never…sick? I can’t think of any other way to describe this, but he looks sick, which we don’t get any more—and he looks terminal, at that.

“Yes. This is what they did to him. …I…haven’t been able to fix it all. I thought my master might be able to help me when she woke,” answers the man. He’s stayed in his armor and mask, so I can’t see expressions at all, but he’s got a trustworthy voice—real sad, though.

“Can I take a look?” asks King David, “I may be able to help.”

The man hesitates, then says, “Yes. Uhm. —alright. –Might I ask who the rest of you are?” like he knows it was stupid to still be untrusting at this point, but he can’t help it. I think he and the other spirit must be friends, because I can’t imagine him being this level of protective over a complete stranger, and it’s about how I expect I’d be with Robin or Geronimo.

“You first,” says Robin at the same time Emiya says, “After you,” and they both look incredibly pissed that the other had the exact same impulse.

“Right. My apologies,” says the man formally, and I buy that—he seems frazzled and stressed. “My true name is Antonio Salieri.”

God damn it. I try to smile and not let my absolute lack of knowledge show on my face. Now there’s two spirits in the party whose names I have never even heard—this sucks. It always feels low-key rude not to know. It looks like King David’s in the same boat as me, so I feel a little bit better, but Robin and Emiya I think recognize it.

“And him?” asks Robin. Emiya was definitely about to say almost the same thing, but he stops himself from overlapping this time and gets some kind of an expression on his face.

“—I’m Billy the Kid,” I interject as friendly as I can, because I feel like we’re pilin’ it on a little harsh here.

“Thank you,” he tells me, then turning to the others, “This is Mozart—Wolfgang Amadeus.”

Oooooh, the composer! That’s pretty cool. Robin and Emiya both get incredibly strange looks on their faces, though, and I know Robin well enough to tell he’s suddenly trying really hard not to laugh nervously. The heck’s that about?

“King David,” chimes in King David, oblivious to this and holding up a finger in greeting. Salieri turns to stare at him. Then he begins softly to laugh hysterically, and everyone gets real quiet.

He doesn’t seem to realize how weird that is, and just looks down at the body in his arms and says, “It appears once again God looks out for you only, and particularly.”

“Guys?” I prompt in the hopes of turning this conversation back to semi-normal, and because it’s kinda bad form not to exchange names once an ally tells you theirs.

“Robin Hood,” says Robin, punching his timecard back into the present.

“…Emiya,” says Emiya like he doesn’t want to answer.

Salieri glances back up, serious and normal again, and nods slowly.

“May I?” says King David again, and Salieri obliges. King David starts looking over Mozart thoughtfully, muttering to himself in what I’m pretty sure has gotta be Hebrew, and he flicks his wrist without looking and his kinnor appears by him. As I watch, he shuts his eyes and begins to play. It’s the longest and most intricate melody I’ve heard from him, and it’s fascinating to listen to. Beautiful. Nothing I’ve ever heard before either, and he sings softly with it in his own tongue. It’s…really incredible. I’ve heard some pretty good piano players and guitarists in my own day, but seeing somebody like this, you understand for the first time the concept of a genius on an instrument—it’s so unlike anything I’ve heard before, it’s like it’s a totally different thing than what I thought of as music. While he plays, the glowing purple markings start to twist and dissolve on Mozart’s skin, a piece and a few at a time from foot-to-head, and as they go, his body begins to repair itself. It’s a strange thing to watch, curses leaving a body, but it's pretty amazing too.

“Damn,” I whisper under my breath.

“You said it,” agrees Robin softly with a smile.

“So, uh?” I ask, focusing my attention back on Ritsuka and glancing over at Emiya, “Any way to wake her up?”

“You could smack her,” says Emiya offhand, and then there’s a half-second delay and he gets a look on his face that says very clearly he did not think before speaking and wishes greatly he had. He grimaces, and gives Ritsuka a glance, then reaches out with his free hand.

“—You ain’t gonna smack her, right?” I make sure—to bother him, not because I’m really worried he would.

Emiya sighs at me and I grin. He places a hand on her chest and I watch geometric patterns runs along her skin for a moment.

“She used too many circuits she wasn’t used to using,” he tells me, eyes still on Ritsuka, “Flooded them and burned herself out a little. –She’ll be fine, though—I’ve seen a lot worse of the same. I think it just tired her out, the same way an intense amount of physical exertion someone isn’t used to might after an adrenaline rush would. This should help her wake up.”

He removes his hand, and the patterns vanish. Ritsuka stays still for a few seconds, then groans and turns a little in my arms to snuggle against my shoulder, muttering incoherently, and I smile.

“Thanks,” I say to Emiya. He gives a nod. “How’s the lancer doing?” I add with a little concern. I really expected him to wake up again already. Emiya’s expression darkens and closes off.

“It’s complicated,” he answers after a moment, “But not well. …I can’t really fix what’s wrong with him; neither can David, and the problem’s not his mana supply from the kid. It’s what they did before, and don’t think any of us can fix it.”

“Not even with a command spell?” I ask, taken aback and feeling a chill settle on me. Thinking about him vanishing and getting dragged back here to…that shit again. We got to raze this place to a pile of ash. A part of me wonders if that’ll really be enough, though. We’re lucky in that mages tend to guard any breakthrough like hoard of gold, but at the same time, these mages are selling, and if they’re selling, god knows how much they were willing to part with for money.

Emiya shrugs. “A spell could forestall death a little, but they’re not really meant for repairing a spirit origin with a gaping hole in it. This is something that’d take time and experience to figure out, if it can be fixed. The good news is that he’s not going to die in the next few hours or anything, unless he takes a lot more damage—if there’s one thing he excels at, it’s being damn near impossible to put in the dirt quickly—so, we don’t have to rush for a solution while we’re here. If we stay focused and on task, we should have a chance after we deal with this place. And if not, so long as we bring this place down, he should at least be able to avoid being brought back here.”

He's really thought this through. I know he’s a tactical fighter anyway, even not having known him long, but something about the amount of detail makes me think despite the weird interaction they must be some kind of friends. I’m distracted from considering that any further though, because Ritsuka shifts a little again and opens her eyes about halfway. “Mnnn…” She blinks unevenly at my vest, then turns her head up and squints at me. “…Billy?”

“Heya,” I say with a smile, feeling immense relief seein’ her up, “Feelin’ better?”

“Oh?” says Emiya, moving in too, “You’re up faster than I expected.” I feel pretty sure that’s his version of saying he’s relieved to see her okay.

“I am?” asks Ritsuka, still a little foggy.

“Hey kid,” says Robin, leaning over from the other side, “I see you did the exact opposite of what I asked you to.”

“No I didn’t,” she mumbles, blinking and trying to focus, “I was gonna call. I almost did—when I thought I was in trouble. But it was okay. I met a new…Oh!” Her eyes get clearer, and she tries to sit up before realizing she is being held and can’t very much like this. “Antonio! I met this other spirit—did you find—“

“—Don’t worry,” says Emiya, “He’s safe and sound; we already met.” I move to accommodate her view. “He’s right over there with David and Mozart.”

Salieri and King David are both looking over already, and King David gives a grin in greeting but keeps playing. Salieri starts to say something, but Ritsuka does before he gets a chance.

“With—‘Mozart’?” she asks, face scrunched up, looking from him to the other three and staring with absolute blankness at them “—The…composer?? Where did he come from?”

Wait.

“Wait, you weren’t—you didn’t contract with that one?” asks Robin before I can.

“No—I never saw him before,” says Ritsuka, just as confused, “Do I need to?”

Ohhhhh—of course. Salieri didn’t think she could contract with more than one person, and he said she passed out soon as the two of them made a pact—we’re all idiots. I can’t believe I didn’t even think to check.

“Hey,” says Robin to Salieri, almost accusingly, “How’s your friend still solid?”

“I’m maintaining him,” answers Salieri, almost taken aback, “I can’t for long, but I can slow down his consumption. It’s a…” He glances back at Ritsuka and sees the same confused look on her face and his tone changes immediately, warmer. “class ability. Mana replenishment.”

“What class?” says Robin, in a tone that tracks, because I have never heard that one before either.

“…Avenger,” answers Salieri after a moment. ‘Avenger’? “You’re awake again,” he adds to Ritsuka in the most friendly tone I’ve heard from him, “Are you alright?”

“…Antonio?” asks Ritsuka, staring at him.

It takes him a second to realize why she looks that way, then he gives an, “Oh,” and flicks his wrist, and the helmet vanishes to reveal his face again.

“Oh—hi,” says Ritsuka, a little stunned still, “I’m sorry—I didn’t recognize you for a second—that’s really cool armor you have.”

He doesn’t look like he knows how to process or respond to that.

“I think I’m okay now. A little tired and sore, but pretty good actually—How about you? How are you feeling?” she adds. “Better? -I hope?”

Again, he seems taken off guard by the question, but he glances down at himself, then up at her. “I’m…alright. Certainly better than I was, at the least. Thank you.”

She smiles. “Good. Sorry I passed out before explaining anything.”

“Well, it’s no wonder,” he says, looking at the assembled people she’s keeping up, “And I think I’m fairly up to speed now.”

“Did you rescue him on your own?” asks Ritsuka, indicating Mozart. He nods. “And that’s Mozart? The composer?”

“Yes,” says Salieri with a very specific tone that I weirdly can’t place.

“Wow,” says Ritsuka. She hesitates and looks over the whole group before looking up and settling on me, “How long was I out?”

“I don’t think too long—maybe ten, fifteen minutes?” I suggest.

“You work fast,” she says to Salieri with a grin, “Thanks for saving him!”

Salieri, king of not knowing how to respond, looks back blankly for a moment then gives a hesitant nod.

“Uhm,” she continues, glancing up at me, “I think I can stand up now, if you put me down.”

“Oh! Sure thing,” I say, setting her down but keeping my hands up in case she isn’t as steady as she thinks. She’s not, but she catches herself just fine, then gives herself a second to get her sea legs back before trying to walk again.

“Sure you’re okay?” asks Robin.

She nods. “I’m just a little dizzy. I really do feel a lot better—I think I should be able to anchor another one of you just fine once he wakes up.”

“Are you sure though?” I ask, “You got six contracts runnin’ now, and the last one took you out for a little bit. –Don’t you think another one might knock you out even longer?”

“I don’t think so,” says Ritsuka, who in fairness is bouncing back wildly fast, “I know I passed out after making a contract, but I don’t really think that was why; I was already really faint before that—it happened during the fight with the gashadokuros—when that one popped out of the floor, and grabbed us? I think maybe it just hurt me a little or something, and I hadn’t recovered yet.”

“Oh,” I say, heart sinking a little.

“My ribs feel fine now though!” she assures me.

Yeah, I don’t really think it was the gashadokuro that did it. I feel kinda guilty, too, because I knew when I did it I was putting all of us at risk of vanishin’, but what else could I have done? …I mean, we were about to get smashed, and she’s supposed to be my top priority as a servant. Even though she said that ain’t what she wants, if I’m just pickin’ my own priorities for me, that’s still up top. Plus, we all made it, so it turned out okay.

“That was me, I think,” I admit.

She blinks at me and tilts her head.

“I used a noble phantasm,” I explain, “I’m sorry—I knew you were tapped out already, and we’d agreed we’d all have to not, because of about what happened when I did, but I didn’t see another sure way out of you and me gettin’ smashed—and it did work! And turned out fine—so.”

“But. I thought yours doesn’t take much mana?” she asks, confused.

“Well, Thunderer don’t,” I explain, “But I got more than one. Whole lot of us do. And they ain’t the same.”

Beside me, Robin gives a nod.

“Oh.” She thinks about that, then beams at me. “Well wait, that’s great then! If that’s all it was, I don’t have to worry about making contracts!”

I smile back.

“Oh—how’s the lancer doing?” asks Ritsuka, turning to Emiya, seeing for herself how he’s doing, and face falling a little, “He’s still not awake?”

“He was for a little, but he passed out again—probably when you did,” answers Emiya, “He’s weak, but he’s holding on. In his condition, it’s just going to take more of a mana flow to keep him awake than the rest of us.”

“Okay,” says Ritsuka thoughtfully, “Well. Since I’m awake, that means he’ll probably be feeling better again pretty soon too, right?”

Emiya gives a nod.

I wonder why he doesn’t tell her. I guess he doesn’t want her to worry about something she can’t fix, but I think she should know. I would tell her now, if Emiya and the lancer didn’t seem to be some kind of weird friends, because that means he might know and be doing what the lancer would want if he was up to pick for himself.

“Okay—can you let me know as soon as he wakes up?” she ask. He nods. “Did the plan go okay?”

I give a nod, and Robin says, “Sure thing—we left them on an upper level, made sure to give personnel a chance to flee, but scare them enough to motivate them. It’s gotten quiet too, so I expect they’ve un-summoned the things.”

“That’s amazing!,” she says, “Wow, everybody did a really good job on their own. Thank you—OH! Wait—Mozart—this means we’ve got all seven—six, I mean, right? –One for each catalyst?”

“Think so,” I agree.

“I haven’t sensed any more of us,” adds Emiya slowly, “Which should mean all that’s left is bringing the building down, and destroying research. Taking care of staff.”

Ritsuka looks worried by the last note there, but she nods seriously.

“So we go looking for heads of staff next?” I ask.

Emiya gives a nod.

“We should find the security office then—checking the tech will probably be the quickest way to find them,” says Robin, then with a sigh, “Damn shame we didn’t pick up an assassin. They’d have come in real handy right about now.”

Ritsuka turns to Salieri and David, I think because I’m gettin’ more used to her problem-solving style, to ask about Mozart’s class in case it’s Assassin, but when she gets a real look at Mozart with her full sense intact, what she was gonna say goes right out of her head and she freezes and just looks horrified instead. Then takes a little step closer and asks, “…What happened to him?”

“Some intricate curses,” answers King David, still playing his kinnor, “It’s a nasty bit of spell work, but I can undo it—I’m almost done. It’ll take a little for his vessel to repair itself after the curses are gone, especially with such a weak supply of magic, but it should work just fine.”

“We should get moving,” circles back Robin quietly to just Emiya and me, watching them, “The yokai scattered them pretty well for us, but that won’t last us forever. Don’t want to tempt fate here.”

“Which one was the kunai?” asks Emiya in the same tone.

“Huh?” I say, taking about five seconds to mentally shift subjects back to catalysts, “Oh. Uh.”

…Who was the kunai? I try to mentally figure this through. “Picture,” I say pointing to myself, then gesturing to Robin, “Coin.”

“Earring,” says Emiya, indicating the ones the lancer is wearing.

“Earring,” I echo in confirmation, then glance at King David and the other two. “…I…King David’s gotta be the pitcher, right? And one of them must be the letter, the other the knife—could Salieri be the kunai?”

“If it was a common dagger, maybe,” says Emiya, “But a kunai? For a classical Italian composer?”

He’s got a point.

“Let’s find out,” says Robin, then louder, to Salieri, King David, and Ritsuka, “—Hey—sorry, quick question. These people had six catalysts for sure, and we have found six of us now. But we’re not sure they match up. –Don’t want to leave someone behind, you know. So, aside from us, there was a pitcher, a kunai knife, and a letter. We’re assuming you weren’t the letter or the knife,” he adds to King David, who gives a nod.

“From that list, I would have to be the pitcher—it was probably an oil pitcher,” confirms King David.

“That leaves two, and two of you, but neither of you make sense for the kunai,” says Robin.

“No, we don’t,” agrees Salieri, glancing up from the body in his arms, “We were both the letter.”

“You were both the letter?” I ask.

“Yes. It was from him, about me,” says Salieri tiredly, “And it called us both.”

That’s the worst possible timing to get dual-summoned anywhere. Almost any other situation it would at least be nice to be in a foxhole with an old friend. Talk about grim luck, I think. “So we’re still one short?”

“…I guess,” says Emiya slowly, “Or they simply haven’t used it yet. It seems like most of you haven’t been here long yet, Lancer only a few days; we don’t really know what schedule they’re on. The research stations aren’t far from us or the security huh, though—If we go  there first, we can probably find the answer.”

“That sounds smart,” says Ritsuka hopefully, “Let’s do that—we can’t leave somebody.”

“So was that a success?” Robin asks King David, glancing over at Mozart. The composer looks a lot better now. The glowing curses are gone, and while his body still looks kind of messed up, it looks a lot less on the verge of death. I guess that’s in line with what King David said. Still, poor guy is still pale and breathing shallow and weak. Whatever the spells were, they must have been hell on him.

“Yes, his vessel is resetting itself,” says King David proudly. He lets go of his kinnor and it vanishes. “It was some intensely specific spell work, they have a gifted and dangerous mage on staff. The mental effects should be already gone as they were more curse alone than inflicted physical damage, but it’ll just take however long it takes for his mana supply to replenish him enough to heal the rest.” He absently pats Mozart’s head once which almost startles Salieri. “Poor man. They really did a number.”

“Will it be enough?” Ritsuka asks, glancing up at Salieri, “To heal him okay, if it’s just from you? –I’d form a contract with him if he was awake, but, I can’t—I could give you a command spell though, for the energy, if you need it!”

“That’s kind,” says Salieri, “but you should keep them for true emergencies.” He looks at the man in his arms fondly and a little sadly. “I can tell he’s bouncing back remarkably fast as well, for all the damage done, so I expect he’ll be alright in a short time if things continue the way they are. He won’t be in danger of vanishing before that happens.”

“That’s good,” says Ritsuka, clearly relieved.

“We should get moving, then,” Robin almost interrupts, “We’ve already been in one place too long, and we can’t afford to lose momentum—especially if they’ve got tricks like earlier at their disposal. They seem to have temporarily lost us, and I’d love to keep it that way.”

“Right,” says Ritsuka, straightening up, “Okay—if David’s done, then let’s go.”

David gives a nod.

“Could one of you carry him?” asks Salieri hurriedly, like he’s afraid we’ll take off first.

It takes me a second to get that he means Mozart despite how obvious that should be, just because it’s so totally out of left field as a thing I’d expect him to say.

“I can continue to sustain his mana if I’m fairly close, and I can trade—I’ll take that one,” he adds quickly, indicating the lancer Emiya has, which visibly throws Emiya more than anything I’ve seen since Ritsuka calling him ‘Dad’, “—I have no trouble fighting while holding someone, but if I keep Mozart with me much longer, I may kill him.”

…

“You’ll what?” says Ritsuka.

“I. May kill him,” Salieri echoes himself quietly, glancing down at the unconscious body in his arms.

“…But.” says Ritsuka helplessly. Yeah.

“I thought you were friends?” I ask, lost myself.

“We are,” agrees Salieri, “Or—I am. I. Was—it’s complicated. I, Salieri, was his friend—am, his friend, but, I, as I am now—as the thing that has been carved onto the throne, am also his sworn enemy.” He’s struggling a little. It’s strange. Aside from the one time he went into hysterics he’s seemed as normal as the rest of us, but it’s suddenly like he’s trying really hard not to completely fall apart—not in a crying way—like he’s frazzled and shaky mentally all of a sudden, and struggling to ground himself. It…makes me sad. Almost agonized, he turns to Emiya and Robin like some last-ditch hope. “Tell me—you recognized my name. What do you know it from?”

Robin doesn’t answer, but Emiya says, “Stories. About you killing Mozart.” There’s something about his tone. Low, and something else too. Between pity and understanding. I think he gets what’s going on, even though I don’t yet. Though. …I think I might be afraid I’m starting to…

“Yes,” says Salieri bitterly, “That’s what everyone remembers, true or not, and so it is what the Throne wanted, and what the throne got.”

Oh.

Oh God. … I—s-shit. That’s…I’ve heard of that happening before, sort of. I’ve met people, just a few, that were a little like this—people from stories so many folks believed were true, the throne grabbed someone as like them as possible, and twisted them—fucked with their personalities and memory and abilities, and threw them on the throne as only a little who they were before, and a lot who it wanted to force them to be, to try and make someone who never was. I hadn’t thought about that happening with personal rumor—public opinion versus the truth, but of course it must. Which is…awful. …

“But you didn’t,” says Ritsuka, a question, but not at all a ‘did you?’—it’s very much a ‘so it doesn’t make sense?’.

Salieri glances at her and smiles a little sadly, exhales slow. “No. I didn’t. But that doesn’t get to matter for me now. I’m an Avenger.”

“I.” Ritsuka looks at him, then us, settles on Emiya, “I don’t know what that means.”

“They’re…embodiments of resentment,” says Emiya in a level tone, “Unlike us, associated with a legacy of skills or feats, they’re tied to an injury or hatred from their life, and manifested as an embodiment of that rage and the desire to chase it—to avenge.”

“So…You’re. …trapped?” she asks slowly, eyes big with worry as she turns back to face Salieri. He watches her solemnly with a kind of resigned, quiet sadness I recognize very well. “As…the desire to. ...”

“Kill him,” finishes Salieri for her simply, “And a personification of hatred of him as well. Always.”

“That’s awful,” says Ritsuka.

He tries to smile at her. “Yes. But there’s no escaping it. I ask only that you take precautions, with both of us here. It will be difficult, perhaps impossible, for me to do so on my own.”

She looks at him, then down at the floor, fist clenched, thinking hard. “But,” she says desperately as she looks up at him again, “But you didn’t do it—you’re still you. From before. You remember everything, right? You said—And you think like you, and—and when I was unconscious, you went and rescued him all on your own; you didn’t kill him!”

“Yes, you could say that,” says Salieri quietly, looking at something far past all of us, and I think maybe long ago, before returning to the present, “But it would be as fair to say that I am only a small part of him—of who I was. And that I am also very much the fabricated Man in Grey whose purpose and desire is to kill him. As well as a manifestation of people’s lies, and their hatred, and my hatred of them for it. I am more than one thing; I am enough things now that I could not say with certainty which one I am even the most, or if I am one the most at all, or if I am truly any of them, but I can say with absolute certainty that I cannot be trusted to stay the one I or you would wish for an entire summons.” He looks at her sadly. “I told you when you offered me a contract that I am dangerous. Not to you, not if you’re careful. But I am afraid I will not be as useful as you would wish. Despite my best efforts…”

“But,” says Ritsuka again, “No—it’s not about that. It’s—"

“—Think of it as like a command spell,” offers Emiya gently, taking a step up to be beside her, “But woven into him on summon, instead of lasting a short time. Even if he’s still who he was, none of us can resist compulsion forever. That’s not his fault or something you can fix for him. It wasn’t added to his manifestation here—it’s an integral part of it. Let him be careful.”

There’s something he doesn’t say, but I hear it just the same, from his tone and his expression, and the one on Salieri’s face. That this is Salieri’s way of trying to be himself, by achieving the goal he’d have wanted, even if it can only be attained by keeping himself at arm’s length and gunpoint.

And I think he’s right.

Ritsuka I think gets it too, at least mostly. She looks from him to Salieri in distress, then lets out a breath and nods. “Okay. …I’m sorry,” she adds, looking up at Salieri with so much sorrow on her face.

He smiles weakly. “Thank you, Master.”

“Oh,” she says worriedly, “please don’t call me that—you can just call me Ritsuka.”

He cocks his head at her.

“Like I said before,” she continues hopefully, “I don’t want a servant—I just want to help.”

“Oh?” says King David, who I’m realizing didn’t get the pitch when we snagged him. He seems both amused and happy about this development.

“Very well, then,” says Salieri, with a little half-bow.

“Oh—and you—” she adds, “Do you prefer Antonio? Or Salieri? Or Mr. Salieri?-“

“Salieri is fine,” he responds.

“Salieri,” she echoes in confirmation.

“Alright then, let’s get moving—Like Robin said, we’ve already lingered here too long,” says Emiya, moving forward and offering an arm, “I can carry him.”

“Alright, I’ll take yours then,” says Salieri.

“I can take both,” replies Emiya.

“But then how will you fight?” asks Ritsuka.

“Oh for crying out loud,” exclaims Robin, cutting off whatever reply Emiya was about to give and shooting him a look, then turning to Salieri and holding out his own arms, “Here—I’ll take him.”

Salieri passes the body carefully to Robin, though he looks unhappy about doing it.

“Oh—your cloak,” says Ritsuka, taking it off and handing it to Robin.

He glances back and takes it with a wink, casually slinging it over his shoulder, “Next time I lend this, you might want to actually use the invisibility.”

“Well, I did as long as I could,” she tries, but he’s already grinning at her, and she gets she’s being teased and smiles back.

“Let’s move,” calls out Emiya, a little annoyed now, and he takes off. Robin follows, but Salieri and King David both hesitate and glance at Ritsuka.

“I got ‘er!” I call, snagging her with an arm and bolting off after the others. She makes a surprised sound between a laugh and a yelp and then grins at me. I think it must be fun, going this fast when you’re still a human. I woulda enjoyed it for sure. Really should bring her goggles though—what if we have to go really fast at some point? I file that away.

Behind me, Salieri follows close, King David taking up the rear. I’m very glad we got Emiya on the team, because he’s got a good sense of direction and an ability to channel his mana into physical objects to read layouts and mechanical workings. I mean, we’re all not bad at figuring the layout of anywhere as heroic spirits, but the level he’s on is truly impressive. Guess Ritsuka got the summon answer she really needed after all.

As one, we dart down halls and through an empty gallery. Instead of hitting the elevator shaft again, now that they know we’re here, Emiya snaps a hole through the floor above with his bow and just takes the fast route from point A to point B. I can sense people nearby and a lot of mana not far above us myself now. I take a corner right after Robin and by the time I’m in the next hall Emiya has already downed six of eight guards, and Robin is taking shots at the next two. They are quite a tag-team, but I have a strong feeling they would both hate being told that.

“They were surprised,” Emiya informs us mentally, “It appears the distraction with the gashadokuro worked better than expected—they seem scattered.”

We race through this floor, passing offices and closed doors. I sense a large amount of mana behind one, and Emiya must too because he stops to kick it down. There’s no one inside, but there’s an automated familiar defense system, and a bunch of little magecraft wasps fill the air in a swarm. My gut tells me they got some kind of poison, and I slide to the side to take Ritsuka out of the line of fire before taking some shots at the swarm from the cover of the doorway. I’m thinkin’ Emiya, Robin, and I can all easily deal with this, but it’s gonna be hard not to damage everything in the room doing so, when I suddenly hear the sound of a grand piano behind me and turn in I think the only emotion one can have hearing a grand piano where it shouldn’t be, to see Salieri with the faint glowing outline of a phantasmal instrument at his fingertips. His fingers flash across the keys with precision and incredible force, and myriad of little grey figures appear between us and the swarm and destroy them in a flash of light.

“Thanks,” I say, kinda stunned. He gives a nod.

Emiya has wasted no time and is already inside, searching.

“What? Why did we stop here?” Ritsuka asks me.

“Something with a lot of mana was inside—we couldn’t tell what,” I reply, then to Emiya, “What was it?”

“Yours,” says Emiya by way of answer, stepping back out and chucking Robin his coin, which he catches in surprise and then turns over in his fingers with a very hard to read expression on his face. “Yours,” he adds to King David, tossing a clay pitcher, “And yours,” he adds, handing Salieri a very old letter in a sealed package.

“Where’s mine?” I ask at the same time King David says, “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“I can carry it!” volunteers Ritsuka, “I brought a backpack!”

He can’t seem to think of a reason not to, and gives it to her.

“Yours wasn’t in there,” says Emiya, “Neither was the kunai, or the earring.”

Huh. I…guess maybe it means they were already setting up a circle somewhere, to try and drag me back. That’s a great feeling…

Nothing to do about it though, so I give a nod and let myself puzzle through that while we move towards our target. There are a lot of alarms going off throughout the building now, which isn’t good, but I am starting to notice as we go that the security cameras aren’t tracking our movement. Emiya was taking care of them earlier, but I haven’t seen him do that in a bit—I think we’re past caring. But…

We hit the end of this floor and move up again, right through the floor like before. I hear Emiya’s voice in my head say, “Focus up. We’re nearing the research stations.”

He’s right. The layout of this building has been fairly similar before now, long halls, large rooms, similar numbers of rooms per floor. Interspersed with open areas like walking intersections. This floor is different. We come up in an abandoned office room, but the second we exit it, I see a huge metal door blocking us. I can feel the enchantments on it too—and it’s not just blocking a room, it’s making the entire rest of this floor inaccessible. On top of that, the thing fuckin’ looks like the entrance to a bank vault.

“Talk about extra,” Robin says, thinkin’ the same thing I’m feelin’. He glances at Emiya. “Can you tell if there’s any weakest point to the bounded field?”

Emiya touches the field, and it seems to shock him. He snaps back his hand and shakes it, then reaches his hand up like he’s going to call one of his swords, stops, and grimaces. “…It’s strong, but it’s far from the best one of theirs I’ve seen. I could break it right here, but it might put too much strain on our master.”

“-Ritsuka,” corrects Ritsuka.

“Ritsuka,” he echoes in our heads. He studies the door, then places his hand on the wall beside it, just before where I can sense the bounded field begin, and I feel a surge of mana from him. “I can point you to the weakest spots in the walls, but you’ll have to break the outer seal with your phantasm,” he informs me, “The rest of us don’t have the firepower right now.”

“Let’s go,” I agree, setting Ritsuka down and drawing my gun.

Emiya summons his bow and blows through a wall on our left easily, then indicates a spot to me on the forward wall, about eleven feet beside the door, and 3/4th the way up the wall. “There’s humans past this. Be ready to fight,” he warns us mentally.

I step up. “Let’s do this here and now.” I feel mana from Ritsuka flood me and level my gun with a surge of energy, “Fire!” The bullets tear into the wall and there’s one moment where they’re there in the wall, stuck on the bounded field, still pushing forward but not moving, like watching a fish try and break free from a net, then the bullets win and the wall shatters in a mass of metal and magic shrapnel. Emiya throws up a shield that looks like flower petals to me between us and the debris, and the second the initial burst is over, he dives in through the haze of dust. We all go with him, weapons ready. And he was right—there are people. About six mages sit at workstations, two of them already on their feet, shouting warnings and sending spells our way. There are four guard on our right side, and I can hear more people in the next room too. The first mage up summons a line of long needles, and is tactical enough to send them flying not at Emiya, but at Ritsuka past all of us. I move to deflect them, but Robin does the same ahead of me, furious, knocking them out of the way with his bracer and drawing on the mage who sent them, sending a bolt from his crossbow into their shoulder. The next one is smarter, summoning two golems from the ground to buy time. Robin takes a shot at one just before Emiya physically collides with it, ripping it to shreds with his shortswords, then spinning on his heel and taking the head off the second one. Panicked, the mage starts to cast another spell, but I hit him in the side before he can, and he goes down. It is real hard hitting someone deep enough with a gun that they go down for good, but don’t die, but I am tryin’ my best here. For the little boss.

The other four mages are all up now, and the guards have drawn their guns. King David’s gone in a flash, reappears by the heavily armored group, and starts taking them down with a shepherd’s staff which has to be one of the most cool things I’ve ever witnessed. He’s so floaty. Keeps springboarding off their machine guns when they try to take a shot and kicking them in the head, spinning around in the air and bringing his staff down right on top of another’s helmet. Springboards off that one’s chest as they fall back, then off the first one he hit too to project himself towards the last two, ramming his staff into both their necks at once.

Pretty sure he’s got that covered, I turn my attention back to the remaining four mages. One of them has summoned an arc shield around herself and the woman next to her, while the other is firing bolts of energy at Emiya and Robin from inside, and the other two have split up, one using mana to accelerate their own movement and try to move to flank us, the other getting some distance and trying to coordinate with the others by firing off stuns at range. He actually gets a hit on Emiya’s sword when the guy goes to deflect it in the middle of bringing down a golem and dodging another bolt, not catching it’s a stun in time, but he shakes it off somehow almost instantaneously—That’s right. The bounded field didn’t do much to him before, did it? Or not for long. Maybe he did know what that was. He’s good at that kind of thing. I call behind me to Salieri to take care of the flanker, and take a shot at the guy firing stuns. He manages to summon a shield fast enough to deflect my first shot, but the second one shatters it, and the third slams him in the shoulder and knocks him hard against the far wall hard enough he goes down.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Salieri pull what looks like violin strings made of blood from out of his own neck, and use his sword like a bow. Bursts of magic slam into the floor in front of the mage trying to flank us, and they fall partway through the floor and are left unable to dodge the last shot, which slams them squarely in the head and leaves them unconscious. I hope. Haha shit. We forgot to tell him Ritsuka pleaded with us to go non-lethal, huh? Whoops…

Ahead of me, the mage in the shield realizes that hitting Emiya isn’t going to work, and takes a shot at the unconscious lancer on his shoulder instead to throw him off. This has the opposite effect. Emiya barely rotates to keep the guy on his shoulder from being shot, then flings his shortswords at the barrier with so much force it shatters, and he’s in there almost as fast, catching the mage by the throat and flinging her into the far wall. Robin slides in and sweeps the feet out from the other, then knocks her unconscious with an elbow.

“Next room!” calls Emiya, indicating the same door I heard noise behind myself. The faster we go, the less chance they have to set up defenses. It occurs to me all of a sudden we have not assigned someone to bodyguard Ritsuka—a potentially fatal oversight—and slide back to stay with her as ahead of me, Emiya takes down the next door.

“Stay close, okay?” I ask her, trying to reassure her because she looks incredibly overwhelmed. Guess for your average teenager this is a whole lot of intense violence.

“Y-Yeah,” she manages, a little pale.

Shit.

“Hey, Salieri,” I call to him mentally, “Forgot to mention—Ritsuka bein’ a soft-hearted teenager, really wants us to kill as few folks as possible.”

“I’ve been informed,” he responds the same way, “She begged me to be merciful when I went to attack.”

I check with the senses I have as a servant to see if I can pick up the sound of the guy breathing from here. I can. Damn, I think, watching Salieri follow the others, And you held back. Guess you really like her too.

“Don’t worry—we’re doing what we promised,” I tell Ritsuka, “I can hear the heartbeats. –We’re holdin’ back.”

That seems to reassure her, and she gives me a nod. I pick her up and run after the others. They’re already breaking into a fight when I make the door. Less people here—just a couple security officers guarding the room, two people working tech diagnostics of some kind at terminals connected to a very large databank, plus one mage who seems to be overseeing things. The tech workers have taken one look at us and gone for the smartest human solution—an attempt to surrender—and curled up under one of the desks with their hands over their heads. The mage is shouting at them, and us, and security. One of the security members tries to shoot us, but King David lands a shot from his slingshot down the barrel faster than he can pull the trigger, and the weapon explodes on the guy. Emiya launches a couple swords at the other and pins him to a wall. The mage throws up a hand and starts to summon something, but I cap him in the knee and he falls to the ground cursing, then gets a kick to the head from Robin that lays him flat.

Beside us, Emiya flips the desk the tech workers are under and sends it skittering across the room and they both scream and try to crawl back. He’s way too fast to avoid, though, and darts past them, hitting them both behind the neck in passing, and they collapse, unconscious.

Emiya informs us mentally we’re almost to the core research station. That means probably a lot of people.

“When we get there, we’ll be able to find out if they summoned the last one?” checks Ritsuka.

“Probably,” comes Emiya’s reply, “Unless they’ve predicted us and flushed the system, we should be able to, so the faster we go in, the better.”

“Do you think they know where we are right now? The defenses have been surprisingly uncoordinated,” says Robin, flexing his fingers absently to keep them limber.

“There’s something wrong with security,” agrees Emiya, “Like we guessed before. Whatever is happening, it’s clearly deliberate, and I think it’s likely at this point we can agree it’s not a trap—it’s someone working towards their own goal.”

“Oh yeah! There definitely is! Someone was helping me earlier,” cuts in Ritsuka, “—I forgot-“

“-You forgot?” asks Robin.

“So much happened!” says Ritsuka, “But yeah, you were right,” she adds, turning to Emiya, “Someone is either helping us, or trying to hurt Ur-shanabi—or both—because they opened the door to Salieri’s cell for me, and sent me a message to go in.”

“Oh my god and she went,” says Robin so quiet only I can hear him. I feel him. You’re so nice but that sounds like such an obvious trap, I think, feeling the same distressed emotion I hear in Robin’s voice.

She reads the look on our faces. “Well, it worked! And they didn’t try and hurt me at all,” she pleads, “So my intuition was right!”

“I understand trusting your gut, and I respect that,” says Emiya very tiredly, “But please. Don’t do that in every suicidal situation that presents itself to you?”

“—Either way, that’s good, right?” says Ritsuka, “It helps us.”

“It does,” concedes Emiya in an exhausted done, “Probably, anyway. I wish you’d given us the full version earlier, because we really can’t postpone hitting the hub any longer without giving them way too much time to flush information or prepare. Once we’re out, please tell us everything.”

“Right,” says Ritsuka with a nod, serious now, “Sorry.”

He returns the nod. Then gets an annoyed  look on his face. “…Shit, if whoever is attacking Ur-shanabi is tapped in enough they’re communicating openly and controlling security feeds and doors for extended periods of time, we might run into trouble trying to hit the security station to find organization heads. We might not be able to access their information there at all.”

Oh. Shit… “What then?” I ask, “We still try and figure it out if that fails?”

“It’ll be dangerous to try and comb the whole building, if it comes that,” offers Salieri thoughtfully, “We should move preemptively if we can.”

“He has a point,” agrees Emiya. He considers. “Robin, you’re by far the best scout here. You should split off and try and find any head offices or command centers they have, or any leads on where leadership might be that you can find. If security is totally down, that’s the best shot we’ve got.”

Robin gives a nod and flips up his hood.

“Will you be okay alone?” Ritsuka asks worriedly.

“Sure he will,” I answer for him, “I never knew anybody better at keeping a low profile in a tight situation.”

Robin snorts and gives me a smile. “Something like that. –Who’s taking the composer?”

“I can,” says King David, happily taking Mozart from Robin and slinging him over both shoulders like he’s carrying a sheep. I feel like maybe I oughtta volunteer, since I ain’t at all so far, but I’m even shorter than King David…

“Alright. Best of luck,” says Robin with a two-fingered solute. He activates May King and vanishes.

“Okay!” Ritsuka calls after him, “But if you get into trouble, call to me, and I’ll use a spell!”

I hear him laugh quietly. “Well if that ain’t familiar,” he says, the sound of a smile in his voice, and he’s gone then.

“Okay—let’s be quick,” says Emiya, to the rest of us, “Last time they figured out where we were, they sent yokai after us.”

[aenramsden]

Okay then.

Let’s break this down.

(Spoilers and predictions ahead, obviously.)

So, we know the first five titles in Owl House Season 2 and their short summaries. Amusingly, before seeing these I had already put some of this together from the trailer. Behold!

Episode 1: Separate Tides - “Luz feels guilty about Eda losing her powers, so she sets sail in search of a lucrative bounty to help the Owl House.”

[Image descriptions: Pic 1: Lilith and Eda sitting at school desks outside the Owl House. Pic 2: Luz in an adorable sailor outfit (complete with fish-bandana) firing an ice blast in front of some steam chimneys. Pic 3: Luz in the same outfit in front of the same chimneys casting her plant spell.]

Here we have SAILOR LUZ, in an adorable new outfit, and it seems likely that Luz’s Lessons In Glyph Magic For Cursed Witches will be prompting this quest. But I think there’s a high chance this won’t be the only boat trip we take this season, because...

[Image description: Pic 1: Luz in a different outfit, tied up on another ship with a hemispherical canopy in the background, casting an ice glyph with her feet. Pic 2: An incredibly creepy dragon with a face like two hands clasped in prayer and thumbs and fingers all over its wings and body sitting on what looks like that same canopy atop a balloon envelope, looking down with narrowed eyes.]

Here, we seem to see something that may (oh please oh please oh please) be Luz on a skyship, in snazzy cool new pants that do not match her sailor get-up. The balloon canopy the hand-dragon is perched on looks an awful lot like the one above Luz’s head in the first shot, so this is likely either a monster they encounter in whatever aircraft this is, or the possibly the thing lifting it in the first place. They might also be on a roof, but I’m getting strong balloon vibes from what it’s perched on there, so here’s hoping.

Moving on to Luz’s dangerous deal with Amity’s parents, this isn’t hard to match pictures to.

Episode 2: Escaping Expulsion - “When Amity's parents get Luz, Willow and Gus expelled from Hexside, Luz strikes a dangerous deal with them to get back into school.”

[Image descriptions: Pic 1: A giant Abomination cyborg standing in front of a sign that says “??? Industries” with an Abomination-track logo. Pic 2: A green-haired woman firing a jet of green fire from an Abomination-gun on-stage in front of a backdrop reading “Blight Industries” in the same style as the sign. Pic 3: Luz looking battered in her school uniform, running away across overhead pipework as the Abomination-cyborg chases her with a morningstar-hand.]

So yeah, fascinating stuff here. An Abomination-based company, Blight Industries, Abomination-tech. Looks like the Abomination track is the engineering/STEM field and the Blights own one of the biggest companies in the field, which is probably what Amity is being raised for (so why are the older twins in Illusions, I wonder?). This is probably going to be Luz agreeing to fight the Cy-bomination as a test run or something in order to get back into school. May or may not be an Amity-heavy episode, highly likely to have A++ Blight Parenting, child abuse and trauma either way. Be warned.

Episode 3: Echoes of the Past - “King's delusions of grandeur lead Luz, Lilith and Hooty to a dangerous new island.”

Now, this one is going to be both cool and creepy, because...

[Image descriptions: Pic 1: Hooty in a doll house in front of the Owl House door, which seems to have organs protruding from the circular hole left in his absence. Pic 2: King and Luz flying on Owlbert in front of Lilith and a Hooty-house backpack on her staff. Pic 3: Luz venturing through an old ruin with crescent-headed statues in the walls. Pic 4: One of said crescent-headed statues revealing some rather nasty claws in front of Luz and King, with a backdrop of the same ruins. Pic 5: Lilith, also in the same ruins, showing some fair aptitude with a trio of ice-glyph spells, staff in hand.]

Yeah, this one’s going to have Hooty removed from the Owl House for the episode, which might well net us some lore on what the hell he is. These might be ancient Witch ruins, which would be cool, and I’d say there’s a strong possibility it’ll also be a “Luz coming round to forgiving Lilith for what she did to Eda” subplot, depending on whether or not Luz is holding even more of a grudge over than than Eda is (which I hope she is, because it would be a good character point). Also, can I just say that I adore Lilith’s “low battery icon” t-shirt? Hilarious character point. Much love. We may also see some of her Palisman, which would be nice; it never showed any independence from her staff in S1.

Episode 4: Keeping Up A-fear-ances - “Eda gets an unwelcome visit from a family member who puts strain on everyone in the Owl House.”

[Image descriptions: Pic 1: An old witch with grey hair and a giant eagle Palisman on her staff lands(?) in front of the Owl House. Pic 2: Present Eda fade-transitions into Past Eda in a clear flashback. Pic 3: Young Eda hides behind a door looking scared as a shadow on the wall very similar to her own silhouette shouts angrily on the other side. Pic 4: An older Eda, with a cloak, Owlbert and a streak of grey in her hair, turns around as something lunges toward her in a strange spherical room with a giant keyhole-shaped opening behind her.]

Mom? Mom. That unwelcome visitor in the first picture is almost certainly Eda and Lilith’s mother, which means we are going to be getting family dynamics and possibly flashbacks. This may or may not be a full flashback episode, but I’d say it’s at least likely that this will dig into Eda’s life - we’re certainly going to be getting a flashback of Eda’s life at some point. It looks like things weren’t happy at home - that third picture may be shortly after she was cursed, or possibly a reaction to her mischief-making, and the fourth may (given that keyhole opening) be where she got the portal door. Very excited for this; I love flashback episodes.

Episode 5: Through the Looking Glass Ruins - “Gus tries to impress a group of cool kids from Glandus High, while Luz and Amity journey into the most dangerous section of the library.”

I just wanna say I absolutely called both of these points from the trailer before looking at the episode summaries. Observe!

[Image descriptions: Pic 1: Amity ties her hair back in front of a bookshelf, wearing a lanyard that says “Amity Blight: Staff”. Pic 2: Amity and Luz stand in the Library, flanked by bookshelves, in front of an enormous set of doors. Pic 3: Luz and Amity hold hands against a backdrop of blue and purple. Pic 4: Flying books/roof tiles with wings and eyes flap around amidst the rooftops. Pic 5: Gus fires a fireball through a blue magic circle in a forest, with giant thorny vines in the background. Pic 6: Gus’s fireball EXPLODES, scorching a path through more vines as four kids (one of them Matholomew) cower in the foreground.]

I was pretty sure from the library shots that there was going to be another Lumity-focused episode in the library, with the third picture possibly being books gone wild from the same episode or possibly not. Meanwhile, I connected the last two pictures from the environment and spell, and given all the plants, I’m betting this is either Gus going somewhere horribly dangerous to impress those kids, or him having accidentally upset Willow by trying to be popular and having to get her out of the horrible murderplant wall she’s surrounded himself with. 50/50, really, giant murderplants are very much her thing, but also not uncommon in the Boiling Isles ecosystem. This probably won’t be where we get canon Lumity, but I bet it’s a major step towards it. Looking forward to it!

---

So, that’s the episodes we have concrete info on. What about the ones we don’t? What else might we see this season? I believe canon Lumity is all-but-confirmed - and even if it isn’t I’d say there’s a very, very high chance - but that feels more like a mid-season thing to me. What else?

[Image descriptions: Pic 1: Lilith desperately reaches forward from where she’s fallen to the ground in the Owl House living room with hands that are growing talons and feathers. Pic 2: A monstrous Curse Beast with a white face unlike Eda’s and mottled plumage stalks around one of the Owl House doorways. Pic 3: A close up of this new Curse Beast snarling terrifyingly.]

Yup, looks like we’re getting a “Lilith’s First Transformation” episode. This confirms that she and Eda’s lessened curse will still have them (probably both) transforming sometimes, which is cool - I like the Owl Beast and it leads to interesting plots. Solid odds on this being something of a horror episode, with Curse Beast Lilith chasing them through the Owl House - and Eda no longer has magic to stop her. What’s Lilith reaching out for there in that first picture? Luz and Eda, warning them away? Her staff? The elixir? Possibly some combination of the three? Gonna be traumatic for her, that’s for certain.

[Image descriptions: Pic 1: Camilla stands in front of a fullblown string-and-newspaper-clippings conspiracy wall, looking surprised. Pics 2 & 3: Nine individuals, each wearing a white cloak fastened with a brooch that bears the symbol of one of the nine major Covens (from left to right: Bard, Beast, covered-but-presumably-Healing, Illusions, Potions, Abominations, Oracle, Plants, covered-but-presumably-Construction (same short bald guy that was manning the Construction booth at Covention).]

On the “authority figures” side of things, we have Camila! And the Coven heads! Looks like Luz’s mama is going looking for her daughter - or possibly for whoever’s sending her those creepy letters - and I hope the background there is meaningful and not just filler backdrop, because that key on a hook to her left looks significant and might be the key for the ruined shack Luz entered the Boiling Isles through, while the strange figure holding what seems to be a paddle of some kind in the newspaper clipping to her right looks like it’s at the centre of the string-web. Meanwhile, we’re gonna be seeing the heads of the major covens in some form, probably in a single episode that has all of them cameo in minor roles - except wait a moment. That figure on the far left; the head of the Bard Coven in the hooded cloak with the shiny glasses and frown. Doth my eyes deceive me? Or...

[Image descriptions: Pic 1: a short-haired older witch whose glasses and frown match the Bard Coven head turning to glare at the camera in front of a rock-strewn sandheap(?) Pic 2: The same witch playing a violin in front of a stone pillar, looking unhappy. Pic 3: Eda’s Grudgby scrapbook, including a photo of her, Lilith and a third girl in the Bard track enjoying sweets with Eda.]

... be this the same character? I believe it be! And it looks like an old friend-slash-possible-girlfriend of Eda’s! (Thanks to HeyRebeccaRose on Twitter for pointing that third picture out). That means Head Bard is probably going to get more focus than the other Coven heads (though the Abomination one is very front-and-centre and might also get significant focus from the Amity side if it’s a “Career Day” sort of episode), and we may get even more about Eda’s past.

Speaking of which...

[Image descriptions: Pic 1: A strange conical figure shrouded in robes with a single yellow eye staring out from within them, holding a purple-fire lantern and pointing with elderly, long-fingernailed hands. Pic 2: Another strange cloaked figure, this one with a crescent moon for a face and stars all over their robes.]

Who are these two? Mysterious, and somewhat Oracley in the second case. Could these perhaps be other Wild Witches? We’re likely to see a running subplot of Luz searching for more glyphs and old-style glyph magic this season, so she may well meet some. I don’t get an “antagonist” vibe from either of these, more a “mysterious possible ally” one. Wild Witches they well could be. I wonder what Luz will learn from them?

[Image descriptions: Pic 1: Creepy statues in a possible-graveyard with glowing red eyes that are crying blood. Pic 2: A giant blue dragon with a Shellder for a face that’s wreathed in cyan fire appearing out of nowhere in said creepy possible-graveyard. Pic 3: Hooty rearing up in the woods outside the Owl House, clearly fighting, surrounded by orange-glowing brown masses that could be trees or could be wings and may well be on fire either way. Pic 4: Lilith in a burning forest hitting something with a broken branch.]

What would The Owl House be without action, creepy monsters and horror? Not half as good, that’s what. These creepy evil statues may just be creepy evil statues or they may be petrified wild witches - either way, that’s probably going to be a horror episode, with the Shellder Dragon as a guardian of some sort for the possible-graveyard they’re in. And the second two pictures look alarmingly like an attack on the Owl House - one involving fire. We’re probably going to see Hooty cut loose and fight again, so, uh... RIP to his opponents, I guess. We’re also going to be getting more wide-scale action in the form of...

[Image descriptions: Pics 1-3: The Titan’s Skull, its eyes first glowing yellow, then burning with golden fire, then engulfing the whole frame in a giant explosion. Pic 4: Luz activates a combo-glyph comprised of Fire and Ice together, painted onto some giant boulder or similar. Pic 5: Luz floating apparently-unconscious in a glowing body of water of some kind, with a rope tied around her waist that’s either connected to something deeper down, or has been cut loose from whatever it was anchored to.]

... the Titan itself. Yeah, we’re going to be seeing it acting in some form this season - and I include the pictures of Luz there, because the first shows her increasing skill at glyph magic and the second looks either like a stock “fell from a great height after the rope tying her to another character/the skyship was cut, landed in water, passed out” thing, or a “communing with the Titan while in trance” pose. Or maybe even both! Certainly I think we’re going to be seeing Luz discover that Belos isn’t the only one with a way to talk to the Titan in this season, and if she takes a trip up to the Skull - highly likely - we may see it take a more active role in communicating its own desires and viewpoint, such as they are, and Luz developing her form of magic further as a result.

[Image descriptions: Pic 1: Owl-Masked figure seated on a techno-staff, waving merrily, against a backdrop of what seems to be the Skull. Pic 2: Owl-Mask in front of a set of doors, watching inscrutably as a horned figure (whose shadow is cast across them) undergoes a monstrous transformation. Pic 3: Owl-Mask taunts a caged King. Pic 4: A distressed Kikimora casts a spell. Pic 5: Luz (in her snazzy new patterned pants and cloak) leaps up onto a roof with a red bird (Palisman?) on her shoulder and Owl-Masks’s techno-staff in her hand.]

So yeah, saving the most interesting till last, there’s this asshole. Owl-Mask (and I’m not giving a gender, since we don’t know either way) is probably going to be the new Lilith in this season, either being the primary one in that role of “Belos’s hand”, or sharing the role with Kikimora (who is at minimum going to be in at least one fight). Given the techno-staff like Belos’s and the owl theme of the mask, this person has strong themes of being a foil to Luz; with Belos as their Eda. And indeed, that monstrous figure they’re watching has horns - is that Belos? Does he have a cursed form as well? That would increase the parallels even more.

Of course, it seems Luz is, hilariously, going to steal that techno-staff (like mentor, like student, I suppose), and possibly learn something about this third form of magic-as-technosorcery without glyph or circle that Belos uses. She also has a friend! This might well be someone else’s Palisman that she’s helping escape (since we see in another shot that Belos is still murdering and eating Palismans), but it might also be her own! If so, hopefully she’ll carve it from the giant wisteria tree she and Amity grew in Enchanting Grom Fight, and hopefully it will be gay as hell.

And of course, closing out the season...

[Image descriptions: Pic 1: A gauntleted hand puts a patchwork key into the keyhole of the reassembled Franken-Door-Portal as it lights up. Pic 2: Belos stands in front of the still-incomplete Franken-Door-Portal, with shaggy blonde hair reaching his shoulders and his mask in hand. The shot, even as he puts it on, very carefully hides any sight of his ears from the viewers.]

Yup. Belos’s work to reassemble the Door and the “Day of Unity” is the ticking clock this season (which I suspect it will end on him successfully opening, and then the three 44-minute Season 3 mega-episodes will be the consequences of that). I’m nearly certain he’s human at this point, the framing is just being too coy about hiding his ears for anything else, and his hands and hair are definitely humanoid rather than some kind of eldritch monster. Though I’m sceptical about him being Luz’s father as some have suggested. It’s possible, but I’d rate it as a somewhat flat twist. We are getting more Camila this season though, so who knows?

The “Day of Unity” is what he’s working up to, and I wonder - unity with what? Between all witches? Between worlds? Between him and the Titan? I’m inclined to believe him when he says it’s not as simple as a straightforward invasion of the human world, less because I trust his word (I don’t) and more because, like... what would be the point? What would it gain him?

There are a couple of other shots from the trailer I could ask about - the giant demon shadow on the wall that I called out as probably being another King gag of being cast by a tiny demon when I saw it and was vindicated by the short excerpt from Ep 1 that got released, the shot of Luz clinging to some kind of mechanical-looking arm holding a boulder, a guard using magic (maybe at a magicless Eda), a knightly-looking fellow being attacked by a giant monster, etc - but none of those are shots I can get much from in terms of what to expect, so I’ll close off there. All in all, I’m super eager for this new season and can’t wait to see how much I got right!

See you when the new episodes drop!