#his love for the carnival would never overcome being trapped where there was no one coming to it

[lucifer-kane]

Like. 95% sure, if not more, that Raven was actually going to kill himself if the cabaret crew didn't show up when they did

[jimlingss]

Moirai [3]

Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4

➜ Words: 4.8k

➜ Genres: 60% Fluff, 40% Angst, Isekai!AU

➜ Summary: Death is supposed to be the end. Or at least that's what you assumed when you're hit by a TRUCK. But the moment you open your eyes again, instead of being sent to the afterlife, you've become a baby. And not just any baby. You're the female villain of a video game.

You’re ten years old when you finally get to go to the Solar Festival.   “Come right up and challenge this brute to an arm wrestle!”   “Get your candy! Fresh candy from the west right here!”   It’s the first time you’re not deathly ill and practically on your deathbed, a secret which has been kept deep in the Devereux house. God forbid, their only heir is found to be weak. It could be detrimental to the whole aristocratic balance.   But frankly, you’re surprised you’re even alive.   While Anastasia’s death occurs shortly after she turns eighteen, the impending doom never stops weighing on your mind. You just count your blessings as each year passes.   You’re ecstatic to finally be able to go to the Solar Festival too. But you can’t believe it’s with Prince Jungkook and his bratty ass.   A year ago, you were horrified to find out you were engaged to him. It came out of nowhere, an announcement in the morning that nearly had you choking on your breakfast. You don’t know how your father managed to pull such strings, but you’re not entirely surprised. It was part of the original storyline after all.   Luckily, little has changed. It’s an arrangement only in name and was the gossip of tea parties for just a week. Jungkook is still largely uninterested in you. If anything, he still seems scared of you for that stunt you pulled when you first met. But you’re going to keep it that way.    If you can’t win him over with overbearing kindness, then fear works.   “Hey, you.” The Prince taps you on your shoulder and you realize he’s talking to you. He didn’t even refer you to your name. The damn brat. Jungkook points off to a stand and then grins. “Think you can win a prize?”   It’s a booth with three different targets two meters away and slingshots. A simple game with pretty good prizes.   You muse the game developers used a lot of modern inspirations in creating this world. The Solar Festival isn’t far off from markets and carnivals from the twenty-first century.   Jungkook smiles lazily and lolls his head at you. “Here, let me show you how it’s done.”   You scoff as he saunters off. For being only ten years old, he sure is cocky for his age.   The Prince flicks a golden coin at the vendor who bows at him and he grabs the slingshot and ball. His left eye closes and the tip of his tongue sticks out as he aims. Jungkook releases after a moment and the ball hits the second ring of the target.   “Amazing job, Your Highness,” the commoner stutters out while bowing again.   Jungkook pays no mind to him, but he turns his head towards you and smirks. “See?”   Your brow twitches and you step up to the booth. You grab the slingshot out of his hand, take a ball and within two seconds, you fire.    Bullseye.   It’s your turn to shift and smirk at the Prince. Pft. A game like this is easy peasy. C’mon, you used to play at arcades and amusement parks where all their games were professionally rigged.   “C-Congratulations!” The vendor hands you a massive brown bear that nearly overcomes you in size.   Jungkook’s jaw has dropped.   “Would you like the prize, Your Highness?”   He points at you. “You cheated!”   “Excuse me?!”   “Cheater!”   Jungkook stomps away and you’re left following after him while glaring into his backside.    The two of you are accompanied by two knights trailing after you. It’s more intimate than being surrounded in a room full of adults and dressed in extravagant attire. You suppose going to the Solar Festival together with the Prince, aka. your fiancé, is supposed to give off the impression that you’re actually close to him and that this isn’t just a shallow engagement.    The actual truth emerges as you’re busy studying the sign of a food booth. You’re perplexed that they have corn dogs here, or whatever they call it in Ashea, and as you turn around, Jungkook and the guards are gone.   Are you fucking kidding me? Did he actually leave you behind?!   You start wandering, scanning the heads around, looking past hordes of strangers, darting between their legs, dodging bodies. But the crowd is thick and before you’re swept up completely, you flounder out of the mass to the perimeters of the Solar Festival. It’s emptier there, only couples searching for an intimate space and stragglers who want a breath of air.    But by sheer coincidence and coincidence only, a familiar boy comes into your sight.   What the hell is he doing here?   You step back in surprise and cover your face with your massive plush bear. It's only when you peek out that your eyes permanently set onto Taehyung. He’s dressed in a black cloak, but the brown strands of his hair are too distinct. He’s taller than when you last remembered, growing into his skin as well. His cheeks are less rounded than before, eyes becoming sharper.   He doesn’t notice you, at least not yet. He’s too busy taking in the Solar Festival, gawking at the crowds, the twinkling lights and glowing lanterns. He stands at a distance, seemingly overwhelmed.   It feels like you’ve accidentally stumbled into a scene you’re not a part of.   It’s then that you remember there was a flashback in the game. Jungkook invited him to go out, but he couldn’t until he gave into the temptation and snuck outside the castle walls himself. This marks the first time Taehyung left the palace since his mother’s passing three years ago. He’s been trapped inside as the embodiment of the royal family’s shame since.   In the game, you remember he wanted food but didn’t have a single coin to his name.   But that’s not your problem.   You’re not supposed to be here anyway. So, you turn and walk away………………..   “Do you want a corn dog?”    Yet, somehow, you find yourself shown up in front of him regardless, arm extended with the stick of deep fried batter. Taehyung’s caught off guard, eyes wide but you’ve already diverted your vision, staring off at the side with an unknowing pout.    You can’t keep running away. You don’t want to.    The last time you did, Taehyung’s mother suffered the consequences of your inaction.   “I don’t know what they call it here in Ashea, but it’s a corn dog to me.”   The pair of you end up sitting together on a bench on the outskirts of the festival. The enormous teddy bear you won sits upright to your left as Taehyung is on your right. You’d be shrouded in darkness if not for the dim luminescence of the strung lights at the distance.    You bite into the hot corn dog, listening to the crunch and Taehyung’s chewing beside you.   He doesn’t say much, so you focus on gobbling up the oily treat.    Truth be told, you feel pity for Taehyung. Guilty. In a lot of ways, the two of you are similar. Outcasted. Isolated. The game developers are real assholes for creating this kind of backstory for the main antagonists while all the protagonists do is fall in love.    Once you’re done eating, you wipe your hands onto your navy pea coat.    The maids can clean it later.   “This is actually the first time I’ve been to the Solar Festival,” you pipe up, swinging your legs on the edge of the bench.   He looks at you, chewing in his cheek. “It’s mine too.”   You figured.   Suddenly, a surge of motivation washes over you.    Alright! You got some money on you. You can blow your entire allowance today and make it the best day ever for Taehyung!   You twist yourself to him with conviction set in your eyes. He’s startled and leans back. “Is there anything you want to do here then?!”   The corner of his mouth tugs. “Not really.”   You deflate. “Oh.”   It simmers down into quietness again, the bustle filling the spaces in between. Taehyung looks straight ahead yet you still catch his timid voice. “I never thought I’d see you again.”   It sinks in after a delayed second and you turn to him slowly. “You remember me?”   It was less than five minutes. Three years ago. A brief encounter at his mother’s burial.   “Why would I forget?” Taehyung smiles softly to himself. “So I’m just happy sitting here beside you.”   In hindsight, he probably wouldn’t have followed you or eaten beside you compliantly if you were a complete stranger to him. But to hear him say that aloud, you feel even sadder. You’re probably the closest thing he has to a friend right now.   You become silent, the knowledge of his future and yours heavy upon your shoulders.   “Revenge isn’t as great as you think it is,” you mutter.   The ten-year old boy frowns. “Pardon?”   You shake your head. “Never mind.”    What’s the point? It’s not like you could say anything to make it better. You know he’s dead set on it, on avenging his mother’s murder and you can’t even blame him for being so angry. For being so fixated. So lonely.   He’s hidden in the castle’s shadows — the only person who cared for him is gone.   You recall from the wikipage on the characters that it’s around this time Taehyung starts dabbling in magic by himself. He ends up becoming one of the greatest magicians in the empire, but obviously winds up using it for bad.   You eagerly twist yourself towards the boy, nearly nose to nose with him. “Don’t learn magic!”   “What?” Taehyung’s frowning, unable to understand where your random demand came from.   You lean closer to him. “Magicians aren’t that great and magic can blow up in your face. Literally.”   A beat later, your eyes stray off of Taehyung’s eyes to three figures in the distance. Jungkook is spinning in every direction, lugging his legs, expression tired and begrudging. The two knights are also looking around and you realize they’re searching for you.   “I have to go.” You hop onto your feet and grab your brown bear. “Bye!”   “Wait!” Taehyung whips himself around, but by then, you’ve already run off. His hand slips into the cloak’s pocket and he looks down at the pink handkerchief in hand with a small sigh.    You feel bad about leaving him behind, but you hope he enjoys the festival even if it’s just a little.

The room is small, dark and dank. With only a single bed in a wooden frame and a wardrobe, he often sits facing the window, looking up at the azure sky and the cotton clouds that are drifting past.   “Your Highness.”   A maid knocks at the door and he turns, sliding off the bed to follow after her quietly without question.   The only time he’s allowed to leave his bedroom is to the study. ‘Even if he’s a bastard child, no son of the King can be uneducated’ is what they said.   “You got two wrong on your examination.” The tutor flips over the parchments. “I’m surprised you managed to memorize up to the fifth volume of the Kalisis scriptures and the fundamental theory of Mahhild, but we’ll have to review Ashea’s sacred Imperial Language.”   Taehyung nods. “I’m sorry.”   “Do better next time.”   Silence settles as the older man puts aside the parchment and goes to pull books from the nearby shelves. In the meanwhile, Taehyung’s eyes stray outside the window to the wispy clouds, keeping still in his seat. He doesn’t ask many questions. He simply learns what is given to him and apologizes when he fails. But his mind strays to a girl in a navy pea coat, someone with a soft expression, who somehow always appears in front of him when he needs it most. And he can’t help his curiosity—   “Sir.” At the sound of his voice, the tutor turns around. “Do you...happen to know anyone by the name of Anastasia?”   The older man’s brow quirks. “You mean the Crown Prince’s fiancée, Anastasia Loretta Devereux?”   Taehyung’s caught off guard. “Fiancée?”   “Why do you ask?”   “N-No reason. I just heard of the name somewhere.” He looks away and the man finishes grabbing the textbooks, dropping them down on the surface in front of him. Taehyung’s fist is crumpled in his lap, quiet.    He didn’t know you were Jungkook’s fiancée. He didn’t know you were from the Devereux house either. Even he’s heard of that name before — the Duke’s house is an influential one.   Taehyung doesn’t know anything about you. He realizes it now.   But that doesn’t mean his desire has dwindled away. He still wants to see you again.   “Is it...possible to travel to another estate, but not by carriage?”   “Not by carriage?” The tutor pushes up his spectacles, puzzled by the inquiry that has come out of nowhere. “There’s horse, boat, ship, teleportation, but of course, you’re not allowed to use magic. Is there somewhere you would like to go?”   He quickly shakes his head.    They would never let him leave.   But he’s tired of waiting for the next encounter, for the next coincidence.   That night, Taehyung cracks open the door of his room. The hallway is swallowed in darkness with only a tiny sliver of the moon’s luminescence that will wane away tomorrow. So with his breath hitched and no one in sight, he slips into the shadows. He traces his steps down the corridor, turning the corner, up the small staircase and enters the library next door to the study.    Taehyung cringes as the glass doors creak, but once the gap is large enough, he fits himself through. The bookcases tower up three floors, ceiling high and the walkways between shelves narrow.    He doesn’t know where he should go, so he twists through the endless library and glances at the spines of the books before moving on.   It’s half an hour later that he finds what he’s looking for.    Magic: A Basic Guide for Beginners.   Taehyung reaches up on the tips of his toes and smoothly pulls the spine from its slot. He holds the emerald green cover to his chest and beelines straight out of the library.   He arrives back in his room with little to no trouble and sits on the floor far away from the door. Taehyung’s back leans against the wooden bedpost and he faces the window to allow the silver light to catch onto the cover. He cracks it open a second later and flips through the crisp pages until he finds what he’s looking for.   Teleportation.   A type of transport magic that allows one to travel to different locations without having to traverse the spaces in between. It is accomplished by the user visualizing the desired location and channeling their mana. If successful, the user will disappear from their current location and materialize at their desired location.    Transportation is by far the fastest way to travel between large distances. However, the success in which a user is able to teleport is dependent on skill level, inborn magical abilities and how detailed the location can be visualized.   Taehyung reads each word carefully and flips over the page to see if there are more details.   Once he realizes that’s all to be read, he shuts his eyes.    He doesn’t know where you are. He doesn’t know what the Devereux estate looks like.   But he thinks about you. The girl who handed him that pink handkerchief, the one who appeared in front of him with a stick of food, who sat beside him underneath that tree, on that bench.   Please let me see her again. Please.   Please.   Through sheer willpower, Taehyung suddenly feels a rush in his body as if he’s falling inside a dream. His senses tingle. Then, there’s cold wind pulling against his cheeks and through his hair, the moonlight no longer shining on his eyes.   His lashes flutter as his lid pulls open.   He’s standing in an empty, grassy field. But at the horizon is an illuminated manor.   The corner of his mouth tugs and he takes a step towards it.   But—   “No. No!”   He feels himself being pulled back. A force that prevents him from moving any further. Taehyung’s arm stretches out towards the manor the size of his thumb as if he could grab onto it. But no matter how hard he tries to stay, the next moment he blinks, he’s returned to the small, dark, dank room.   Taehyung’s chest rises and falls.   He was so close.   There’s a quiet knock at the door and he jolts out of his trance. Instantly, he pushes the book underneath the bed.   The door cracks open. Luckily, it isn’t a maid, servant or someone who’s come to punish him. It’s a dark haired boy with doe eyes, his younger brother who’s two inches shorter than he is.    “Taehyung?”   Taehyung stands up. “What are you doing here?”   Jungkook pouts, dressed in oversized, silk pajamas. “I thought we could play.”   “You know the Queen won’t be happy if she sees me with you.”   “I know.” Jungkook’s voice is pitched, brown eyes looking into his. Yet, he’s still hesitant at the doorway. “But no one will know!”   His younger brother is clueless. He has no idea what consequences or punishment means. He’s the Crown Prince. Pampered. Beloved. Everything he wants, he gets. He came here to play without knowing that if anyone saw, Taehyung would be the one punished. Starved. Locked into his room. There’s a reason he’s kept in the cold Western towers and Jungkook is free to roam the South, East and Northern wings. The entire castle is at his feet.   It’s unfair.   It’s so unfair that Taehyung wants to scream. But no one will hear.   They’re the same. Two boys with the same father. A few months apart. Yet one is loved and the other loathed.   Taehyung’s afraid one day he will come to hate Jungkook.   “We still shouldn’t. Go back to bed, Jungkook.”   “I can’t even stay for a minute?” He huffs out, shoulders slumping, dejected. Taehyung pulls the covers and climbs into his bed. After another moment, Jungkook gives up. “Fine. Goodnight.”   The door shuts and Taehyung rolls on his side to look out the window.   He was so close. A few more minutes and it would’ve been enough.   //   Taehyung guesses he has a natural gift for magic. The book says transportation is one of the more difficult spells that needs a lot of practice, but he made it on his first try without even knowing where the estate is.   The place only becomes more vivid in his mind the more times he goes. It becomes easier for him to visualize, easier for him to visit. And he tries with every chance he gets, every moment of his day, every minute spent alone.   Taehyung steals these secret seconds that have become what he looks forward to most. It’s the reason why he wakes up. Each time, he gathers his magic and teleports himself, it’s an opportunity to see you.   This time, it’s in the afternoon after lunch is brought to his room. Taehyung shuts his eyes and tries to imagine the manor with its brown walls, rounded windows, green field, a majestic arcway door.   When he opens his eyes and looks down at his hands materializing, he discovers that he’s at the side of the house, standing next to the wall.   “My lady!”   Taehyung jolts and peeks out from the corner. There’s a maid looking around and shouting with her hands cupped around her mouth. “My lady! Your dance lessons are starting! My lady?!”    His eyes stray upwards and the corner of his mouth tugs when he finds you in a tall tree. You’re wearing a brown dress with a flower bonnet, hidden up in the branches with a mischievous smile as you look down at the dismayed maid who’s completely oblivious.    He stifles back a laugh.   But it withers away when his body starts to fade.   No. No!   When Taehyung blinks again, he’s returned to his room. Back to where he belongs.   He slumps down on his bed in disappointment. He wanted it to last longer. But maybe next time. Next time, he’ll try harder and maybe then…..maybe then, he’ll actually get to talk to you.   //   The next evening, when no one’s around, Taehyung tries once more.   He shuts his eyes and thinks of you, thinks about the land, the house.   And it comes faster to him this time.    He doesn’t have to wait as long before he feels the breeze against his cheeks, the air fresh to his nose. He’s placed at the same spot as yesterday, by the wall near the back. Except neither you nor a maid are outside. In your place is the sun setting over the horizon, the rays casting into his eyes through the tree branches. The sky is painted in shades of a blazing bonfire, amber, ruby, citrine.   But Taehyung’s not here to admire the outside world. He looks down at his hands to make sure he’s materialized and he starts pacing around the perimeter of the manor. He ducks beneath windows when workers or kitchen staff walk by and sneaks along the walls to make sure he’s not caught.   It seems like he won’t be able to find you today.   But then he hears a— “ha!” followed by a metal whistle as something cuts through the air.   Taehyung peeks through the window to see you swinging your sword in the middle of your bedroom. You’re twirling it around, but after a moment, the weapon clanks to the ground and you drop down next to it on your butt.    “God, I’m so tired!”   Taehyung smiles to himself. His fist lifts to knock on the glass.   At the same time, the corner of your eye catches movement. So you turn your head.   But there’s nothing there.   Your brows furrow and you blink hard. But there really is nothing outside your windows. You swore you saw someone.    Maybe you’re just going crazy.    You should probably call quits for tonight and stop practicing.    You don’t know that miles away, Taehyung has appeared back in his room, looking down at his hands stitching into its form, materializing in the small, dark, and dank space. More importantly, he doesn’t see the horrified maid standing at the open doorway until it’s too late.   He’s been caught.   “Where did you go?”    Taehyung’s thrown onto the marble flooring, cheek bruised at the Queen’s feet. She looks down at him, dressed in a luxurious black gown with golden flowers, hair pulled in an updo with silver ornaments. The maid who tattled smirks as she stands on the sidelines. A guard passes the Queen the emerald spell book and she glances at it before tossing it on the ground where he’s been flung.   “And don’t you dare try to deny it.”   Taehyung sharply inhales at his stinging cheek and looks to the open book.   He exhales a silent breath of relief.    They don’t have the handkerchief.   If they did, she would’ve ripped it in front of him and thrown down the shreds. He’s glad he hid it well between his pillowcase.   “I...I just wanted to go outside. I’m sorry.”   “You’re lying.”   Taehyung looks up. “I swear—!”   Before he can inhale, Taehyung’s head is suddenly whipped to his side. The sound of the slap echoes through the lavish chamber and his hand lifts to cup at his numb cheek now printed with the Queen’s diamond rings.    “You lie!” she spits at him, eyes narrowed in.    “You think I was born yesterday?! There’s no reason for you to use magic to go outside. I know what you’re doing. You’re conspiring against me! Against the King. You’re trying to get rid of your brother and take the throne for yourself! Who taught you?! Who were you visiting?! Tell me.”   Taehyung grits his teeth. He turns his head to look back at the woman.   His hands crumple into fists.   “No one.”   Tears flood his vision. All he wanted was to see you.   But he’s weak. He can’t do anything. Much less fulfill his only wish.   “You dare lie to me again?” She scoffs. “Whoever it is, I will find them and I will punish them.”   He can’t protect himself. He couldn’t protect his own mom.   But he can still protect you.   “I said, no one taught me and I was seeing no one.”   She scoffs loudly and points to the maid by the door. “You there! Report to the King what you found out. When you’re done, let everyone know that this bastard is to be confined to his room for the next three months on full watch. Make sure he won’t be able to leave no matter what.”   “Yes, Your Majesty.”   The Queen stands, height looming over the ten-year old boy. She looks him dead in the eye, lips curling into a snarl. “Don’t think this is the end of it. I won’t let you run around and do as you wish like your whorish mother did. You can deny it for all you want. You won’t eat until you speak.”   “Take him away!” she shouts at the guards and they grab the back of his collar, dragging him upwards and out. Taehyung doesn’t scream, he doesn’t cry. His eyes dim as he looks at the woman until the gap of the door shuts in his face.    He won’t see you anymore. Not until he becomes strong enough.   Inside the room, the Queen collapses back onto her sofa. She sighs heavily and rubs her throbbing temples between her fingertips. Her personal attendant comes to her side and bows. “Is there anything I can do for you, Your Majesty?”   “It’s suffocating being here,” she mutters and drops her hand. “Hmm, maybe I’ll take the trip down to the Summer Palace in Florendale early this year.”   The maid dips her head. “I will make the preparations then.”

Edith swiftly enters the room one morning, drawing the curtains roughly and shedding the blinding sunlight into your still-sleepy eyes. You wince and pull the covers over your head, but she rips them off of you unceremoniously.   What the hell. Seriously?!   “It’s time to get ready.”   “Why?” you groan, peeling one eye open and pressing your cheek to your pillow.   Edith doesn’t stop moving. She opens the doors to your wardrobe and starts picking through the racks of dresses. “The Queen is on her deathbed with the incurable plague. The Duke and Duchess will be leaving for the castle immediately within ten minutes. You must go with them to fulfill your duties as the heir of the Devereux house.”   It takes a delayed moment for the information to sink into your foggy mind.   But then, you’re bolting upright with wide eyes. “Wait. What?!”    You’re horrified.    This isn’t part of the original game. The Queen is supposed to be alive and well even past your supposed execution date!   But there’s no time to dwell when your face is washed and you’re dressed in a black gown, barely enough time to brush your hair. You’re rushed into the carriage and the coachman rides at a hasty speed. Your mother, in the meanwhile, lectures you to stay quiet and solemn.   Your entire family soon arrives at the familiar castle and you’re guided to the main hall.   Jungkook is sobbing in the corner, being comforted by a swarm of attendants. You’re at a loss, looking around, trying to grasp what’s going on. There’s no sight of Taehyung whatsoever.   Your father, carrying the high status of the Duke, manages to visit the King and the Queen in their personal chambers. You’re brought along behind your mother, staying silent as she had instructed you to do. Your parents offer their condolences, but when you peek out behind her and past the royal healers, blood drains from your face.   The Queen is pale. Barely breathing in her bed. Cysts and welts bubble on her wrinkled skin.   Even you know she’s not going to recover. But how? How did this happen?!   The respects your parents give doesn’t last long. You’re soon being brought into the main hall again in favour of delegates from the smaller Eastern empire giving their condolences. But on your way, you catch the murmurs of the maids.   “—plague in Florendale.”   “How awful! If only Her Majesty went in the Autumn season as she usually does. I don’t know why she chose to go earlier this year.”   “It was truly the wrong place at the wrong time.” — “A tragedy!” — “Why is Her Majesty’s fate so unfortunate?”   You can barely stitch together the pieces of what happened and all the gaps in between are full of more questions. Why these changes are happening. Why the original game is changing so much.   What this means.   A feeling of uncertainty swells inside of you.

[askyourwritergrandma]

how to make coherent fulfilling ending when i’m only writing the thing to put the characters in funny little scenarios that are deeply satisfying to me and me only??

First off, anon, you are selling yourself entirely too short. You're hardly the only writer that is "just" writing to put the characters in funny little scenes that appeal to themselves. We all do it, literally every person that writes, and anyone who says that they do not do so and/or they have never done so is lying to themselves.

Writing is many things, and you should take pride in your creation regardless of its intent. So, keeping that in mind...

Onto the Advice!

I would be remiss if I didn't start out this section by saying that if this is truly a fiction created for yourself, you absolutely do not need to have a coherent, fulfilling ending. Some things exist in our imaginations and our fiction as slices of life that really have no ending because they don't exist as a larger whole. When I am indulging myself in this sort of scene, I simply stop writing when I get to the point where I no longer want to add anything else. Sometimes this skips any kind of conclusion entirely.

That is ok. It is absolute 100% perfectly fine.

But since you asked about how to craft an ending here we go:

Conclusions are your musical fade out of fiction. In order for them to be satisfying you have to ask yourself what conflicts existed in your story. What did your characters want to happen, what kept them from getting what they wanted, and how did they overcome that. Internal/external conflict/whatever, something slowed them down.

What emotions did they experience during this conflict?

Did they grow as a person during this conflict?

What is the physical location/elements of setting of your story/scene?

Remembering that your conflict should actually be resolved prior to the proper ending of the story, the "ending"/"conclusion" is just meant to be that little bit at the end that leaves the reader with an echo of what your Protagonist is feeling.

So, you've written a story where Franz and Franklin were trapped in the unrelenting hell of a funhouse mirror maze (accidentally, because they were making out when the carnival closed) for the past 10 hours and they've suffered through hours of agonizing self-reflection (ha! literally) and emerged with the realization that life is hard, that Franz is fulfilled in his life as a crossing guard for the local clown school and Franklin has always wanted to be a deep sea fisherman but despite these differences, they do very much love one another your most natural ending would be something like this:

"I don't even know what I don't know about becoming a fisherman." Franklin was exhausted, on the point of collapse, leaning against Franz and the damned mirror behind them. They were both looking down rather than forward, sparing themselves of the terrible caricature of their own faces warped out of shape. "There's always a way to find out," Franz promised. "We'll figure it out together." They might have fallen asleep like that, snuggled together in the warmth of their reaffirmed love, kept safe from the unrelenting vision of their own faces, if not for the distant sound of a door being kicked. The gruffness of a voice cursing through the splintering wood. If they'd listened closer they might have been able to make out, "what the hell happened to this door?" But they were not concerned with what was being said so much that anything was being said. Someone was speaking that meant someone was here and they were finally going to be released. Franz and Franklin moved with such speed that they were fighting against one another, pushing each other back into place in their attempt to get to their feet. They collapsed in a fit of hysterical laughter, barely able to hear the cracking sound of the door finally opening. Franz wrapped an arm around Franklin's shoulder and pulled him closer, kissed his forehead wet-and-messy, as the first breath of fresh air blew into the maze.

(Example is intentionally silly)

The conclusion does multiple things, it takes into account that they are escaping their physical location which was both part of the conflict and an important element of the setting of the larger story. It reminds the readers (and you) that despite all of the shouting and conflict and name calling of the greater story, these two people love one another and are together regardless of what they face by having them literally embracing in the end. The final emotion is one of amused relief and togetherness.

I've condensed everything I want you to take with you from my story into a bite-sized snickers and sent you on your way.

Now, not every story has a fulfilling, happy ending but even if you're aiming for a bittersweet, horrifying, depressing, terrifying, etc ending the process is the same. You ask yourself if my conflict was 'unaware ingenue gets locked in a cabin with three serial killers' how to bring that to a natural ending. In this case, you can either kill the girl and have your killers walk out scott-free, show your conclusion them getting coffee at the local convenience store, exchanging barbs with the cashier about local college football or you can have your ingenue kill the three and she emerges from the woods blood-splattered, exhausted and forever traumatized but still ends up at that convenience store only she just kind of stands there while people take in the sight of her covered in blood. It fades out to the sound of them asking her what happened and if she's okay to the internal monologue of her deadened emotional state.

If your story is about Mickey, Donald and Goofy getting lost in a pumpkin maze it's going to end with either them being rescued by Minnie and Daisy, them destroying the maze in a panic (and laughing it off) or the pumpkins eating them and acting like nothing happened.

So my final advice is this: take the pressure off yourself.

If you've consumed popular media in the form of books/tv/movies you have an imposing notion of what an ending should be. That doesn't mean its real, that's just what the people making money want us to think is the One True Ending.

If you've consumed writing advice or taken classes of any kind, you are exposed to this elevated notion of what stories should be. I'm not going to tell you that writing advice/classes are bad but they do have an unfortunate side effect of making writing feel inaccessible. Take what speaks to you from any advice and just ignore the rest.

I hope this helped! Thank you for the ask!

[takerfoxx]

Notes on Restless

A day overdue, but here it is! My thoughts on writing Restless.

Restless is, in many ways, the most important arc in the story, not because it is the most plot or character significant (though it definitely is very important to both), but because it was one of the first, if not the first story arc I planned out, and have been cooking up in the back of my mind and working toward ever since this story started. And, as indicated by the title, it is one big reference to the Buffy the Vampire Slayer episode Restless, which is my favorite episode and also featured all of the main characters trapped in their little dream worlds.

What can I say; I like dream sequences!

In fact, and I know I have mentioned this a few times already, but it bears repeating the first chapter of this arc was literally the very first scene I thought up for this story, back when I was still in post-episode 9 depression and wanted nothing more for Kyoko and Oktavia to reunite somewhere and be happy together (well, the story definitely gives us the former, but, um, not really the latter, because I am still a sadist). If memory serves, my original vision had the two of them and Mami relaxing in a fantasy-world hot spring that had a bunch of big crystals everywhere (because I like crystals), only for them to be interrupted by the sound of something moving nearby, and, upon inspection, they would find the doll version of Charlotte watching them.

Obviously that scenario’s gone through a lot of fine-tuning, especially when it comes to Charlotte. And the crystals got moved to the end of the story after the hot spring had been removed, but hey, they still made the final cut. Regardless, I did settle on a finalized version some years ago, and the final cut came out more-or-less exactly as I envisioned, down to Mami and Charlotte going off alone for some, ah, quality time.

The only new addition was Jerky’s little scene and the Sayaka/Oktavia flirting sequence, and, well, that happened. I honestly don’t know if I’m even allowed to say much about it without getting into trouble with someone, even though I wrote it, but let’s just say the time has come to finally kick things into high gear on that end.

Okay, so onto the dreams!

Kyoko’s dream was of course the one I came up with first, and yet ended up being the shortest. I guess it’s because while she’s white-hot mess of issues, she’s at least a straightforward white-hot mess of issues, and honestly, it came out more-or-less how I initially planned years ago, with very little addition.

Now, Mephisto gave us a pretty clear breakdown of what the individual girls’ dreams meant thematically when she started torturing them directly, but it bears repeating that Kyoko’s dream was mainly dealing with her poor reaction to loss (the concept, not the meme), specifically the loss of Sayaka to Oktavia, and her stubborn and yet misguided quest to bring Sayaka back at any cost.

We start with a perfect repeat of her dream from waaaaaaaay back from chapter five, when she was first waking up from being drugged. I was originally just going to begin with the continuation, but it had been so long since that chapter that I just copied and pasted the original dream so we can have it in its entirety, which included the all-important image of Sayaka dissolving into silver fishes.

From there it’s mainly Kyoko’s singleminded quest to find Sayaka at any cost. And from there, we see her think that she’s found her time after time, only to be disappointed, from thinking that Madoka was Sayaka (and it’s a shame that they never interacted more beyond that single episode, as they had a good dynamic), to nearly catching the silver-fish Sayaka only to have her torn away, to finally finding the fake fish-faced conductor Sayaka, further establishing her inability to accept Oktavia as not being Sayaka. The hole that her father left in her heart and how deeply she misses him even with what he did does come up, but she abandons catching him once Kyubey makes it clear that doing so is impossible, as well as showing that while she still loves her father, part of her still does not forgive him and she truly believes that he went to Hell.

Also, was that the first time I’ve had Kyubey show up and have original dialogue? Because it might be!

Mephisto’s first appearance has her occupying the same role that she would in everyone’s dreams, that of a surly gatekeeper. She’s a bouncer in Kyoko’s dream, a ticket-taker/ride operator in Sayaka’s, a hostess in Mami’s, and a receptionist in Charlotte’s. And in each one, she lets the dreamer pass while making it clear that doing so is probably a bad idea. Her design was a lot of fun, though there truly is no significance to her rainbow dreadlocks, punk-rock aesthetic, or denim outfit, other than I liked the way they looked. Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.

Annabelle Lee and the dockengauts have very short appearances in the nightclub, as despite all the pain they’ve put Kyoko through, she is still so singleminded in her pursuit that she considers them nothing more than obstacles to be overcome, which Annabelle Lee would probably be annoyed to hear.

As for Mami’s weird striptease, well, Kyoko is just now having to grapple with her own budding sexuality, and it stands to reason that Mami would have been an early crush for her. The “ending” though shows that while she’s more-or-less okay with Charlotte, she is still very aware of how Mami died.

Like Annabelle Lee, Elsa Maria would have the same role in everyone’s dream, the same role she had in Annabelle Lee’s feverish dream during the Help arc, that of the person who points the way to what the dreamer is seeking while still advising against it, which is always ignored. Though don’t read too much into her working with Mephisto in the end, as it’s not the real Elsa Maria and Mephisto is still the one in control.

And what better place for Kyoko, now Ophelia, to start her quest to find Sayaka for real than the same train station that she originally lost Sayaka in?

Anyway, while this chapter came out basically as originally envisioned, there are a couple things that I wish I had included, firstly a scene where Kyoko loses her necklace while being swept along by the current for Sayaka to find it later, and to have the sound of the crying child from the beginning to continue throughout the whole chapter, showing that she still hadn’t forgotten her quest to find her sister, as impossible as it might seem now.

Sayaka’s dream had largely to do with her and Oktavia’s issues with personal identity, and the dichotomy that Oktavia feels at all times, but translated through Sayaka’s eyes. In fact, bits and pieces of both their personalities are present through the circus (and given that Rumia’s dream took place in a circus in Imperfect Metamorphosis, it does just seem to be a recurring theme with me). The whole knight in shining armor for Sayaka is obvious, as is her sense of righteous justice as what Lily did. But her dynamics with the various characters that she comes across, her memories in general, her growing attraction to Kyoko, and her annoyance at being addressed incorrectly is all Oktavia.

It’s the two Kyoko encounters I want the highlight. The first at the shooting gallery shows that while Oktavia does love Kyoko, she is getting quite fed up with the constant nicknames in place of her actual name, while the second in the dunking tank shows her growing concern that Kyoko’s dogheaded persistence is only going to keep getting her hurt until there’s nothing left, as well as show her growing sexual attraction to Kyoko as she is progressively more stripped.

Mami and Charlotte’s brief appearance was in part to get them on the dream, and so show that that while Oktavia cares for them deeply, she’s not nearly as worried about them as she is Kyoko, hence why they’re here so briefly. Also, them pushing Ticky Nikki around in a stroller, aside from being Nikki’s only appearance this whole arc, was also a tip of the hat to the original Restless episode from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, as Giles’s dream had him and his girlfriend pushing a stroller around through a carnival in the middle of a graveyard.

The Freakshow was a mixture of the traumatic monsters both Sayaka and Oktavia had to encounter, from the various witch familiars and to Gertrud, the first witch Sayaka ever saw, to the witch form of Charlotte, who traumatized Sayaka deeply, to Brooklyn, who briefly showed up earlier and was sort of Oktavia’s nemesis in The Heist and targeted her specifically, which left a mark.

And that whole business with Annabelle Lee “pouring” Kyoko into the tank was to lean more into dream logic, where deeply personal fears tend to be translated through nonsensical imagery. I’ve had plenty of dreams where I’d “lose” a close friend or family member because they got turned into a jar of dried corn or something and I’d just be so devastated and obsessed with turning said corn back into my loved one, and it’d be very serious and emotional, and it wouldn’t be until I had woken up that I’d realize, “Dude, dried corn?” Plus, her guilt about stabbing Annabelle Lee was a reference to Sayaka’s own increasing guilt when she realized that she wasn’t the shining hero she had wanted to be.

The clown dance is pretty self-explanatory, in that Sayaka spent so much time killing witches and treating them like monsters only to become a witch herself. Plus, given how quick her downfall was, it serves to reason that she would think of herself as a clown. Plus, I just like Lily as a character, and wanted any excuse to use her as much as possible.

The whole bit with the train station acting as the loading gate for the roller-coaster is also fairly obvious. That’s where Sayaka became Oktavia, hence the cart turning into the wheelchair, or the coaster track leading into Oktavia’s barrier. I’m honestly not too thrilled about the coaster going through Genocide City, because while having it make an appearance makes sense, since it’s literally Oktavia’s first memory, but if I recall, I had the hardest time settling on a location for the rollercoaster to ride through before heading into the castle. I tried Freehaven, the outside of the high school, and returning to the circus itself before just settling with Genocide City, which honestly was chosen mainly because the deadline was coming up and I had to go with something. I guess it works though.

There really isn’t much to say about the reversed Kyoko/Oktavia fight, as it’s literally just a perspective flip of their final battle. Incredibly important and significant as it embodies the entirety of Sayaka’s aspect as the “Monster” of her dream and hammered in her connection to Kyoko? Absolutely. Has much that I can explain that isn’t literally sitting right on the surface? Nope.

We do get Mephisto basically spelling out Sayaka’s contradictory identity in her final days though, in which she was the valiant knight she always wanted to be, she was the damsel in distress that Madoka and Kyoko tried and failed to rescue, and she was the monster holding that damsel captive. No doubt that part was inspired by the meme of the Dragonborn princess paladin who was hired to rescue herself from herself.

From there, the “Monster” is slain, and the cute mermaid Oktavia von Seckendorff is born, the only time during her own dream that she makes a full appearance. She then is treated to a montage of Sayaka’s memories, but of course, they mean nothing to her.

However, I would like to point out what amounted to the payoff of a joke I had set up literally years ago. Readers of all my stuff might remember that way back in Rhapsody of Subconscious Desire, another story that took place in a dream world, Kaguya Houraisan was split into two identical copies of herself, called Head and Body, who encountered Oktavia swimming around in a large aquarium, who in turn shot them a rude gesture and swam off. Here, we finally see the inverse of that scene, which is why a couple of previously unseen twin girls showed up with no explanation.

Next is where the dreams start to converge. Oktavia finds Kyoko’s necklace (which, again, I wish I had included in Kyoko’s dream. Maybe in time I’ll go back and edit it in) and meets the silver fish’s from Kyoko’s dream, absorbing them and turning fully into the princess and, as a result, Sayaka Miki finally returns in full.

Funny thing about that.

At this point, I didn’t know how much the whole Sayaka thing would play out, and originally she would just be Oktavia in a dress. But after having Sayaka’s memories intrude again and again, I thought, “Huh, wouldn’t it be fun if she just became Sayaka again for a short time? Have a weird inverse of the Oktavia situation?” and went ahead and did it.

This choice led to…major consequences.

Mami’s dream is next, and despite being the one that I literally had planned out the least ahead of time, ended up being the most fun to write. Naturally, her dream dreams with her immense guilt over having been Kyubey’s poster girl for so long, helping him ensnare several innocent girls into his scheme as well as kill them off herself when they became witches. Also, it served as a little nod to Candeloro’s job as a baker in WN. Anyway, the whole thing was heavily influenced by Sweeney Todd, in that victims are misled into doing something they think is innocent, only for them to be gruesomely murdered and sent off to be turned into food.

The world of candles is just something I thought would be neat imagery, so infer from it what you wish. However, it is interesting to note that Mami is the only one to have a dream that features Annabelle Lee as the persistent antagonist that she is, showing up over and over to antagonize her. There wasn’t an intended reason for this, but come to think of it, with Kyoko focused on her endgame, Oktavia just wanting her friends to be safe, and Charlotte obsessed with what was lost, Mami would be the one most living in the nowness of their situation, convinced that she is finally in Hell for her sins.

In the restaurant, Mami is indirectly guilt-tripped by Shizuku for essentially abandoning all of her responsibilities to help Kyoko, and is then given a choice: abandon her quest and stay with her loved ones, or continue on with her “duty” despite all warning signs, thereby sealing her own destruction. Charlotte even goes so far as to beg her directly to not go on, but Mami refuses, saying over and over again that she is, “On the clock,” signifying how being a magical girl essentially took over her entire life after her parents’ death, and how full she threw herself into it to shield herself from her own loneliness.

And from then on, her fate is sealed.

While descending the long staircase, the father of Mami’s occasionally mentioned former crush Ryu Hagane shows up to chastise her for throwing her life way in making her contract, and then Mami’s actual love Charlotte shows up on the big TV to remind Mami of what she was now throwing away, and curiously, when she brings out the doll version of herself, it’s not to remind her of how Charlotte kill Mami (though the worms coming out of the doll’s mouth shows that Mami still hasn’t forgotten), but to remind her of how Mami had tried to kill Charlotte upon their first meeting, as her own guilt is more powerful than even the trauma from having her own head bitten off. Annabelle Lee emerges again, and in the process, the staircase is destroyed. Mami’s choice was made. There is going back.

Sure enough, when she enters the classroom, the marionette corpse of Kazuko Saotome (a reference to how she was killed and eaten in the Oriko timeline, in addition to just being very creepy) spells out to Mami’s face what an idiot she was for trusting Kyubey, how many lives she had ruined by doing so, finishing with Homura showing up to basically say, “I told you so.”

Annabelle Lee attacks again, and Mami is sent into a montage of battles she has fought since their disastrous adventure begun, but with each of her assailants being replaced at the last second by one of her friends, showing that even after forgiveness, she still feels like she’s their murderer, as well as driving home the point that in all of her battles to defend herself over the course of this story, she was still just fighting and hurting other magical girls, and regardless of which side they were on, they were all still victims of the same scam.

Annabelle Lee is finally defeated and put down, but there is no victory, only horror at what Mami had done. She flees, but finally finds herself in the Hell she always felt that she deserved, pursued by the zombified corpses of all the monsters that had defeated her, from Lily, who had stolen her mind and made her commit atrocities, to the wild girls, whom she had slaughtered, to the Worm, whom had killed her in her arrogance.

She escapes, but that just leads her back to the bakery, signifying that no matter what, the second she had made that contract she had been doomed. It didn’t matter if she was leaping through the sky in an extravagant outfit, effortlessly defeating monsters with her magic, or if she was sinking into her own despair with a darkening soul gem, it was all the same. She was just food for the Incubators, to be chewed up and discarded, thrown into the mouth of the Worm and run down by the same vehicle that had killed her parents.

She then wakes up in the hospital, reliving a twisted version of when she had been recovered from the car wreck that had taken her parents, taking her back to her first sin that still haunted her: only saving her own life with her wish and letting her parents die. And thus, she is turned into the same monster she had spent the last few years fighting: the witch, Candeloro.

The whole bit in the hospital was a twisted version of what it must have been like for the original Mami to wake up in the hospital and learn that her parents had died. No doubt Mephisto’s dream doctors would have continued to further twist the knife had Ophelia and Sayaka not violently intervened (which gives us a rare case of blood instead of mist). And Candeloro is brought into the party, and with a Cyberpunk reference no less!

Charlotte’s dream comes last, and in my opinion, is the most multi-layered. The bulk is focused on how bitter she is at having her perfect life with her wife stolen away and how many people she resents for it, her own feelings of helplessness at being unable to prevent it, and also it addresses her own guilt at having killed Mami to begin with and how much she fears the return of the Worm that did it, but also she seems to be the only person that has some subconscious awareness of how Homura is timelooping them over and over again, forcing them to relive the same torturous sequence of events (probably has something to do with Homura being the one who killed her after she ate Mami).

In the first loop, Mami is taken by Annabelle Lee, and Charlotte is totally helpless to stop her. This is pretty obvious: Annabelle Lee has been a thorn in her side since day one. It was because of her that they were ambushed in Cloudbreak and forced into their horrible adventure. And more directly, it was because of Annabelle Lee that they fell into the Etherdale to begin with, leading to them all being enslaved by Lily and Charlotte and Mami being forced to commit atrocities.

Also, it’s hinted that the city that Charlotte is forced to march through is the same one Kyoko had been following her father through in her dream, indicating that their minds are already crossing over.

The second is a little more complicated. Yes, Charlotte and Kyoko are on better terms. Yes, they’re getting along. Yes, Kyoko apologized and they bonded. But if it weren’t for Kyoko, then none of this would have ever happened. If it weren’t for Kyoko, Charlotte wouldn’t have lost her home, wouldn’t have been targeted by Reibey, and wouldn’t have to suffer being pursued by dockengauts and valks, two creatures that she has an acute phobia of. So there is still some hard feelings there.

The third is when Charlotte is forced to confront something about herself, that no matter how many people she blames, her own actions still played a part as well. Now she is the one riding the Worm. She is the one who cost Mami her life. And in the hospital, it was her misguided wish that cost her her mother, whether she knows it or not, as well as why she became a witch in the first place.

Couple notes about the hospital: first, the cheese slices do signify how Charlotte threw her wish away for something as stupid as cheesecake, but are also another reference to the original Restless, in which a man carrying cheese slices shows up in each of the characters dreams, just to be weird.

Also, Charlotte’s magical girl outfit was in part inspired by a 4koma MamiLotte doujin from before The Rebellion Story, in which Charlotte becomes human again and crushes on Mami big time. And her outfit consists of a double-breasted coat and skirt. Also there were parts taken from the character notes from Walpurgisnacht, in which one of her familiars is an early draft of Human!Charlotte, before Nagisa had been designed, and she’s depicted holding a staff topped with the wrapped candy charm.

The final loop is where Charlotte fully becomes Nozomi (a name I think I just took from another fanfic that gave her that name) and finally defeats the Worm, this time ridden by Homura Akemi. After all, Homura Akemi is the one resetting things over and over again, forcing Charlotte to relive the same terrible events over and over. And as for that rooftop meeting…well, explaining that would be telling, so infer what you will.

The next chapter is mainly spent playing catch-up, gathering all the characters together and pushing toward the final battle with Mephisto. Here, things get less symbolic and more character based, so there’s a lot less to explain. Ophelia’s path of destruction through Sayaka’s carnival and Mami’s school are basically in line with lucid dreaming, in that once you know that you’re in a dream, everything just feels so much less solid, leading Ophelia to take down the ravaged versions of Brooklyn and Annabelle Lee with ease. Also, that scene with her talking to the dying Lily was an American Gods reference, which featured a similar scene.

So let’s talk about the big thing with this chapter. Let’s talk about Sayaka.

Originally the plan was to go straight from Charlotte’s dream to the fight with Mephisto, but then I realized what a bad idea that is. I mean, Sayaka was back! It’s something that’s been hinted and talked about all through the story’s run, but now it’s actually a thing. The original Sayaka Miki, the one that fell into despair and became a witch, is now back, and without having merged with Oktavia and gaining her memories. She’s thrown literally into the middle of things, during the gang’s weirdest adventure yet. And, it should be noted, her most recent memory is literally sitting with Kyoko in the train station, right before she became Oktavia. That is one hell of a bad day.

Obviously she reacts poorly, and who can blame her? And give her credit, she pulled herself together pretty quickly. However, she did pick up very quickly on Kyoko’s feelings for her. And why shouldn’t we just start saying it? It’s obvious to everyone! But obviously, as short as it was, Sayaka’s brief return will have major consequences that will play out over time.

Anyway, obviously everyone else has their own identity crisis. Mami turns fully into Candeloro, which provides a measure of relief from her own shame, while Kyoko as Ophelia is the rare witch that remembers everything while still sticking fully to her witch identity.

As for Charlotte, her case as Charzomi is easily the weirdest, with her constantly shifting back and forth between Charlotte and Nozomi, and her own memories fading in and out, forcing her to work extra hard to stay focused. It’s been suggested that this might serve as a metaphor for gender fluidity, and while this wasn’t the intention and thus I can’t speak to its accuracy, I can see and support the applicability. Still haven’t worked out what the long-term consequences of that will be, but I do want this to play into her future character development.

The walk up the tongue was mainly me realizing that the fighting was going to start soon, and Sayaka was going away right after, so I had one last opportunity to make the most out of her presence and I was determined not to waste it.

So we ticked off the boxes on everything we ought to address with her. She cleared the air with Charlotte over having to watch Mami get eaten. She finally got to hug Mami (well, Candeloro anyway) and got everything she wanted to say off her chest. And with Ophelia, she naturally wants to know more about exactly what Kyoko has been getting up to with Sayaka’s other self.

Sayaka again confronts Ophelia about how she feels about her (or, well, Oktavia, or maybe Sayaka? It’s weird), and naturally she is kind of freaked out by it. Remember, from her point of view, her relationship with Kyoko had been nothing but antagonistic. Whether Kyoko had been attacking her or trying to help her, Sayaka always resented her presence, so now suddenly being dropped into the middle of things and learning that her one-time rival now has a thing for her? Well, can you blame her for getting a little freaked out?

Also, it’s worth pointing out how the script had been flipped with everyone’s new identities. Now it’s Ophelia and Candeloro with the witch names, while Sayaka still thinks of them using their old names, causing them discomfort, but she has no problem calling Charzomi whatever because they had just met and she didn’t care.

And then we get to the fight, and of course it has to be a pro wrestling match. I’d also like to point out that there were a lot of songs I wanted to use for this chapter but was unsure of where to put each one. Originally the climb up the tongue was just going to have generic thrash metal playing the background, while Mephisto’s entrance theme was going to start with Mr. Sandman, only to transition into Bad Reputation (which is Ronda Rousey’s RL entrance theme), but then I was like, I should put Welcome to My Nightmare in there somewhere. And then I remembered that Cult of Personality is a thing, which is also CM Punk’s entrance theme, so I finally decided to move the first three songs to the tongue scene and have CoP as Mephisto’s entrance music.

And finally, we come to the last chapter. The magical girl fight scene was another one of those checklist things I wanted to have so long as I had Sayaka around. That way, I could actually build some real KyoSaya moments to make the KyoTavi angst all the more potent, as Sayaka realizes that she is developing an attraction to Kyoko as they fight side-by-side, letting me recreate that magical little moment from The Rebellion Story in which Sayaka basically confesses in the middle of the battle, complete with Charlotte ruining the mood.

I’ll admit, I kind of skimped out on Mephisto’s witch design and didn’t give it as much thought as I could have, but that part was never important. The important part was to recreate a classic witch fight and let the girls interact during it. I am proud of the Charlotte’s Web joke though.

What happens next is to establish that it doesn’t matter how hard they fight or how smart they are, they simply cannot beat Mephisto now. She’s taken complete control, enough to flick them through their various personas on a whim turning them into Puella Magi, then to human!witches (basically the Walpurgis Nights girls), then to full witches, then to the classic squad from the bulk of the story (bringing Oktavia back briefly), then to vanilla humans. It doesn’t matter. Mephisto has them, and can do whatever she wants.

From there, she separates them again and subjects them to a condensed version of their previous dreams, with the same themes but different imagery. Kyoko is subjected to a sermon about her poor responses to loss from her dead father, as he really lays into her over how much damage she had done. And I gotta admit, even I felt pretty bad just for writing that scene. Because I know torturing Kyoko is kind of this story’s MO, but damn.

Sayaka is a little more nuanced. Yes, the identity issues from her own dream are brought up, but it’s more focused on a new issues: mainly, now that Sayaka is back, she not only has to grapple with all the weirdness that she’s been thrust into, but also with essentially having been replaced. We see the vision of her friends getting along happily without her, the friends she had pushed away and alienated having moved on without her, Madoka basically having replaced her entirely with Homura. Of course this is not reflected in reality, as by this point in the world of the living they probably haven’t even found Sayaka’s body yet due to the time difference, but it is definitely that Sayaka would easily believe.

The next part is basically the whole reason for bringing Sayaka back in this manner. Mephisto then shows Sayaka a real memory that of Oktavia spending time with Kyoko, Mami, and Charlotte and being loved and accepted by them.

Sayaka’s character arc in the original series was driven by her letting her insecurities cause her to overcompensate and destroy herself, and Oktavia has largely been characterized as what Sayaka would be like if she didn’t have those insecurities. Sure, she’s had the shadow of the original Sayaka hanging over her, but for the most part this hasn’t seemed to bother her much, aside from getting annoyed at being called the wrong name, but it’s been taken for granted that sooner or later being thought of as Sayaka instead of herself by Kyoko was going to come to a head.

But here we have one of those happy unplanned gold veins, something I hadn’t planned on doing but am thrilled gets to happen now: we have Sayaka being forced to come to terms with living in Oktavia’s shadow.

Yes, they’re the same person. Yes, Oktavia is just Sayaka with her memory wiped and many of her self-destructive issues cleared away. But as WN demonstrated, it’s not as clear cut as that, and there is still some degree of separation between the two. And the infamously self-loathing Sayaka would most certainly be messed up by being confronted by a version of herself that people like and enjoy being around, that doesn’t feel the need to prove anything. And this is coming right off the heels of her realizing that she might have feelings for Kyoko after all (even if that is in part because of her empathetic connection to Oktavia), only to have it thrown in her face that it was Oktavia that Kyoko really loved, when she herself never did anything other than push Kyoko away. Granted, she had good reason for doing so, given that the first thing Kyoko did was try to kill her, but the point stands.

The Kyoko/Oktavia dynamic has always been messy due to Sayaka’s constant presence, but I kind of feel that that was unfair to Sayaka herself, as she deserves better than just being a memory, and I wanted her to have an actual voice in the whole deal, to be able to express her own feelings about it, even if it does complicate an already incredibly complicated situation.

Anyway, the next bit is pretty self-explanatory, with Mephisto further twisting the knife by replaying Sayaka’s last conversation with Madoka and really driving home what a wreck Sayaka had been at the time. Remember, from Sayaka’s point of view, that whole moment was only a few hours ago, at most!

Mami’s was very interesting, because the whole trial bit is self-explanatory, but it’s actually a reference to the bizarre trial that made up the final episode of the classic mindscrew TV show The Prisoner, which featured a jury wearing masks, the plaintiff sitting on an ornate chair on a raised platform, witnesses being pulled out of steam-filled holes, and an extended singalong of Dry Bones. Granted, I mainly knew about it because Reboot, one of my favorite shows, also referenced it in a dream episode of their own, but I liked that episode, and wanted to rip it off.

For the witnesses, we first get the expected faces from the show itself, but we also get a few new ones. Brooke Alexander was already named once before when Mami was reflecting on the various girls she had trained, Janice Goldberg was made up specifically for this scene, but we also get Michiru Kazusa, from the really weird spin-off manga Kazumi Magica, who was established as having a past with Mami. Kazumi Magica had its problems, but I did like a lot of the characters (i.e. The Twins), so this seemed like a good time to bring in another one.

Charlotte’s dream is the most straightforward, as it’s basically just her first dream condensed into a claw machine. What I wanted to put focus on was that Charlotte is the one character that knows who Mephisto is, as her role as the team scholar who does the most reading, she would actually have heard of the Ideal Witches, and thus would really understand just how much trouble they were all in.

And at the end of each segment, Mephisto gives each of them the same offer: submit willingly and be given a pleasant fantasy while Mephisto digests their souls, or continue to resist and get digested anyway, only in eternal torment. And her offer would give them each what they wanted the most. Kyoko wants her loved ones back, Sayaka wants to be loved and appreciated, Mami wants forgiveness, and Charlotte just wants to go home. And in light of what they were facing, can any of them be blamed for wanting to take Mephisto up on her offer?

Enter Jerky.

Jerky was a ton of fun to write for, and judging by the overwhelming positive response to his segments, bringing in the baby space raptor was a good idea. Like I’ve said before, his bits were one big love letter to Raptor Red, a novel by paleontologist Robert Bakker which tells of the life and times of a female Utahraptor from the Utahraptor’s point of view. And the nice thing about Jerky is that he’s smart enough to know the does and don’ts, but simple enough to be uncomplicated. He’s an animal. An exceptionally smart animal, but still an animal. He knows that he loves Kyoko and is loyal to her, he’s been made to understand that he can’t let Charlotte, Mami, and Oktavia see him, and he knows that Kyoko’s skin is softer than his and he needs to be careful, but beyond that he couldn’t care less of their various issues. It’s refreshingly simple.

As such, when confronted with a complete inexplicable threat such as Mephisto, something well beyond his ability to comprehend, he’s worried, he’s scared, he doesn’t know what to do, so he defaults to his predatory instincts.

When in doubt, start biting.

And it does the trick, because something that needs to be said is that while the Ideal Witches are powerful, they’re not omnipotent. Mephisto needed to lure the girls in and submerge them fully in her dream in order to control them the way that she did, but in the real world, she was vulnerable once she had manifested fully, allowing Kyoko to break free long enough to fire the final shot.

In the end, everyone escapes, but not unscathed. Kyoko especially had been scarred even further, in part from the dream of her father, but also from having to watch Sayaka basically die again, leading to her reaching what very well might be her breaking point. Mami’s slipping deeper into depression, having been forced to once again confront all the damage she unwittingly did as a magical girl, Charlotte is fully fed up with everything that had happened to them. And Oktavia? Well, now that it’s been shown that Sayaka Miki can and has come back, suddenly her own identity issues are going to become worse. She’s really going to have to grapple with Sayaka being an actual person with a legitimate claim to her body, especially since when Sayaka came back, she effectively traded places with Oktavia instead of merging with her. That’s gotta be scary.

At the very least, Kyoko did not reject Oktavia. In some way, she does understand that Oktavia is her own person, and she’s coming to respect that. But there are some deep wounds having to do with Oktavia’s creation, and they’re both going to have to come to terms with a great many things in the days to come.

And at the very end, it’s shown that Mephisto is weakened but still alive, and she’s pissed! We also learn that one of the girls did accept Mephisto’s offer before she was defeated, so that’s definitely going to come up later. And we meet the rest of the Ideal Witches. Obviously there is more to come with them, so I will say nothing further.

Anyway, I guess that’s it. Feel free to message me if you want anything explained further, or just make your own interpretations. Either is fine.

[renaroo]

Super Brothers (1/12)

Disclaimer: Superman and associated characters are the creative property of DC Comics. Warnings: Child Abuse, Gender Dysphoria, PTSD and Anxiety, Character Death Rating: T Synopsis: Jon Kent knew he pretty much had the perfect family life, but something still felt wrong with himself. At the height of feeling like an alien in his own skin, however, his world got turned upside down when his parents took in a troubled child who embodied everything he felt he lacked. However, becoming a brother ended up being the smallest of the trials brought by adopting Christopher Kent. And being best friends with Damian Wayne has not exactly helped keep a neutral perspective on the matter.

A/N: I have made no secret over the last few years just how disappointed i’ve been by the treatment and reintroduction of Chris Kent, aka Lor-Zod, in DC Comics. This little guy is one of my favorite comic book characters in existence, and it feels so dirty to see what has become of him. For a while, I’ve wanted to do a story that really tried to rectify the Rebirth version of Chris and the continuity at large with the core of the character I love, so this story is my attempt at that. I can only hope that I bridge that gap gracefully.

On the other end, I didn’t want to erase Damian or Jon and all the positives I have seen with their relationship and additions to the DCU at large. For their parts in this story, I want to focus on being in the middle school age range, all the confusion that entails, and open a dialogue about issues of gender and acceptance. 

Obviously, these are a lot of heavy topics, and I am certain that despite my intentions, there can and will be things I mess up. My hope is, when that happens, you all can keep an open dialogue with me on the subjects. I want to learn and better myself and my portrayal of the issues. 

That being said, please pay attention to the warnings throughout this fic. I will touch on dark subjects, and I don’t want anyone to read and feel unprepared for the subjects broached, which is part of the reason I chose to make an opening scene that is rather dark and disturbing on some levels. It won’t be ALL dark and uncomfortable, but I want to make this plea now rather than later. 

I hope the story is still worth your read <3 Thank you for your time!

Chapter One: The Cost of Friends

Jon hates this.

At the absolute worst of times, his tiny body reminds him of just how unreliable it is. He can’t count on it, it’s not consistent — it’s not a Superman body no matter how hard he tries to fit it in as one. His limbs are gangly, his bones poke through pale kin, and his messy black hair curls untamed out from around his ears. It’s not good it doesn’t do what he needs it to do.

And at that moment, Jon’s terrified that it’s about to get himself and his best friend killed.

Ordinarily, being half-Kryptonian, Jon would easily burst through chains and bindings without a second thought. And he’s still strong, he tore through the ripe around his waist like it was taffy, but the chains keeping his legs and neck locked to the floor aren’t budging. And Jon’s getting progressively tired.

There’s something strange about this macabre carnival where he and Damian take the center ring. Of course, there is, because it’s Professor Pyg and he’s the stuff of nightmares. But beyond even that, the spotlights on them show with a heavy red glow that is making Jon sluggish and weak.

So weak that he’s less than a circus ring away from Damian and he still can’t get to him.

“Come now, come now, wait your turn,” the grotesque villain squeals in delight toward Jon. “Little Bat has been scheduled for this appointment for such a long time! You must be patient, my little bird. So patient. Everyone has their time with the professor.”

“Superboy!” Damian snarls from where he is tied up, flat and without his utility belt. He’s laying on a gurney that looks far from sanitary and, if Jon didn’t know better, it might even look like Damian is actually concerned. “Focus! Red sunlight radiation shouldn’t dull your brains as much as it does your strength!”

Blinking, Jon looks up to the spotlights again and can see, with what vague telescopic ability he still has, that there is something unusual about the spectrum of light coming from them. “Is that what this is?” he asks, voice small but filled with relief all the same.

“Oh, my, I cannot, must not, pass an opportunity to educate my subjects, inform them of their peril,” Professor Pyg pantomimes his way from the circus ring with Damian toward the center stage with Jon.

Immediately, Jon feels his body stiffen on instinct. He looks warily at the flabby, disgusting pig mask as the rest of the pudgy and unkempt professor makes his way toward Jon. He knows he should be focusing on getting free, but it’s a difficult thing to do when he’s being approached by unmitigated evil and brutality.

He isn’t sure how Damian gets his suit on every night if this is what Gotham patrols are really like.

“It is your body,” Pyg snorts and chortles.

A cold splash washes over Jon. “My body?” he repeats with wide eyes.

“Get away from him, Pyg!” Damian roars, his gurney shaking and rocking with struggle.

“It isn’t right, doesn’t fit on your bones,” Pyg bemoans, jerking out his hip and slithering his own arms around his chest and waist. He sways back and forth on his feet with a sashay of his hips. “It misses the shape of your spirit, the delicate frame of your face. And it’ll only get worse with age.”

Despite himself, Jon feels his struggle slow to a complete stop. His eyes widen as he looks at Pyg. There is a chill that travels from the base of his spine up, standing all his hair on end.

Deep inside of Jon’s chest, muscles tighten and his heart thunders. He feels a shiver move from his core. No oh no oh no oh no. HIs guts churn, his jaw trembles.

“Oh, you feel it, don’t you, that deep deep down,” Pyg continues, approaching. “You’re in the last years of it being passable, of being acceptable. Before your bones grind and the sinews snap into shapes thick and unbecoming of your gentle nature. I see what you are, in that deep deep down, because I am an artist who shapes and molds my subjects out from their souls.”

“You’re a monster,” Jon whispers, his voice giving up halfway through.

Pyg’s eyes shine with something dangerous through the outsides of his mask. He reaches forward and cups Jon’s cheek with his itchy gloved hand. Jon doesn’t even know when he got so close; when he started towering so tall over Jon.

“You’ll be one of my finest Dollotrons,” Pyg promises, rubbing his thumb just under Jon’s eye. “But your clay’s too strong, have to soften you up, get you nice and fleshy, then I’ll shave and I’ll cut and I’ll shape you right up.”

It doesn’t come off as a promise, so much as it does a threat, one that terrifies and unsettles Jon deep down within himself.

Jon’s mind draws a blank, his eyes wide and unfocused and he attempts, desperately, to come up with some intelligent response. But he can’t, not while a fear racks his every nerve and turns his muscles to stone.

It takes Jon completely and utterly by surprise when a familiar whoosh in the air flies overhead before glass crashes and electricity sparks. He catches a glance at the familiar shape of a Batarang lodged into the spotlight directly overhead.

He’s instantly overcome with relief.

Pyg releases his cheek and steps back wildly, looking around. “No! Not now! My art is not ready!” he cries out before letting loose some piglike squeals and sobs.

Looking toward Damian, Jon expects to see his friend released but is surprised to see Damian still trapped. He squints, uncertain of what’s happening when a second then third Batarang plunge into the remaining red sun spotlights.

“Batman?” Jon wonders out loud.

“Ugh,” Damian lets out in frustration before struggling with even more force against his bindings. “Overdramatic, sanctimonious, can’t believe—“

Dollotrons are racing onto the tent floor while Professor Pyg whines and bemoans his ultimate fate, but as the lights extinguish one by one, the shadows take on a new form.

She moves like a dancer, each step and hit against the army of zombified victims perfectly paced and timed. She is all in black, save for her golden accents and bat, and she spares not a single motion. A kick becomes a launch for a leap becomes a smack becomes a twirl becomes a fist to the face of the blubbering Professor. And each and every movement grows in its momentum.

Jon has never seen anything like this outside of super speed, and he certainly hasn’t seen it using the shapes and silhouettes of the shadows like a comforting show curtain. He has so many questions and so many concerns that he forgets himself and getting free. Even if he could, with his body still unresponsively slow and dulled from the radiation.

Damian, at the least, is in motion, finally getting one of his hands free and using the points of his gauntlet to slice through the leather of the other bindings. He is muttering to himself, annoyed and embarrassed based on the flush in his cheeks. It’s not a rare sight but it is unusual for Jon to see Damian this way around one of his multitudes of siblings.

The shadowy bat launches into a final attack, knocking out the last of the Dollotrons before pouncing on the escaping Professor Pyg like a hungry lioness.

With her full weight on Pyg, the Bat narrows her eyes and for the first time can really be seen by Jon as she reaches over and yanks Pyg’s disgusting mask off of his face. Her lips curl in displeasure, but it doesn’t take away from her fair features or the delicate, smooth control she has over her body.

“Wow,” Jon hears himself say as Damian reaches his side and begins pulling out a small blowtorch for the chains. “Is that your sister?”

���SHH!” Damian hisses.

Jon strains to listen to whatever is being said between the Bat and Pyg, but it gets him nowhere, only words at a time coming in clearly as his powers remain in flux. Regardless, Pyg is squirming and blubbering too much for it to matter anyway.

“Took her damn time,” Damian snarls, letting Jon lean on him as he glares toward his sister.

“She saved our lives,” Jon reminds him.

Damian’s nose curls. “Tt, debatable.”

Cassandra apparently finishes whatever minor conversation she was having with Pyg and flips him over, handcuffing him swiftly. She’s powerful and strong without losing her leanness or size, it mesmerizes Jon in a way. By the time she looks up at them, her expression has completely changed.

“You okay?” she asks them both.

“No thanks to you,” Damian says at the same time Jon gets out, “All thanks to you!”

Something approximating a smile crosses her face before she gets to her feet and reaches up to her ear. “Oracle. Done.”

Looking at Cassandra, Jon feels like he’s found yet another new hero. “Whoa, your sister’s awesome. And cool. And so in control,” Jon tells Damian, his strength returning. “You’ve got so many siblings, can I have your sister?”

“Father would be displeased, otherwise I’d say yes,” Damian huffs in that way that Jon cannot tell, for the life of him, if it’s sarcasm or not.

***

Damian watches as his friend flies off.

It took the better part of an hour as well as a stop at Big Belly Burger for Jon to feel up to the task, but the half-Kryptonian flies home after departing from them and Damian watches him go.

Cassandra, as it turns out, is also there. She leans back against her motorcycle — a sleek but redundant design, like any of the numerous other bat-themed motorcycles or vehicles any of their extended family has access to — and watches Damian more than Jon.

They haven’t had much time with just the two of them. Their paths rarely intersect. And Damian is pretty sure he prefers it that way.

His cheeks are still on fire from the embarrassment of being rescued by her.

“I would have gotten out,” he informs her, crossing his arms. “Pyg was distracted and far away from me. I was working on my restraints.”

She tilts her head at him, a frown tight on her face. “Distracted you, too,” she points out.

And Damian knows she’s right about that, he was distracted. Just the look on his friend’s face, the growing horror and dread. Jon isn’t used to the types of villains that Gotham can throw at people, the psychological toll it takes. Damian is, or at least he likes to think he is, but Jon still can be scared and surprised.

But what looks crossed Jon’s face at that moment were unexpected even to Damian. He had never seen anything like it. Jon had been soaking up every word and phrase like it had been ripped straight from his dreams.

It was enough that it frightened Damian for his friend, and he didn’t even know why.

Over the course of an hour and a Big Belly Burger, Jon had refrained from mentioning a single thing about it.

That, too, was very unlike Jon.

Such things could be dwelled on at another time, though. Damian had the pressing matter at hand of his own reckoning. And his so-called sister.

Without looking up to meet Cassandra’s gaze, Damian kicked at the ground. “What are you going to tell father about tonight?” he asks.

“Truth,” Cass answers unhelpfully.

Gritting his teeth, Damian looks back at her, eyes narrowed and angry. “That’s not fair, you know,” he growls at her. “You never come around, never work with any of the rest of us, and then you pop in and judge us from on high. No wonder father speaks highly of you. You’re just like him.”

Her brows come together in a way that wrinkles her forehead. It’s hard to read her expression, even with her modified mask and hood. “I’m not,” she says. Her words sound final, but she apparently thinks better of them and shifts her weight from one foot to the other. “Judging you. I’m not.”

Damian looks her over. She hasn’t moved from her bike but her arms have dropped to her side. She is looking at him rather intently and it makes him want to squirm in his combat boots.

“Tt, sure you’re not,” he finally snaps back. “You’ll still tell father that I was captured by Professor Pyg.”

“Yes,” she said too casually.

“And that I let Superboy get captured, too,” Damian glowered more at that one, his eyes rest on the asphalt beneath his feet. He kicked again.

Cassandra paused slightly longer with that one.

When her hand snaked its way onto his shoulder, Damian flinched bodily. He slapped her hand away and twisted around to get away on instinct. He hated that — no one should be able to sneak up on him. He was trained by League of Assassins, he had been prepared since before he could speak to be on guard.

But Cassandra had, too.

She looked at him passively. “Not your fault, happens,” she said, in reference to Pyg.

“That’s not what father will think,” Damian snaps.

“I’ll tell him,” she promises.

Damian stares at her for a moment, sizing her up and considering all the ways he could make her more respectful to him. But it fizzles out quickly. He knows, as much as he resists the thought, that he isn’t upset with her.

He’s upset with himself.

“In the League, they trained us that there is a cost to every relationship formed,” Damian informs Cassandra like she doesn’t intuitively know from her own history. “Partnerships, even necessary ones, would cost you heavily. They could be deadly. And more relationships than strictly necessary should be avoided. All this family and friendship that is just around me all the time now. I don’t want to pay the cost for them.” He looks to the skies where Jon once flew. “I don’t want my friend to pay for them either. It’s not worth it.”

Cassandra stays quiet, but she places her hand on Damian’s shoulder again. He doesn’t attempt to knock it off this time.

“Sometimes it is,” she tells him.

But Damian isn’t so sure. Especially not hearing it from her. Cassandra does not work with others to the same degree as the rest of their family. She doesn’t go to school. She doesn’t join teams outside of father’s pet projects. She doesn’t operate in a daily partnership like Damian has with Grayson or father.

She seems to be living by those lonesome standards that the League taught Damian. And all anyone can do is praise her.

What sort of lesson is Damian supposed to learn from that?

***

Jekuul feels oppressively hot outside of the crystal palace.

Lor has watched his parents stand, looming in the skies, over the land’s natives as they constructed the palace for them. He watched as their eyes glowed threateningly each time the native population faltered, and he remembered how easily their bones cracked and snapped when corrected by the general and his lieutenant. It was equal parts thrilling and terrifying to witness.

Inside the palace, things are smooth and temperature regulated. The pantries are stocked with foods far greater than anything Lor had tasted within the Phantom Zone, but still foreign and sometimes unexpected.

If he questions what was on his plate, he is quickly reprimanded.

So he doesn’t ask.

It should be easy, if not simple, to follow the rules at this point. Stay in the palace, eat when told without questions, listen to his lessons from the Sunstones without fault.

He is the Last Son of Krypton, and he is supposed to inherit everything the universe owed them for their lost greatest civilization. All he has to do is stay in place, not ask questions, don’t be, don’t move.

But he was not born on Krypton, nor was he born on Jekuul — New Krypton, by his father’s declaration — he was born in the perilous depths of the Phantom Zone. A prison.

Inside of the Phantom Zone, there was no movement, there were no questions, there was not being or doing or screaming or aging — that had been the only thing he’d ever existed and it was torturous.

Outside of the Phantom Zone, he thought, things are supposed to be different. He is supposed to move and change and grow, he thinks.

So even though there is every reason not to leave the palace, Lor-Zod leaves in the oppressive heat and feels the sun against his Kryptonian skin as he flies under the two yellow suns.

As he moves across the lands, the violet skinned natives of Jekuul fall to their knees and avert their eyes. They whisper and whimper in a tongue completely foreign to Lor-Zod and it feels, well. It feels good.

Lor-Zod knows that they react this way to his parents, but to have even adults of the alien race fall in reverence to him, he feels more powerful. He feels like the Last Son of Krypton that his father insists he is.

He wonders, vaguely, if it is something his father would like to see.

Deep down, Lor hopes so. Because it is easy for Lor to imagine what his father would think or say when he doesn’t like something Lor has done. He has no concept of what would happen when he makes his father pleased.

He is nearly at the end of the primitive village when Lor’s eyes fall on an unusual sight.

One of the Jekuul natives, a young female no older than Lor and having not yet earned her yellow stripes, stands and stares up at Lor. She doesn’t drop to her knees or avert her eyes.

For a few seconds, Lor continues flying, arching his head back to watch for the girl to finally do as she is supposed to but she never does.

Aggravated and surprised, Lor turns in his flight path and descends, landing promptly in front of the girl.

“Why aren’t you kneeling?” he asks before his feet are even secure.

She stares at him, head tilting. Her black eyes are large and reflective, Lor can see himself in them.

He huffs at her, crossing his arms like he has seen his father do so many times before. “Don’t you speak Kryptonian?” he sneers.

After a quiet moment, she scratches at her head and looks around. That seems to answer Lor’s question for him.

“You’re supposed to kneel,” he groans. “Look, like this,” he says, bowing down to one knee and lowering his head. He’s seen so many others do it before.

Then he hears laughter.

Lor looks up and sees the girl covering her mouth as she giggles before she gets down on both her knees and dips her body down in a silly, teetering display. A mockery. Then she gets back to her feet.

“No!” Lor snaps, getting back to his own feet and grabbing her shoulders.

At first, she stiffens, surprised, and looks at him wildly. Her hands grip onto his wrists and she seems afraid.

“Like this,” Lor repeats, then pushes down on her. He dips with her, down to the ground on their knees. But when they both lower their heads, they immediately smack foreheads.

It feels like nothing to Lor, but for the girl, she jolts back and begins rubbing at her skull.

Instinctively, just like he follows his parents’ motions, Lor reaches up and rubs at his own head. They stare at each other as they both sit there on their knees, rubbing their heads.

Then, despite himself, Lor giggles.

The girl giggles.

They both giggle.

Once the giggles subside, they are both sitting on their knees in the dirt and staring at each other expectantly. They don’t speak the same language. They aren’t remotely the same and, yet, Lor has never felt more of a need to communicate with someone in his life.

He points at his chest, at the house emblem emblazoned on his armor. “Zod,” he tells her. “Zod,” he repeats.

For a moment, the girl is quiet, absorbing his words, then she points at her chest and the purple skin. “Jekuul,” she says.

“No, not what you are,” he mutters, catching on quickly. “I’m not…” He is a Zod, though. Maybe more than he is a Kryptonian, if only in his own mind. He sucks in a breath and tries again. He points at his face. “Lor,” he tells her.

Understanding fills her expression and she points at her own face. “Ti’ahl.”

And, maybe for the first time, Lor feels a wide smile cross his face.

From that moment on, their afternoon is filled with delight.

Ti’ahl points at every structure, every creature, every plant with words and phrases that will not stop saying until Lor repeats. Repeatedly, Lor picks Ti’ahl up easily, flies her from location to location, lifts up every boulder and animal they come across as she claps in delight.

It’s thrilling — and Lor laughs more than he has ever laughed before in his life.

By the time the second sun begins to set, a chill quickly crosses the lands, and Lor can see Ti’ahl gain a shiver. It makes Lor feel bad to see Ti’ahl uncomfortable in any way.

“Hold on,” he calls to her at one point, slowing her run through the grass. He reaches up and carefully unclips his cape from his armor. Grinning, he floats toward Ti’ahl and drapes her with the heavy fabric.

After Lor ties the cape closed over her neck, Ti’ahl looks down and touches the knot. A funny look crosses her face and she looks at Lor.

Ti’ahl leaps onto a nearby rock, standing tall and crossing her arms. “ZOD!” she declares herself.

Realizing what is happening, Lor giggles and drops obediently to his knees. “I kneel!” he laughs.

At first, Ti’ahl joins his laughter, but then she becomes strangely quiet.

Confused, Lor looks up at her. “Ti’ahl?” he asks before realizing that a shadow has crossed over them both.

Heart sinking, Lor twists around and sees his father, arms crossed, standing over them both. He looks displeased.

“Father,” Lor gets out, voice thin.

“Is this how I find the Last Son of Krypton? Kneeling before his lessers?” the general snarls. He drops his hands to his sides as Lor begins to stand up and easily kicks Lor back down. “If you lower yourself in the dirt for a mongrel child, you will stay there for your leader, do you understand?”

Breath catching in his throat, Lor nods. “Y-yes, Sir.”

“To the palace. Immediately,” General Zod orders, his gaze carrying over to Ti’ahl. “There will be a price to pay for this, Lor-Zod. Let us see if you are grown enough to pay it.”

Lor cannot bring himself to look at Ti’ahl as he leaps to his feet and takes off in the air. His blood is rushing to his ears, tears building up in his eyes even before he reaches his top speeds of flight.

It isn’t until he was home that he realized he had left his cape.

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Baby, You’re a Firework (baon)

Summary: Every year the city of Ebott has a 4th of July festival and Edge is taking Stretch. Please save him.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Established Relationship, Domestic, Fluff, Edge Is A Good Husband

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series. 

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Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

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Every year since Monsters came to the surface, and surely many years before that, Ebott city held a festival for the Fourth of July.

A carnival would set up in town and crowds of Humans and some of the braver Monsters would go to spend time with family and friends, a day filled with food, frenzy, and laughter for all.

As far as Edge was concerned, it was misery incarnate.

Nothing less than grease-coated nightmare to be endured and it was only his love for Stretch that had him sullenly standing in line at the ticket booth, ignoring the curious looks from the Humans around him.

It made him wish Jeff was further along in his recovery, because at least if he and Antwan were with them it would be a shared misery. But even out of the hospital, Jeff was still spending most of his time lying down, shuffling between the sofa and the bathroom while Blue fussed over him.

True to his nature, Blue had pointed out that he was the best option for Jeff, as he could take time off work easier than anyone else and was familiar with caring for a sick person. He’d run roughshod over any arguments to the contrary, mostly Antwan’s, and Jeff had been quickly installed into Stretch’s old room to be coddled by one rather short, very determined skeleton.

Not that it hadn’t been terribly amusing to watch Blue successfully argue the case for him being caretaker over a lawyer, it certainly was. If nothing else came from that awful night, he could find amusement in that and even Jeff seemed bemused by the various people arguing over him.

So it had been decided, mostly by Blue, that Jeff was staying with him for the time being as he recovered, and while Stretch usually chafed at his brother’s fussing, for now Jeff seemed to bask in it, along with Antwan and Stretch’s daily visits.

Ah, and there was something else curious to consider.

It was their turn at the ticket booth and Edge absently handed the Human several bills, accepting the paper wrist bands they held out in exchange. He fastened one to his own wrist before putting one on his impatiently bouncing husband. But his thoughts were still in their friends.

There was something going on between Jeff and Antwan that Edge didn’t quite have a bead on, something that left Antwan quieter than his normal self, often sleeping over at Blue’s on the sofa rather than walking the few minutes it would take to return to his own home. The sofa was at Blue’s insistence that Jeff was still too hurt for shenanigans, as he put it, and Antwan hadn’t argued. But he stayed and Edge didn’t blame him for it. Nothing could have torn him from Stretch if the situation was reversed. His unnatural quietness, though, that was a concern. Was it trauma from the incident, stress from the sudden increase in his workload, something else entirely?

Honestly, Edge needed to corner Antwan soon and get a few answers about that, but for now, he simply needed to survive the festival. The moment his wristband was secure, Stretch was off, Edge reluctantly at his heels over the muddy fairgrounds.

That alone was proof that even if they’d smuggled Jeff away from Blue’s hovering, he probably wouldn’t have enjoyed much from his constantly stuck wheelchair anyway. Edge could only resign himself to the day, sardonically grateful that at least his years in Underfell had given him excellent endurance.

From all appearances, he’d need it.

The normally enjoyable sunshine became welter of heat beating down on the tents and booths. Gratingly cheerful music poured from speakers that seemed to be everywhere, loud enough to be heard over the many chattering patrons.

Concession sellers hawking their wares shouted into the crowds about ice cold lemonade and beer, while others pitched cotton candy and corn dogs. The overwhelming smell of hot grease seemed to coat the very air, clinging stickily no matter where they walked. Each booth was covered with garish advertisements showing cobs of corn dripping with butter, ungodly desserts dipped into fry batter, and people crowded beneath striped awnings for whatever food on a stick they craved.

The pictures were awful enough but to see the other patrons stuffing such monstrosities into their mouths with relish was enough to make Edge choke back a gag.

Stretch loved all of it, of course.

He fit in entirely too well with the crowd, carrying a bag with goggle-eyed goldfish covering it slung over one shoulder, filled with stars-knew what. His tank top was scrawled with ‘I Flexed and the Sleeves Fell Off’, which prompted many a glance at his slender, skeletal arms. Unremarkable baggy shorts showed off similar legs, with bright green crocs on his feet, easily Edge’s least favorite item in his wardrobe. His own sedate jeans and a plain t-shirt garnered no looks past the fact he was a Monster, but he was well accustomed to those glances.

The real chore of the day was keeping Stretch in sight, a surprisingly difficult task considering how they both towered over most of the crowd. Keeping an eye on Stretch was second nature by now, but adding in Humans who’d consumed stars only knew much alcohol upped the challenge. Stretch’s eagerness was also an effective escape mechanism, and he could be surprisingly eely in a crowd, weaving through without so much as brushing elbows while Edge was forced to push onward with muttered apologies, a steamroller chasing after a dirt bike.

The easiest way to slow him down was to overcome his distaste long enough to fill Stretch’s arms with things to carry. Soon a bag of somewhat mangled pink and blue spun sugar hung from one hand, a corn dog dripping with honey gripped in the other.

There were downsides to that technique; the extra sugar didn’t offer any benefit to slowing him down and while Stretch knew better than to offer Edge any, he could never help himself when it came to grabbing Edge’s arm in excitement whenever he saw something of interest, and the row of sticky handprints trailing down his sleeve to his arm was evidence of that.

Stretch never had qualms about stopping to chat with Humans who knew him from Twitter. Pausing for selfies. Offering the dogs roaming the fairgrounds with their masters a biscuit hastily dug from his bag, even as they strained eagerly for the remains of his corn dog. Or perhaps it was an attempt to nibble on his finger bones, either was possible.

It was difficult to stand back and watch, but Edge did, his awareness of how close these unknown Humans were to his husband battling with the softness in his soul at Stretch’s laughter.

Eventually, they made their way down a pathway that led to a crowded row of so-called games where gaudy prizes dangled temptingly from booths. Years of experience with traps and puzzles made it obvious to Edge’s shrewd eye lights that every game was rigged and very few of those large prizes would be ending up in anyone’s arms.

Why anyone would want a sawdust-filled Spongebob knockoff was past Edge’s understanding anyway…so of course Stretch announced, “i need one.”

Unfortunately, his skill with crane machines didn’t translate well to tossing rings or throwing darts at balloons, and the sag in Stretch’s shoulders as they walked away from yet another game without a cheap prize made Edge reluctantly offer, “Would you like me to try?”

For one, he didn’t have any qualms about cheating in an unfair game.

“no,” Stretch said stubbornly. “i can win my own prize.”

That prophecy refused to come true until they reached a booth with a kiddie pool. Swirling through the flimsy plastic pond was a flock of bedraggled rubber ducks, paint flaking from their faces. A young Human who looked as greasy as the corn dogs called them over, waving a hand at the pool.

“Easy, peasy, pick a duck, win a prize, duck down and try your hand,” he warbled. Edge wondered idly how anyone could talk that fast without breathing. “Everyone’s a winner here!”

The bill Stretch held out was quickly tucked into his apron, and Stretch crouched low, studying each duck with fierce intensity. Next to him, a toddler chose a duck and crowed in delight as he was handed a toy that probably had a list of warnings longer than Edge’s arm.

“rubber ducky, which is the one, gonna pick one and have some fun...” Stretch sang under his breath. Finally, he plucked one dripping from the pond. A number scrawled on the bottom in faded sharpie had the Human digging in to a bucket and soon Stretch had a keychain of a ghastly plastic cactus dangling proudly from a belt loop.

Ah, well, at least it wasn’t a clown. Or Spongebob.

Then there were the rides. Just looking at them was chilling and Edge could only wonder when they’d last been properly maintained. Parents who would never dream of allowing their children to step a foot outside of a crosswalk were eagerly shuffled them into these death traps managed by teenagers who looked as if they’d graduated high school as recently as that day.

Still, Edge would have gone on those horrors himself, if only to keep Stretch in close reach, but simply watching the twirling cars was enough for nausea to lurch in him.

If a shortcut could send him dashing to the nearest toilet, Edge wasn’t about to press his luck with something called ‘The Zipper’.

It left him as both observer and coat rack, holding Stretch’s bag as he stood in line for each one, bouncing on his toes and chatting with the people surrounding him, taking selfies with many of them.

Watching Stretch on the ride was nearly as bad as being on it himself. Usually the sound of his delighted laughter raised Edge’s own happiness. Today, it was an effort to force himself to watch, swallowing back nausea as he stared at swinging ships and whirling platforms.

He was even forced to beg off on the bumper cars, watching as Stretch was crammed into a tiny car, his knees bent nearly to his skull. His attempt at driving brought a great deal of understanding as to why he’d chosen not to get his license.

A low-key headache was starting to throb faintly as he followed Stretch through the crowd after the last ride, a grim march onward to the end.

It wouldn’t be for much longer; the sun was going down, taking with it some of the heat, and the rides were starting to come alive with lights. Soon, the fireworks would begin and after that was the blissful quiet of home.

That headache was looming ominously. Perhaps he could persuade Stretch to step to the outskirts for a moment? If he suggested a smoke break it would be suspicious, but perhaps—

“let’s hit up the 4-h tent, babe, check out the animals?”

Or they could do that. Edge sighed inwardly and followed him mutely along to his doom.

Inside the stifling tent was the overwhelming smell of animals and their waste, along with groups of children either squalling to pet something, squalling from exhaustion, or simply squalling to add a new layer of pressure to Edge’s incipient headache.

The last one was probably untrue but it certainly felt that way.

Normally Edge was fond of children, but those ice-pick shrieks were everywhere, the crowds keeping them from catching more than a glimpse of any animals. It seemed too much for even Stretch and they exited quickly on the other side of the tent.

Edge took a deep breath of slightly cooler air as they stepped out. There was a hand washing station set up nearby and more parents grimly scrubbing their children clean of accumulated filth. The water was tepid but Edge didn’t care, stripping off his gloves to scrub past his elbows, indulging in the bliss of soap.

That Stretch willingly stood next to him and did the same meant either he was finally managing to impart some cleanliness standards into him, or possibly that Stretch simply loved him enough to do it without being asked. Edge would be happy with either.

Better was Stretch digging through his bag and pulling out a fresh pair of gloves for him. Edge pulled them on with a sigh of relief while Stretch rolled up the sweaty pair into a ball and stuffed them away.

“are you having fun?” Stretch asked. He scrabbled into the bag again and came out with a bottle of relatively cool water, handing it over.

Lying was not a skill that came easily to Edge, but he couldn’t bear to rupture the hopefulness of that expression. He stalled, taking a long drink from the water bottle before he temporized, “I always have fun with you.”

The lopsided smile said he was less than successful, but the soft kiss he was granted meant the effort was appreciated.

“yeah, no. you’re sweet, but i can almost see the dust from grinding your teeth.” Stretch caught hold of his elbow with a freshly washed hand. “c’mon, let’s get out of here.”

Edge resisted. “You wanted to see the fireworks.”

“and you are gonna get a headache if we stay longer. i had fun today, babe, let’s end it on a good note?”

He hesitated. Leaving sounded like a gift, but the day was never meant for him. Yet if they stayed and he ended up with a miserable headache, the misery wouldn’t be only his. “All right.”

The walk to the car was a quick one and so was their exit. There were few other cars on the streets; it seemed most of the city was still at the festival. The cooler darkness was already easing away his headache, the rush of the wind soothing.

Next to him, Stretch sprawled back in the seat, staring lazily up at the darkened sky where stars were beginning to twinkle above them. Soon it would be filled with fireworks, sprays of color painted against the velvet night, and Stretch was going to miss it.

Or...

With the top down and the sun finally gone, the breeze was glorious but they didn’t experience it for long. Edge turned into the entrance of a Jamba Juice, parking in the furthest part of the lot away from the straggle of other cars.

“did you want a drink?” Stretch sat up, confused.

“No. Just wait.”

His timing couldn’t have been better. In the distance came a boom, then the crackle of fireworks exploding across the sky, soaring overtop the trees. The cacophony was muted but the show was no less brilliant.

Nor was the soft delight on Stretch’s face, and Edge’s attention was split between the sparkling sky and his husband’s quiet enjoyment. Slender fingers caught his own and Edge squeezed them gently, then blinked in surprise as they pulled insistently, until he was tugged over the gearshift to the passenger side.

They were slim enough to fit together in the seat without too much discomfort and was worth it to have Stretch snuggle back into his arms.

He sat back and watched the fireworks, breathing in the sweetness of his husband’s scent as he held him, a lovely ending to a long day.

But tomorrow, there was going to be a chat with Antwan and Edge was in no mood to take no for an answer.

-finis-

[bonesandscales]

Hannibal Fic Recs

I’ve seen a couple of those floating around lately so I thought I’d do one too. Here are some of my favourite fics in the fandom.

1. Rediscovered Treasures by Nalyra (@allione). Will finds Hannibal's stash "erotica" from around the world. Hannibal of course claims that it's all "art"--very sophisticated and classy--and Will is just like, "that is a woman fucking a squid ffs”. 

(sending a million kisses to allione because this is the fic that made me start writing for this fandom ❤)

2. Omiai by iesika (@iesika). Will acquires a murderous secret admirer, and learns how much easier the habit of violence can be with an enthusiastically willing target. 

A courtship through blood and… other means of influence.

3. Sounders of Three by inameitlater. "The Chesapeake Ripper kills in sounders of three.

"In which Will continues his journey after the events of "We Killed a Dragon Last Night".

4. Ravenous by rageprufrock. Clarice Starling meets Hannibal Lecter armed with a copy of the Buffalo Bill file. 

5. i feel your thumbs press into my skin again by softhan (@strongwillgraham). Autoimmune encephalitis can be a recurring disease,” Hannibal says, as gently as Will has ever heard him.“Oh, god.” Will brings his hands up and covers his face. He takes a moment to just breathe, letting the thought hit him and settle, mind spiraling in a hundred directions. “What are we going to do about that? I can’t very well just check myself into a hospital and say ‘Hi, I have a history of this rare autoimmune disease that a fugitive who looks exactly like me is known for having’, can I?”

Will has a relapse of his encephalitis, but Hannibal and their dogs take good care of him.

6. The Torment of Tantalus by InfiniteCrisis (@crisisoninfintefandoms). Set in Cuba after the fall. Hannibal isn’t touching Will. Will wants to know why, but is afraid to ask.

Sexual and emotional tension and resolution; a comedy of errors told by the ocean and classical mythology.

"Everyone always spoke of the torment of Tantalus; no one ever stopped to consider what it was like for the tree."

7. The Estate by bokunojinsei (@bokuno-jinsei). "Love involves a peculiar unfathomable combination of understanding and misunderstanding."

-Diane Arbus

Chiyoh had shot Will down in the street, his forgiveness falling with a clatter to the pavement. Hannibal, once intent on his belief that only by consuming Will could he be free of him, decides impulsively to try something a little different than what he had planned.

Or: What if Hannibal hadn't tried to eat Will after he drugged him in Florence? What if he'd decided to run away with him instead?

8. Out Of The Depths by TiggyMalvern (@tiggymalvern). After the fall, Hannibal gets away and Will is left behind to deal with Jack, and the wreckage.

9. Physis by Chifuyu (@staticraining). After everything that has happened in Italy, there is still one last obstacle Will Graham has to overcome before he can try and pick up the broken pieces that once were his life: Being a witness at Hannibal Lecter’s trial.

10. The Sun’s Light Failed by  shiphitsthefan (@shiphitsthefan). “I know what you are," Will tells him. "You’re the Ripper. I see you."

A long pause, and then Hannibal very carefully says, “You shouldn’t speak of such things. I dread the thought of you and calamity meeting under inconspicuous circumstance.”

Will steps forward into Hannibal’s space; he eases down to his knees in front of him, but never breaks eye contact, and it doesn’t hurt to look at Hannibal. It’s like looking into a carnival mirror; they’re the same, but different. “That isn’t a denial."

Hannibal takes a deep breath. He reaches out and brushes his fingers along Will’s cheek. His hand is trembling. “Does the lamb come so freely to the slaughter?

11. “NIGHT OF THE RIPPER” by  EvilAdmin. Life finally seems to be on the upswing for 24-year-old Wolf Trap police officer Will Graham when he receives a letter from the FBI Academy informing him that he's been accepted into their program for the upcoming semester. But fate intervenes with a cruel and ironic twist when Will walks into a house and discovers a murder scene, and he recognizes the M.O. as that of the Chesapeake Ripper, a killer who’s been on the FBI’s ten most wanted list for the past two years. But the shock of finding a Ripper murder scene in Wolf Trap is only the beginning as Will soon realizes that the Ripper is still in the house. And so begins a night of terror for Will as he tries to stay one step ahead of one of the most ruthless and cunning killers in the country, while also trying to prove to himself that he's worthy enough to join the ranks of the F.B.I.

A "Hannibalized" version of the book “Intensity” by Dean Koontz.

12. through a glass by amare. He went to sleep in an asylum; he woke up in a reality not his own. Will's either gone down the rabbit hole of his own unstable mind, or he's ended up someplace else entirely. (The non-opaque summary: Will wakes up in a universe where he and Hannibal are dating.)

13. Variation on Persephone by dornfelder (@uniwolfwerecorn). When they speak of Kore, they never talk about how she had, in truth, been Persephone all along.

14. The Thorn of the Rose by AGlassRoseNeverFades (@aglassroseneverfades). "Beware," it is said, "Beware, beware, do not go into the forest at night." Yet go Will must in order to save his best friend Alana after she goes missing in that gloomy, forbidden wood. He finds her in the dungeons of an abandoned castle at the heart of the forest, imprisoned by a fearsome horned beast. A bargain is struck, one life in exchange for another, and Will learns that all is not as it seems in the ruins of Castle Lecter.

A Hannibal retelling of Beauty and the Beast.

15. To Beg by jonnimir (@ethicsbecomeaesthetics). Hannibal blinked, taken aback by the sudden turn of phrase. Then his upper lip curled. “I beg your pardon?”

Will looked phenomenally unconcerned for someone whose tongue Hannibal was idly contemplating serving as an amuse-bouche. If anything he looked satisfied at throwing Hannibal off-balance, a smile playing around his lips. He straightened his back, raised a brow, and said with relish: “Then beg.”

Hannibal finds himself unexpectedly attracted to Will's dominance. Will stumbles upon his submissive streak by accident, and is quick to seize this opportunity.

16. Blood and Feathers and Antlers by  TheSilverQueen (@thesilverqueenlady). When Will was a young fawn, all he ever wanted was to grow up as proud and strong as his idol, the Prince of the Forest, Jack. And then one day he wandered off the path and into the strangest pool he'd ever seen. It was red as those sharp roses whose thorns Will had learned the hard way not to eat and smelled like the metal that he'd seen two-legs leave behind. It takes a few drinks to realize that it's blood. When he jumps back in shock, he ends up bumping into the biggest stag he's ever seen, bigger than Will's father, bigger than even the great Prince of the Forest, with antlers as tall as Will himself and feathers as black as night.

"Hello, little fawn," says the Ravenstag, "what have we here?"

17. Proximity by victorine (@victorineb). Hannibal’s hand is halfway to stroking down Will’s spine before he catches himself. He is achingly hard and the source of his arousal is inches from him, blissfully unaware. Slowly, he draws his hand back and lets it slide downwards, towards the swell of his erection, letting out a hiss as he grazes against the silk that is barely containing it.

This is… rude. Inexcusably so. Were he entirely in control, Hannibal would surely retreat into his mind palace and wait until he was less affected.

But…

Hannibal cannot touch Will as he aches to. So he touches himself instead.

18. Hannibal: Pushing Us Into Self-Destruction by IBegToDreamAndDiffer  (@ibegto-dreamanddiffer). Clarice Starling needs help with a case, so she pays a visit to Will Graham, who's incarcerated in the Baltimore Sate Hospital with his partner.

19. Pattern Break by ThisBeautifulDrowning. Will knew what had happened. He knew exactly how Abigail's ear had gotten into him, who had shoved it down his throat. He also knew that trying to indicate Hannibal as a killer again was futile. Jack seemed to want to believe him, going by the conversation in the BSHCI's visitor hall, but Jack needed something concrete, evidence. Hannibal had eluded capture for so long, he wasn't going to start leaving fingerprints or hairs at his crime scenes now.No, Will was going to deal with Hannibal Lecter on his own terms. The man deserved to reap what he'd so carefully sowed, didn't he? He deserved to experience what he'd coaxed forth from the bottom of Will's soul, to see the result of his machinations.

After his release from the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane, Will doesn't return to work for the FBI.

20. Atavism by RubyBakeneko (@rubybakeneko). Will and Hannibal have prolific amounts of sex, but Will refuses to accept tenderness or affection. When Hannibal objects, Will thinks it’s with the aim of controlling him and fostering further dependency. He roleplays as his former self to try and prove his point, steadfastly ignoring his own underlying feelings and motivations. The results are predictably messy. 

[periodicreviews]

RWBY/RTX Austin 2018

Last weekend, I went to RTX Austin which is Rooster Teeth’s annual convention. Last time I went in 2016, it was about primarily to try it out, but I was also interested in seeing the RWBY panel for the plan the staff had for the forthcoming Volume 4, the first without Monty. I was pleasantly surprised when I heard Jeff Williams would be performing a concert and this turned out to be the highlight. 

I skipped 2017 because there was no Jeff Williams concert and partially due to being disappointed with Volume 4.

I bet this year on the fact that Jeff would be coming back and that turned out to be a good choice because the show did not disappoint. I don’t think the 2016/first time experience can ever be topped, but this 2018 show was equally worth the money.

After the disappointment that was Volume 4 and the mediocre Volume 5, I wasn’t as hyped about RWBY, but I figured I should still go to RTX and see it since I’d be there anyway. But admittedly I was going more for the concert than anything else.

The following is a summary of the RWBY panel #1 on Friday, the JWFO concert and Q&A, and a few other things.

RWBY pre-panel

There were several things that stood out to me at this panel.

Before the panel began, two women came out on stage to warm up the crowd. (This was after Craig from GameAttack came out to ask for donations for the Extra Life charity stream that they do). I hate to reduce them to stereotypes because I don’t really know anything about them and don’t have anything against them, but it’s the easiest way to convey the scene. Girl #1 was cosplaying as Yang. She seemed to be a very energetic and outgoing type of person and I got the impression that she is trying to get hired by Rooster Teeth in a marketing/PR role. Girl #2 was wearing a RWBY dress and was the quieter kind of nerdy girl who had a little trouble speaking either due to nervousness or she just stutters when she talks. Girl #2 also had a bat wrapped with barbed wire, like from The Walking Dead which apparently someone just gave to her as a gift.

I bring up their appearances/personalities because they mentioned they had introduced several panels together, meaning that some organizer had put them together for some reason. There just didn’t seem to be any chemistry between the two. Girl #1 would start to go off on a PR line about how beautiful all the Yangs/cosplayers looked and Girl #2 would say “I like turtles”. She didn’t actually say “I like turtles” but I’m just trying to illustrate the kind of disconnect between them.

 “So amazing!”

Girl #1 repeated this phrase at least 20 times while she was on-stage. I get she was there to hype up RWBY and RT, but maybe she went a little too far. She made it sound like everything at RTX was the best thing ever, which I get for fans, it’s a very enjoyable experience and from a PR perspective that’s what you want to convey. This is no different from something like Electric Daisy Carnival where they really push the “You are loved”/“We are all friends” message as you bake for 12 hours in the sun.

“Proud of me yet dad?”

Girl #2 said this near the end of their time and it felt like it was one of the few genuine moments during that opening.

“RWBY is the most forward facing property that Rooster Teeth has.”

Girl #1 said this and it’s one of many things she said that made me think she was trying to get hired.

“Are you guys ready for the Yang-bang with Barb?”

I cringed at this. I was completely unaware that the group selfie with Barbra Dunkleman (the voice of Yang) and other Yang cosplayers was referred to as a Yang-bang (I looked it up and that is what she tagged it as in 2016). I get that RWBY is now dark and gritty and no longer a “kid-friendly” show per se. But phrasing the selfie like this seemed to be a little too casual pun on “gangbang”.

Besides this, they went through the usual crowd questions like “Who’s here to see RWBY?”, “How many people have been to RTX before?”, “Did you guys get your merch? Oh that merch is so great.”, etc.

RWBY main panel

Once the panel officially started, I was confused as to why, just like in 2016, everyone seems so unorganized/unprepared. Maybe they think it’s funny, but I’d much rather prefer just a concise 45 minutes of presenting/banter, with 15 min for question. Kerry is always like “Oh guys, where did I put that? Is this next? Is that later? Should we just do it now?”

They announced “RWBY After the Fall” a new set of YA novels from Scholastic. It makes sense that they’re exploring the RWBY universe but it does make me wonder whether the V4 timeskip was seen as more of a business opportunity or done more in service to what would make the story better.

The most shocking thing about the panel was the discussion about how the writing process is different for Volume 6. Kerry and Miles initially started to say “In the past” but then quickly altered course and said “Let’s not talk about how we used to do it, just how we’re doing it now.” They basically described how they are writing more than one draft/getting the opinions of other people in the company who have been on the RWBY team for a long time.

It was shocking that they are doing it just now in Volume 6. I can understand Volume 1 and 2 just being a product of Monty/Miles/Kerry and 3 can kind of get a pass. But before/during Volume 4 and 5, wasn’t there anyone that said “Hey, maybe we need to do something different”? Maybe they did and it didn’t work out like they hoped. I am glad to hear that they are trying to improve the process.

The other big thing they did was to show a new character short. This one focused on the villains, mainly the White Fang/Adam. The short featured at least one new Jeff Williams vocal track and some of the animation looked amazing. In general, the animation for V4 and beyond has been decent to good, but there aren’t many instances where it really blows me away.

The short shows Sienna Khan using a chain rope weapon against multiple enemies at the same time. The chain (with a blade at the tip) moves so fluidly and the combat has a real sense of rhythm to it. Sure, you can have the greatest animation in the world, but it doesn’t mean anything if the story isn’t there to match it. I’m willing to stick around some more to see if the script improves. They did also announce a new RWBY Co director and if this short was a product of his involvement, then I like what I’m seeing so far.

Jeff and Casey Williams Q&A

When tickets first went on sale, the only option to be on the floor was to pay 60 dollars for a poster, ticket, and Q&A with Jeff and Casey. I think afterwards, you could just buy the standalone ticket, but I didn’t want to risk not being on the floor.

I get that the concert is hosted by ACL and not by RTX, but you would think there would be a little more coordination between the two organizations given that the concert appears on the RTX schedule and the graphic says “RTX presents”. On Saturday afternoon, I tried to figure out when and where the Q&A would be held. The regular guardians didn’t know and referred me to their manager. I was told to contact the venue to find out and that RTX wasn’t in charge of the event. It was just weird that RTX staff didn’t seem interested in finding out for themselves. I would bet I was not the only person to ask someone at RTX for information about the concert. Additionally the guy in charge of coordination was apparently not at RTX that day so I guess maybe he would’ve known. I ended up getting an email at 4pm telling me to go to the venue at 6pm. But for anyone who didn’t see that email, they were pretty upset that they missed it.

When I got to the venue, one of the staff members saw my Babymetal shirt and asked if I had seen them at ACL. I said no, but that I had seen them elsewhere. From that guy’s reaction and some of the looks from the other staff members, it felt like they instantly had a level of respect towards me. Like they had seen how the fans of Babymetal were at the show and thought “hey, this guy knows his good music.” Maybe I read them completely wrong. It was a very bizarre feeling because few people know what Babymetal is and fewer can read my almost illegible shirt.

Jeff seemed like he didn’t enjoy the stress of having to put on a big show and seemed kind of bored or just tired? Maybe RWBY fatigue is setting in and he feels kind of trapped by the constraints of the show. He talked about wanting to retire and start his Rush Limbo side project, which is music by the band Rush set in all 4-4 time in a reggae style. Obviously someone had to be that guy to ask Casey if she was single. I realize the guy thinks he is being funny or has a chance, but I think you’d be far less likely to go out with someone after subjecting them to a question like that where they are obligated to give you a response.

They floated the idea of playing shows in other locations but that seemed to be constrained by the forces at Rooster Teeth. Or maybe they’re just concerned they aren’t big enough to make any money off a tour. Jeff recommended everyone read a book called “The War of Art” which is about overcoming yourself to create the thing you’ve always wanted but never finished.

JWFO concert

The concert itself was great, but got off to a late start.

I almost forgot about all the weird things that happened while waiting for the concert to start. Someone started a sing along to Bohemian Rhapsody and several other songs. I’ve experienced the Bohemian Rhapsody sing along before, but never at another concert. When they played Numb by Linkin Park as background music, everyone sang along to that too, which is something that I have seen at other concerts at Hard Rock/House of Blues. At one point some people in the crowd erupted in shouts of “Jason?!” which I can only assume was a Heavy Rain reference. Then the crowd started to cheer whenever any technician or photographer came on stage. Again, this is not something I experience at many/if any shows.

This super hype atmosphere is fine, until it turns into everyone trying to be a comedian while there’s either a break between songs, or when the musicians are conversing on stage. Someone said like “Rest in pieces Pyhrra” or something like that at one point and sure I can handle one or two jokes or the occasional shout out. But at the end of the day, I’m here to see the band, not the crowd. I don’t blame those people in the audience trying to get Jeff or Casey to notice them and to have that deeper connection, but it gets old after a while.

There seemed to be communication issues or just not enough time to practice the ordering of the songs. Richie Branson was incredible as an opening act. I’ve seen him three times before and he is great every time. I think a lot of the audience didn’t know who he was or that there would be an opening act, but he seemed to win everyone over by the end of the first song. Adrienne Cowan, Lamar Hall, and Lydia were great again on vocals during the main act.

There were sadly no solos sections like there were in 2016. I remember vividly the extended piano solo the keyboardist performed to lead into “When It Falls”. Jeff also didn’t crowd surf this year either. But I think they were just pressed for time. Casey still seems to struggle more on some songs than others, but she was frank during the Q&A that she has a long way to go and it’s a struggle to keep up at Berklee.

Highlights for me were “Ignite” and “Smile” off the Volume 5 soundtrack.

 Other things

I spent the majority of my time in the Vendor Room playing Rock Band 4. Harmonix was there because “This Will Be The Day” is now available as DLC. But with everyone playing the same song, I think they were grateful for anyone who wouldn’t play that. There were some talented players there and it just felt good to play Rock Band after not having done it with a group in a while. I think the people in the Rock Band line were some of the friendliest I met all weekend.

I felt like I struggled socially during the whole weekend. Maybe it’s just that most con-people aren’t very good at socializing. Or it’s just me or a byproduct of going alone. Everyone else staying at the hostel I was at was interested in talking though.

I went to see an improv comedy show at the Fallout Theater. The show was called “Penalty Box” and there were a set of rules that the audience knew but the performers didn’t. So every time they violated a rule, they would get sent to the penalty box and through trial and error they would figure out most of the rules. It’s entertaining as an audience member, but as someone who is taking improv classes, I recognize how painful it is for the performers. Some of the rules prevent you from doing things that you are taught to do, resulting in at least one scene where the performers just stood still on stage and didn’t talk.

The Mega64 panel was also very enjoyable. Arcade UFO is a pretty nice arcade with a lot of games you don’t normally see in the US. I also got to see a friend I haven’t seen in a while. I have mixed feelings about Troy Baker’s “TED” talk style panel, but I respect that it was not just “another Q&A” type panel.

 Maybe I’ll go back next year.

[cyrelia-j]

[Fic] Deuces IV: Heartbreaker (Garak/Bashir)

(Apologies if #1 this has weird characters and #2 it doesn’t cut. I’m about to melt down trying to get this to work and on every device I use it looks wrong in a different way so I’m at a loss)

First off, MASSIVE thanks to @eilupt​ @ladyvean​ @noxziconsortium​ @valkyriesews​ and anyone else I forgot to mention for your input on Cardassian fair food. Also, I wanted things to be a bit different but don’t be alarmed by any snags in the road because this is ultimately definitely a garashir universe :) Previous parts are here:

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Summary: AU (no Dominion also kept some other characters alive like Bareil because this world is a happy place) Garak and his surrogate daughter Ziyal find themselves on Deep Space Nine on a stopover to Bajor. While Major Kira shows Ziyal around DS9 Garak and Julian have their date. Julian is optimistic. After all, he’s got this down to a science

Keiko O’Brien is an absolute gift from the Prophets, Julian likes to say making use of local idioms, and if Miles doesn’t treat her properly Julian is totally going to steal her. That’s what he likes to tease, but she really is an intelligent and infinitely creative woman who has been invaluable in the success of what Julian likes to call his infallible first date sure thing holoprogram. Jadzia had at first referred to it playfully as “Julian’s Lizard Daddy Trap”. Keiko had then told the both of them about gairaigo and how a lot of Japanese products to this day bear strange sounding names because of the fascination with borrowed words . She then showed them an old “family heirloom” that was something called a “bento box” with the odd combination of words “Crunky Ball Nude” elegantly scrawled across the top. She then said with a perfectly straight face that if Julian wanted to truly thank her for her contributions to the menu that he would call it nothing less than “Julian’s Delicious Lizard Delight Circus.”

The program now bears the innocuous file name of “JDLDC1”

The program in question is the ultimate product of love and devotion- and if he’s being frank, Julian’s attempt to streamline the “first date” into a happy efficient guarantee of success. It had taken the three of them – Jadzia, Julian, and Keiko – two years to complete with some degree of trial and error but it’s a masterwork. Julian had built it off of one of Recreational Station Hidalgo’s old modules of an exotic carnival and the three of them worked to modify every parameter to meet a certain taste; namely a certain Cardassian male taste, though Julian didn’t see that it wouldn’t appeal to most Cardassians as a whole with some modifications.

Quark certainly seemed to think so. Going off Julian’s impressive track record in fact, he thought if Julian would let him copy it that it would net them both a tidy profit with the steady influx of Cardassians passing through the station. Julian wouldn’t hear of Jadzia and Keiko being left out but in the end he decided that he still wanted to get use out of it before it became public.

Quark had asked sourly exactly how many more Cardassians he really needed to entertain as many as he had already. So perhaps Julian had developed a bit of a reputation- amazingly over the course of his time on station he’d gone from Deep Space Nine’s resident Ladies Man to resident Lizard Queen- but well, he still hadn’t quite found the one who he could really fall for. Well, alright, perhaps Julian had fallen for several dozen going by Miles’ count but they just weren’t quite it. There was still something missing there. And thus came in the holoprogram that made the entire process easier.

Jadzia had contributed to the majority of the attractions, the exotic animals on display, the rides, and the shows. Of course they’d been honed and refined over time with new data to account for Cardassian musical preferences, hearing, exceptional eyesight, differences in equilibrium, adrenal responses and the like and it was absolutely magnificent. He’d also managed to- with Miles’ persuasive help initially- “sweet talk” Gilora Rejal from the Science Academy into further assisting them during her periodic visits for research. She’d thought the idea was completely ridiculous at first, but as he laid out his ambitious plans and designs, she couldn’t help but throw in corrections where she saw improvements were needed.

By the end of it, both she and Jadzia had engaged in some fantastically heated debates on adjustments and turned out a marvel of engineering. Jadzia may have also slept with her which Julian was a tad envious of since Gilora was a stunning woman. She’d warmed to Julian’s company once he’d finally stopped being so circumspect and polite and he corresponded with her regularly with her now to keep abreast of the latest news and current events on Cardassia Prime. She had a completely wicked and unforgiving wit and she also helpfully provided him with the best and most heated topics of debate that he took full advantage of using on his dates. Julian still wondered on occasion if he might not have a chance, but Jadzia was certain that it would never work.

Her associate, Ulani Belor had been curious as to their “secret” conversations and meetings though Julian didn’t know if she’d have an interest he’d explained the project to her as well. Their “colleague” Dejar had little interest in any of it and thought the lot of them were allowing themselves to get distracted by nonsense. Well, that was Julian’s introduction to the Obsidian Order and its operatives and he could say he’d be perfectly happy to go his entire life without dealing with another one of them. Ulani had taken interest in the food that Keiko had been working on. Julian hardly fancied himself a culinary expert- Miles once said he was pretty sure that Julian would ingest anything for the purposes of getting laid. But between the two of them they seemed to reach a perfect accord and marriage of both Cardassian and Earth tastes.

Or rather it turned out that the Cardassian taste was particularly receptive to a lot of Japanese and other Southeast and East Asian foods not often represented in most Federation cultural exchanges. Both scientists declared after tasting the dango smothered in yamok sauce that if the Federation actually brought some real food with them, they might find more Cardassians to be receptive to their proposals. Keiko then wondered if the Vietnamese balut that some back stalls still sold had would carry well over to regova eggs. It absolutely did and Ulani was happy to share some other Kardasi festival delights such as W’sai, Kori balls, and Nurot. Well, lacking a sense of taste or not, Julian was completely sold and it turned out, so was Legate Turrel when he was on the station during negotiations with Kai Winn and Vedek Bareil. Not that Julian is bragging, but he doesn’t think that Vedek Bareil had anything on his negotiating skills.

Julian wasn’t sure how he’d felt about Captain Sisko subsequently designating him official head of the Cardassian welcoming committee, remarking with a perfectly straight face that he was pleased Julian had overcome his initial difficulties with showing foreign dignitaries around the station. Julian was sure there was some look that passed between him and Jadzia just then which made him pout just a bit before ultimately accepting incredibly graciously. He could hardly look a gift horse in the mouth.

And he was good at it, he found, his social life aside. Julian had grown quite adept at reading the necessary cues to avoid any embarrassing incidents (Kira still seemed crushed that Gul Dukat had no interest in him whatsoever though Julian was hardly crushed by that realization as he found the man utterly insufferable) and learned which subtle ones to throw out when off duty to get a feel for the atmosphere as Keiko liked to say. Julian saved those little tricks for his dates though; no need to let on too early just how good he was at this game. Most of the men he dated seemed to prefer his “vapid twink doctor” bit anyway and he only employed the most subtle use of his Cardassian routine. He was terribly good at it.

According to Quark as he enters the bar tonight, they were taking bets on which of the newest station arrivals Julian had his eye on. Quark informs him a bit sourly that he’d lost a good bit of latinum when he bet on the older doctor from Lacoria City. Rom on the other hand had picked the Tailor Garak right off the bat and is counting his winnings rather loudly at the bar. Quark snaps that they aren’t his winnings since “his woman” had to pick the candidate for him. Julian just smiles and shakes his head as he looks for Garak to make an entrance. Leeta knows his tastes so well.

Julian had arrived exactly on time, neither early nor late knowing how Cardassians value punctuality. And what an entrance he makes. Garak looks absolutely luscious in the dark red silk shirt wrapped around him magnificently, showing off those broad shoulders and delectable thick waist. And speaking of thick… Julian is sure he must be drooling, looking at those impeccably tailored pants hugging thick thighs and Julian finds himself catching a discreet glimpse to the burnished old Bajoran sculpture that he’d donated out of generosity.

Of course those in the Federation were renown for stupid gestures like that though Julian admitted to Quark that if he would be so kind as to perhaps place it say along the one wall near the first floor entrance where Julian might make use of it for “observational purposes” he might say that he owed Quark a favor during one of Odo’s subsequent “witch hunts”. Quark hadn’t needed more than a month before he called that favor in and Odo hardly seemed amused by his accidentally spilling a drink on the “Odo in a jar” that he’d assumed the guise of to replace Quark’s actual one. Julian loves the sculpture.

Especially now that the flat, reflective surface is giving him the most stunning view of Garak’s ass that he could have imagined. Julian usually prefers bottoming but for an ass like that he’s more than willing to be flexible. …In more ways than one.

“The house takes two! Place your bets now!” Quark yells out the code as every eye on the bar turns to Julian for just a moment. He smiles a bit self-effacing at that, the 2 references the two hours Quark thinks it will take him to bed the humble tailor. Julian certainly hopes so. A few bets go for 1 and some for a half- Julian mentally rolls his eyes at that bit of optimism- but he trusts Quark, really. The house is rarely wrong. Julian meets Garak with a few steps, seeing the curious look.

“They’re taking bets,” Julian explains with a disinterest shrug. “I couldn’t begin to guess on what but I have to tell you, that you look absolutely fabulous.” Julian gives a casual but hopeful brush of his upper arm. “I love this shirt,” he says, sure to keep his flirting completely human for now. He can let the fun begin once they’re inside. Garak’s smile in return is brilliant. It’s a wide pleased grin and Julian can see the hint of tongue poking the air, tasting, scenting.

He was sure to shower and apply the deodorizing oil that he and Jadzia had developed after his second date had informed him rather bluntly that he had a delightful time but didn’t think he’d ever be able to adjust to the human scent and taste. Julian never thought he particularly smelled but Gilora had said there was a very strong musk that he would get when perspiring that had quite a salty and at times bitter taste to it. Jadzia didn’t have it and neither did Keiko and he thought it might be a male thing until Keiko reminded him (which he really should have remembered being a doctor) that humans of East Asian descent tend to have fewer apocrine sweat glands and so there began the great experiment to develop an oil that could effectively eliminate that issue. After much trial and error he realized everything Federation produced left an odd lingering taste on the Cardassian tongue even if it was supposed to have no odor.

It took months but in the end it worked with the final approval from both Gilora and Ulani he had an effective oil which sat over the skin until it wore off naturally over a few days’ time but until then reacted exactly as needed to produce no odor but a faint trace of sandalwood and root from the north renowned for it’s mild aroma. They both informed him that they’d scented him more than they cared to and he absolutely owed them both big time. He figured it couldn’t be worse than any other deals he’d cut with them.

There’s a curious glance from Garak at that but he refrains from commenting on it instead complimenting Julian’s outfit. Julian can see a linger of eyes to his bare neck, bare collarbone and he almost wishes that he could bet on himself. One. Definitely one.

“You’ve no idea how excited I am to show you what I have planned for this evening,” Julian says practically vibrating. The Midway. Julian definitely is going to start there with this one. One hour if that and he’s got this. He shoots Quark a wink holding up a finger watching as the patrons erupt in another frenzy of betting as they make their way to the second floor. Julian’s got this…

Garak doesn’t know that he’s ever been more bored in his life. He smiles politely as Julian drinks the broth out of the boiled egg his head timing out just when he imagines that Julian is going to accidentally spill some down his neck because it’s “terribly messy” and there it goes, a few inviting rivulets of the clear broth running down that nicely tanned skin.

“And I take it that’s how I’m supposed to enjoy this delicacy?” Garak asks already knowing the answer because he’s already known the answer to every insipid contrivance that this evening has brought him. Guls, if Julian wasn’t so gorgeous… but even that’s starting to wear thin. Julian smiles- wait for it- inviting tilt of his head just so, to the right, another flash of his neck and Garak knows that he should have long put a hand on Julian’s shoulder to show his interest but it’s just so obvious he can’t bring himself to give in to such egregiously blatant cues even if it drags this miserable date out further.

That and actually every dish that Julian has tempted into his hands has been completely to die for.

The teriyaki, the sweet and sour sauce covering the fried pop beetles nearly brought him to another plane of existence. Julian had gone on about the work he and Chief Engineer O’Brien’s wife had put into the food in the program along with on Ulani Belor who he’d only chanced to hear of due to his former colleague’s amateurish bungling of a simple sabotage mission. Naturally he told Julian he wasn’t familiar with her. Right about now he’s almost wishing he was on a date with her as Julian begins another “conversation starter” that he has to be fishing off of a hidden list somewhere.

“Yes, you’ve got it, you do that brilliantly,” he says in a fawning compliment that would be nice if it wasn’t immediately followed up by a predictable air scenting and an enthusiastic “flirty” draw of his finger in the air and by the state did someone print Cardassian dating manual in the Federation since the end of the occupation because Garak feels he could sit here with a list and check everything off in order.

The Regova balut is also heaven. The sprinkle of the furikake that Julian suggests is masterful. Julian then asks his opinion on the proposed changes to the household registry next quarter that the council meets and Garak nearly wants to weep. Garak is sure that Julian will present the most uninformed opinion imaginable and allow Garak to “educate” him while he tries to debate a careful but ultimately poor position. Guls, if he wanted to have a date with a vapid holoprogram he’d just run the thing without Julian and just enjoy the food and the ambiance.

How long has it even been? Garak is certain he’s lost all sense of time being trapped in this miserable mobius continuum of bad date. Perhaps he’s in fact died and this is some Faustian iteration of eternal torment for a life poorly lived. The most delicious food in the galaxy in exchanged for company so poor it would drive a man to want to take his own life. Alright, so perhaps the newly opened Federation archives have only given him a larger plethora of work with which to reference when he wants to seem smart- at least that’s what Parmak had said to him the last time they had corresponded. He’d sooner die than admit it but there’s actually some Earth derived literature that he enjoys and he’d been hoping for more interesting cultural exchanges and debates like he’s enjoyed with some of the more frequent human visitors vacationing on the Morfan Providence but…

“Is something the matter?” Julian asks and Garak can’t believe that he’s been driven to actually show any of his anguish outwardly. Ironically in a rare moment of veracity he has no clue where to even begin to itemize the obscenely long list of everything single “something” which has grown fed by Julian’s obviousness into a “matter”.  My, where to even start… perhaps the scent is the most difficult to reconcile. I definitely scented you in the Replimat and it was a touch strong but very human, very alluring and it was quite nice. But here tonight it’s like tasting a pleasure doll engineered to be inoffensive which may appeal to some but it’s quite boring. You were charming in the replimat and here charm has given way to some series of contrived scripts you’ve been following exactly like a carefully choreographed routine. Which makes perfect sense of course given the interesting conversation I’d had in Quark’s but still I’d hoped for something a bit different.

He’d in fact as was his custom gone to Quark’s earlier in the day to make a discreet study of the area, check for escape routes, hazards, observe the atmosphere. He hadn’t noticed anything untoward as he ordered a drink and kept his ears and eyes open. It had allowed him to relax a bit and it wasn’t long before he started catching snippets of conversation about the “infamous” Julian Bashir which was quite a curiosity. He certainly wasn’t going to involve himself with anyone who could pose a possible danger to himself or Ziyal but then in striking up a conversation with a fellow named Morn who couldn’t shut up for the life of him he learned several interesting things.

The first being that the young doctor was infamous for the number of Cardassian men he’d bedded- primarily military men and a handful of freighter captains. The second was that his reputation was so large that the entire bar got in on serious betting whenever a “fresh wave” of Cardassians were on the station and third… Third being that he never fails to “bag his lizard” with this very program. Which Garak supposes he could see if he was feeling particularly charitable but he’s been gamely going along with this for the past hour now and he’s sure he’s put in enough time.

He went along with taking the lead in winning Julian some nonsense trinket from a target shooting booth, earning much praise from a “strength tester”  that was definitely doctored, to a boat ride with just the right ambient sounds to create pleasant complimentary reactions in one’s nervous system and on and on to Julian himself who clearly has mastered the fine art of appealing to a very specific segment of the Cardassian military population. It’s a wonder they haven’t invited him back to give him his own holiday. Which Garak supposes would be all well and good- Yes, doctor, I’m so pleased with your obvious love of civic duty that I’ll gladly put a hand on your shoulder and tell you what a good boy you are- except he isn’t some authority obsessed soldier who gets off on these bland deferential power games. He wants passion, he wants a challenge, he wants there to be a reason for him to bring discipline, to lead, to bring Julian to heel. Perhaps he is getting old because Julian clearly has done this dance so much he could go through the motions unconscious but is it really asking too much to have something more than just a pleasing body to jam his prUt into?

Still, he has to bear in mind that cause embarrassment to the station CMO might prove unwise. Yes, a lie is definitely in order here, though he needs to make sure it’s not a medical one. He supposes Ziyal will have to be it. It’s uncreative and stupid but frankly, Julian doesn’t deserve his good stuff and the sooner it gets him out of here the better.

“I’m sorry, doctor,” he says a touch dramatically. He might not be getting more than Julian’s usual routine but he likes to think that even if he’s returning in kind that his routine is much more convincing. “I’m afraid I’ve been terribly poor company but you see I’ve just been so terribly concerned about Yaya. Oh, I know she’s a grown woman and I trust Major Kira to be showing her the same consideration and hospitality that you’ve shown me-“ Guls, he hopes not “-but I just haven’t been able to give you the attention that you deserve and it’s such a pity after all the trouble that you’ve gone through. It’s only my hope that we might do this again sometime.” Perhaps after he’s long dead and Julian gets some new material.

Garak wears sincerity brightly and reaches across the table to put his hand over Julian’s. He intends the gesture in the human way but sees Julian’s curious look at the display of dominance. Maybe he’ll get lucky and a fleet of Klingon birds of prey will crash into the station. But it seems to do the trick and Doctor Bashir is ending the program mercifully. Garak could kiss him, he really could. Except that would certainly make him try for a second and Garak isn’t too keen on remembering the first. He wonders if anyone ever actually bets on the doctor to fail. Judging by the expression on Julian’s face somehow he doubts it.

And it’s with that sour taste in his mouth that Garak finally gets back to his quarters determined to hack the station computers and never again eat in the Replimat when Julian isn’t on duty. He sees Ziyal laying sprawled on the couch looking about the way that he feels right about now. He opens his mouth to ask, the two of them exchanging a look before he does.

“Kanar?” She asks sympathetically already sitting up to go get it.

“Kanar,” Garak agrees with a sigh.

Looks like he’s not the only one who had a “bad date”.

(Part 5 is here)

[vivcela]

A Rose for Emily by William Faulkner

“Forget what hurt you, but never forget what it taught you.”

The story begins with the funeral of Emily Grierson. The entire town attended her funeral in her home since they viewed it as an obligation and because they were curious to see the inside of her house which no one has entered for ten years. After this event, the story flashbacks with the narrator telling the story of Emily’s life. Emily was raised by an overprotective and controlling father who drove away all of her suitors because of his belief that none of them were good enough for his daughter. When her father died, she became poor and devastated. Colonel Sartoris, the town’s mayor at the time, helped her by suspending her tax responsibilities to the town. When new town leaders took over, they attempted to make Emily pay her taxes but she refused and told them to talk to Colonel regarding the matter. Unfortunately, Colonel has already been dead for ten years.

Despite of the difficult situation she has faced, Emily eventually recovers and meets a man named Homer Barron, a Northerner who came to town shortly after her father’s death. They became sweethearts but in the end, Homer told Emily that he is not the marrying type of person and left her. When Emily is seen buying arsenic from the local store, the townspeople are convinced that Homer’s declaration has driven her to suicide. In the end, the truth was discovered in Emily’s funeral when the townspeople break down the door to an upstairs bedroom in the old Grierson home. They found out that Emily killed Homer as they saw the interior decorated like a bridal suite but with the atmosphere of a long-ignored tomb, the decomposed body of Homer on the bed, and a single strand of long, gray hair placed on empty pillow next to him.

A Rose for Emily is a story that left me a lesson about getting over the past and overcoming struggles in life. It is clear that Emily struggled in coping up with her father’s death. I understand her because even I will suffer greatly if one of my loved ones died. Like Emily, I am also afraid of losing the most important persons in my life and if I experienced the same situation Emily has encountered, I am not confident if I can still be happy and continue to live. Nevertheless, the story made me realized the importance of being strong and finding solutions to one’s problem. I believe that if Emily found people whom she can lean on to especially in times of darkness, then her story would be different. Therefore, as we encounter challenges in life, we must keep in mind that there is nothing wrong with seeking for help for us to heal and finally grow.

The Cask of Amontillado by Edgar Allan Poe

“The thousand injuries of Fortunato I had borne as best I could; but when he ventured upon insult, I vowed revenge.” - Montresor

The story is centred on a man named Montresor who decided to take revenge on Fortunato who insulted him. His plans was to meet Fortunato at a carnival, trick him regarding the barrel of a rare brandy called Amontillado, and bury him alive in the catacomb of his house. Fortunato’s drunkenness and interest in verifying the authenticity of the wine made it easier for Montresor to make these plans possible. In the end, Fortunato died being trapped in the hole and nobody has discovered his death even after many years have passed by.

The Cask of Amontillado taught me the importance of thinking first before doing or saying something. It is because words and actions are powerful to the point that it can damage one’s well-being if people are not careful at deciding what to say or do. The worst case is that we have already offended someone yet we were not aware that they were hurt because of us. As what the golden rule states, “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” If we want to be respected, then we should learn to respect other people to build and sustain a healthy relationship with other people.

Hills Like White Elephants by Ernest Hemingway

“We’re all human aren’t we? Every human life is worth the same and worth saving.”

– J.K. Rowling

The story is about a couple who stopped by at a train station in Spain, drank beer, and talked with each other. The man is convincing the woman to abort their baby by letting her know that the procedure is simple and safe although it was not really guaranteed safe at that time, reassuring her that he will be right beside her the whole time, and that abortion is the only solution to the problems in their relationship. However, the woman is indecisive regarding the issue.

Hills Like White Elephants emphasized the idea that we are all responsible for every action we have made. Yes, we are free to choose, but we are not free to choose the consequences of our choices. This is why we must think carefully and consider the common good not only the selfish interests. Reflecting on this story, I realized that we must learn to overcome greed in order to avoid cruel deeds.

God Sees the Truth, But Waits by Leo Tolstoy

“Obviously, no one except God can know the truth… only from Him should I ask help, from Him alone can I expect mercy.”

– Ivan Aksionov

The story is about Ivan Aksionov, a young merchant who lives in Vladimir with his wife Vanya. To earn money, he decided to travel and sell goods during summer despite of being told by his wife to not travel because she had a bad dream. Ivan met another merchant whom he drank tea with and shared the same room in an Inn. Then he found out that the merchant he met was murdered and he was the primary suspect of the crime because a knife with blood stains was found inside his bag. One day, Ivan met his newly arrived inmate named Makar and as they talked with each other, Ivan begins to suspect that Makar was the one who framed him for the murder. He even found out that Makar is digging an escape tunnel under the wall of the prison. However, he decided not to tell this to the authorities. This made Makar realize his mistake, confessed that he was the one who killed the merchant and framed Ivan, and asked for forgiveness. In the end, the authorities wanted to release Ivan but it is too late because he was already dead.

God Sees the Truth, But Waits showed me that a person can still have a strong faith in God even if he experienced a great suffering in life. I admire Ivan for being able to believe and trust God in spite of being imprisoned for many years because of a crime he did not commit. If Ivan can still believe in God in spite of what happened to him, then I can also do the same thing even if sometimes I cannot understand why I must experience so much pain and hardships in life. Furthermore, the story taught me to have the courage to be accountable for all of our actions. We must not be like Makar who let Ivan suffer the consequences of his wrongdoing rather we must be good people who do not want to destroy someone’s life and who do not only think of what will benefit us.

The Handsomest Drowned Man in the World by Gabriel Garcia Marquez

“Look there, where the wind is so peaceful ... yes, over there, that's Esteban's village.”

- Narrator

The story tells the tale of a drowned man found on the shore of a small fishing village. The dead man, who is covered with seaweed, stones, and sea creatures, is unusually tall and incredibly handsome. The villagers named him Esteban and they begin to fall in love with him, treating him with religious reverence, and adopting him into their families. In the end, they returned the body into the sea without a weight attached, hoping that Esteban will float back someday on the shore. Even though they have freed Esteban, they promised to transform the village into kind of place worthy of Esteban.

The Handsomest Drowned Man in the World taught me that a truly great person can influence people to inspire them and change for the better. Personally, I have met many great people who served as inspirations for me to strive hard and be a better version of myself. Amidst the challenges, mistakes, and failures in life, they saw the good in me, believed in my capabilities, and stayed with me. This is why whatever happens, I will continue to fight every battle in life and as I journey through an unknown road, I will carry in my heart the purpose why I am doing what I am doing.

A Father by Anton Chekhov

“It’s a big happiness to love and be loved.”

– Anton Chekhov

The story is about a father named Musatov who finds himself lucky because despite of being a drunkard and constantly demanding money from his sons, his children still loved and accepted him. They tolerated him and provided his needs even if he did not deserve these for all the troubles he caused them and for not effectively playing his role as a father to them.

A Father made me realized that when you truly love someone, you will never get tired of understanding and accepting him despite of his imperfections and mistakes. Just like those parents who sacrificed everything for their children and loved them despite of their wrongdoings and weaknesses, we must learn to unconditionally love those important people in our lives to avoid regrets in the end. I also realized that love is powerful to the extent that it can conquer anything and change bad habits into good ones.