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stillness-in-green · 1 year ago

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On Heteromorphs and Heteromorphobia (Arc XV - My Villain Academia)

(Skewing away from the wiki arc titles here, because come the eff on; everyone on god's green earth calls this My Villain Academia, not "The Meta Liberation Army Arc.")

At the request of a kind asker, I'm trying something different with footnotes this time; you'll find them at the end of the relevant bullet point, rather than at the bottom of the post. I've also flagged the numbers in purple, though I left the text itself the default color. I hope people find that a little easier to handle than having to scroll all the way to the bottom, have two tabs open, or wait until the end when they've forgotten the context.

Content Warning: Mentions of the KKK, as well as anti-Korean hate crimes/speech in Japan.

The My Villain Academia Arc (Chapters 218-240)

Chapter 218:

Tsuyu’s weakness to cold is noted in-canon, rather than in a volume extra profile.

All of the people featured specifically in the Detnerat commercial are heteromorphs—a four-armed woman, a walrus gent, and a little gelatinous boy. Re-Destro pontificates about how people with these “newer types of bodies” struggled in the new era because they couldn’t find products that would meet their daily needs; mass production was not equipped—could never really be equipped—to handle the endless variety of body shapes and sizes that came about due to the Advent of the Extraordinary. It recollects the mall scene back in Chapter 68—or, even further back, Ojiro’s character sheet and UA’s lack of varied desks—and calls the reader to consider, once again, the sorts of special needs that those with heteromorphic bodies might have, and how difficult it can be to meet those needs. RD says that his company’s ability to rapidly customize and produce unique goods for every customer has made them #1 in their industry (lifestyle goods). Assuming there’s at least some truth to the commercial shpiel—and the newscaster does at least call Detnerat “a big player”—it suggests that plenty of other companies are not so good at the rapid+customizable combination. Of course, not all companies are trying to be all things to all people, but specialization costs money—as do speed and customization, really, and note that nowhere in the commercial is there a talking point about affordability! So mainly what the commercial leaves me wondering is what degree of inconvenience is still felt by heteromorphs, especially those who are somewhat cash-strapped. That strikes me as a particular hazard when it comes to child bullying. Of course, Japanese schools have uniforms, but I wonder how available tailoring and alterations are for students with particular needs? Is there a provided budget for that sort of thing? Financial aid? How much did Ojiro’s parents have to pay for him to have a full set of uniform pants with a hole for his tail in them? How about Shouji getting all his uniform tops made sleeveless? What arrangements had to be made for Shouto’s gym uniform to be fire retardant? Even setting uniforms aside, there are also their social lives outside of school to consider. Kids will absolutely notice when one of their number wears the same clothes all the time, or home-made clothes instead of name brand, or with obvious patchwork and repair. As in real life, it’s at the intersections of more than one type of disadvantage—in this case, a heteromorphic body combined with a low-income family—that problems become more likely.

Here in 218, almost fifty chapters after the first mention of them, we finally get the proper introduction and explanation of the Meta Liberation Army. Of course, they aren’t heteromorph-specific—the closest any of the named commander-types in RD’s inner circle get is Curious, with her bright blue skin and black sclera,[1] though certainly Re-Destro himself has drifted somewhat away from baseline compared to his ancestor. Regardless, their foundational belief is the deregulation of quirks, stemming from a time when any deviation from the norm made meta-humans targets. The compromise society reached—that quirks require a license to use—is restricting enough on those whose abilities are found with a baseline body, but, as I’ve brought up before, it makes life even more potentially fraught for heteromorphs. That kind of thing is basically a pre-written excuse for heroes or police to stop and harass a heteromorph they don’t like the look of! And while the evidence of that kind of bias has been pretty circumstantial thus far, it’s about to get way, way less so. [1] Wacky hair colors being somewhat de rigueur in anime, we’ll give her a pass on the purple hair.

Chapter 220:

Here we finally hit the major leagues: the Creature Rejection Clan, or CRC. The Japanese is igyou haiseki shugi shuudan, with igyou and shuudan being pretty straightforward—igyou is, of course, “heteromorph,” and shuudan is any sort of organized or self-identifying group of people, anything from a family unit to a business organization, even all the way up to a nation. Haiseki shugi is the important bit, with shugi meaning “doctrine; principle” and haiseki meaning “rejection; expulsion; boycott; ostracism.” Thus, “group whose doctrine is the rejection of heteromorphs.”[2] Note that, in the Japanese, the word in the group’s name is heteromorph; they didn’t pick something more insulting or derogatory. They didn’t really need to, since igyou is, as discussed back in the introduction to this piece, plenty derogatory all on its own. So Caleb Cook went with a translation of igyou that would better get that derisiveness-in-the-context-of-a-hate-group across than his choice way back in Chapter 14. Creature Rejection Clan is a fairly localized translation, but Cook was pretty frank in his Twitter thread on the chapter that he was thinking about the KKK when he made the decision. And it’s not an unwarranted comparison! Of course, I wouldn’t think to presume Horikoshi’s that up on the history of racism in the U.S., but combine the cod-religious trappings and the full robes and hoods with an explicit textual description of hate crimes, and it’s an extremely easy parallel to draw. [2] The Japanese also gives the abbreviation of CRC, with the databook eventually coming out and revealing that it really stands for the name they’ve chosen for themselves in English, the Curious Rejection Committee.

That established, it’s notable that Spinner, in describing them, says that they commit hate crimes against “people with heteromorphic quirks”—a nearly word-for-word translation of the Japanese igyou-gata no ningen. This leaves aside the idea I’ve spent so much time talking about, that heteromorph discrimination is aimed broadly at those with heteromorphic bodies, and not only those with the more narrowly defined heteromorphic quirks. Shortly, however, I’ll cover some evidence that Spinner is over-generalizing, or just misinformed.

In the meantime, take note of a few things the CRC guys[3] actually say here, starting with the fact that they call Spinner a lizard. Instantly, a word that was previously a snippy and dismissive little shrug in Dabi’s mouth takes on the weight and ugliness of a slur. Further, they call the League of Villains “sins against nature”—or, in a more literal translation, “impure criminals.” I provide the more literal translation there because it’s more specific. My immediate question of the English translation would be whether the CRC judge the League as being sins against nature simply because of their criminality, or because of their association with Spinner, but the Japanese makes clear that there are two separate labels being flung there: the League are both criminals and impure. This idea of impurity brings in a religious dimension to heteromorphobia, a dimension heightened by the line (dropped by the English translation) in which the CRC accuses the League of invading a sanctuary—in Shinto, shrines have to be kept pure. The CRC calling their hideout a sanctuary, with the added context of, “They have a lizard with them. How disgusting,” thus makes it pretty clear that the impurity is about Spinner’s presence, not just the League’s assorted crimes. This spiritualistic justification for bigotry will later be made even more explicit in Shouji’s flashbacks. [3] With skull masks right there on their hoods! A real, “Are we the baddies?” moment, but given some of the other things we get on them later, it's possible the skulls are meant to contrast what e.g. Spinner or Koda’s skulls might look like: baseline human versus animalistic or “misshapen.” Credit to @codenamesazanka for connecting the dots on that!

Spinner also gives us here the line that I covered back in the terminology section at the beginning:

We’ll go with the official version this time.

So here we have the observation that the word absolutely everyone uses, the word that, as far as we know, academically defines an entire category of quirks, is an unpleasant, even rude word. But what is the alternative? We’re never given one. Indeed, Spinner doesn’t suggest one; he says that the nice thing to do is “avoid” the word instead. In other words, talk around it. See again what I said at the start about all the difficulties baked into that prospect.

Later, we get the first drops of Spinner’s backstory, and hit again on the “lizard” thing, with the note that Spinner’s backwater, stuck-in-the-last-century hometown called him “the lizard freak.” He grew up with it, grew accustomed to it, thought there was nothing he could do to change it—he might even have internalized it somewhat, though clearly by the time Chapter 160 rolled around he was ornery enough about it to complain. It's perhaps also notable that Spinner knows who the CRC are. Though we’ll later find out that their numbers have hugely diminished, he not only recognizes them, he’s not even surprised to see them—unlike many, Spinner knows the CRC never truly went away. (Compare his lack of reaction to, for example, Shouji's unsuspecting classmates, who will later be shocked, just shocked, that this kind of ugliness still exists in their country.) So just to state the obvious here, yes, the presence of active hate groups does irrevocably shift the lens on everything we’ve seen up to this point. You can’t say calling a heteromorph an animal is harmless, a little insensitive at worst, maybe even meant as a cute nickname, when that same language is used by openly violent bigots.

The volume version gives us, at the end of the chapter, further notes on the CRC. It’s full of relevant tidbits, so I’ll provide the text in its entirety:

Once superpowered society grew more stable and less chaotic, this group emerged, based around a lack of acceptance for those with body-altering quirks. They started out with demonstrations and protests but eventually started committing violent hate crimes. Most felt this was taking things too far, so the group saw a sharp decline in membership and a scattering of factions. These days, one faction might only reject people with animal properties, while another focuses its hate on people with irregular heads. These two, among others, have very few members left. The faction that Tomura and the villains attacked was one that stood by the original group's fundamental tenets.

So what is there to gather from this? Let’s break it down a point at a time.

“Once superpowered society grew more stable (...)” If you’ve ever lived through a time of increasing acceptance for a marginalized group, particularly if that acceptance involves measures for legal protections being passed, you’ll recognize what this is. Just to pick a few U.S. examples, the KKK didn’t exist until after the Civil War;[4] proactive federal bans on same-sex marriages didn’t start getting passed/proposed until individual U.S. states started legalizing them and civil unions. When opposition to something is the norm, said opposition often doesn’t start organizing until they see that status quo being threatened; they weren’t organized before because they never imagined they’d need to be! That’s what we see with the CRC: they didn’t formally declare themselves until it started looking like quirks—and especially non-baseline quirks—were going to find legal acceptance. [4] Literally. The last day of the war was May 26, 1865; the date the first Klan was founded was December 24 of the same year. Easily the most vile thing I learned in the process of writing this piece.

“(…) based around a lack of acceptance for those with body-altering quirks.” This is what I was referring to when I said Spinner's characterization of the CRC might be a little bit off: the CRC wasn’t founded because of a hatred for specifically heteromorphic quirks; they were founded because of a hatred for different bodies, a descriptor that could also apply to those with transformation-style quirks! Those, too, are quirks that alter bodies, after all; it’s just possible for people to turn them off, which is not the case for those with heteromorphic quirks. So Spinner was not quite on the mark before. Further, note that the phrase “body-altering quirks” is used here—a phrase that’s similar in meaning and much less othering than igyou. It doesn’t fully cover everything I use “heteromorphic” and “non-baseline” to cover, in that it’s still murky in situations like e.g. Cementoss’s, where his emitter quirk is entirely independent of his oddly shaped head, but it’s still a useful term! Except for the small complication of where it isn’t found: anywhere in the actual story. The fact that Horikoshi uses it in an author’s note, but it comes up nowhere in BNHA proper, puts it in an unclear place as far as in-universe alternatives go. Has it just not come up because Horikoshi hasn’t thought to include it? Or has it not come up because it’s not a phrase people in-universe use?

“They started out with demonstrations and protests but eventually started committing violent hate crimes. Most felt this was taking things too far, so the group saw a sharp decline in membership and a scattering of factions.” Confirmation here of what Spinner said about the CRC and hate crimes, but note what this doesn’t say: that the CRC was outlawed. There are, I suspect, a couple of factors influencing that. o Firstly, while Japan has legal methods to restrict undesirable organizations,[5] making it difficult for them to raise funds or engage in publicity, the country doesn’t actually de facto criminalize membership in such organizations. That distinction is part of the legacy of violent crackdowns on labor groups and protest movements in the first half of the 20th century; people tend to get very loud about anything that whiffs of the government trying to give itself the power to get that heavy-handed again. Assuming that the laws haven’t changed overmuch in HeroAca!Japan, then, I wouldn’t expect membership in the CRC to have been criminalized outright, but the volume extra doesn’t mention any kind of legal repercussions at all. That, I think, may go more to my next point. [5] The relevant laws are aimed mostly at terroristic groups or organized crime. o Secondly, another thing Japan has very, very little of is hate crime legislation. From my research, there are only two laws of any note: a federal law passed in 2016 and widely regarded as toothless thanks to it lacking any criminal provisions targeting offenders,[6] as well as a local ordinance passed in Kawasaki in 2019 that went as far as mandating fines against repeat offenders, among other measures.[7] [6] It required the government to start “implementing measures” to eliminate such speech/behaviors, as well as to “respond to requests for consultation” from victims, but did not directly mandate consequences for offenders. [7] I suspect from some of what I read that Osaka has picked up a similar ordinance, but I didn’t find anything detailing it specifically. Osaka and Kawasaki are home to the largest and second-largest population of Koreans living in Japan. One major thing neither of these measures did, though—and something activists have been pressing for—is to establish standards for considering discriminatory motivations when issuing sentences against those who have committed violent crimes. To pick an example that made the news last year, a man committed arson out of openly admitted hatred for the Koreans he targeted, but nowhere in the trial or discussion of his sentence did the prosecution ever bring up discrimination.[8] [8] https://mainichi.jp/english/articles/20220829/p2a/00m/0na/015000c Also, it’s worth noting that both of these measures were aimed at ethnic discrimination—speech and behavior targeting people living in Japan while being themselves, or being children of, people of non-Japanese ethnicities. They did not address discrimination based on e.g. religion or sexuality. Folding both of those points together, the image we have of the CRC is of a violent hate group whose existence is regarded as perhaps distasteful and extremist, but not actually illegal. Even what few laws Japan has now wouldn’t have applied to anti-heteromorph discrimination, because, while they may look wildly different from a prototypical Japanese person, heteromorphs still are Japanese, and therefore not protected by a law based solely around ethnic discrimination. Incidentally, the ordinance in Kawasaki laid out a number of specific examples of the kind of behavior it was looking to address, and one of those examples was likening victims to something other than human. I know why that was included in the context of anti-Korean sentiments,[9] but it certainly does shade e.g. Dabi calling Spinner a lizard more harshly to know that there’s legal precedent for categorizing such dehumanizing language as hate speech. [9] An extremely common form of anti-Korean hate speech in Japan is to refer/allude to Koreans as cockroaches.

“These days, one faction might only reject people with animal properties, while another focuses its hate on people with irregular heads.” This is a good echo of the sort of factionalization you see in organized religion, wherein the minutiae of tenets that seem similar to an outside eye are the topic of vicious, vehement inter-group debate. More to the point, however, it provides an excellent illustration of the senselessness of bigotry. They can’t even keep their own discriminatory dogma straight! Probably the second most common complaint about the story’s use of heteromorphobia—after calling it retconned-in bullshit that didn’t exist until Chapter 220—is that it’s illogical, that it makes no sense to judge people because they look a little different in a world where everyone is now a little different from the way we see the world. And I wonder if the people who say that are listening to what they’re saying. “Illogical bias that has no foundation in reality is unrealistic?” What do these people think bigotry is? Racism, sexism, xenophobia, ableism, religious discrimination, all the many different shades of queerphobia: all of these are built on foundations of fear and hate for people who are fundamentally still as human as anyone else, yet they all exist, and have existed, and will go on existing for quite some many years still. Because irrational hatreds are, by definition, irrational. Heteromorphic discrimination is the most realistic societal dynamic in the entire series! That little rant aside, I also want to highlight the first group in the excerpt above—people with animal properties. Check any talk on the theme of, “So you can believe dragons but not black people in fantasy?” and you’ll run into the ways people are much more ready to suspend their disbelief for full-on fantasy than for something that, rightly or wrongly, pings them as incorrect, and it’s easy to imagine animal-associated heteromorphs running into a similar issue: it’s fine for people to just look weird, but looking like an animal, that’s bad and unnatural. A heteromorph who just looks like nothing in particular other than “non-baseline” is not evoking the baggage of animal anthropomorphization and cultural animal symbolism that someone who looks like a bird, a lizard, a dog, an orca, etc. is.

Chapter 223:

Shigaraki refers to Gigantomachia as a gorilla. It’s debatable how much this is of a piece with Dabi calling Spinner “Lizard”—Machia’s only actual animal quirk is Mole, not anything simian, nor is Machia particularly ape-like in anything other than his large size—but it does stand out to me that Spinner, who we know to have strong opinions about animal epithets, just refers to Machia by name or as “the big guy.”

Chapter 224:

Mr. Compress calls Machia “our pet gorilla”; see note above.

Chapter 226:

Curious introduces the idea of quirk counselling, telling us that its goal is to align people to a unified understanding of how the world and society work, but that it’s flawed in that it winds up emphasizing peoples’ differences instead. The advisor at the hospital raid will include quirk counseling in his litany of grievances, so I’ll discuss its possible utilization against heteromorphs more there, but for now, recall that I talked previously about how quirk-based behavioral tics might vary from person to person by comparing Hound Dog with Sansa. With that in mind, it’s not a big reach that some heteromorphs might run into similar problems with quirk counselling.

There are a good number of what appear to be heteromorphs through the Curious fight; whatever the MLA’s core views on quirk supremacy, the organization self-evidently makes ample room for heteromorphs, even if, like e.g. the red panda guy in the crowd jumping Toga inside the noodle joint, they don’t seem to have any other stand-out powers beyond the fur and fangs.

Chapter 229:

Twice notes in his flashback that something about his eyes always rubbed people the wrong way, scared them. We’ll eventually see this same thing with Tenko on the street—a totally normal-looking child, but the look on his face scares people away even more than the blood. And I can’t help but think, “If even a totally baseline person’s eyes can creep people out, how much easier—and more extreme—is that reaction for the more out-there sort of heteromorph?”

Gori makes the tiniest of cameos in Twice’s flashback, playing backup off to the side when we will, in current times, find him having worked his way up to the interrogation chair himself.

Chapter 230:

Geten brings us quirk supremacy via his understanding of the MLA’s goals. It’s hard to say how accurate this is, since the MLA leadership is inconsistent on what exactly their vision of Liberation entails. Whatever it is, it certainly doesn’t seem to dissuade the MLA’s own heteromorphs, though of course there’s a big difference between how e.g. Spinner or Ojiro versus Gang Orca or Mirko would fare in a societal quirk free-for-all. Likewise, the MLA is a cult, so one can’t discount the likelihood of double-think in its members.

Chapter 232:

Re-Destro talks about the state of the country in Destro’s infancy, a period in which metahumans suffered “constant abuse—blatant discrimination.” Merely for speaking out that her child was just like everyone else—that his special power was just a quirk—Destro’s mother was killed by an anti-meta mob. This gives us further evidence of the violence metahumans faced. Of course, in that time, the hate wasn’t distinguishing between types of quirk, but with that being said, an emitter and a transformer can still hide the truth about themselves with far more ease than heteromorphs—recall All Might’s discussion about the early days of quirks back in Chapter 59, in which the panel showing four people with quirks contained only one baseline person. It would be entirely unsurprising for an outsized number of the metahumans killed in those days to be heteromorphs.

Chapter 233:

The confrontation between Trumpet and Spinner gives us Trumpet clucking about Spinner having a weak meta-ability—Gecko lets him cling to walls, and that’s about it. It’s a striking contrast to someone like Mirko or Gang Orca, or even Tsuyu, all of whom have some combination of big power moves and a veritable fleet of sub-abilities. We can see the way Hero Society prizes powerful, flexible quirks in this. Having a strong quirk can help overcome the societal bias about heteromorphs, but if you’re stuck with a weak quirk and a weird face, you lack that metaphorical ticket out.[10] [10] Incidentally, the fandom reflected some of that attitude as well. There was a widespread assumption that Spinner’s quirk would be really useful or situationally powerful, otherwise why would Horikoshi have hidden it for as long as he did? Then, after the reveal, there was a certain amount of complaining that Spinner was useless to the League, and why even bother with him? Sometimes, life imitates art in some very unflattering ways.

Trumpet brings up that Spinner was a recluse, “mocked and pilloried,” and we see Spinner in his hikikomori days. What we’ve gotten on Spinner up to this point suggests that the abuse he endured was mostly verbal, though one can imagine it was pretty rough when he was young enough to be the target of school bullies. There’s a certain amount of temptation to minimize that in comparison to his response: most people who are bullied or targeted by discrimination don’t grow up to become terrorists. But there was, we will eventually find, more visceral stuff going on—and parts of the country that were even worse than Spinner’s hometown.

Spinner spent most of his life trying to fit himself into the world around him; his strongest parallel in the League in this regard is Toga, as they were the two that held themselves back, let the world define what they were and how they should act, right up until they saw something that caused them to snap.[11] Trumpet tries to do much the same to Spinner here (albeit probably less as an intentional psychological attack than Skeptic’s attempts on Twice), but Spinner, like Toga, is long past the point where he would swallow that abuse without fighting back. When you tell someone they are something long enough, they eventually start to believe it—but if you aren’t careful, they’ll start to embrace it, at which point those weaponized words change hands. [11] Shigaraki and Dabi, by contrast, pushed back harder, trying to get the world to accept them and never accepting it when their families (and particularly their fathers) told them to stop. Twice was ejected without getting the chance to try to contort himself into a shape that fit the world, whereas Mr. Compress seems to have been raised to reject his society's accepted norms from the start.

Chapter 234:

We see an image excerpted from Quirks and Us, a children’s book published by Curious’s outfit, that exhorts the reader not to judge people by their quirks. It really, really begs the question, “If this is what’s being said in literature published to coax people towards anti-suppression radicalism, what on Earth is normal society saying?” Regardless of that absolutely wild disparity, though, the fact that there are children’s books being published about quirk bias being wrong suggests that the world very much does have a problem with quirk bias. Indeed, that much has been shown throughout the series, not merely in terms of anti-heteromorph bias, but also the bias against “villain quirks,” as well as the widespread idea that people with weak quirks—or no quirks at all—are weaker people overall, pitiable folk who lack the power to live their fullest lives or pursue their dreams unhindered.[12] People on more than one of these axes of discrimination will, as in real life, be more likely to experience discrimination and violence. [12] Villains like All For One and Geten may say it more loudly, but it’s not only villains who believe it—perfectly good-hearted people like All Might and Midoriya Inko fall into that trap as well.

Chapter 237:

Nothing much to say about Shigaraki’s flashbacks save to note that, if people won’t stop to help a lost and bloodied (and baseline) child, they sure as hell won’t intervene in anti-heteromorph bullying. Recall that Kirishima was accused of sticking his nose where it didn’t belong for trying!

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Thanks as ever for reading along, everyone! How was the new footnote format? Should I keep that up for lengthy meta going forward?

I was kind of expecting to be able to wrap this up (the main canon, at least) in one more post, but I underestimated the amount of writing I'd be doing for the first war arc. For next time, then, I'm looking to cover the Endeavor Agency, Paranormal Liberation War, and Dark Hero Villain Hunt arcs. See you all then!

#bnha #heteromorph discrimination plot #bnha worldbuilding #bnha meta #my writing #creature rejection clan #tw racism #tw hate crime #bnha spinner #iguchi shuuichi #meta liberation army

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sammysdewysensitiveeyes · 2 years ago

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The Spyke post

Since actually watching all of X-Men Evolution, I've been meaning to write a post about Evan Daniels, aka Spyke, aka Sir Not Existing in the Comics.

Spyke is a character created for the Evolution cartoon, with no apparent model in the comics, although his powers of manifesting bone "spikes" out of his body are very similar to Marrow's. He's also Storm's nephew.

Look at this adorable little guy:

I commend the writers for adding a new character and actually making him part of the main cast, something that I don't think has really happened since Firestar in Spiderman and His Amazing Friends. (Although maybe people know of other examples that I missed). Morph in TAS was originally there to die, and they were basically a replacement for Thunderbird when the writers realized that killing off the only Native American on a mostly white team wasn't a great look. (And Morph actually was based on a comics character, the obscure and mostly forgotten shape-shifter Changeling.) Harley Quinn was created to be a Joker sidekick in Batman TAS. The Batman cartoon gave her some good character development, and she later blew up and because wildly popular, but that wasn't the original intent.

So, who is Spyke? He's a nice, easy-going and fun-loving teenager, who can get a bit competitive and isn't always super responsible, but he's basically a good kid. He loves to skateboard, and was first set up as a kind of rival to Quicksilver, although that didn't really last. He is also Storm's nephew, which means that he has to deal with a parent-like figure looking over his shoulder on the team. He is also the character who seems the most uncertain about joining a mutant team. In his first appearance, Evan is not an unknown mutant, Storm knows about his powers, and is visiting him to talk to him about joining Xavier's school, while Evan seems to prefer normal teenage high school life. His powers exist, but he doesn't necessarily want them to define his life (although he can't always perfectly control them.)

This uncertainty about being an X-Man seems to be a consistent trait whenever there's an episode focused on Evan - he will be lax about his training or responsibilities, and have to reaffirm his commitment to the team. The problem I have with this is that it's a personality trait that mostly only comes up during a Spyke episode. In other character-focused episodes, Spyke is right there showing up for training or to help in fights. He hangs out with the other characters, jokes with them, shows support. But in "African Storm," the episode where Spyke is nearly kicked off the team for a lack of dedication, he seems to think he has no friends at the school.

I think the writers dropped the ball somewhat with Spyke, and he didn't really get the same kind of development and attention that the other characters got - except in the Spyke episodes, when we are reminded again that he exists. Other characters started getting paired up in cute (often shippable) ways, like Rogue and Cyclops, Kitty and Kurt, Kitty and Lance, etc. But who was Evan's best friend on the team? Who did he hang out with? Did he have a crush on anyone? We don't know, because we mostly didn't see it. If Evan was paired up with anyone, it was either Pietro (in their quickly dropped "rivalry,") or his Auntie O. He'll be there hanging out with the other characters and showing up as part of the team, but we don't get a lot of one-on-one bonding with team-mates. Maybe this was also part of Evan's personality. He seems like a very independent kid who doesn't want to ask for help - and when his powers start mutating beyond his control, so that he can not longer pull his bone spikes back into his body, he tries to handle it himself and doesn't confide in anyone. But it also feels like Spyke frequently being an afterthought in any episode that isn't specifically about him.

I especially had a problem with "African Storm," where Spyke is going to be kicked off the team and sent home because he isn't showing up for danger room practice and his grades aren't great. Beast even suggests to Storm that Evan might be "unreachable," even though Evan was the one who reached out to Beast when Beast was on a rampage, by reciting Shakespeare to him (and I wish writers had done more with that relationship). And throwing Evan out over poor performance (even though he's always showed up for fights and done well when it counts) seems rather unfair when other characters have done much worse. Some of the New Mutant kids were joyriding in the Blackbird and could have killed both themselves and other people on the ground, but they didn't get kicked out. Boom Boom nearly killed Kurt by being careless in a training exercise, ignored her punishment and didn't learn any kind of lesson, and was still told she'd be welcome back any time when she ran off to join the Brotherhood. But Evan's gonna get kicked out for bad grades?

I did like the Spyke storyline when he goes to join the Morlocks, even though it was kind of "putting him on a bus," and took him out of the main cast. The kid who didn't want to be defined by his mutant powers wound up having to leave mainstream society and live underground because his bone spikes mutated out of control, covering his entire body (and making his mutation obvious). Spyke joined the Morlocks in part because he saw a society of mutants that no one was really sticking up for, and wound up becoming their protector. Thankfully, Spyke also gets included in the final season Apocalypse storyline when the X-Men are rounding up everyone for help, and is shown having rejoined the X-Men in the future, so he wasn't completely written off.

I wish we'd gotten Spyke imported into the comics. There was an X-Statix character called Spike with similar powers, who was also a young Black man, but he had a completely different name and background. Also, he was kind of a jerk and was killed off (to be fair, most of X-Statix were kind of jerks, and a lot of them got killed off). I'd rather have actual Evan Daniels, teenage skateboarder, whether he's officially Storm's nephew or not.

Anyway, Spyke is great, and I wish we'd gotten one more "Spyke-cam" episode where we see everything filmed from his perspective. Spyke nowadays would absolutely have a GoPro and be filming skate-boarding videos.

#spyke #evan daniels

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jinkoh · 1 year ago

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pentagon x gn!reader

summary: you unexpectedly fall into a strange world and quickly find yourself entangled with its peculiar people—as well as their problems.

tags: alice in wonderland au, multiple routes for several members, a little madness; warnings: non-graphic descriptions of violence, mentions of blood and weapons, cruel characters (but also very sweet and fun ones—this au is less dark than it sounds...probably)

wordcount: ~13,8k

a/n: okay so this kinda became a really really huge project that i've been working on for a while and that i am very attached to so ofc i'd be really excited if you gave it a try hehe i didn't stick very close to the original material so don't be too surprised. in case you want to know who is who from the get go you can check out the character introduction, but they also all get introduced bit by bit~ do heed the warnings before reading!

series masterlist // character introduction // ptg masterlist

The weather had been weird for days now, heavy clouds hanging in the purplish sky and a constant drizzle making puddles form in the streets. The Uncle from the car shop on the first floor said it was an omen; that something bad was approaching. Your landlady called him crazy and said it just needed a proper thunderstorm and the sunny weather would be back. But she didn’t like him much to begin with and if he wasn’t such a good tenant, for whatever that meant, she would have thrown him out long ago. You didn’t really care much for her idle talk. You were somewhat fond of the Uncle, even more so since your cat Humpty Dumpty seemed to have taken a liking to him too, visiting him in his shop, whenever he managed to sneak out of your third floor apartment.

So, when the Uncle told you to be careful in this weird weather and to keep an extra watchful eye on Humpty for the time being, you’d meant to heed his advice.

You must have had a moment of inattention though, because when you came home after getting groceries you found your small flat to be empty. You’d forgotten to close the bathroom window and he must’ve snuck out from there. With a sigh you set the groceries down in the kitchen area before stepping out again, hoping that maybe he was just in the car shop downstairs.

You were lucky, finding the brown animal curled up on the roof of a beige vintage car, while the Uncle himself was working beneath the car, only his legs poking out.

“Here to pick up your cat?” He asked, without coming out.

“He slipped out again,” you replied while picking Humpty up from his spot that must have been incredibly comfortable if his unsatisfied meowing was anything to go by. “Thanks for keeping an eye on him.”

The man laughed. “Felt more like he was keeping an eye on me, honestly.”

You nodded even though he couldn’t see you, watching a little longer.

“That’s a nice car,” you commented, more to make polite conversation than anything else. You didn’t actually know anything about cars, but you did think it was a pretty one with the little hood ornament resembling the shape of an M.

“Yeah, it’s a nice one. A Ford Mercury Monarch, though I doubt you’ve suddenly taken a big interest in cars, have you?”

“Not really.” You chuckled, feeling caught. Of course he’d know that you were just being polite. “Still, it’s kinda pretty.”

“Mhm,” he hummed.

Humpty started to fidget in your arms and you knew it was time to head upstairs if you didn’t want him to scratch you.

“I better go back.”

“Mhm,” he hummed again and you were about to leave, when he pushed himself out from under the car and eyed you seriously.

“Remember to be careful, y/n,” he reminded you once more. “I think there’ll be a storm tonight.”

Somehow the way he said it felt insinuating and sent a weird shiver down your spine.

You swallowed around the lump in your throat.

“I’ll remember it.”

With a weary feeling in your stomach you left his shop, slipping back out into the rain. The building you lived in was an old factory that had been turned into several loft apartments and the commercial property downstairs. A bunch of the complexes in your neighborhood were like that which gave the area a certain charme when the sun was shining onto the red brickstones and reflecting from the big, old windows. When it rained like now though, the sky above dark and grey, the tall buildings almost looked intimidating.

Just when you wanted to turn towards the entrance door next to the shop to head upstairs, you saw a white shadow rushing through your peripheral vision. Your head instinctively snapped around, and you clearly hadn’t been the only one to notice. Humpty all but leaped out of your arms, chasing the white shadow down the street which seemed to be—a rabbit?

For a moment you were frozen in place, watching your beloved fur ball disappear down the street. But then you snapped out of it, running after him as fast as you could.

Sadly, it wasn’t fast enough to catch up to him and to make things worse the Uncle had been right about the storm. The rain was picking up and you heard thunder rumbling in the distance.

Eventually you found yourself in a side street, no trace of either the cat nor the rabbit. Humpty had never been one to come back when called, but you tried anyway, shouting out his name, the brick-lined house walls echoing it back to you.

You knew Humpty would be able to find his way back home, but you didn’t like the idea of him outside in this weather by himself. So, you kept going, even when the rain got so strong you could barely see what was in front of you.

Feeling somewhat resigned, you turned into another side street, just to be met with the rabbit sitting right in the middle of the road, his bright white fur standing out against the gray surroundings. Humpty on the other hand was nowhere to be seen. But something inside of you told you that if you caught the rabbit, you would surely find him too.

The white animal watched you with calm eyes as you approached, and you almost thought you’d be able to grab it, when it bolted, disappearing behind a corner. You rushed after it, turning into the dead end just to find it deserted and almost completely flooded. The giant puddle seemed to reflect the sky above impossibly sharp, despite the raindrops rippling the surface. In the reflection it didn’t even look all that dark and cloudy, but before you could wonder about it more or bemoan the water drenching your shoes, you suddenly felt yourself stepping into a void, the floor beneath your feet simply disappearing. In a weird epiphany you realized it must have been a missing duct cover, but it wasn’t like that would help you now. You were already falling, dark water swallowing you whole.

When you came to, the first thing you realized was that you were cold and wet. You blinked your eyes open and pushed your damp hair out of your face. It didn’t make sense, you were sure you’d fallen down into the sewer, but you found yourself in the same dead end again, sitting in the middle of the giant puddle, completely drenched. At least the rain had let off and the sky was dyed in shades of pink and purple.

You felt for the opening in the ground that you’d fallen into with your hand, but the duct cover was right there. Confused, you tried to squeeze some water out of your clothes which was only so effective considering that you were still sitting in the puddle.

Just then, your eyes fell onto the white rabbit at the street corner he’d come from, looking at you almost thoughtfully. But then, as if he snapped himself out of a trance, his eyes widened.

“Oh no, oh no,” he mumbled, or you would have thought he did if it wasn’t impossible for a rabbit to speak. “Go back, quickly!”

“What?” you asked anyway, but the rabbit just turned and bolted off again.

“Time is running out.”

For a brief second you stared at the spot where he’d still sat a moment ago, but then you quickly stumbled to your feet and ran after him. You turned the corner just in time to see a man, not a rabbit, scurrying down the street. He had snow white hair, just like the bright fur of the rabbit, and it felt a bit too odd to be a coincidence. Especially with the pair of rabbit ears sitting right there on his head.

“Oh no, oh no,” you heard him again from the distance and even though none of this made any sense, you kept going after him.

Despite running until your lungs burned, you couldn't catch up to him. Maybe that was your sign to call it a day, you thought. Surely, Humpty had already made his way back home to your apartment by himself to escape the bad weather.

When you looked around though, you noticed that something about your neighborhood felt off. On first glance it was the same, but on second glance everything was different. All kinds of weird plants were overgrowing the pavement and crawling up the brick walls. There were no lights on behind the windows, no matter where you looked, nor was there any other trace of people.

Overcome with an eerie feeling you slowly made your way down the street in the direction of your home. The light of the street lamps looked colder than usual and they flickered in irregular intervals.

“I think you’re going the wrong way,” a voice behind you suddenly said matter of factly.

Startled, you turned around, looking right into the face of a young man with bright blue hair. He smiled and it was undeniably pretty, but it didn’t look entirely genuine.

“What do you mean?”

Instead of a reply he just shrugged and then seemed to disappear into thin air. You looked around, trying to understand where he’d gone, but he was nowhere to be found.

“What do you mean?” you repeated, your voice a little shaky.

“That the direction you’re going in is wrong.” He suddenly replied from right next to you.

“But I’m going home.”

“If you say so.” He giggled and it almost sounded childlike.

You felt yourself growing a little annoyed. “Then where am I supposed to go if not this way?”

“I won’t tell you.” With that he disappeared into thin air once more and you didn’t have it in you to feel surprised about it again.

“Fine,” you snapped in no direction in particular. “Then don’t tell me.”

You continued your way, but from time to time you still heard his giggles and little comments.

“So wrong,” he would say with a chuckle, his voice coming from one direction first and then another next.

“If you’re not going to tell me, then at least leave me alone!”

“But it’s funny,” he argued, suddenly appearing right in front of you, a wide smile plastered on his face. “It’s funny to see you run right into their fangs.”

“Whose fangs?”

“The Queen’s servants,” he whispered right into your left ear, before reappearing on your other side. “The heartlings.”

You frowned in confusion, all of this giving you a headache. None of it made any sense. You just wanted to go home, curl up in your bed and cuddle your cat. But you couldn’t help the weary feeling in your guts, telling you that there was at least some truth to the weird guy’s words.

“So, where would you go?”

“Oh, I can go anywhere,” he replied with a giggle. “They can’t catch me if they can’t see me, right?”

“And if you couldn’t turn invisible?”

“Hm,” he seemed to think for a moment. “Maybe I’d get myself a snack from the gas station?”

You looked at his vanishing form in utter disbelief. “A snack?”

“Or a coke, maybe.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Well, I’m not saying you should do that. But you asked me what I would do. And I gave you an answer.”

You felt so unbearably frustrated with whoever this guy was, and yet you still turned around and headed into the direction of the gas station. Maybe you’d get some answers there and if you didn’t you could at least buy a snack and a coke before going home.

When you reached the gas station it too wasn’t quite looking the way you remembered it to. Instead of the brand logo you were so familiar with, the pink neon sign showed an abstract symbol next to letters that you couldn’t read. Just like the rest of the neighborhood it seemed to be completely deserted, but at least the lights in the shop were on.

“Are you sure I can go in?” You asked, convinced the blue haired guy was still around.

“If the door isn’t locked you can,” he replied, his voice coming from further away than you’d expected.

You turned around to spot him sitting in the branches of a tree near the edge of the parking lot.

“Are you not coming along?”

“I doubt my presence would be appreciated.”

You frowned in confusion. “Why?”

“Because I don’t like to pick sides. Besides,” he hopped off the branches but disappeared before his feet hit the ground, just to stand in front of you a second later. “Cats aren’t welcome.”

He pointed towards a sticker on the glass door, a pictogram of a cat crossed out with a thick red line.

“But you’re not a cat,” you argued, following the gesture with your eyes before your gaze settled on him again.

“Am I not?” He tilted his head and a pair of grayish blue cat ears was sitting right there, poking out of his hair.

You stared at him flabbergasted. You knew for sure they hadn’t been there before. You would have noticed such a detail, wouldn’t you?

“Wha—how?”

“Because I’m a cat,” he replied as if it was common knowledge. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

With that, he vanished into thin air once more, the last thing you saw of him the bright white of his toothy smile.

“Wait! Am I supposed to go alone?”

“Weren’t you alone from the start?” sounded his reply, but he didn’t turn visible again.

“But what if I need help?”

“I’m sure you will.”

“So how will I know how to find you?”

He giggled. “Find me? You won’t. But should I ever be in the mood to help, I will certainly know how to find you.”

“Wait!” you tried to stop him once more, but it stayed quiet and you were sure he was gone for good this time.

You sighed, focusing your attention on the shop in front of you instead. Even on closer inspection you couldn’t spot anyone, but the staff door behind the cash desk was cracked open, so you assumed that someone was in the back.

With a deep breath you opened the glass door and stepped inside. It felt cramped with how closely the aisles stood together, maybe a little more so than usual. You looked around, hoping that the cashier would come out if you just waited a bit. You picked up a coke and a chocolate bar from the shelves, not because you were in the mood for either, but because the cat guy had mentioned it.

By the time you stepped to the counter and sat down the products on top there was still no sign of anyone coming out anytime soon, nor was there a bell to ring.

“Hello?” You timidly shouted in the direction of the door. “Hellooo?”

“Hello?” It suddenly echoed back from beyond. “Hellooo?”

You rolled your eyes at the staff’s humor. “I’d like to pay.”

“They’d like to pay,” it sounded back, but this time it didn’t seem to be addressed to you.

Before you could say anything else, the door opened and a guy with tousled red hair stepped out. For a moment he just eyed you thoughtfully but then he broke into a goofy smile that made a dimple form on his cheek.

“Welcome.”

“Uh, hi,” you replied awkwardly. “Do you work here?”

He wasn’t quite what you’d expected. Instead of the off-white t-shirts the staff here usually wore, he wore a sheer turtleneck in bright orange and a colorful silk shirt on top that he kept open. He absolutely didn’t look as if he was working here. Nevertheless, you couldn’t help but think that in some peculiar way, you found him attractive.

“Work here?” he repeated, sounding almost a little confused. “No, I don’t work.”

“Uh, then, is someone here who does?”

“Is anyone here who does?” he shouted towards the staff door, passing your question on.

“No, no one,” came the reply shortly after.

“The hare says no one is here.”

“Yeah, yeah, I heard.” You pinched the bridge of your nose slowly losing patience with whatever was going on today. “So, how do I pay?”

“Oh, with money.”

“With—forget it.”

“All forgotten.” He nodded with a bright smile. “Anything else I can help you with?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. I was just looking for my cat and then got into this whole,” you gestured vaguely at your surroundings, “mess.”

“A cat?” His face crinkled with disgust. “Not a blue one, is it? That scoundrel is not allowed in here.”

“Blue? No, Humpty Dumpty is brown.”

“Humpty Dumpty is an egg.”

“What?”

You shook your head in exasperation. “Anyway, so I was looking for my cat and then there was this rab—man?” It sounded more like a question.

“You’re looking for a man?”

“I guess you could say that.”

“Hm,” he looked around the store as if he could find him between the aisles if he just searched hard enough. Then he turned to the door once more.

“Changgu, do we have a man?”

“A man? No, no, we don’t have that.”

“I’m afraid we don’t have any in store,” he said apologetically.

“I’m not—I don’t want to buy one. I’m—he was running away. He had white hair and—rabbit ears? And he seemed to be in a hurry. Have you seen him?”

“Ah, you met Hui. Terrible workaholic, really.”

“Do you know where to find him? I think he knows where my cat is….maybe?”

At the word cat his face scrunched up once more, but he didn’t comment on it this time.

“I might know.”

“So, will you show me?”

“Now? I can’t. It’s tea time. In fact, maybe you should come in and have tea with us.”

You frowned in confusion. “But you don’t even know me?”

“Right,” he nodded. “Who are you?”

“Y/n.”

“Y/n. That is certainly a name,” he nodded once more. “I’m Shinwon. The Hatter.”

“A hatter?” You weren’t aware that it was a job that still existed. You’d assumed that the fast fashion industry had more or less let that handicraft die out. Furthermore, “You’re not even wearing a hat.”

“Not a hatter. The Hatter. And my hat—” for a moment he stared into the distance, a deep sadness in his eyes but then he snapped out of it, smiling like nothing happened. “That’s a story for another day.”

The sudden change in mood had piqued your interest, but you decided to respect his privacy and not pry into it further.

“And what is the Hatter doing in a gas station?”

“A gas station? I’ve never been to one.” He didn’t give you the time to question his words, already turning towards the door. “Now, let’s have some tea.”

Maybe it wasn’t the smartest idea to follow this guy to the back. He didn’t seem to be right in the head, though to be fair, you weren’t sure about your own sanity either. After all, you’d chased down a talking rabbit and then shared a walk with a man who seemed to be able to vanish into thin air. Perhaps, a mad hatter in a gas station was on the normal side of things in comparison.

The backroom didn’t look the way you’d expected, though at this point you weren’t sure what you were expecting anymore. The space was completely cluttered with chests and boxes, and all kinds of fabrics and curtains were draped throughout the room. In the middle of it all was a long table which was decked out with way too much dinnerware. In fact, the tea cups were stacked up so high, you almost didn’t notice the guy sitting in one of the mismatched chairs near the end of the table.

“I brought a guest,” Shinwon declared, pointing at you.

“A guest!” The guy jumped up from his chair with a dazzling smile.

Only now did you see the floppy ears that sat on his head, reaching down all the way to his shoulders. They were a light brown, the same shade as his wavy hair, and they looked so soft and fuzzy you kinda wanted to try petting them.

“Hi,” you awkwardly greeted, raising your hand in a small wave. “I’m y/n.”

“That is certainly a name,” the man replied with a nod and Shinwon next to you clapped excitedly.

“Right? That’s what I said.”

You didn’t know what to make of the comment so you decided to just ignore it. “And you are Changgu I assume?”

“Ah, where are my manners?” He rushed over, accidentally knocking some cups off the table that shattered on the floor.

“Yes, Hare, where are your manners?” Shinwon echoed.

“I’m Changgu. The March Hare,” he introduced himself, reaching out his hand to you, that barely poked out from underneath the sleeves of his plaid coat.

“The March Hare?”

He nodded, before leaning in closer as if he was about to share a secret.

“It’s because I’m as mad as one,” he whispered. “I don’t have both ears in the water.”

As if to prove his point he raised one of his ears and let it flop down again.

“It’s oars, Hare. You don’t have both oars in the water,” Shinwon corrected, before ushering you further into the room. “Now, let’s have some tea?”

He pulled back one of the chairs for you while he took the seat at the head of the table. You sat down and stared at the mess before you, unsure how to behave. It didn’t exactly look as if it was set for a tea party (or set at all, for that matter). You felt out of place and it didn’t help that your clothes were still wet. It had almost slipped your mind, but now that you were sitting you felt the damp fabric sticking to your skin again, leaving you with an itchy feeling.

“Tea?” Changgu, who’d taken the seat across from you interrupted your thoughts. He pushed a cup he’d poured in your direction. The other porcelain on the table got shoved out of the way on his quest but he didn’t seem to mind, not even when one of the higher stacks started to sway dangerously.

Unable to watch what was clearly going to end in disaster, you quickly took the cup with a “Thank you” and promptly received a bright smile in return.

Before you could take a sip of the steaming liquid though, Shinwon held out a plate with muffins to you, each one decorated with a small candle.

“Dessert? We also have cake,” he pointed at a ring cake somewhere in the mess. “And biscuits.”

“Then, a biscuit, perhaps?” You agreed reluctantly.

“A biscuit, Hare, quick, a biscuit for the biscuit!”

Changgu nodded eagerly, holding out another plate to you, and you took one of the cookies from it.

But you didn’t get to try that either, because all of a sudden the door was pushed open with so much force, it made you flinch and drop the cookie into your tea cup.

“Ah, not in the middle of tea time,” Shinwon complained, clearly annoyed but not surprised. “What does the Queen want now, Paul?”

For a moment you weren’t sure who he was talking to, but then you spotted the frog that was standing upright in the doorway, dressed in an outfit that resembled a Victorian newspaper boy.

“An invitation,” he croaked, taking a big leap right onto the table, porcelain clinking at the sudden impact. He fished out a piece of paper and handed it to Changgu who took it from his green fingers.

“We got it. Now, shoo, we’re having tea.” Shinwon gestured for the frog to leave with a wave of his hand. “Unless you fancy to join us for a cup?”

“Not particularly,” the frog replied, hopping off the table and disappearing to where he’d come from.

Changgu passed the paper onto Shinwon who took it with the tips of his fingers as if it was something disgusting.

“What is it?” You’d managed to catch a glimpse of the writing and once again had to realize that whatever alphabet it was, you couldn’t read it.

“A party invitation,” Shinwon replied, almost spitting out the words.

"Do you not like parties?"

At your question he broke into a laughter so intense as if it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard.

“Do I not like parties?” He turned to his friend in amusement "Did you hear that, Changgu?"

“Do you not like parties?” Changgu repeated, shaking from laughter himself, his ears flopping up and down at the movement.

You felt awkward and maybe a little upset that you once again weren't in on whatever the joke was.

“Well, do you?” You interrupted their laughter, light annoyance in your voice.

Shinwon's eyes were gleaming when he replied. “I love parties, Biscuit. I love them so much I celebrate all my unbirthdays every year.”

Changgu nodded hastily to support his point. “Every single one!”

“We’re celebrating one right this second.”

You didn't bother asking what an unbirthday was. “Then what’s so bad about this?”

Immediately, Shinwon's face turned dark again. “It's the Queen's party.”

“Then don't go.”

“Don't go, you say,” he repeated with another giggle. “No, we have to go. It's the Queen's party."

After a brief glance at a clearly broken cuckoo clock on the wall he sprung up with so much vigor, his poor chair fell over backwards and clattered to the floor. “In fact, we should go right now!”

Then his eyes got stuck on you.

“You're wet,” he commented as if he only just now noticed the sorry state of your clothes.

“I fell into a puddle.”

“Why would you do that?”

You frowned. “It’s not like it was on purpose.”

The side eye he exchanged with Changgu told you that he still considered it to be weird, but he let it rest.

“Either way you can't wear that to the party. The Queen hates bad fashion.”

“Oh, I won't go to the party, I wasn’t invited.”

Another rush of laughter overcame the two of them.

“It's the Queen's party,” Shinwon repeated yet another time. “Everyone is invited. Hare, don't we have some clothes for the child?”

“I'm not a child,” you argued but neither of them minded you.

“Maybe we have some in the dairy section.”

“Mhm-mhm,” Shinwon nodded thoughtfully and then disappeared into the shop only to show up a minute later with an odd looking suit that he handed to you. The fabric felt cold, as if it'd just come out of the refrigerator and the combination of colors and patterns seemed a little random. But it was still better than the damp clothes that were sticking to your skin uncomfortably, so you took the suit and changed into it while Shinwon and Changgu waited outside.

When you came out again, the two of them seemed to have cleaned up for the occasion as well: Shinwon had buttoned up his shirt and tamed his red hair while Changgu had added a black tie with red dots to his outfit. He hadn’t bothered to tuck it under the collar of his shirt though so it made him look more disheveled than before, but you didn’t point that out.

Shinwon eyed you intently, his brows furrowed as he took in every inch of you. Then he broke into a happy smile. “Oh, it suits you! Isn’t that right, Hare?”

“Exquisitely so!”

You weren’t sure about their assessment but their compliments still made you feel a little better in your skin.

The three of you stepped outside and you would have thought the sky would be pitch black by now, but it still had the same purplish pink colors as before.

“So, where is this party?” You asked as you walked down the street.

“The Red Castle,” Changgu supplied an answer that made you none the smarter.

“Of course,” you mumbled. “Where else would it be?”

Even though Shinwon had been less than ecstatic to go to the Queen’s party, he didn’t dwell on the bad mood. Him and Changgu giggled and goofed around on the way, most of their jokes going past you.

“I’d much rather go home,” you let out a small sigh, barely even noticing that you’d said it out loud.

Shinwon interrupted his laughter to turn to you. “Oh, that’s just the right mindset for attending this party. I too would much rather go home. But,” he playfully nudged your shoulder with his own, “when we all want to go home, it’s almost the same as actually going home.”

You didn’t a hundred percent get the point he was trying to make there, but his words felt comforting nevertheless. Perhaps it wasn’t his words per se, but the consoling smile on his lips and the genuine expression in his eyes.

You shook your head in amusement. “Let’s go home then.”

“Let’s go home!” he repeated with a wide grin, raising his fist into the air and making you giggle.

As you kept walking, you slowly realized though, that maybe that was quite literally where you were headed. You were only a block away from your house now, and the closer you came, the more lively it got on the streets that had still been empty a few hours ago. Approaching your home should have filled you with a sense of relief, but instead it just made you feel queasy.

Your bad feeling about it all proved to be there for a reason. When you turned into your street, you could barely recognize what used to be so known to you. The streetlights were decorated with a weird assortment of red flowers and warning tape, and the whole area was jammed with people (though you weren’t sure if people was the right word for the diverse assembly of beings, some more human than others but none that were human through and through) and at the center of it all seemed to be the tall factory building with its brick walls and the car shop on the first floor. It looked vastly different, the entire front of the building covered by a huge mural painting depicting roses that crawled up the walls, their stems carrying sharp thorns. Still, there was no mistaking it:

“That’s—that’s my house.”

“Oh, how fortunate,” Shinwon exclaimed gleefully. “You wanted to go home!”

“No, but—,” you interrupted yourself, not even sure what to say. Maybe it’d been a little delusional to believe your home would still be your home if nothing else seemed to have remained the same.

“You didn’t want to go home after all?” Shinwon nodded understandingly. “Then this is indeed unfortunate.”

“Very unfortunate,” Changgu agreed.

“I’m just so confused. Why is nothing the same as before?”

“Maybe that’s a question for a caterpillar,” Changgu replied seriously. “They are experts on things that do not stay the same.”

Before you could inquire how you were supposed to discuss this with a caterpillar of all things, you spotted a familiar pair of snow white ears in the middle of the crowd that disappeared as suddenly as they’d shown up.

Without thinking you chased after the white rabbit. You weren’t sure why you were still so keen on catching him. It didn’t seem very likely anymore that he knew where Humpty was. But he was the only one who had already been there when the world was still normal, so maybe he’d also know how to turn it back.

“Why are we running?” Shinwon asked behind you, sounding out of breath. You hadn’t noticed he’d come along.

“The rabbit!” You explained. “I saw the rabbit.”

“Why are we running?” Changgu shouted from behind Shinwon, following as you rushed through the crowd.

“The rabbit, they saw the rabbit,” Shinwon explained in your stead.

You almost expected to lose the rabbit in question again, but then he was suddenly standing right there, throwing a worried glance onto his wrist watch. You abruptly stopped in order not to run him over, causing Shinwon to bump into you. In your relief to have finally caught on, you didn’t pay it any mind though.

“Thank God,” you pressed out, catching your breath.

The man with the white rabbit ears turned to you, seemingly only noticing you now.

“Oh. Oh, no,” he looked a little distressed at your presence before his eyes wandered to your company in surprise. “And the Hatter?”

“And the Hare,” Shinwon added, pointing at Changgu who’d come to a stop behind him.

“So, what do you want?” The man asked, his eyes darting to his watch once more. “I’m in a hurry.”

Shinwon chuckled. “It’s good to take a break from time to time, Hui.”

“Of course, you would say that.”

“My cat,” you interrupted before their discussion could drag on. “Did you see my cat?”

“A cat?” He sighed. “I don’t have time for Yanan’s shenanigans."

“No, no,” Shinwon chimed in. “This cat is brown.”

“I don’t have time for a brown cat either,” Hui shook his head. “In fact, I don’t even have time for this party.”

With that he took off, quickly disappearing into the crowd again.

“Wait,” you shouted after him. You still hadn’t asked him about whatever was going on with the world around you, and he was probably the only person who could know something (and also the most sane one you’d met so far, despite his constant haste and his rather cold demeanor).

“Don’t take it to heart,” Changgu reassured. “In fact, he already lingered longer than usual. Sometimes we don’t hear from him for months. And he doesn’t even spare the time to celebrate his unbirthdays.”

You sighed in resignation. “Still, I had so many questions.”

“Even if he knows the answers, I doubt he has the time to give them,” Shinwon replied comfortingly, though it didn’t feel very comforting at all. “Caterpillars on the other hand have a lot of time.”

You didn’t get why Shinwon too was bringing up caterpillars now, but the two of them had been talking nonsense from the moment you’d met them so it was a little late to start overthinking it now.

Suddenly, the sound of a fanfare cut through the noise of the crowd.

“Oh, it’s beginning,” Shinwon exclaimed, grabbing your hand and pulling you further towards the front, until you were standing in the second or third row with a direct view on what used to be your home and was now something else entirely. "From here you can take a good look so you know whom to avoid."

"The Queen?" you asked for clarification.

"That too. But the Heartlings and Knave as well."

You remembered the former from when the blue cat had mentioned it before, but the knave was new. You didn't get to ask though, because the fanfare sounded again.

A frog, just like the one that had brought the invitation, was standing on a stack of tires in front of the garage door, a scroll in his hands that he unrolled solemnly. He cleared his throat twice before finally addressing the crowd.

“Your Majesty, the Queen of Hearts,” he announced, his voice way louder than you would have expected from a frog of his size.

The crowd cheered more or less enthusiastically and he hopped from the stack of tires. A pack of ferrets came to the scene, quickly pushing the tires to the side. The last one had barely scurried away, when the roller shutter of the garage started to open, slowly disclosing the shop beyond. For a while, all you got to see was the car that was parked right in the center. You recognized the vintage car immediately with its beige finish and the M shaped hood ornament. As the shutter had almost rolled all the way up, it finally revealed a person sitting on top of the car, in just the same spot that Humpty had taken a nap in earlier today. (At least you thought it was still today—with the sky not changing color at all, you were a little confused about the passage of time.)

To your surprise though, it wasn’t a Queen at all. Instead it was a guy with choppy blonde hair wearing a velvet tracksuit. His gaze was fierce and there was something captivating albeit intimidating about his aura. Still—

“Where’s the Queen?”

Instantly, the whole crowd fell silent.

The man in the velvet suit cocked his head, his eyes narrowing in on the guests. “Who asked that?”

Everyone around you took a step away, trying to gain some distance from you. Solely Shinwon and Changgu stuck to your side, but even they seemed a little uneasy. From your peripheral vision you spotted a man with wavy hair next to the garage door straightening out his posture. You hadn’t noticed him before, but he must have been there all along. He pushed back the fabric of his jacket a bit to reveal the grip of a gun that was tucked into the waistband of his pants. You didn’t understand what was happening, but you were smart enough to realize it wasn’t anything good. Your stomach was filled with dread and you instinctively reached out to Shinwon, your fingers clasping onto the hem of his shirt.

“Uh, oh, Biscuit,” he whispered close to your ear. “You’ve really done it now.”

“I said,” the man in the velvet suit started again, this time with more emphasis, as he leaped off the car roof in one smooth movement. “Who. Asked. That?”

The crowd seemed to budge even further away from you, leaving you easily exposed to the man who approached with striding steps.

“You?” His gaze landed on you, making you feel small and helpless. “It was you, wasn’t it?”

He took another step closer, close enough for you to spot the beauty marks on his face, close enough to notice the glow of his skin. “Tell me your name, dear.”

“Y/n,” you pressed out, your voice barely hearable.

“Y/n,” he repeated with a hum, almost as if he was tasting the sound of it on his tongue. “So, y/n, what were you thinking? What made you believe that I’m not worthy of being the Queen?”

The thoughts started circling in your mind. It was clearly a trick question; no matter what reply you presented him with, it would be wrong.

Thankfully though, you didn’t have to give one at all. Before you could even think of saying anything, you felt Shinwon leaning in close to your ear again.

“I’ve got this,” he whispered, stepping in front of you with confidence.

Anxiously, you glanced over to Changgu, who gently took your hand in his, mouthing a reassuring Don’t worry.

“Your Distinctiveness,” Shinwon greeted overly friendly, taking an exaggerated bow.

“Hatter,” the Queen replied, his face contorted in disgust.

“You see, my dear friend is new here,” he explained. “And to make matters worse, they have terrible vision, don’t you, Biscuit?”

You felt frozen, even more so now that the Queen's attention was back on you. It wasn’t until Changgu squeezed your hand, that you hurriedly nodded.

“Very terrible vision,” Shinwon repeated, his voice sounding pitying this time. “Can’t even tell right from wrong.”

“Is that so?”

The Queen didn’t seem convinced as he gave you another once over. You instinctively held your breath, as if that could protect you from his piercing gaze.

“Consider this a warning,” he eventually said, finally taking his eyes off you.

“And you, Hatter,” he turned to Shinwon, “educate your guests right. Wouldn’t want to lose any, hm?”

“Of course, your Noteworthiness; by no means, your Exquisiteness,” Shinwon nodded meaningfully.

“Good!” The Queen’s mood suddenly shifted. He clapped his hands and a grin spread on his lips. “Now, let’s celebrate, shall we?”

He strode back to the car, using stacked up tires to take a seat on the roof again like a Queen on her throne.

You let out the breath you’d been holding, relieved that you’d evaded whatever storm would have awaited you if Shinwon hadn’t been there. You gently tugged on his sleeve to get his attention.

“Thank you. You really saved me there.”

“Oh, yes, Biscuit, that would not have ended well,” he replied with a giggle before his expression grew more serious. “But I have your back.”

You weren’t sure why he’d helped you, after all he barely knew you at all. But you didn't dwell on it for too long. Of everyone you’d met today, if you had to choose just one person to trust, it would surely be him. In all his madness and with all his nonsense, you decided to trust him.

The party proceeded, though it hardly resembled your understanding of the term. There was music, sure, but the mood felt strained. The Queen however didn’t seem to notice or perhaps he simply didn’t care.

“It’s a party,” he drawled. “So, entertain me.”

“Of course, your Highness,” the frog from before hurried to assure. “The dancers, get the dancers!”

A group of dancers stepped forward, wiry figures with white wings on their backs just like those of a swan. Music started to play and they moved to the melody. It was a beautiful choreography but you couldn’t help but notice the way their arms seemed to tremble with nerves. And you weren’t the only one.

“What a pity for them,” Shinwon whispered next to you.

“A tragedy, even,” Changgu agreed.

“He won’t like that.”

“He’ll despise it.”

You looked between the two of them, before your gaze wandered back to the Queen. He looked onto the spectacle with contempt.

“Boring. Show something else.”

Immediately the music got interrupted and a different song played, the dancers changing position and starting anew. The Queen watched for a moment, his lips pursed thoughtfully.

“If only I could make this more fun,” he complained with a big sigh but then his eyes widened as if he’d had a brilliant idea. “Ah! I know! Jack! Get me some firecrackers!”

The frog nodded, relaying the task onto the ferrets who disappeared and showed up seconds later with a red box. The Queen clapped joyfully before he took the box and fished a lighter out of his pocket.

“What is he doing?” You asked Shinwon, your voice barely a whisper.

“Playing a game, it seems. He loves games.”

An uneasy feeling took root in your stomach. “What kind of game?”

“Dodge.”

The game was exactly what it sounded like. While the performance continued, the Queen lit up the firecrackers and threw them at the dancers’ feet, watching in delight as they tried to evade the small explosions.

You felt sick to your stomach and for the first time since you’d fallen into the sewer you truly wished to wake up from what clearly had to be a nightmare. With shaky fingers, you pinched the skin of your inner arm, hard enough to make tears spring to your eyes. But nothing happened. You didn’t wake up and this wasn’t a dream. The dancers were still hopping from one foot to the other, the Queen’s manic laughter drowning out the music they were dancing to. And you just stood there, frozen in place, averting your gaze instead of stepping in.

“That’s insane. How can he be so cruel?”

“He’s the Queen of Hearts, what did you expect?” Shinwon scoffed. “Of course, it was different when—no, I shouldn’t say. Not here.”

The rest of the party continued in the same vein. The Queen had a very different idea of how to stay entertained, it seemed. His games hardly qualified as games at all. If anything they were torture, for those who had to watch and even more so for those who had to play. But he was sitting on his makeshift throne enjoying the show.

“Oh, what a delight!” The Queen eventually addressed the crowd. “I had feared for this party to become a disaster. After all, it was off to a miserable start, isn’t that true?”

Maybe it was just your imagination, but you felt as if his eyes were looking right at you, giving you a warning glare as if to say I remember you. Don’t mess up again.

Panic rushed through your body and you were shaking like a leaf as you tried to withstand his gaze. When he looked away at last, announcing it was time for the grand finale, you felt all strength leaving your body and your knees would have given in if Shinwon hadn’t immediately reached out to steady you. Even when you’d found your balance again, he stayed closely behind you, resting his hands on your shoulders.

“Are you okay, Biscuit?”

You didn’t even bother pretending and shook your head.

“When is this over? When is it finally over?”

“Soon. We only have to make it through the fireworks now. You can hold out, right?”

You nodded weakly and watched with something akin to relief as the ferrets set up fireworks that for once seemed to really be just that—fireworks.

“No one’s going to get hurt, right?” you asked, to be sure.

Shinwon gave your shoulders a reassuring squeeze. “No one’s going to get hurt.”

And his words proved true. The ferrets lit the fuse and you watched with tired eyes as the flame crawled over the bloodstained floor until it reached the fireworks. They shot up with a bang and exploded into sparkling pink hearts filling the sky above you that had at last started to darken. It was a beautiful spectacle and for a brief moment you could almost trick yourself into thinking that it’d been a regular party after all. Almost. While everyone’s eyes were glued to the sparkling sky, your own fell to the Queen again. He was watching the fireworks too, in awe of its beauty, while the traces of his cruel games were scattered all around him. It seemed he was the only winner today.

After a moment he lowered his head to look at you. It was a slow, deliberate shift as if he’d been aware of your gaze all along. His eyes briefly flicked over his surroundings before they landed on you again, a small smile on his lips. Despite the distance you knew exactly what he was mouthing at you.

Beautiful, isn’t it?

When it was finally over you couldn’t even manage to be relieved. You’d seen too much and you despised yourself for watching all of it in silence.

“Why is everyone just accepting this?” You asked, once the crowd had dissipated and you’d gained some distance to the Red Castle.

“Because there’s nothing else we can do,” Shinwon explained matter-of-factly. “Not yet.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that it’s not time yet.”

“Not yet,” Changgu echoed. “But soon.”

It wasn’t a very satisfactory reply, but who were you to talk? You’d only been here for a day and it wasn’t as if you’d been brave enough to say anything either. No, you’d looked away much the same as everyone else.

You sighed and followed behind them, slowly realizing that you had no idea where you were headed. It definitely wasn’t the way back to the gas station unless the streets had suddenly swapped places which wouldn’t be the craziest thing to happen that day.

When you asked, Shinwon looked at you in confusion. “To the caterpillar, of course.”

“The caterpillar?”

“You want answers and he has a lot of them. And if you’re lucky a few of them might just match your questions.”

“Is it far?”

“Oh, very much,” Shinwon nodded but then he added, “we’re almost there.”

Eventually you turned into the street with the old theater and realized that that must be where you were headed. You’d always loved it there and had many fond memories of musicals and theater pieces you’d watched there. It was a charming building with a pretty front that you remembered to be adorned with big illuminated signs announcing the shows that were currently running. Now though, it looked sad and abandoned as it laid in complete darkness at the end of the street.

“What happened here?”

“The Queen doesn’t fancy theaters, I’m afraid. He’d rather the only shows that happen are the ones he holds in the castle. Of course it was different when—” Shinwon interrupted himself once more, but then he seemed to remember that you weren’t at the party anymore and that no one was around to hear. Still, he whispered when he continued, just to be safe. “It was different when Hongseok was still king.”

“Very different,” Changgu agreed. “Hongseok loved the theater.”

“He also loved cookies,” Shinwon added.

“And fun rides.”

“And coffee.”

Changgu nodded excitedly. “He handed out free coffee on all 23rd unbirthdays.”

“He did. Every 23rd.”

“The 23rd unbirthdays are always the best,” Changgu explained.

You looked at him in confusion. “Why?”

Now Changgu was the one looking confused. “Because they are the 23rd, of course.”

“Right,” you nodded slowly even though his explanation didn’t actually explain anything. Still, even if it didn’t make much sense, what you did understand was how fondly they thought of Hongseok. You didn’t know if he’d been a capable king, but he must have been a beloved one.

“Why isn’t he ruling anymore?”

Shinwon laughed, as if it’d been a particularly stupid question. “Because now we have the Queen, dummy. There can’t be a king and a queen.”

You wanted to argue that in fact there usually was both, but you doubted that anything would come of it.

The three of you walked towards the entrance of the dark building when Shinwon suddenly stopped in his tracks and swiveled around to Changgu.

“Do you have cash on you?”

“No, no,” Changgu shook his head, turning his pockets inside out as if to prove his point. A single button fell out and clattered to the floor.

“Oh, no. I am afraid they don't take credit card.” Shinwon sighed with a wistful glance at the dark and empty ticket booth before turning to you. “You don’t happen to have any?”

Your gaze wandered between him and the abandoned theater. “What do you need cash for?”

“To buy a ticket, dummy,” he said with a giggle. “Hare, she doesn’t know you need a ticket to go to a theater.”

“You can’t just go in without a ticket,” Changgu nodded.

"No, I—agh, nevermind."

“You’re so funny, Biscuit.”

You didn’t consider yourself a particularly humorous person, but as long as it made them laugh you supposed it was fine. Still, you didn’t get why you would have to pay to go into an abandoned building where there clearly were no shows running. You checked your pockets anyway, but you had nothing except for an old bubble gum wrapper.

“Hm,” Shinwon looked thoughtful. “Well, I guess it will have to do.”

He took the wrapper from your hand, picked up the button from the street and fished a safety pin out of his own pocket. The random assortment of things was then shoved through the hatch of the ticket booth that was meant for paying. Meanwhile Changgu opened the entrance door to the right of the booth which was barely hanging in its hinges.

“After you,” he said with a grin and an exaggerated bow.

“Very kind,” Shinwon replied with a nod and a tip of an invisible hat as he stepped past him into the dark lobby of the theater. You followed suit, giving Changgu a quick thanks.

Somehow the building made you feel weary. It was distressing how it looked as if it’d been abandoned from one second to another. There were coats hanging in the cloakroom and a half eaten bucket of popcorn was laying tipped over on the floor, popcorn scattered around it. The whole atmosphere gave you chills.

Shinwon and Changgu didn’t seem to have any such concerns though. The Hatter went straight for the snack counter, starting to rummage through the fridge that was clearly turned off.

“Coke anyone? Or a limo?” He asked, holding up glass bottles, that almost looked like the popular brands you knew, if it wasn’t for the unfamiliar writing.

He didn’t wait for a reply, already setting them onto the counter.

“Do you think we should bring something for Jinho too? You think he'd want a coke? Or something else?”

“Maybe something else.”

Shinwon nodded thoughtfully. “A water? But that's for boring people.”

“Maybe a water,” Changgu agreed anyway.

“Jinho? Are we—are we still talking about a worm here?”

Shinwon bursted into laughter. “A worm! Oh, he would hate that!”

“Wasn’t it a worm?”

He snorted before turning to Changgu. “A worm, Hare! A worm!” He repeated between chuckles, nudging his friend in the side who’d long joined his laughter.

“We shouldn’t ever tell him that.”

“We shouldn’t. He would hate it so much.”

“He would,” Changgu shook himself in delight. “Maybe we should tell him.”

“We should!”

“So, it wasn’t a worm?”

“A caterpillar, Biscuit. He is a caterpillar.”

Jinho was sitting on one of the balconies, watching the empty stage. His head was propped up on one of his hands as he leaned over the balustrade, sipping on a small pouch of red ginseng extract. The dim light in the auditorium gave his dark gray hair a blueish, almost iridescent shimmer that made you want to question if it was real. Still, he was most certainly not a caterpillar.

“A lovely theater, isn’t it?” He mumbled without looking up and you weren’t quite sure who he was talking to.

“Very lovely,” Shinwon was quick to agree but he didn’t sound serious.

“You should have seen it in its heydays,” Jinho continued, turning his head to look at you. “It was truly marvelous.”

He spoke slowly, as if his every word was well considered and it made you nervous.

You swallowed around the lump in your throat before you replied. “I’m sure it was.”

“Mhm,” he hummed approvingly, then he turned back to the stage. “I’ve been expecting you. You’re late.”

“Oh!” Shinwon chimed in. “Really? I was thinking we should have left a little earlier.”

“Not you, Hatter,” Jinho drawled in response. “Alice.”

“Alice? Which Alice?” Shinwon looked confused.

Jinho nodded in your direction. “That Alice.”

“I’m not Alice. My name is—”

“Y/n,” he interrupted you with an exasperated sigh. “I know. But you’re also Alice. One does not preclude the other, you foolish rat.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You couldn’t quite choose between feeling distraught by the fact that he knew your name or offended by his tone, so you settled for both.

“It means exactly what I said. You’re Alice.”

While you still didn’t get what he was trying to say, Shinwon and Changgu looked absolutely flabbergasted, their eyes flicking back and forth between you and Jinho.

“Our Biscuit… is Alice?”

“The Alice?”

“How many times do I need to say it?” Jinho shook his head. “Y/n is the new Alice. That’s how it’s written in the script.”

“It’s written in the script,” Shinwon repeated in disbelief.

Changgu nodded. “Y/n is Alice.”

“Would anyone please explain to me what’s going on? How can I be Alice if I’m me?”

“Because the script says you are.” Jinho squeezed out the last bits of ginseng extract, before shoving the empty package back into the box that was sitting on the seat next to him. “The script is never wrong.”

“What script?”

“The one,” Shinwon explained unhelpfully.

“The only,” Changgu added.

Jinho took out a new pouch of ginseng, his whole focus on the packaging as he slowly and carefully ripped it open. Your eyes automatically followed the movement.

“I can show you. If you wish to see,” he offered without looking up.

“I—I don’t know. I don’t know what any of this means so I don’t know if I want to see it or not.” You instinctively turned to Shinwon for help, searching his eyes for advice. “Do I?”

He didn’t immediately reply and when he did his voice was unusually calm and collected. “I think you should.”

“Okay,” you nodded slowly before turning to Jinho again. “I want to see.”

He didn’t seem to be in a hurry, calmly emptying the rest of his ginseng extract before getting up from the velvet seat.

“Let’s go to the prop room then.”

“Oh, the prop room!” Changgu looked excited, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “I haven’t gone there since our last show. It’s been a while!”

Jinho led the way out of the auditorium to narrow stairs at the far back of the hallway. A chain with a handwritten sign was supposed to keep visitors out, but Jinho nonchalantly pulled it to the side.

“Careful,” he warned before going downstairs and not without reason. Fabrics, props and costumes were scattered all over the steps and the handrail, making it feel like an obstacle course. While you slowly followed Jinho, carefully not to trip on anything, Shinwon and Changgu seemed almost delighted, hopping down the steps as if it was a funny game. Though, after seeing the gas station’s backroom it wasn’t as surprising that they weren’t bothered by the mess, you supposed.

Once you’d reached the bottom of the stairs, Jinho pulled a small key out of his pocket and unlocked the wooden door to reveal a room, cramped with more odds and ends.

Changgu went right in, purposefully taking a handkerchief from one of the zillion shelves.

“Was wondering where I’d kept that,” he commented happily before stuffing it into his pocket.

Jinho pushed past him with a sigh. “We haven’t taken out the script in a while, and this is how you act? Some adequacy, if you please.”

“Don’t be such a killjoy, Worm.”

Jinho’s head snapped around to Shinwon, giving him a death glare. “Worm?”

Shinwon just shrugged lightheartedly. “Right, Caterpillar. My bad.”

“These kids,” Jinho shook his head before turning his attention back to you. “Let’s take a look, shall we?”

He took your hand and pulled you along to the far back of the room, where a wooden chest was covered with a bunch of colorful fabrics. Jinho shoved them aside to reveal the little metal lock that he opened with another key from his pocket, before pushing up the lid of the chest. It was empty except for a stitched booklet that looked like a regular manuscript for a musical or a theater piece. Jinho took it out and thumbed through the pages until he abruptly stopped, his finger pointing to one of the lines.

“We’re here.”

You stared at the scripture written in the same unfamiliar letters as everything else in this world.

“I can’t read that.”

“Ah, right.”

Jinho closed the booklet briefly before opening it again, his fingers still marking the page. When you looked this time, you were surprised to find that it was written in letters you were able to read. Your eyes scanned the lines Jinho was pointing to, and you were overcome with a feeling of disbelief.

Caterpillar: We’re here. Alice: I can’t read that. Caterpillar: Ah, right.

Below that, the sentences seemed to be incomplete, only bits and pieces that were scattered on the paper.

“How is that possible?” you asked and right as you spoke the words started appearing in the script.

“It’s the script,” Jinho explained calmly. “That’s what it does. It documents and it predicts. It assigns roles and it decides the plot.”

“That’s right,” Shinwon nodded meaningfully but your eyes were still glued to the page, watching as everything they said formed on the paper.

“And as you can see, y/n, your role is Alice,” Jinho continued. “At least for now.”

“For now? What does that mean?”

“Well, you’re the replacement,” Changgu stared into the distance with a nostalgic shimmer in his eyes. “The old Alice is no more.”

“Did they…die?”

“Died? No, no, he is fine.” Shinwon pressed out between laughter so hard, he had to hold his stomach. “He would whine so much about this. I can practically hear his voice: ‘Don’t say something like that! Don’t jinx me!’ So funny.”

“Wooseok fulfilled his role,” Jinho explained calmly. “So now he is only Wooseok, in the same way you were only y/n before you became Alice.”

You sighed. “I don’t remember applying for the role, though.”

Jinho rolled his eyes. “Very funny.”

“So, what does it mean? Is me being Alice the reason that I’m stuck in this weird parallel universe?”

“What’s a parallel universe?” Changgu whispered, nudging Shinwon in the side.

“Surely the opposite of an unparallel iverse,” Shinwon whispered back.

“Ah.”

Jinho didn’t pay them any attention. “Not exactly. You’re stuck in this weird parallel universe—”

“That’s the opposite of an unparallel iverse,” Changgu interjected.

“—because you followed the rabbit through the Looking Glass. He was supposed to directly bring you here—but well, there’ve been some circumstances.”

“I didn’t follow anyone through a looking glass though.”

“Mhm, not purposely,” Jinho hummed. “You fell right in.”

“The sewer?”

Jinho scrunched his face in disgust. “Not the sewer. The reflection. The mirror image on the water surface.”

“So if I fell in—can I fall out again?”

“Oh, it doesn’t work like that, foolish Alice.”

“Foolish Biscuit,” Shinwon echoed, but his voice had a fond undertone to it.

“You have to fulfill your role first. Then you can go back.”

You nodded slowly. That at least meant there was a way back. “So, what do I have to do?”

“Right, that’s the tricky part, dear Alice. The script never reveals the full plot until it happens.”

“Are you saying I have to fulfill my part without even knowing what that is?!”

Jinho shook his head and skipped to a later page in the script. “We do know some things.”

The page was almost blank, only scraps of a conversation readable.

Queen of Hearts: Alice?! You betrayed me Queen of Hearts: What have you done to me? hurt so much Queen of Hearts: I'm dying

You stared at the words, an uncomfortable feeling spreading in your stomach. You had an inkling but you still asked anyway.

“What does this mean?”

“You will kill him,” Shinwon whispered. “You will end his reign.”

“No.” You shook your head. “I can’t—I can’t possibly kill anyone. Can’t someone else do it?”

Jinho shook his head. “It has to be you. He won’t die if it isn’t you.”

“But—how would I do it anyway?”

“I'm sure there are plenty of options. The King would know. Poison, maybe.”

Poison. You shuddered at the mere prospect of it; the body cramping up and lips turning purple—a gruesome thought.

“I can’t.”

“You’ve seen his cruelty. He doesn’t deserve any better,” Jinho said calmly. “And it will happen anyway. The plot may not be all written out yet, but that which is written will happen with certainty. Unless, of course, you die before that. Then a different Alice would have to take your place.”

“Unless I die?”

He shrugged. “If you’re careful that shouldn’t happen. So don’t worry about it too much, just follow along.”

Your head was spinning with all of this. Of course you wanted to go home, but could you really kill someone? But what if it was the only chance to go back? And if what Jinho said was true then was there even a use to think about what you wanted? It would happen, whether you resisted it or not. The only way out was dying, so there wasn’t even a decision for you to make, not really.

“Okay, fine,” you pressed out eventually. “I’ll fulfill my role. I’ll be Alice.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of Jinho’s lips. “I knew you would say that.”

“But how would I even get close enough to do it?” You asked Jinho while he locked the booklet in the chest again. “Does the script say anything about that too?”

“Not too much,” he admitted. “But I am convinced a chance will present itself. The Queen has his eyes on you.”

His words had you incredibly worried. You’d seen his cruel games and you’d felt his piercing gaze on you—just the prospect of having to be in his presence again terrified you.

No, the Queen didn’t seem like the type of person you’d want to have the attention of. You would much rather be invisible than to be seen by him. Yanan surely wouldn’t be afraid of him; he could just turn invisible if things got dicey. You still remembered the cat’s cheeky smile before he’d disappeared on you. In fact, it was ingrained so clearly in your brain, you almost thought you saw it in the corner of the room. But when you blinked nothing was there.

You shook yourself out of it, focusing back on the problem at hand.

“But he doesn’t know, right? That I’m Alice?”

“No one knows,” Jinho reassured. “Only a selected few. The Rabbit. And the people in this room. Though,” he threw a quick glance at Changgu who was playing around with some props on a shelf, “who knows how long the Hare will remember. He tends to be a bit scatter-brained.”

“So, what now?” You asked once the three of you were outside the theater building again.

“Hm, I guess we need to go see Hongseok. I’m sure he’ll have some poison for you,” Shinwon replied and you almost flinched at his words. How could he say it so casually, as if it wasn’t a big deal? As if you weren’t supposed to kill someone with it?

“Off to the White Castle we go,” Changgu agreed. “The King is the best address for anyone seeking leach or lotion or poison or potions.”

“Hare! You can’t call him that. Not here.” Shinwon reprimanded him, his eyes searching the streets around you cautiously.

“Right, right. The Un-King, the Used-To-Be-King, the No-More-King,” Changgu corrected. “Either way, chemistry has always been Hongseok’s strong suit.”

You weren’t sure if brewing lethal poison was really part of regular chemistry, but you’d been curious about Hongseok anyway after everything they’d said and it wasn’t like you had a better idea.

“Wooseok will be there too,” Shinwon looked at you with a small smile. “Maybe you’d feel better after talking to him.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

You walked through the city for a bit. It was deserted again, no traces of all the people who’d still been out a while ago to attend the Queen’s so-called party. As if the sky had decided to match your mood, it had turned all black by now, lit up only by the crescent moon that was hidden behind thin clouds. Time seemed to be a little off here, and you thought you could understand the Rabbit a bit. Who wouldn’t be in a constant hurry if time passed almost randomly?

“Where’s everyone?” You eventually asked when you turned into yet another street that was completely void of people.

“It’s after the curfew,” Shinwon explained.

“Yes, the curfew,” Changgu was quick to nod. “Once the sky turned fully black, it's for the best to hurry back.”

“If the sun has fully set, it is time to go to bed,” Shinwon added.

“If the sky is in the moon, the knave of hearts will get you soon.”

“But Hare, that’s not how it goes. The moon is in the sky.”

“Hm, hm, right, that’s not how it goes,” Changgu repeated thoughtfully before his eyes widened with an epiphany. “Ah! If the moon is in the sky, fear the red Knave’s dreadful eye. For if he spots you in the street, a dire fate is what you’ll meet.”

He looked at you with a proud smile after he was done reciting his little poem, but you couldn’t really share his enthusiasm.

“So, we’re not supposed to be outside right now?”

“You’re so smart, Biscuit!”

“Then shouldn’t we go inside? And who’s the Knave anyway?” you asked, the term feeling a little familiar.

“Of Hearts,” Shinwon replied. “The Knave, that is.”

“The Knave of Hearts?”

“Yes, that’s right. He’s the Queen’s right-hand man.”

“You might have seen him at the party,” Changgu chimed in. “He has a scary look. And his birthday is in January.”

“Why does that matter?” You asked in confusion.

“Oh, it doesn’t. But it means he has an unbirthday today and instead of celebrating he’s surely out on patrol.”

“You must know me very well,” a deep voice suddenly sounded from behind you, making Changgu’s ears perk up in interest.

A man stepped out of the darkness of a house entrance, and the moment the dim light of the street lantern fell onto him, you recognized him as the guy with the wavy hair from the party. You remembered him well—mostly because of the gun that was surely tucked into the waistband of his pants even now.

“If it isn’t the Knave of Hearts himself,” Shinwon exclaimed with a delighted tone. “It’s been so long, Yuto, the last time must have been when—right, you probably wouldn’t want to talk about that. It was a dark day for your Queen after all.”

“Hatter,” Yuto replied with a straight face, his tone void of any emotion. “Always a pleasure.”

Then his eyes fell onto you.

“I see you still have your visitor with you. I would say their little scene today wasn’t a source of amusement for the Queen, but that would be a lie. In fact, Hyunggu was very amused.”

His words made a cold shiver run down your spine and you automatically took a small step back.

“Oh, yes, our Biscuit is a very humorous person,” Shinwon replied, his voice still light but he held out his arm in front of you protectively.

Yuto huffed a laugh before glancing at the dark sky. “Still, violating the rules isn’t a funny matter. Why aren’t you in your cozy little hideout yet, Hatter?”

“We’re on our way!” Shinwon said.

Changgu nodded over-enthusiastically. “Yes, yes, on our way. Almost home!”

“Better hurry then. I won’t be as kind next time.” With that, Yuto turned around to go his way, leaving you with an anxious feeling in your stomach.

Shinwon let out a small sigh as soon as he was out of sight. “That was a close call. Now, let’s hurry, let’s hurry. I wouldn’t want to run into him twice. Not a very funny fellow.”

Shinwon and Changgu didn’t seem particularly shaken by the encounter. After a few steps they were back to their giddy selves. You on the other hand couldn’t stop yourself from checking each dark corner for a person hiding in the shadows.

When you spotted the ferris wheel towering above the surrounding buildings you started to suspect where you were headed: the amusement park. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been there, but just like the theater it was a place with fond memories to you.

Once you reached the entrance, Wonderland written on the archway in weathered letters, you had to find that there was none of the usual hustle and bustle. The park laid before you abandoned and still, solely the lights of the castle in the middle of the artificial lake flickered weakly in the distance. What used to be a vibrant, lively place looked washed out now, the fun rides and booths overgrown with patches of moss and their colors bleached out by the sun.

“Aaaand we made it,” Shinwon said as soon as he stepped through the entrance.

“But we’re still outside?”

“Outside but not really. The curfew isn’t in force here.”

You looked around in confusion. You didn’t really see a reason why anything would be different on the grounds of the amusement park. “Why not?”

“Because the White King’s protective spell takes effect here. It keeps heartlings from entering. Even the Queen can’t enter,” Shinwon explained.

“The Queen isn’t as powerful as he’d like to make everyone believe,” Changgu added with a nod, as he headed straight for the shabby pedal boats in the shape of swans that were floating on the calm surface of the lake.

He pulled one a little closer to the pier, gesturing for you to get in. When you set foot onto the boat it started to wobble dangerously and Changgu held out his hand to steady you, not letting go until you were safely sitting on the bench in the back. Shinwon got on next, taking one of the two front seats and Changgu hopped on last, after untying the rope from the metal loop on the pier. The two of them set to work, pedaling the little boat towards the small castle. As a child you had always dreamed of going there, but it hadn’t been open to the public, the pretty front just a means of decoration. Now though, there was no fence separating the little island from unwanted visitors, and the two of them easily steered the boat onto the narrow shore.

Changgu got off first, tying the rope around one of the two flagpoles that were positioned left and right of the castle. You remembered them to fly flags with the logo of the amusement park but now they were white, depicting a silver pentagon with a snowflake in the middle. The emblem of the White King, you supposed. The three of you walked the cobblestone path up to the entrance of the castle. Now that you were standing directly in front of it, it seemed way bigger than the decorative fake in your memory. It probably was bigger.

Shinwon didn’t bother knocking on the double wing door before pushing it open and stepping inside. The lobby was all white, from the marble floor to the chandelier and it almost felt blinding.

“Hello?” Shinwon yelled into the building with the same tone you’d had at the gas station earlier today and you wondered if it was on purpose. “Hellooo?”

“Eh?” A honey blond head of hair appeared on the second floor, leaning over the handrail. “Shinwon? Changgu?”

Changgu raised his hand in a tiny wave, a dorky smile on his lips. “Hi.”

“What are you doing here?” The guy asked as he walked towards the stairs and made his way down. “And who’s your friend?”

“Y/n,” you introduced yourself before anyone could beat you to it and say Alice or Biscuit.

The guy came to a halt in front of you and only now you realized how incredibly tall he was. There was nothing intimidating about him though as he looked at you through big doe eyes. His hair was combed back in neat waves and he was wearing a sweater vest that was loose even on his lanky frame.

“Wooseok,” he introduced himself and held out his hand in a greeting. In comparison to everyone else he seemed surprisingly normal.

“So, what are you doing here?”

“We’re looking for Hongseok,” Shinwon explained, slipping out of his shoes and leaving them by the entrance as if he was visiting someone else’s apartment and not the prop castle of an amusement park. Changgu did the same though and you realized Wooseok was wearing slippers as well, so you too toed out of your shoes. Surprisingly enough, the marble floor didn’t feel very cold beneath your feet at all.

“He’s in the kitchen,” Wooseok nodded towards a corridor to his right.

“Alright!”

Shinwon sauntered down the hall with the casualty of someone who’d been there a thousand times before and Changgu followed along just as naturally. You were a few steps behind them, Wooseok next to you. He kept glancing over to you curiously but didn’t say anything.

“Hongseok!” Shinwon greeted just a bit too loudly as he threw open a door to reveal a spacious kitchen.

A man with curly brown hair looked up in surprise, his hands covered in flour and a white apron tied around his waist.

“Oh, Hatter. And Hare.” He went over to the sink and rinsed his hands before his gaze fell on you. “And another guest?”

“Yes, this is—”

“Alice!” Changgu interrupted his friend, visibly excited about sharing the news.

“Alice?” Wooseok’s head snapped around to you and he stared at you with wide eyes. “So, you’re—you’re not from here?”

You just looked back at him. You’d already been told that Wooseok was the old Alice, but it hadn’t even occurred to you that maybe he too wasn’t from this universe.

“Now, now,” Hongseok walked over to you, wiping his wet hands on his apron. “We shouldn’t corner our new Alice like that. What’s your name?”

“Y/n.”

“A pretty name,” he smiled and gently squeezed your hand. “I’m Hongseok, the White King, but you might have heard. Wooseok was our last Alice, but his part has already played out.”

“Yes, yes,” Shinwon interrupted. “Biscuit already knows all that. But what we don’t know yet is how to kill the Queen of Hearts.”

“Oh,” Hongseok’s eyes widened in surprise. “Is that your part?”

“Seems like it,” you murmured, not withholding that you weren’t exactly fond of it all.

“Mhm, so it’s that time already. It’s really coming to this.” With a swift movement of his hand he motioned for the others to leave. “Give us a moment, will you?”

They did as they were told, though Wooseok lingered a moment longer before actually stepping out and closing the door behind him.

“Do you want to drink something? A coffee? A hot chocolate? I have cookies too.”

You were inclined to say no, but when you gave it another thought you realized you hadn’t eaten anything in quite a while and could also really use the comfort of a hot drink. Hongseok prepared a hot chocolate and a plate of cookies for you, while you sat down at the small table in the corner of the room. Once he was done he sat down across from you, his eyes calm and gentle. After how Shinwon and Changgu had talked about him, it shouldn’t have surprised you, but it still amazed you how different his whole aura was compared to the Queen of Hearts. Where the Queen had been intimidating and rash, Hongseok radiated kindness and patience.

“Here,” He mumbled after a moment, nudging the plate of cookies a bit in your direction to encourage you to try some. “They are good, I promise. I only just made them this morning.”

You hesitantly took one and started to nibble on it, only to find that Hongseok had been way too humble—it tasted amazing.

“See? They are good right?” He looked a little proud when you nodded. “So, do you want to tell me about it? About what’s written in the script?”

In all honesty, you didn’t. But it seemed like he wanted to help so you told him about everything that you’d found out at the theater. Through it all, Hongseok listened calmly.

“So now,” you concluded your story, “I have to find a way to actually do it.”

“Well,” Hongseok nodded slowly, “here’s the thing: the Queen of Hearts is not easily harmed. Not just anyone can—it has to be Alice. And even then, there’s only one weakness.”

“Which?”

“The heart.”

“The heart?” In a way it seemed plausible for that to be the weakness of someone called the Queen of Hearts, but at the same time it seemed a little too simple.

“Yes.”

“How do I do it then?”

“Mhm,” he got up from his chair and walked towards a glass cabinet with a zillion little bottles and jars inside.

“I know of two ways. One is this,” he held up a little test glass with a dark red liquid in it. You swallowed around the lump in your throat.

“Poison?”

“It's the blood of the Jabberwocky to be precise. But poison describes it just fine. Once it gets into your body it will pollute your blood and ultimately make your heart stop.”

Maybe it wouldn’t be that hard. You could just add some to his food. Still, the thought of being able to feel it invading your blood circulation made your skin crawl. “And the other way?”

“I doubt you’ll like it.”

“What is it?”

Hongseok sighed before opening the drawer beneath the glass cabinet. He pulled out a silver dagger so radiant it almost looked white. He held it out to you and you hesitated before you stood up and took it with trembling fingers. It was lighter than you’d expected and ice cold to the touch.

“If you stab him with that—but it needs to be right in the heart.”

That was definitely worse. You would never be able to actually go through with something like that.

“I couldn’t,” you pressed out, holding it out in your open palm for Hongseok to take it back.

But he gently closed your hand around the hilt again.

“You don’t have to use it. But keep it, just in case.”

“There won’t be a case.”

“All the better.”

Hongseok had invited all three of you to spend the night in the castle, so you wouldn’t have to go out during the curfew again. The room you’d gotten was fancy and as white and shiny as the rest of the castle’s interior. In the middle of it was a soft bed that smelled like vanilla and fresh snow and just waited for you to slip under the covers, but you felt restless. You paced the room, unable to tune out that there was a dagger and a little heart shaped pendant with poison laying on your nightstand. This definitely wasn’t how you’d expected your day to end. It seemed to have gone downhill from the moment you’d stepped foot to that cursed party, but when Shinwon had talked about the Caterpillar having answers, there’d been a sliver of hope flaring up inside of you. Now, there was nothing left of that.

Even though you’d gotten your answer on how to get back to your world, you didn’t feel relieved in the slightest. All you could think of was the horrifying things you’d have to go through before finally going back. And the worst part was that you didn’t seem to have a choice, not really. Even if you decided it wasn’t worth it and you’d just stay—what was written in the script would happen either way.

series masterlist // character introduction // ptg masterlist

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iniziare · 13 days ago

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"hmm," she'd draw out a longer sigh, single finger stretching across the smaller gap between them on the table, gloveless and bare, with nail polish done to match the gold found on her company for the evening. a subtle touch would soon enough follow, but not the hand that seemed to await her company, no, the golden watch and the edge where metal and skin met; "... do you always dress this elegant?"

Loud, perhaps would've been a better word, index slowly following the round shape of the watch there Robin remained seated, other hand propped up under her chin. "Gold, teal, black ; there seems to not be a single color that you can't wear, I'm almost a little envious. During my personal dark and gloomy era, everyone said I came of a little too pale." Then, a lower of her voice, the charmony dove's chin parting with her hand so she could lean across the table a little better, emerald fluttering between his watch and gaze.

"Imagine me with a spray tan," she'd laugh quietly, warmly as hand would soon enough settle onto his, the one that had been waiting beneath the watch. "I think the tan lines would drive me mad, and so, my question still stands ; does the infamous Aventurine always dress this elegantly, or does he have other charming outfits in his wardrobe? Is your night wear also in gold?"

Were enchantment to ever be a person, none other than this little songbird opposite him (much to his chagrin, for not a muscle in him didn't crave for her to be at his side instead, but perhaps that future lay only barely out of his grasp) could claim its existence. So easily would she find herself triumphant, like none other could ever hope to rival, at least not to him. And so he sat, enraptured— oh, he knew that he was little less than that, and she would see proof of such a reality in the way the creases of his eyes deepened at her fiddling by his watch. Will you always be so agonizing with me, little bird?

His black tie hung loose, its knot forgotten and trailing low on his chest, as if evidencing the reality that there was no pretense here. No, it had been foregone some time ago. The collar of his shirt lay undone, its edges parted enough to frame the pale line of his throat as it lay exposed, and unguarded. The sight oh him was a canvas that framed a man who was found perfectly at ease: caught in something akin to disheveled elegance. And so, in that, came a response that abandoned him in a confidence much the same: "What if I dressed just to impress you tonight, Miss Robin?" Last time, this time, and every time? Ss he leaned forward to meet her somewhat in stride, a necklace — a thin, golden chain — gleamed faintly against his skin, catching the dim light around them like a whisper of defiance, before its pendant dipped back in the shadows beneath the undone fabric. Perhaps it was a tease, one unintended, but one nonetheless to rival her own that seemed all but incredibly intended. She always stayed just out of reach of him, even though he ached to grasp at those sly fingers of hers, for it should be his that commit such deeds, such gestures that would allow him to steal a strayed brush of that bare hand, and its softest palm. But he was patient, he was always patient with her, even though the anticipation proved to be a cruel mistress time, and time again. "I'm humbled that you think I would look good in a lavender and orange suit." It came spoken in certain amusement, with every syllable laced, and dripping with a teased gaiety. "Maybe I'll try that for our next date. If you, everyone's favorite dove, promise that you will wear black the next time we meet. I think I'd like to judge for myself, I've never been much for the opinion of the masses." Could she blame him for the shameless confidence? Perhaps he would blame her if she tried to— and then the punishment for such a mortal sin? Mm, he'd see about that one.

And just when he thought that she couldn't possibly be much more agonizing for his eyes, or mind: Imagine me with a spray tan. I think the tan lines would drive me mad. As if he needed any more distraction than the tantalizing close to bare shoulders that had taunted him for an evening in its entirety right before him. Truly, his only restraint, and redemption, could be found in the touch of a hand to his own, one that was promptly rewarded with the briefest caress to her palm with one singular finger. "Maybe, and maybe it isn't." His turn to tease her: "I'll show you mine, if you show me yours, little bird."

Prompt: Unprompted, how dare you kill us like this. // @avaere

#aventurine. [ mr. cavalier gambler: uptight. overcautious. inferiority complex. you've won so much but you're still so afraid of losing. ]#aventurine: ic. [ they see only the straight flush. they don't know the other hand below the table clutching your chips for dear life. ]#avaere #[ LALALAALALALA I CAN'T HEAR YOU OVER AVENTURINE FALLING IN EVERY ROOM OF HIS SUITE; BREAKING EVERYTHING . ]#aventurine: robin. [ so she sings; but does she dance? ] avaere.#[ listen listen listen!! LISTEN-- ]#[ /crickets. ]#[ /sudden pterodactyl screeches. ]#[ AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-- I'M FINE. ]#[ /sits in corner like angry cat and panda. ]

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jesuis-melodrama · 2 years ago

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A doodle of Lila! I was redesigning her outfit a while back and is quite pleased with that I came up with.

This is Lila with the Fox Miraculous. Unlike her canon colour scheme, I have always imagined her as lilac. I've explained in a previous post how Lila's name means purple; hence associations with royalty, luxury, spirituality, and independence. There are two further reasons for a change in palette:

I want to differentiate her from Alya. Lila established herself as the first auxiliary Miraculous hero (even if her Fox Pendant was fake) all the way back in Volpina in S01E26, and although Alya has replaced her since as a true and just hero that actually holds the Fox Miraculous, Alya hasn't quite managed to shake Lila's orange identity from her. The girls are both sneaky foxes, but that doesn't mean they shouldn't have individualism. I imagine that Lila would blast onto the scene dressed as the most stereotypical Fox possible – complete with an eyeliner mask, bodystripe suit, and long tail – to fool Paris' resident superheroing duo, but would eventually settle into her own aesthetic.

I want to give Lila's outfit her personality. Orange is nice and all, but it's loud. And it represents optimism, energy, agreeableness; very Alya-esque but not very Lila. Lilac is not only the meaning of Lila's name, but has attributes far more attuned to her: wealth, extravagance, creativity, grandeur. I should also clarify that I do mean for Lila's outfit to be lilac and not pure purple, also to differentiate her from Papillon/Papillombre/Monarch who favours a very heady aubergine in his suit. The lighter shade represents that no matter how confident and mature Lila likes to act, she's still a young girl. And the youthfulness and sensitivity allusion attached to lilac displays that. The flower, lilac, also represents passion and renewal.

There are no purple foxes in nature, regrettably, but there are pure-white ones, a loud cry from their darker-coloured brethren. A defining characteristic of foxes is their usage of their coat as camouflage in their environment when hunting. Rena Furtive canonically has an ice-lilac-camo suit, and check out this adorable picture of an Arctic Fox at a purple sunset!

Here's a picture I drew of Lila awhile ago, wearing OZLANA's SS22 Heart Collection. I always associate her with purple, even back then when I had no idea how to dress her.

Lila didn't have a mask in the previous image because I had completely forgotten to add it. I was thinking in lieu of a feature I deemed more important, her eyes, and I believe Lila wouldn't want some fabric covering her beauty anyway. Eyes are very important to me, windows to the soul, and the way they're shaped can tell an audience a lot about a character. Adrien, for example, has very characteristic and detail-heavy eyes. Each stroke has a story. As Lila is focused on her appearance, she would like to make sure people see in her exactly what she wants them to see.

I do have an idea of what Lila's mask would look like, a Venetian style piece (Lila canonically has a collection of Venetian masks hanging on the wall of her bedroom, representing her two-faceness) combined with the tall bunny-ears of Fox Miraculous Holders. Foxes actually have triangular ears, but I like the height Miraculous fox ears have. Very playful. Here's a rough sketch of Lila with her mask, and what a coloured version of her outfit would look like, along with a somewhat-finalised project.

You may notice I keep switching back and forth between a bow at Lila's bodice, and a bunch of ruffles. This is because I genuinely love Lila's bow motif on her polka-dotted romper:

Such a coquette and feminine detail. I want to add it everywhere, both because it represents her appearance-focused persona and creates a link between her Hero and civilian-self. But if her bow is at the forefront of her hero suit, then where does the Fox Miraculous go? I went back and forth on multiple ideas, I had a style where the Fox Pendant would be tied to Lila's ponytail and would swing like a pendant there. But: 1) that sounds like it'll hurt, and 2) I can't imagine Lila will want her Miraculous attached to a blindspot rather than at her chest where she could see it and most effectively protect it. In the end, I went with the design at the very top of this post. Ruffles, and her Pendant attached to her collar.

You may notice Lila is wearing heels. Really inadvisable for a hero suit, right? But don't let anyone tell Lila to value practicality over style. I associate Lila with Dolce and Gabbana, an Italian brand known for their extravagant floral and gold motifs. It's where all the gold accents on Lila's suit comes from, and where her laced-up boots are birthed. Again, going with the topmost image, her boots are calf-length rather than knee-length. I've decided it shows ease of movement better.

Lila has two tails. I was inspired by this belt from Pinterest, and indeed in my design, Lila's tail isn't attached to her coat but to her waist itself, stemming from an elaborate and bedazzled cummerbund, inspired by – Dolce and Gabbana. The two tails obviously represents her two-facedness, and continues to differentiate her from Alya, whose singular tail paints her as Fox No.1 and displays her authentic nature.

Other than that, here's a little moodboard I've put together representing all the different styles I've taken consideration of while crafting Lila out. I've decided on a band jacket and shorts because while it's comfortable and empirical, it also has an undeniable aura of high fashion and stylishness. Ironically, out of all these outfits, the only one I could find a source for was at the top right-hand corner and she came from, you guessed it, Dolce and Gabbana.

Fun fact: the Internet excessively likes to link butterfly imagery to purple and lilac. I saw so many butterfly-themed objects while researching for this post, and they were gorgeous. I had to resist adding them on, I want space between Lila and Monarch/the Butterfly Miraculous right now, I want to focus on her Fox persona.

Lila wears fingerless gloves. Partially to show off her nails but also so she could use her claws. Unlikes Adrien, Kitty Noir, whose brute force is strong enough that he wears straight-up metal gauntlets, Lila needs gaps in her armour for her claws to work their maximum.

Final details, Volpina's Flûte is canonically much thinner than Rena Rouge's.

While Volpina holds a longer, entirely straight rod, Rena Rouge's has bumps and tapered-out ends. I don't plan on changing Lila's Flûte shape, I like the length and the slimness of it, it suits her very well. Other than adding some colour and accent upgrades (lilac and gold to match her suit) my version of Lila will still be holding the instrument her canonical self does.

#miraculous les aventures de ladybug et chat noir #lila rossi #art

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theprinceandthewitch · 5 months ago

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Okay, time to jump back into the pits of IDV lore...

Character Introduction:

Alice DeRoss had a fulfilling childhood and a happy family. Enlightened and gentle parents, kind and reliable playmates shaped her optimistic and cheerful personality.

However, a tragic accident at the age of six changed everything, the family fell overnight, she was also known as the daughter of misfortune, suffered from hysteria and was sent to the orphanage.

She experienced both mental and physical torture in the orphanage until she was secretly adopted by a medical professor as an experimental subject and brought to Melbourne when she was 14 years old.

With prolonged medication and physical therapy, she gradually regained consciousness, however, it is perhaps more cruel to live soberly in hell than to live unaware in human world.

Luckily, the voice that existed in her memory kept saving her back to the brink of collapse repeatedly. Finally, all this changed her, but did not destroy her.

At the age of 21, Alice escaped back to England and became a social journalist in anonymity, looking for the truth about the tragedy and the disappearance of her playmates.

As an adult, Alice is elegant and intelligent, tough and brave personality, good at observation and disguise, as well as having excellent oratorical talent and analytical ability, unforgettable, able to sharply capture the emotions of others, however, because of pathological reasons, and drug testing at an early age, her sense of fear to be significantly weaker than normal, but also have more than normal endurance.

But even if she overcame the nightmare of the past, but it does not remove it. When alone, Alice de Rose[sic] has a serious cleanliness and obsessive-compulsive disorder, always wears gloves and hates sharp sounds.[3]

----

Oh okay, so Orpheus was basically her guiding light during the time she was being used as a lab rat.... guiding her out of the Underworld, so to speak...

OKAY.

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A Crumpled Medical Report (2024):

(The back of the paper is covered in sawdust, while the front bears fragmented information written in somewhat juvenile handwriting.) Greetings. It seems I was correct—you found my message. Someone left a pen here—I've hidden it in the crevice between the second window and the iron bars. Perhaps they hoped you'd write something down, as I have. ... Greetings. Yes, I've found them. I'll write down what I remember, then return them to their place. The nurses wouldn't want any extra things lying about the room now, would they? ... I seem to have forgotten something... What a good start—at least I remember that I forgot something. ... They had my favorite chestnut cake this morning. ... No, wasn't breakfast raspberry cake? ... Who are you? ... Someone changed my medication. It must've been the one who left the pen. ... Who are you? ... If you're reading this, then you've guessed correctly... ... Who are you? ... I've discovered Dr. Bourbon's secret. ... Who are you? ... Remember, you've already forgotten "who I am..." ... Who are you? ... That key is in Dr.Bourbon's drawer. ... Who are you? ... They seem to have noticed the issue with the medication, but no matter, we can strike tonight. ... Welcome back, my bravest Nightingale.

----

I'M....

ORPHEUS HELPED HER ESCAPE FROM THE SCIENTISTS?

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Also, my sleep deprived ass thought this letter was talking about a future event, but it's actually talking about Alice's time at the orphanage.

December 23rd, 1894 Myles (迈尔西) Orphanage

Dear Mr. ▇▇▇,

We’re terribly sorry to inform you that we were unable to approve your request of adoption regarding Alice. However, please believe us when we say that this has nothing to do with adoption fees; instead, it is about ethical considerations - we believe that members of her family, relatives by blood, would be a better fit (I hope you understand what I mean).

Despite this, you may still visit her as a friend, but we would not suggest doing so at the moment. Her current condition is worrisome. Since her arrival, her mental state has been on the border between consciousness and insanity. Any slight irritation will cause her to continuously scream shrilly, and scratching became her only form of communication with others. Even when she is in her more conscious state, she refuses to interact with others, but she can at least act independently. Therefore, we were forced to arrange a room alone. Now, this may sound immoral, but it can guarantee that she will not put anyone in harm’s way - especially, herself. To be frank, when compared to the other children, she already receives extremely special treatment. However, the doting and care the workers provide (Oh, goodness, they all love little Alice so much), and separately assigned room arrangements both require tremendous sums of money (For all I know, there’s been a number of people who have told me in secret that Alice belongs in an asylum and not an orphanage). Of course, “Benevolence treats all people equally” is our orphanage’s goal: we will do our best to ensure her living conditions here, within our current economic situation.

Perhaps, after a while, when her condition is stable, we will contact you for a visit. But, in the meantime, please wait patiently and have faith in us to protect every child that is sent here. We truly hope Alice is able to swiftly recover, and receive - as well as, be able to - enjoy her happy life.

Sincerely,

The Head of Myles (迈尔西) Orphanage

(The word “LIAR” is scrawled onto the letter, in large, capital red letters.)

---

The person who wrote this letter is heavily implied to be Orpheus...

Before everyone gets all up in arms: Orpheus is three years older than Alice... he's not some grown man, lmao

#identity v #everytime i read the lore im like. damn. IDV fans are liars LOL

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alaskanexile · 11 months ago

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A friend of mine came to me a week ago with this peculiar idea of an alt history where the Soviets cloned the M16 instead of adopting the AK-74. She acknowledges the entire premise is silly but it's for fun so who cares. Basically, she was looking for input on what changes they'd make too it.

We went back and forth a fair bit. She did take my input seriously and conceded certain points, namely there was no way the Soviets would keep the bolt release and would want to incorporate the dovetail rail on the side to make use of their preexisting scopes. That being said, there were a fair few she didn't agree with at all so i decided to say fuck it and design both her final design and then my own take.

Her rifle is the TKB-174, the Dzyubenko Proposal from the Tula Arsenal. My take is the TKB-175, the Vendal Proposal from Ishevsk.

In general i feel she was...overly optimistic about the Soviets material realities or willingness to change. I didn't color them because I didn't feel like it, but her 174 variant features full polymer furniture.

In the 70s.

Look, I'm aware of the Soviets use of polymers. i know about the green border guard AKMs, but those were limited and uncommon. If the Soviets were capable of mass production of polymer furniture for their mainline rifles in the 1970s, don't you think the AK-74 would have had it? It wasn't even some kind of trad disinterest in polymer because muh wood. They attempted a program to add as many Bakelite parts to the AK in the 50s or 60s to make it lighter, going so far as to make the dust cover plastic! This ultimately failed of course, Bakelite is fairly fragile, but It's the whole reason the AKM and 74 had Bakelite pistol grips!

So the 175 has wood furniture. The reality is it wouldn't be till the 80s till we'd start seeing mass produced polymer furniture in that lovely plum color.

She made an attempt to maintain the Soviet manual of arms, particularly for reloading, by moving the latch of the AR's T shaped charging handle to the right side. (Soviet reloading technique was to do everything with the right hand.) This feels contrived and like it wouldn't really do much, so i just made the 175 into a weird cludge of an AK into an ARs form factor.

Her lower is aluminum. I don't think the Soviets would bother with aluminum due to cost and not caring much about the weight. So my lower is stamped metal.

Basically, she's conceived a largely straight forward AR-15 clone with some Slavic flair. I've conceived a rifle that's attempting to be as cheap as possible while being an AK with extra steps.

I'm not sure if this was part of a larger project of hers or just a thought experiment, but to make this somewhat useful to me i have made these kind of canon to Følslava.

Within Følslavas lore, these were developed and proposed alongside the AK-74. Dzyubenkos 174 was rejected due to high per unit cost, being too radical a change as well as not wanting to use an American design, and concerns over the Direct impingement gas system in cold climates. Vendals 175 was rejected for just being kind of weird and ugly and not offering anything an AK couldn't do. The timeline proceeded as normal from here with the adoption of the AK-74.

the 174 and 175 were filed away in the arsenals archives and largely forgotten about for a few decades. They would eventually be brought to the publics attention in the 2040s, when a prominent firearms historian and online video maker was granted access to these archives and made a series on these strange curiosities.

#alaskan surplus #setting: Følslava #concept art #digital art #gun art #alt history #firearms design #long post

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wildflower-otome · 2 years ago

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[Translation] Clover no Kuni no Alice: White Calling Light Novel - Chapter 1

Summary

After moving to the Country of Clover, Alice is working as a maid while residing at Hatter Mansion. Worried that Alice will be led astray by the voices of the mysterious doors in the forest, the Prime Minister of Heart Castle, the White Rabbit Peter, persistently invites her everyday, ‘I want you to come to the Castle so we can be together forever.’ At the same time, while meetings are being held at the Tower of Clover, Alice ends up getting dragged into a fight between mafia—!?

Act 1 - It began with a white calling

Clack.

As she shut the door behind her, Alice breathed a sigh.

'Sheesh…..Peter's such a pain. Even though I won't change my answer no matter how many times he comes.'

Recalling the White Rabbit who had intruded into the garden at the Hatter Mansion not long before, Alice Liddell dropped her shoulders. Despite the long ears attached to his head, that rabbit never, never listened to what she said. It was a given she'd be fed up.

'Although, I suppose it wouldn't be Peter if he did listen obediently.'

Remembering his back when he left the garden as three of the role holders at the Hatter Mansion returned fire, she shrugged.

'............'

While sighing, she directed a quick glance towards the scenery in the garden that was visible from her window.

The large table she could see below was a favourite item of the Mansion's owner. Likely because it was the daytime period when the skies were still blue, there was no one sitting in the chairs.

She hadn't forgotten. When she had first been invited to the Mansion, it had been that table she had used.

The master of the Mansion was fickle and moody. Especially when it came to tea, he was fussy to the point that he wouldn't listen no matter what was said to him, and yet strangely he continued to use the same table without ever replacing it.

She wasn't sure of the reason why, but to Alice it was almost like a commemorative item, so it made her feel a little happy.

'Now then, time to get ready for work…..being late just because Peter came is inexcusable.'

She moved from the window and walked towards the closet she had been provided with. When she opened it, there was a white maid outfit hanging inside. They were the work clothes that she had been given for her own use during her stay at the Mansion.

As she took out the white outfit, Alice was laughing a little.

'Even though I've got my job, so of course I can't just go live somewhere else…..really, that rabbit doesn't listen to what people say at all. And he's got such long ears too…..Elliot's the same, I wonder if all rabbits are just like that.'

Alice was still a newcomer to the Mansion. Even if her job was but that of an apprentice maid, work was work. She wanted to do a good job of fulfilling her role.

Whilst there might be changes due to the move, those thoughts still remained the same.

'............'

As that particular word came into her mind, Alice frowned a little.

She turned her gaze towards the vast grounds of the Mansion. Beyond it, unable to be seen from Alice's room, lay a green Forest.

The Forest of Doors, that whispered to the lost.

'.....This is the place I belong, isn't it…..?'

As Alice spoke as if to tell herself that, she untied her white apron, and as she put a hand to her blue dress…..stopped moving, as if she had realized something.

'It'd be better if I left this in my room after all…..I don't think it'll get broken, but just in case.'

Something hard, that had been in her pocket. Something that she had grown used to touching, to the point she knew what it was just by feeling the outside.

What she took out from her clothing was a small vial with a heart shaped stopper. Likely because it was made of glass, the contents within were visible.

However, unlike its transparent vessel, the fluid inside was somewhat cloudy.

'.............'

Compared to before, she thought that she no longer gazed at the glass vial quite as often.

But even so—unconsciously, there were times when she would put it into her pocket without thinking. The first time she had looked at this small bottle as she was doing now, had been right at the time she had fallen into this world.

A tall tower that looked down over the Country of Hearts. The one who had been there with her at that place, was that White Rabbit.

'.....Let's stop reminiscing.'

As memories of forcibly being made to drink the bitter medicine came into her mind, Alice shook her head from left to right.

There was no doubt she was better off not remembering unpleasant memories.

She put the item that made a small sploshing noise each time she picked it up, away in her drawer. And, after once more putting a hand to her blue dress, she continued changing into her maid outfit.

She smoothed down her skirt, and tied the large ribbon around her waist. After lastly placing a small hat on her head as the finishing touch, her preparations were complete.

'.....Alright, all done.'

As she checked her reflection in the mirror and nodded, almost as if it had been waiting for Alice to finish changing, the colour of the sky changed.

The sky that should have been bright blue, was now displaying the dark blue of night.

'Now, I'd better get going.'

After lightly fluttering out the voluminous skirt of her maid outfit, the girl headed for the door.

The light that shone in from the window from which she had been looking down onto the garden a moment ago had now become a faint moonlight.

At this point, Alice was no longer surprised at the sudden change that had occurred in the sky just now.

The time periods in this world changed irregularly. It wasn't unusual for night to follow straight after noon. As to be expected, this was a world in which no one knew how long the night would continue on, or if it would completely change in an instant.

That was the kind of world Alice had decided to remain in.

'I'm off.'

Facing the small bottle she had left in the room, Alice spoke those words, then gently closed the door behind her.

In the now empty room, only the shadows of the night quietly spread out.

***

Soft-looking, without a single trace of dirt— a white pure like snow.

A gingham checkered coat scattered with vivid shades of red.

What stood out to her the first time she saw him were those two overly intense colours.

If it were just the colours themselves, it was likely they were not all that unusual, even in reality.

However…..if the one wearing them was an existence impossible in reality, then that was a different matter altogether.

'............'

A rabbit wearing clothes, walking on two legs. Precisely speaking, it wasn't just clothes, he was a rabbit that wore glasses as well, and was even carrying a large pocket watch.

'A rabb-...whaa-!?'

Judging from the long ears growing from its head, and the bushy tail…..at any rate, it seemed that the creature that had appeared in the garden at the Liddell's house where Alice lived was a rabbit, no matter how you looked at it. On top of that, he was running on his hind legs. Not temporarily standing on two legs, but walking on two feet like a human. It was something that was ordinarily impossible.

As she got up despite herself, she grimaced at the sudden pain in her head. It was a headache. It might be due to low blood pressure. Even though she had just gotten up, she felt as if she were about to sink back down to the ground at the feeling of dizziness that enveloped her whole body.

However, Alice quickly determined that this situation was a dream. She once more lay on her side on the ground and decided to close her eyes.

To decide that there was absolutely no way such a creature was real, or that it would appear in her garden, one could say that this was a verdict that was very like her, who was a realist.

(Oh dear, I must have fallen asleep….while I was waiting for my big sister…..)

Her sister, who had gone to the storage room to look for the playing cards, must not have returned yet. Ever since her mother had passed away, all leisure items had fallen into disuse and been put away somewhere in the recesses of the storage room, her sister must surely be having a hard time finding them.

Those had been her thoughts as she closed her eyes, but the unfading sound of light footsteps urged her on.

(That being said…..to dream something like this, I must be pretty tired.)

A dream of a rabbit restlessly running through the garden. She wondered what kind of state of mind she must be in to have caused such a thing. She would have to ask her big sister, who had recently gotten into psychology.

As she opened her eyes just a little, she could see that the creature, who was white all the way down to his short legs, was staring at her for some reason. The vivid red eyes looked a little stern.

‘.....Hey, you there! This is the part where you’re supposed to chase after me, isn’t it!? Why are you ignoring me!? You have to chase after the rabbit, right?’

‘............’

Not only was he wearing clothes and running, this rabbit could talk. The more worked up the rabbit became, the colder the consciousness of the girl lying on her side grew.

Ah, I wish my big sister would hurry up and come back already.

‘.....Zzzzz….’

When she did, she would be able to wake from this dream.

As she tried once again to give into the heaviness of her eyelids, a pitter patter sound echoed from nearby. It seemed as if the rabbit was kicking the ground with its feet as if frustrated. To hear such a comical sound, that had to be a dream for you. More and more, this seemed to be a fairytale-like world that was quite unlike her.

'Hey! You've got a gloomy future ahead if you're gonna be so apathetic while you're still so young!'

Even as the rabbit scolded her, Alice kept her eyes closed.

She had a feeling that if she opened her eyes and met the gaze of this rabbit once more…..something even worse was going to happen. And in times like these, a girl's instincts were never wrong. Alice was still of an age where she could be called a girl, but she had accumulated enough life experience that she was able to tell this much.

However, it did not appear that the annoyed rabbit beside her had noticed her state of mind. It continued to stamp its feet— although she could not see it, from the sound she could tell without a doubt, and— raised its voice.

'Please don't ignore me! Come, you must chase me!'

'...Zz…'

Alice, who had decided to continue to feign sleep until she woke up from this strange dream, purposely continued to ignore the rabbit—then, involuntarily opened her eyes at the sudden feeling of floating that enveloped her.

'..............? Whaaaa-!?'

She let out a yell at the fluffy long things covered in fur.

The muffler-like things that had suddenly appeared in front of her eyes were standing straight up towards the sky, as if firmly supported by something in the center of them.

An animal's ears— that's right, they were the ears of the rabbit that had been agitating her just a moment ago. The size of them was different of course, but she wasn't able to think of any other creature who had such long ears.

'Eeeeehhhh!?'

'Please don't shout in my ears.'

From below the surprised Alice, red eyes looked up at her as if a little troubled. It was the rather well-proportioned face of an intellectual-type looking young man. However, his ears were the long ones of a rabbit.

Deep red eyes that were without a speck of impurity gazed at her fixedly.

The youth with looks of a kind that weren't often seen was carrying her in a sideways position. Perhaps this was what one would call the 'princess carry'. Although, unlike the princesses in picture books, the difference was she didn't have her arms wrapped around his neck.

'............'

For a girl of marriageable age, this might be the sort of situation to make her heart pound despite herself. Unfortunately, the long pure white ears made a complete waste of it all.

'Ah, I'm sorry…..anyway, hurry up and let me down.'

Alice had unthinkingly apologised to the voice that sounded as if he had been inconvenienced.

If she thought about it more, she had suddenly been picked up by a man that she did not know. Of course she would be angry, and despite it not being necessary for her to apologise, she'd ended up doing so somewhat reflexively.

Without taking notice of what Alice had said, the young man continued as before and without preamble…..said something terrifying.

'I shall let you down when we arrive. Alright, here we go.'

His voice as he answered her remained in her memory even now.

Alice had been brought to this mysterious country by force.

No matter how many times she recalled it, her encounter with him had been the absolute worst.

Stolen away as she was taking a nap. Brought to an unknown land.

Made to drink a strange and extremely bitter medicine mouth to mouth.

She had instinctively clenched her fist hard and punched him, and even if she did say so herself, she thought her counterattack back then was only a natural one.

'"Back then"....I must say, I was surprised, myself. I had not thought you would be someone so quick to violence.'

When the time she had come to the Country of Hearts became the topic of conversation, those had been the thoughts expressed by the perpetrator himself.

The first time they had met he had been nothing but a kidnapper to her, but now she had grown to know him a little better.

The name of her kidnapper was Peter White. His alias in this world was 'the White Rabbit.' It was a name that matched his appearance exactly. If one were to say it was easy to understand, then perhaps that was true.

She also knew that the youth with the very handsome face served as Prime Minister at Heart Castle.

At first she had wondered if someone as strange as he was fit for such an important role, but it hadn't taken her long after arriving in this country to realise that there was a difference in her judgements and the values of those around her.

The Prime Minister of Heart Castle was truly both capable and cruel. Apparently, his appearance as he indifferently carried out his government duties, together with his colour tone, gave him a reputation of even being aloof. Although, whenever she saw him as he appeared out of nowhere calling her name, he didn't seem like that way to her at all.

"Alice, I love you. You are the only one I love. I do not care for anyone else…..I am happy so long as you remain in this world."

Because, I love you.

Whenever she heard Peter's confessions of love, she couldn't help but think of a broken record. At any rate, he was persistent in telling her he loved her, like a record going round and round. Even if she tried to question him further, he would say something incomprehensible like 'There are no explanations necessary when it comes to love', and that was always the end of it.

'Ah, Alice, how sweet you are, how lovely. I love you, you're the only one I really love.'

'Yeah yeah…..I know.'

Alice didn't think the words of love that were on repeat and rewind were lies.

The White Rabbit who lived in Heart Castle was obsessed with cleanliness, that was a well known fact in this country. If you were a person he hated, it was likely you would not even be able to get close to him. It wouldn't be unusual to get shot instead.

And not just that…..Alice didn't see what value she had that he would tell a lie just to keep her here. If he thought that simply saying the sweet words 'I love you' were enough to have her remain here, one could say that that was a plan that had already failed.

—I've already had enough of romance.—

Every time she heard Peter tell her he loved her, she was sighing on the inside.

The end of her one and only previous romance had been a fitting one for someone such as her. That was why.

The person Alice had fallen in love with, and the person she had wanted to love her, had had his heart stolen by someone else.

The person he had fallen in love with was perfect, someone with whom she could not even hope to compete.

The memories of her first love were even now deeply ingrained in her mind.

Due to her experiences, she knew that romance was nothing but a waste of energy.

She wanted to become someone independent, who could live on her own without relying on others. She wondered at what point she had come to strongly feel that way.

In that mindset, despite there being no possibility of keeping her here with those sweet words, Peter repeated them again and again.

Almost in place of a greeting, he would smile saying 'I love you', his cold gaze changing to one of great joy as he looked at her.

A stalker-like rabbit man, with whom she had started off on the worst possible terms. Even though there was no way she ought to have been able to become friendly with someone like that….

It had been a certain daytime period—after she had grown used to going to see him after countless repeated visits.

‘Hello there, Peter.’

‘Ah! Alice, you’ve come to see me again! I’m so happy, I love you!’

Each time she visited Heart Castle, the White Rabbit would always pop up as if out of nowhere, his face full of smiles.

She had grown used to this red country with its constant flying bullets, and it was no longer unusual for Peter to invite her to have tea whenever she saw him at the Castle.

Every time she saw him always looking cheerful as he greeted her, Alice thought that she felt happy.

With a beautiful smile, his face expressing his joy, Peter called out her name, ‘Alice, Alice.’

‘These tea leaves are ones her Majesty had brought in from far away. It does not seem she has used any yet, but I think this tea would much rather prefer to be drunk by you instead.’

‘.....Vivaldi will be angry….’

‘Do not worry. After all, even when nothing has happened, she is always in a bad mood anyway. It won’t make any difference at all if she is a little displeased.’

The Prime Minister of Heart Castle, who was spoken of as coldhearted, without fail always came to see her whenever she made her appearance at the Castle.

At those times, he invited her for tea, led her to his room…..he devotedly took care of Alice, who was a guest unfitting for a Prime Minister to entertain in person.

In this world, Alice was a special existence called an ‘Outsider.’ Though she was called special, from her point of view, it wasn’t as if she could use magic or had any special knowledge, but apparently all people that came from an outside world were called thus.

Not just that— the existences known as Outsiders, while powerless and with low combat ability….had the characteristics to be loved by the inhabitants of this world.

“Most people here will come to love you the more you get to know them.”

Smiling smugly, that had been what the sickly looking dream demon had said in the dreams she had had since arriving at the Country of Hearts.

No matter who, it was a given you would feel more sympathetic towards someone the deeper your relationship grew. However, before they came to like you, you might be killed. That was the kind of dangerous world this place was.

However, it seemed there was always an exception to everything.

'............'

Even though they weren't even acquaintances when she had first come to this world, he had behaved favourably towards her from the beginning.

Though Alice didn't know him, he had spoken to her as if he already knew her and—had led her to this world.

Today, the ears of the young man waiting on her were standing straight up, he seemed to be in an extremely good mood. Just like he had when she had first come to this world.

Alice had of course only ever seen what Peter was like when he was with her. She had never seen what his face looked like, or how he acted, when she was not there.

'Right, here you are. Sorry for making you wait.'

'.....Thank you, Peter.'

On the red castle grounds, in the garden where red roses bloomed proudly, red eyes gazed at her happily.

Perhaps it had been these eyes she had been moved by. Alice had come to notice herself that the wariness that she should have had towards the White Rabbit, whom she had sent flying with a punch the first time they met, was gradually fading.

'Do you like it?'

Long ears aside, and the fact that he was a stalker who had kidnapped her, the reason she had ended up seeing him in a positive light…..might just because she had a weakness for good looks.

'Yeah…it's delicious.'

A fragrance and sweetness that reminded her of flowers. Its rich flavour was only to be expected of an item belonging to the Queen, who was known as a great lover of tea.

As Alice nodded, the White Rabbit seemed even happier, his eyes narrowing in delight, but then as if he had suddenly remembered something he asked another question.

'Hey, Alice. I have heard that you visit that forest by yourself…..is that true?'

'.....There you go, saying stuff like a stalker again….'

For some reason, it seemed that this rabbit, who didn't lack for anything when it came to looks, rank or ability, knew a lot about Alice's movements. Apparently, he at times had a unit of soldiers tail her, sending them out to check in on her.

'What are you saying! Truth be told, I want to be with you always, forever!! Without having to leave it to those faceless, just I, myself, always! If something were to happen to you, my beloved…..Aah!'

'Nothing will happen so you don't need to worry.'

She belonged to a territory that adjoined Heart Castle. She couldn't say that she had never been caught up in a gun battle before now, but those had been mostly internal quarrels between members of the Mansion.

‘I think those rules of yours are far more violent. It’s not right to use those good-natured soldiers on something like that.’

‘Something like that!? By that, you mean….aah, you want me to always be by your side….not those soldiers, you want me to always be with you…..that’s it, isn’t it!’

‘...........’

Ah, it was useless after all, no matter what she said to this Rabbit.

Sighing as if exasperated, Alice drank down the rest of her tea. And once she had, Peter immediately poured her a refill. Even though he never listened to what she said, he was a Rabbit that was strangely diligent when it came to things like this.

While breathing a sigh of relief at the flower-like fragrance, she spoke to further press her point.

‘Thank you…..But, you know, you’re the Castle’s Prime Minister, so please don’t throw aside your work so easily.’

‘My work…..There is no way it could ever be as important as you.’

‘............’

Most likely, work didn’t have any particular meaning to the White Rabbit.

However, it was different for Alice.

The work she had been given as her role in the territory in which she was now staying was not something she could take lightly.

‘A role isn’t something to be tossed aside, Peter.’

‘If it means that much to you…..I shall not take breaks from work.’

The White Rabbit nodded his head as if disappointed, but quickly recovered.

‘Then, in exchange, I shall have those faceless stay close to you! Ah, but, relying on the likes of them should something happen is…..in that case, it is not really a situation to be happy about.’

‘.....That’s why I said, stop it with the stalking already…..’

Fed up with a conversation with Peter that never reached a resolution, Alice decided to change the subject.

‘Um….so we were talking about the Forest, weren’t we…..Boris and Pierce are there as well, so it’s not that unusual a thing to do, is it?’

‘....Perhaps….’

Hearing her answer, the White Rabbit slightly cast his eyes downwards. However his reaction wasn’t due to the sudden change of topic.

Nonetheless, this wasn’t the first time she had seen Peter frown like this.

It was an exchange they had repeated countless times before now.

When she had talked about having gone to the Amusement Park, he had lamented, ‘If you go to such a crowded and bacteria-ridden place as that, you’ll get dirty.’ It seemed that to the White Rabbit, everything but himself was covered with germs. He really was a bother.

If she were to tell him she had gone to the Forest just now, there was no doubt his response would be the same. That was what Alice had thought, but contrary to her expectations, he continued on in a subdued tone.

‘I think… that it is best for you not to go to that Forest. No, I do not want you to go.’

Listening to his mysterious words, that sounded almost as if…..he was afraid of something, Alice tilted her head in puzzlement.

'—Why?'

'Within your heart…..there is still hesitation is there not?'

The red eyes were looking at her chest. But, what his piercing gaze was aimed towards was the stubborn, vague thing called a heart, hidden beneath her skin.

There was still a remaining sense of responsibility smoldering away inside Alice, that made her feel that she had to return to her original world. Though she should have already decided that Hatter Mansion was the place where she belonged, even then…..it was the truth that she wasn't quite able to forget that peaceful afternoon where her sister awaited her.

'............'

As she searched for the words to make a response, he slowly shook his head from left to right.

Like he was troubled, or as if anxious…..that was the kind of look he directed towards her.

'Those who are hesitating cannot help but hear the voices of those doors. And—you may never be able to return here once you have gone where they lead you. That is the kind of thing they are.'

'Yeah…..I know.'

She had also heard about the doors in the Forest, as well as the ones in Clover Tower, from the knowledgeable master of the Mansion.

A person would be able to go to the place they most desired if they passed through one of the whispering doors. In exchange…..they would be unable to go to a place they least expected.

She knew that.

Even so, the reason a part of her heart was swayed by the doors' voices…..was because the things she had abandoned had just been too important.

'Alice, I am happy so long as you remain in this world. So I beg of you, please don't go anywhere.'

'.....I won't.'

Perhaps she was slightly slow to answer because she needed a little time to collect her resolve. Or, maybe it was because of the hesitation she couldn't completely erase, she wasn't sure which.

Nodding once more, Alice repeated herself.

'I won't go anywhere.'

'Yes, Alice. If you can become happy in this world…..that is the most important thing to me.'

At last seeing Peter's expression soften, Alice smiled.

Strangely, she did not dislike the gaze that looked at her as if she were something dazzling.

After all, this wasn't romance. This wasn't at all related to something so troublesome.

Because the 'like' he had for her was surely the same as the 'like' she had for him. Because despite the stalker-ish things he said, he had already become an important friend to her.

She didn't feel as if his words of love were to be taken at face value.

Because Peter's love, and the goodwill she felt, ought to be similar things. She wasn't so foolish as to disdain the concern of a friend.

'Sorry for making you worry. And..thank you, Peter.'

'Not at all.'

Being at his side was comfortable. She had ended up realising that.

As if she had returned to that afternoon, as if she were spending time with her older sister…..that comfortable feeling might be what brought Alice to this Castle so frequently.

'Hey, might I have another cup of tea?'

'Of course! As many as you like, with pleasure.'

A happy looking face. The ears that stood straight up were like snow left behind in the tranquil atmosphere. They were of such purity that one would almost hesitate to touch them.

A pure white without a single speck of dirt. The strands of his hair were also the same kind of white.

A White Rabbit that didn't want to be touched by anyone. It was an odd thing that despite being that way, the only one Peter drew close to was herself.

However, being touched by him wasn't an unpleasant feeling for Alice either.

'It's delicious.'

After all, he didn't lie to her. He hid neither his malice nor his good will. She already knew now that even if there were things he kept secret, he would not lie.

'For you to be happy…that is all that I want.'

A peaceful noon time period.

For Alice, going to meet the White Rabbit that awaited her at the red Castle was something irreplaceably precious.

***

The place Alice was staying at was called Hatter Mansion.

The Country of Hearts was divided into three large powers that were constantly battling each other for territory, the Hatter Family was an organization of such vast scale as to make up one of those territories.

The man who was the head of the Mansion was called by his alias, "The Hatter." Blood Dupre. He led the Mafia organization and wore a peculiar hat as if to match his other name. In any case, he was a man who hated both being bored and anything irksome, with a troublemaking personality that enjoyed messing around with those in his vicinity, so long as it amused him.

And then there was the person called his right hand man, “The March Hare”, Elliot March. Though he was likely the one most thrown about by Blood’s whims, he was devoted to his boss, and apparently didn’t see it as any hardship at all. Despite always being busy running around for his work, those around him knew all too well how his face would light up with happiness the moment he set eyes on carrot cake.

At the mansion also lived the violent gatekeepers who would play around with him like they were siblings. Their names were Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum. However, publicly, they were more well known by their second name, “The Bloody Twins.” Swinging around axes that were taller than they were without any trouble, they loved violent games, and often invited Alice to play with them on their breaks.

Normally speaking, perhaps one might say they were altogether an excessively eccentric group for Alice, who was nothing more than a powerless young girl, to be living with. If anything, Alice couldn’t help but find it strange that she was allowed to stay with them just because she was an Outsider.

The first place she had visited once she had left the Clock Tower after having been taken to the Country of Hearts by Peter was this Mansion.

Almost about to be sliced to death by the dangerous gatekeepers and on the verge of being shot by a quick-tempered rabbit…..Luckily, due to a suggestion of their capricious Boss, Alice had come to live in the Mansion, where she still continued to stay even now.

Though this was a perilous world of flying bullets, Alice did not shut herself away in the Mansion.

This was likely because even people who were enemies of the Hatter did not involve Alice the Outsider in their territorial disputes.

Having become acquainted with each other, the leaders of the various territories welcomed her visits.

The unsociable Clockmaker and the lost Knight. The owner of the Amusement Park with his nonsensical music and the pink Cheshire Cat. The crimson Queen and—the White Rabbit that had pulled her into this world, also numbered among them.

However, that status quo had changed greatly due to the sudden move.

Alice, who had commenced her work once the uninvited Rabbit had been chased out of the garden, shifted her gaze.

‘............’

What she was looking at was a large window. It reflected herself wearing her white maid outfit. However, what Alice’s eyes were directed towards was beyond the glass.

Even though she knew that it wasn’t there…..she could help but unconsciously search for it.

Before, from this window that was the closest to the highest point of the Mansion, she had been able to see the Clock Tower where the always brusque Clockmaker lived. But now, no matter where she looked, she could no longer see it.

In its place, was land of a deep green and the shadow of a spire that struck up towards the heavens as if to tear through it.

The only thing the two places visibly had in common was an unclouded sky. Although even that might change depending on the fickleness of the shifting time periods.

'............'

In the same way that a clock hand moves, so too does the land. That is what moving meant in this world.

All people and buildings attached to each territory, including the land moved, and the Country also changed in unison with them.

In the previous Country of Hearts, there was Heart Castle, the Hatter Mansion, the Amusement Park, and the Clock Tower.

Now, a vast Forest stretched out where the Amusement Park once was, and in place of the Clock Tower, which had stood at the Country's centre, was the Clover Tower.

'.....I wonder how Julius and Gowland are doing.'

A sense of nostalgia welled up the moment she spoke the names of the friends that were now far away. Both of them had been important people to Alice.

When she had first been brought here by the White Rabbit, she had only ever thought of wanting to wake up, that she now worried over the well-being of this place's inhabitants was a strange thing.

‘Is there something interesting out there, young lady?’

‘! Blood!’

Perhaps because she had been concentrating so hard on the scenery outside, Alice turned around as if surprised by the voice that had suddenly called out to her.

As expected, she saw the shadow of a tall man wearing a black silk hat.

‘It is rare for you to lose focus while working…..did something out of the ordinary happen?’

Slightly tilting his hat, which was decorated with roses, feathers and place cards, the man smiled.

It was the sort of amused, meaningful smile that made you want to fill in the blanks despite yourself.

He was the leader of the Hatter Mansion territory, and also the Boss of the Family. Blood Dupre.

‘.....It’s nothing. I was just looking outside for a little bit.’

Normally, the likes of a maid-in-training would not be allowed to speak like this to the master of the Mansion. However, the person who hated anything tedious didn’t seem at all concerned, and instead vaguely tilted his head.

‘With such a melancholy looking face as that? I thought that perhaps your sweetheart might be out there, but it seems I was mistaken.’

‘Blood!’

She made her voice sound a little stern in response to his teasing, but the man’s amusement showed no signs of abating. His shoulders shaking, he replied with ‘I’m joking!’, but it was ambiguous as to how serious he really was.

A little while later after he had finished laughing to his heart’s content, the Hatter spoke again as if he had remembered something.

‘Now then….you have your break after this, don’t you? I’ve gotten some books that you might like, so you should come read them.’

He didn’t specify where, but the place Blood was talking about, and Alice’s reading room, was none other than his own private room.

A man and a woman together in a closed room might make one imagine there was something untoward going on, but so far they had never once crossed that line.

It was just the two of them in the room. Alice would read her new books, while Blood made progress on his work. Sometimes she would act as her master’s tea drinking companion but….that was all.

It was a distance that was too close for them to be called friends. However, even so, the girl knew well that Blood’s taste in books was similar to her own, so she had never once turned down his invitations.

Although, she couldn’t deny that perhaps because of his earlier teasing, her face looked a little discontented.

‘.....Thank you. Once I’m done here, I’ll take you up on your offer.’

‘Fufufu. Then, come on over during the next time period—Ah, and also-’

As if to detain Alice as she was about to return to her work, Blood brought his face nearer.

‘-’

Their faces were so close they were almost touching.

The scent of roses grew stronger as the deep blue gaze approached her. Whether it came from the roses in his hat, or from the man himself—she didn’t know.

‘It hasn’t been long since the move to the Country of Clover. I’ve spoken to you before about how the land is unstable, haven’t I?’

‘Yes. I remember.’

Right after the move came a period of instability. Countless times before when Alice had gone to visit other territories, the roads had changed, and she had ended up coming out onto places that were different than the ones she had expected.

‘After a while it will stabilise, so until then, please refrain from going out unnecessarily. If something happened to you, I can imagine all too well the uproar Elliot and the Gatekeepers will be in.’

‘Oh, are you not worried for me too, Blood?’

She had asked trying to get back at him, but apparently it had ended in failure.

The smile on the Hatter’s face deepened, and he drew his face in even closer than before. Eyes that seemed to almost suck her up into their depths came directly near to Alice.

‘Of course I worry for you. You are an important young lady to me as well.’

‘-!’

If she moved her lips they would be touching. It was that kind of ambiguous distance.

Nevertheless, deftly letting only their breaths intertwine, Blood whispered.

‘You are already a member of this Mansion, Alice. So that you don’t get lost going somewhere all on your own without I, your master, knowing….please take care.’

‘............’

Having finished saying what he wanted to say, the man at last stepped back. As Alice glared at him as if annoyed at being unable to hide her slightly reddened face, he unexpectedly was not laughing.

‘Though I may say so, you have a lot of friends all over the place…..so I don’t suppose you will be able to stop going out.’

As if troubled, he shrugged his shoulders and continued. She didn’t feel the same overpowering pressure from his behaviour as when he had been directly near.

‘.....You’re right. Hiding away in this Mansion doesn’t suit me.’

That was why Alice was able to continue speaking in her usual tone.

‘I’ve promised everyone too…..And, we don’t know when the next move will be, I’d hate not being able to meet my friends.’

‘My my…..what a difficult young lady.’

Averting her gaze from the man who was smiling bitterly, the girl declared herself.

‘But, the fact that my home is here is for certain. The only place I’ll return to is this Mansion…..I won’t get lost.’

‘.....Is that so. Then, I don’t mind.’

Whether he had given in or she had persuaded him, she wasn’t sure, but after finishing speaking the man leisurely turned his back and began to walk.

Clack clack, with steady steps the white-clad back grew further away.

Making sure from the corner of her eye that it had done so, Alice once more turned her gaze towards the other side of the window.

’That's right, after all, I’ve decided to remain here.’

The words she spoke sounded somehow as if she were telling herself that.

What was reflected in the girl’s field of vision was a Forest of a singular shade of green.

The whispering, enticing Forest of Doors spread out there.

Doors that were like magic, that would take the person who turned the knob to their most preferred place.

However—once you had opened one and passed through, there was no guarantee you would be able to return to the same place.

When she had been in the Country of Hearts, Alice had decided to remain here in the Mansion. Her regrets towards her previous world hadn’t necessarily disappeared, but even so, the place she had thought that she wanted to remain at was this Mansion of dangerous Mafia.

At the beginning she had been a freeloader, but it was different now.

Her position at the Mansion might just be that of an apprentice maid. It might be a job that anyone could do.

But even so, this Mansion was already home to her.

The master who was not satisfied unless he could be slightly sarcastic about everything, the number 2 who was a carrot fanatic, and the Twins who ran up to her while holding sharp objects.

Each and every one of them, including the maids and servants, were already family to Alice.

‘.....I will always return here.’

While speaking as if to tell herself that.

Since she knew the words that the doors whispered.

The girl’s green eyes didn’t quite leave the window.

#alice in the country of clover #heart no kuni no alice #hnkna #otome game #translation

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redolentgrove · 1 year ago

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*The Giratina approached Loki.* Giratina: Wow, you know, I've seen many faces around here but none that could compare to yours. If you were a gemstone, everyone would want you for their own. I find it truly fascinating the number of universes there are and I have not seen many where Pokémon are centaur-like like yours. You mentioned something about a performance. If I may enquire, what does that entail?

Loki turned to face the Giratina with a casual glance, only just slightly realising once his speech continued, just how actively he had been flirting with her.

Well. This one certainly had a way of introducing himself, didn't he?

The hybrid's face flushed a bright red in response to the gemstone remark, ears perking wildly. Her tail slashed to and fro behind her, betraying what would normally be a more reserved, level-headed reaction. Maybe it was that he had caught her off-guard... or perhaps, even, it was the gemstone remark. She thought back to another very special human in her life, several centuries ago.

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

"What a remarkable Pokemon you are, Jolokia."

She found herself staring at a fair-skinned woman, thin hair with dimming, almost unseeing hazel eyes. A hand gently cupped at her cheek, and the human had a warm, comforting smile on her face; though her body had been wrinkled and spotted with age, it still felt just as familiar to the taur as it ever had. The elder woman continued in her creaking, time-worn voice.

"To think, so many others here in Floaroma never understood what makes you so special. Your gentle nature, your unique shape, a soft, inviting face that seems to seek love and validation..."

The human let out a soft chuckle. "Look at you. I wish I could make out your shape a bit better... these eyes just don't see well anymore. But that peppermint scent is as clear as the day we met... there are things I've forgotten. I think. But your aromas, the feel of your fur... it's like you're still that lost, little Skymintaur that wandered up to me and wormed into my heart."

Loki's eyes watered somewhat as the woman's hand scritched at her cheek. And the speech continued,

"As much as you're a sweet flower... you've also been more than that. They talked about diamonds in the rough... things others overlook because they're flawed. You're not that, Jolokia. All the years, the visits... you remember me. You still consider me your mother. You've brought me so much joy and you've brought this whole family priceless moments. Jolokia... I love you. You're a priceless little gemstone."

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

The imagery faded almost immediately, though the final words echoed a couple of times in her mind. Loki snapped back to reality, suddenly coming to terms with the fact that she hadn't properly responded to the Giratina's question. She shook her head, wiping a stray teardrop from her left eye.

"H-huh? Oh, uh, thank you... uh, sir?" She seemed a bit distracted, and looked at her surroundings. "I... I'm sorry, just, had a bit on my mind there. I... universes?" She thought back to the invitation. "Ah, right... actually, I'm pretty rare in my own universe. Most of the Pokemon are either standardly-shaped or anthropomorphic. I'm not going to bore you with the genetics and science behind it all... just know that in all honestly, I didn't always look like this, with the centaur-like shape. Nor this particular mix of species... or this gender..."

She tilted her head some. "Oh, the performance... wait, wh- oh!" It clicked now what Singularity had meant. "Oh, you must mean my daughter Bijoux's performance. Yeah, she brought a concert grand harp here; she said she had a really special song to sing that she thought would be really important and go over well with the crowd of legendaries and mythicals. But she still hasn't told me what exactly it's about, just that it might also be relatable for me..."

( @ask-the-royal-absol )

#sinsibgala #singularity giratina #loki leafmintaur #who's that woman?#it is a mystery #maybe ask her about humans after the event :3

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valeriesarkive · 2 years ago

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Hard to forget, pt. 1

✿ Pairing: Female reader x Taehyung ✿ Genre: Romance, twin flames ✿ AU: Coffeeshop ✿ Warnings: mature, explicit language ✿ Word count: 2.7k

Summary: Just before sunset, that is the time when lovers meet again. Did you know that everything is divinely planned? There are no coincidences. It’s been in front of your eyes all this time and what truly matters is that both of you are here.

You have to find the reason why your paths have crossed in this life.

The answer is there, right in front of you.

The breeze brushed gently against his face, making his eyes narrow at the sea-scented caressed. His crimson lips widened in a beautiful smile hard to forget.

It wasn't the first time I'd seen him around here. He would come back every day around 5 o’clock.

Just before sunset.

With slow but determined steps, he approaches the bar to order his favorite drink: an iced americano with extra ice. Under his arm rests a thick book that change every week and, from his slightly open shirt, hung his glasses adorned with a hand-woven rope.

After receiving his coffee, he sits at the same table as usual. There, he stayed long enough for me to memorize every feature of his defined face; his heart-shaped lips, his round nose and his dark eyes.

“Why don't you just ask him out instead of staring at him for hours?”

Lara whispers in my ear, causing me to jump a little in my place. My elbow slips down the bar, hitting my face in the process.

“Dammit, Lara” I whisper, caressing my cheek.

“You do know that every time he comes to the café you keep staring at him creepily?” She goes silent, expecting me to answer.

“Stop it, okay? I do know that, it’s just… I cannot help myself," I reply, shrugging.

“But hey, I don’t blame you. I mean… who wouldn’t keep looking at that hottie?” She said while returning to work.

I attempt to hide the blush of my cheeks with my hands, trying to avoid the feeling of shame and guilt before picking up my chores long forgotten. Drying the dishes with a cloth never seemed a hard task until now, since I’m avoiding at all costs my friend’s gaze fixed on my back. I give up seconds later…

Lara could be unbearably persistent if she wanted to.

"Go on, ask," I turn around to face her.

She looks at me with literal sparkles on her eyes. Her body leans on one side of the bar, crossing her arm with a fake seriousness on her face knowing deep down that she was dying to let out some high-pitched squeal full of excitement.

"Well…" Lara frowns in thought. “It seems strange to me that when you started working here a few weeks ago, he started coming over more often than usual.”

“Or it may just be nothing. Maybe he has more free time or I don't know, I've never stopped thinking about it.” I shrug my shoulders, again.

“Perhaps…”

Before she could continue, a new customer interrupted her. I mentally thank the gray-haired man in front of us. I knew that my answer hadn't helped Lara to draw any conclusions, but it was the only one I could give, not knowing that man's reasons either.

I doubted that his constant presence was because of me, maybe he just liked our coffee, the view or the music, I don't know! There could be so many motives...

That is the moment when lovers meet again. Did you know that everything is divinely planned?

There are no coincidences here.

❊

The afternoon was a bit busier than I thought, thanks to the beginning of high season, which only meant one thing: crowded places with tourists.

I sit on a small bench behind the bar and sigh from exhaustion. My feet throbbed in pain from being standing most of the day. I glance at the clock on the wall, shortly after feeling relieved that it was only an hour before closing time.

My gaze runs around the place until I reach his silhouette, taking me by surprise that he was also looking at me. I smile out of courtesy to which he returns to me.

A familiar warmth rises up my cheeks, turning them bright red. I saw how the brunette chuckled at my natural, and somewhat embarrassing reaction. I shyly turn my face quickly to hide it behind my rebel curls.

The connection between two lost souls is immediate, as well as the growing attraction between them, even if it is not obvious at first glance.

Carefully, I look again at his features and his soft profile. The dimming light of the setting sun shone on one side of his face, while on the other gradually faded. His brows were slightly furrowed as he was immersed in his reading while biting the inside of his cheek. Small waves of wind touches his now rebel hair, leaving his forehead visible.

I grab my small sketchbook that remained in a hiding spot under the bar, checking on the customers before I open it. I look the full pages with unknown faces and, even so, his face surpassed the others in quantity. My hand starts drawing soft lines on an empty spot, guiding myself with the reminiscence of my memories of the sunset kissing his caramel skin.

It was almost closing time.

More customers were leaving, yet he remained seated while calmly reading.

While I was finishing small details of the sketch, an unknown feeling of familiarity came to my mind and a few brief flashbackssuddenly flooded me…

“____.”

“Tae!”

My notebook slips through my hands, causing a dry sound when it falls on the ground.

"____, are you okay?" Lara asks, helping me to pick up my sketchbookand pencils.

"Yes, I think so…"

I shake my head in a vague attempt to clear my mind of any kind of absurd thoughts. Probably that was a bad move of my imagination, asking me to draw some invented story. My breath fails me and my hands shake slightly.

But if it was just my imagination, why did it felt so real?

I excuse myself before running to the loo, blinded with tears. I look at my reflection in the mirror, my face was slightly sweaty and pale.

When you really pay attention you will feel alienated, as if that face you see is unalike.

But how could they be memories if they weren't mine?

For an instant, that seemed like hours, the rapid palpitations inside my chest stopped.

Contradictory, I know. But if I was sure of anything, it was that person wasn’t me.

This is the most dangerous for those who refuse to see their reality, since they will live in lies for the rest of their lives.

❊

The warm breeze hits my face when I open the door of the café. I take a deep breath, clutching my hand to the handles of my tote bagbefore heading down the stairs. The night was clear, so you could clearly see the stars that decorated the black sky.

I walk aimlessly for several minutes trying to avoid any kind of thoughts, while my body moves by itself among people.

Closing time was harder than I thought. After unconsciously traveling to what seemed to be old memories, I was unable to concentrate even on the easiest task to accomplish. Lara, noticing my distraction, offered to finish what was left so I could go out to eat something earlier because of my pale skin.

I take one last bite of the sandwich I don't remember packing, after throwing the plastic bag into the garbage. I only remembered bringing the small sketchbook with me.

I felt that the answer I was looking for was right there, but why?

My attention gets caught to this particular store full of handmade accessories. Jewelry made with sea shells and small stones with different colors. My legs act on their own as I get even closer and observe everything carefully.

"It’s a beautiful night, isn't it?" Says the woman, suddenly appearing from inside the shop.

"It is," I smile crookedly.

Her eyes narrow a little, while her wrinkles become clearer below the streetlights. Her hair is black and long, but a few gray hairs wouldn’t go unnoticed.

“Were you looking for something in particular?” She asks politely.

"Not really," I shake my head. “I’m not sure why I came here, my body just guided me to this place.”

“Well, everything has a reason, little one…”

The lady smiles again, but this time I notice the feeling of ease and comfort. I cross my arms at the sudden chill that runs through my body.

“I see that you are somewhat closed and distrustful, there is nothing to fear…” Her warm hands rubbed my bare arm.

"I… I don't know what you're trying to say."

“That's because you’re refusing to see what you've had in front of you all this time. The universe listens and sends signals that you have to accept. You should trust more in your feminine intuition and you’ll see how the view changes.”

“I'm sorry you got the wrong idea about me, but I don’t believe in this kind of thing. Again, I’m sorry if I wasted your time.” I back away from the lady and her store, cutting abruptly any kind of connection that I was unconsciously feeling with this place.

“It will never be a waste of time to guide a lost soul that’s crying out for help.”

I ran away as fast as I could from that place. I didn't know what was happening today, but there are so many strange events that made my head throb with pain and, once again, my tears flows without warning.

"You've been remembering things, haven't you?" The lady yells before I get lost in the crowd.

I collide with more than one person. I turn around to look at the smirk on her face. Was she... was she spying on me? Was she a regular customer at the café? No, that couldn’t be possible. There was no way for her to know that.

My legs take long strides until I get back to the lady, my mouth opens to ask her how she knew about that but my vocal chords suddenly close, preventing any sound from coming out of my throat. The woman takes her index finger over the bridge of her nose, alluding to her third eye.

The woman offers me to walk her home, and long before I could say no, my body is guided by her unknown vibe.

The strong smell of bushes, incense and sulfur reaches my lungs once I step in her home. The terracotta-colored walls were decorated with plants hanging from the ceiling, while the corners were lined with shelves with jars, strange-shaped boxes, and stones inside.

The house was close to the beach, so in the background you could hear the waves beat against the stones, and from its facade I could deduce that it was more than 50 years old.

The woman tells me to sit at the brown couch, disappearing seconds later down the narrow hallway. The woman returnes with a hot kettle and a few cups on a tray. In the midst of my uncertainty, I accept a cup of tea and take my first sip of the hot drink.

The sound of waves settles between us.

"How did you know I had 'memories'?" I interrupt the silence among us.

"You could say that I am a witch, as historically we women with ancestral knowledge have been called." Her slim figure occupies the front seat.

A small box with a thick lid steals my attention. It was adorned with some golden design of what seems to be a tarot card. Her long bony hands were already shuffling the cards with neat skill, before splitting the deck in two and taking one by one.

"I see..." She whispers.

“What?” I ask curiously.

"Patience, ____.”

My hand that was holding the cup suddenly lost its strength. I carefully leave the mug on the plate. I don’t recall giving her my name at any moment, how did she…

“How do you know my name...?” I look at her skeptically. She grins at me, as if she was having fun with this situation.

“Have you ever heard of reincarnation?” She interlocks her hands on her lap.

“I've heard very little on the subject. But as I already told you, I’m not one to believe much on these types of things.”

The woman gives me a warm smile after cupping my hands between hers. Weirdly, her affectionateness makes my muscles relax.

“I'll explain briefly then. The belief in reincarnation is very old and till now it’s been present in almost every religion, especially in the dharmic ones, originating in Hinduism. This belief affirms that every human being is a reincarnated soul and they come and go like a cycle called the wheel of karma. Each soul, after shedding its material body, chooses when, where, in which family and in whom they are going to incarnate.

>>It is also believed that each soul has an affective bond with another, a connection so strong that it will always be present in the life you decided to be. There are soulmates and twin flames. The last one are characterized by their strongest bonds of love, as well as a shared karma that must be cleared in their next life. The signs that we know our twin flame is when our body experiences an extraordinary attraction, an unusual passion and an excessive love without any logic. Your heart stops beating for seconds, you can feel chills all over your skin. You also experience feelings with an intensity that you cannot even explain.

She goes silent once more, deeply analyzing the message of the cards in front of her.

“I can see here that you already know that twin flame but you have refused to listen and perceive the signs that the universe has been sending you during this time. I understand your skepticism, however intuition never fails…”

I look at the cards in front of me for a few seconds in an attempt to process everything that the lady told me.

It's been in front of you all this time.

My eyes are clouded again by tears wanting to come out abruptly. I couldn’t bring myself to understand why this sudden feeling of sadness and pain inside my chest. The big lump that was forming in my throat preventing me from saying a word.

“You may have coincided in this life because you have some unfinished business. I couldn't tell you what exactly, since I am only the carrier of this message that you had to listen to. You must find why on your own and free your souls from the karma that brought you here, my girl…”

❊

I look for my shelter in the pale light of the moon.

Despite having a hard time understanding everything about that strange woman, something deep inside of me knew that it was the only rational response to so much uncertainty.

And if they are here and now, is what truly matters. You just have to find the reason why your paths have crossed in this life.

I take my sketchbook out of my bag, turning the pages quickly until I reach the ones with his face. My fingers slowly run over the delicate lines of his masculine face, abruptly remembering having drawn similar faces to his long ago.

The answer is there, right in front of you.

I throw the book away and jump, heading to my desk and picking up all the worn-out notebooks, collecting them in my arms to sit down on the floor again. I sigh before opening them, afraid to find whatever it’s in there.

Just look it up.

I open the first notebook, then the second and finish with the tenth, all opened on different sheets. I cover my mouth with my hands to prevent the loud sob from escaping my lips. My tears slips down my cheeks once more that day.

The answer was the same on every page; there he was, portrayed in different ways and yet, still capturing his essence. That same face I’ve been drawing these past weeks, is the same I’ve been illustrating years ago, long before I’ve met him.

That means… I’ve been getting these memories back without realizing?

Every sketchbook belonged to each year in which I have dedicated myself to this art, which meant that I had been drawing a stranger for the past four years…

❊✿ ❊✿ ❊✿ ❊✿ ❊✿ ❊✿ ❊✿ ❊✿ ❊✿ ❊✿ ❊✿ ❊✿ ❊✿ ❊✿ ❊✿ ❊✿ ❊

Note: Hello! My name is Valerie, but you can call me Vee. This is the first story I'm sharing here, so I'm excited to finally let this precious short novel out. I really hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. As you can see at the beginning, this the first part of this novel, I'm planning on doing three more parts, make sure to follow me so you won't miss when I post!♡ Leave a comment if you liked it, my dm's are as well opened for constructive critics.

#ficswithluv #thv #tae bts #tae x female reader #kim taehyung #taehyung x reader #taehyung fic #vantecore #thv users #bts thv #v bts taehyung #bts au fic #bts fanfic

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thewhumpcaretaker · 10 months ago

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The Broken Veil: Chapter 3 - Miracle

Image source from Pinterest

Unfortunately, I've had a mental health crisis while writing this story. I'm planning to stop immediately and to post all my existing chapters at once to prevent myself from returning to the project again and again. That's somewhat good for you because it means you get more chapters at once, but it's also a shame because it means we'll only get to chapter seven. It has to be done, though.

To anyone out there dealing with maladaptive daydreaming, limerence, mania, or psychotic symptoms, please know that I'm thinking of you. Take care of yourselves and don't let the fantasy pull you in any deeper than you're comfortable with.

Summary: John Wick has just agreed to kill Gianna D'Antonio, repaying the marker that gave him a life with Helen. However, Helen is trying to contact John from the afterlife, to show him that it is possible to stop the cycle of violence – not by forfeiting his own life, but by creating a fundamental shift in international systems and perhaps even the balance of good and evil in this world. But he doesn’t have to do it alone. She’s coming back.

“Heaven did not seem to be my home; and I broke my heart with weeping to come back to earth; and the angels were so angry that they flung me out into the middle of the heath on the top of Wuthering Heights; where I woke sobbing for joy.” - Catherine Earnshaw, Wuthering Heights

Time is disordered as it touches the border of a timeless land.

He can almost see her, can feel her within reach.

His soul is pressed against the veil, on the brink of crossing. While there is still direction, he pushes towards Helen, single-minded. He is going home to her. They have not been so close since that day in the hospital. His life…she can feel it throb into her as if only the thinnest sheet of fabric divides them.

It’s time for the final stretch. She lets the force of his consciousness guide her towards him. His heartbeat thrumming in terror, his heartbeat soon to be stilled. She can feel the heat of his skin, his yet-unbroken skull, and the sudden pain of breaking. She has skin, she has a skull, she feels the impact of the bullet. The guilt circulating through his veins, falling forever in his stomach, bringing him down. NO.

Inhale. Helen draws back. Exhale. She slams forward into her husband’s body.

Sound, light, sensation. The veil is broken. She has him in her arms.

The floodlights are blinding, the gunshot is deafening, the air against her flesh is a sensory overload. God, it’s so different to be alive. She had almost forgotten.

She has him in her arms, and something has struck her back and fallen harmless to the floor.

Ares stares. On instinct, she fires again and keeps firing. She empties the clip but Helen has died once and cannot die again. It’s not body armor. It can’t be, because Helen is nude. There is only one small blaze of silver on her ring finger.

“John, open your eyes,” she whispers. “We’re not done.”

He looks so innocent, so confused on his knees below her. He looks only upward, respectful of her body, his chin tilted up into her face, his hyperventilating breath shuddering over her naval. “I’ve come home to you.”

“No,” she shakes her head. “I’ve come home to you.” For a moment, she can’t bring herself to turn away from him.

Ares’ backup is stepping out of the shadows, guns trained on Helen.

“Identify yourself,” someone says.

Helen turns, her body frontally exposed to their gaze and they don’t know where to look. His head is still shielded behind her abdomen. She fixes her eyes on Ares. Quietly, “My name is Helen Wick. And you…” she begins advancing, slowly, “You tried to shoot my husband.”

Behind her, John’s eyes range over the ground in a daze, caught by some flicker of light. It’s littered with crushed metal like golden coins. The same shapes he’s seen a thousand times, the same shapes that fell from his clothing earlier. Flattened bullets. It finally registers. Ares tried to shoot him, and she shot Helen. She shot Helen.

John picks up his gun.

***

Another wave of gunfire, but this time, it’s answered by a volley from between the two pale legs that frame John Wick like Roman pillars, and there’s three men down beside Ares. Some begin to flee but Ares orders them to advance. He tries to lunge forward and Helen pushes him back, covering his face. Bullets are slamming into his body, and he’d double over if she weren’t holding him upright, shoving him back down the tunnel away from the gunfire. Her hands are touching him. He’s in physical contact with Helen. The rush of it wrings some strangled sound from his chest. Then a different rush hits again: They shot her, they shot her, kill them all.

He's hurtling down the tunnel to where he stowed the M4, hand in hand with her, firing over his shoulder. He swings her smoothly around a corner, out of sight. She’s protesting but he can’t stand it if she gets hit one more time, it doesn’t matter if she’s bulletproof or not. It’s cocked in his hands and he becomes a storm.

***

John is not aware of how many times Helen saves his life. She walks in his wake, stepping over the dead, her arms open, trying to take up the whole space of the tunnel, breaking into a run when anyone gets too close. The rocks do not cut her bare feet and the bullets do not sting but she doesn’t want to be dragged away from John if someone gets their hands on her, so she keeps moving. She picks up a pistol from one of the fallen and struggles with it, but she’s never done this before and it takes her longer than it should to realize it’s empty. She wonders if this would have been easier if she were still incorporeal, ironically. She could have just slammed into the barrier and what she wanted would have…happened. But now her one power is her body, and she places it between John and the enemy over and over again.

At some point, he runs out of bullets and she watches him throw his gun at a man’s head, then sweep another to the ground and strangle him between his legs. He’s a force of nature. It feels almost like a violation to see this, somehow even more intimate than the time they’ve shared in bed. This is not for her eyes. The sweat plasters his hair against his forehead and he makes low, animal grunts. In the silence of precious moments spent reloading, his panting echoes down the tunnel. She’s desperate to hold him – whether to comfort him or to praise him or to hold him back or to join her hand with his on the trigger, she does not know, but she sees the labor of his body and she wants to be as one with him.

Finally, the shots stop ringing. There’s only his breathing as he still spins in paranoia, checking all directions, ragged waves filling the space from wall to wall with overwhelmingly intimate noise, then gradually slowing. “John.” She approaches him carefully. He has still hardly looked at her yet.

“…Helen?” He stares at her as if for the first time.

“Yes. It’s me.”

Her skin glows angelic in the floodlights. He can barely hear himself speak. “This is impossible.”

“A miracle, maybe.”

His hand moves haltingly toward her shoulder and caresses it. Her touch does not feel distant. Her voice does not come from somewhere impossibly far away. He can smell her scent, that little, warm, animalistic scent that doesn’t even come to him in dreams. He’s speechless. “Are you…what…” He struggles for another long moment. “You were dead.”

“I am dead. But I’m also alive. The veil is broken.”

Again, that strangled sound from inside him, and he throws his bulk against her wordlessly, his head buried in her shoulder. She can feel his face twist up against the side of her neck as he breaks down and just sobs. Her arms pull crushingly tight around his back, fists clenching handfuls of his suitcoat, unwilling to let him go. They stand that way for a long, long time.

“I love you. I love you and you’re gone, you’re-gone,” he gasps, fighting against the hope of what cannot be. His chest is heaving against hers. “I…miss you so much.”

“John.” She lifts his face, which is marbled over with a glaze of blood and water. He half turns away, overwhelmed by the sight of her, but she holds him fast. “I love you so much. I am here.”

She sees something finally register. “God. How?”

“I wish I had answers, but there are no answers on the other side. I just kept trying to get back.”

He sinks against the wall, his eyes ranging over the mass of bodies lining the corridor in horror. “You saw…” He hides his face in his hands and chokes out, “I’m so sorry. You were never, ever supposed to see me like this.”

She drops beside him and pulls him back into her arms. “No. No no no no. You don’t understand. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

When he’s calm enough she pulls back and looks at him with fire in her eyes. “You were right to kill them. I’ve wanted to say this to you for so long, ever since I died, but I couldn’t speak. You’re allowed. You’re allowed to be angry with the people who are caging you in, who are trying to take lives like ours and twist them into a wreckage, who are forcing you to do what you know to be wrong. The fact that people have made you kill your own friends, kill just to be with me, kill just to keep breathing...it's an atrocity.” He’s shaking with tears but she doesn’t even pause for a breath. “They've backstabbed you, treated you like a human weapon, took your childhood, took your peace. It's not your fault. They tried to twist you up in every way they could and STILL you never became a monster underneath, STILL you're tender and uphold your ethics and care so much about people that it scares you. I love that about you. And I love you. I love you so much. That is what I meant to tell you with that damn rose. I wasn’t saying you should pay with your life. I want you to fight back even harder. Don’t do a god damn thing they say.” He presses his face into her shoulder again and wails with anguished joy.

At length, gasping, he lifts his head and manages to speak. “I love you too. I need this, I…you have no idea how much I need to hear that from you. I can’t-I can’t live without you. I fall apart.”

She corrects him gently. “You can, but I don’t want you to have to do it alone. I’m here with you.”

“But I don’t know what to do. What choice did I have, other than completing the job or accepting my fate? I’ll die for not fulfilling the marker. I will be HUNTED, Helen, you don’t understand. Santino will take out a hit on me. The only way that stops is when he’s dead. Then I’ve killed the marker holder and it’s High Table jurisdiction. That’s international, and there will be thousands-”

“Not if you take down the entire High Table.”

For a long time, he just stares. “That’s an army. That’s war.” But he’s almost smiling. She IS smiling.

“You want things to be different. I want to help you make them different. I didn’t understand this when I was alive, but there are things you and I are capable of…there are things that need to change…We’ll talk. But for now we need to keep you safe. We can’t stay here. Are you…okay? How bad are you hurt?”

He just looks at her, struggling to speak. He thought the only person who would ever care to ask him that was dead. She waits. It’s like old times. He always seemed to have trouble starting a sentence, let alone finishing one. “…Nothing that won’t heal.”

“And are you okay? How are you feeling? I’ve given you quite a shock.”

“I…” His vision blurs over with tears again. “I…” At first it seems that this is too difficult a sentence to finish altogether. “I will remember this day for the rest of my life.”

She pulls him up, taking the weight of exhausted muscles and he can’t resist embracing her once again when he’s upright. He starts to give her his suitcoat and she stops him. “No, you need that. I can take any clothes, I just need to be decent for the street.” He starts pulling the jacket unceremoniously off of the nearest corpse. It engulfs both her hands and hangs just below her privates, making her look like a smitten teenager wrapped in her boyfriend’s hoodie. She picks up the body’s handgun. John peeks at her sideways and downright blushes, then insists they take the pants and boots too.

He exhales, still trying to steady himself. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

She kisses his cheek lightly. “Believe it.”

He’s laughing, actually laughing. He feels young again. Waves of giddiness keep washing over him. He takes his wife’s hand in his – his wife’s hand! – and they pick their way through the catacombs towards the clear Italian night. He would skip if he weren’t limping, but instead, each time he stumbles, she takes his weight and keeps him walking. He has never been supported by someone after killing. Never, even when she was alive. He would come home two days later, mostly mended, and she would tend to him then, but the exit from battle itself had always been a long, painful march of shame. It is so humbling to see how she steadies him, waits for him, pauses now and then to hold him again, staving off shock with the warmth of her body, even knowing everything he did. This may be a dream, but he doesn’t care to wake up.

Standing at the mouth of the catacombs, there’s a figure, leaning against a car. Helen can feel John go tense as he recognizes Cassian. The figure’s arm stays at his side, but it’s close to his gun. “Who’s with you, John?”

They’re still hidden in shadow. “First, why are you here?”

“I’m curious why you lied to me.”

“…Felt like getting shot.”

“You got over that pretty quick.”

“Yeah.”

Helen steps forward, the light breaking over her features as she does so. She extends her hand to Cassian. “Helen Wick. Pleased to meet you.”

Cassian doesn’t move. He looks straight at John. “The fuck?”

“Shake hands with my wife.” It’s not a request.

He does. “I apologize for the incredulity. I’ve been told you’re dead.”

“It’s quite alright.” She makes no further explanation.

“For what it’s worth…good for you. Both of you. Love is unlikely in our circumstances. I understand that on a personal level.” He steps up to John. “John, you spared my ward. Someone close to me. She and I both want to know how we can repay you.”

“Gianna wants to know what I expect from her.”

He stiffens. “I genuinely am grateful to you. But yes, that is the chief reason I’m here. We appreciate what you’ve done. But I hope you understand that she can’t single handedly make the marker go away.”

“I don’t need to be spared by the High Table. I didn’t do it for a debt.”

“Then why? I get it, you have a death wish, but…this puts both of you in danger.”

“I’m not dying. And sure as hell no one is killing Helen. We live on our own terms now.”

He frowns with pity. John will be executed, that’s unavoidable. “Fair enough. You’d better take your head start then. The hit hasn’t been placed yet. Gianna went underground immediately, and we’re about to tell her brother that she’s dead. I don’t know how long it will take him to learn the truth, but some time is better than none. You still have my thanks. If you need to contact me…” He passes John a slip of paper with a phone number. “I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to help. But don’t hesitate to call.”

He nods. “Thank you.”

“Goodnight, Mr. and Mrs. Wick.”

Cassian steps into his car and he’s gone.

Helen twines her arm through his again. “Point the way, John.”

They start to walk. Rome is gold, gold, gold, even at night. Again he says it, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“I’ll never be able to say it enough. I thought I could never tell you again.”

“But you did, many times. I was listening.”

“You could hear me?”

She pauses. “I’m trying to figure out how to describe it…I couldn’t hear words at first. I could feel what you felt, from the moment I died. That felt…inviolable. I can still feel it now and I know that it will never be broken. Words emerged over time as I started trying to come back. And images. But it isn’t like seeing and it isn’t like hearing…it’s very strange. It takes so much effort to bring them to the surface.”

“You told me to let go. But you didn’t.”

“Neither did you.”

“I tried. But then…” He falters and his footsteps halt. “Helen, I have something to tell you about the…dog you got for me…”

“I know. She appeared to me when she crossed. Probably looking for someone connected with you. That’s when I knew something was wrong and I couldn’t leave you alone. I guess you could say she sent for help.”

For the fourth time that night, John is sobbing into his wife’s chest.

#john wick #john wick fanfic #john x helen #john wick whumpee #hurt/comfort #angst #emotional whump #dacryphilia #men crying #happy tears #assassin whump #major character undeath #back from the dead #ao3 crosspost #down with the high table

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