#if it wasn't him i wouldn't be sane the past few days

[bandzboy]

thank you vernon for literally........ everything 👍

[mvrkieboo]

Old Bloodhounds

P23 | i realised that day that she in fact had two

The ride to the bar was kinda tense. Mark knew it required more than a few sips of alcohol to loosen Yuno up. It must've been a shock to the guy. Yuno honestly thought of Mark as a brother, so Yuno's heart went still when he saw Mark wearing matching cardigans with y/n—his estranged sister that abandoned their father and Yuno himself without a second thought, betraying her family just like how her mother did.

When they got to the bar, a few shots in, only then did Yuno begin to speak again.

“Be honest with me, Mark—did you really see her again just recently? At that pop up coffee spot she ran?” Yuno asked, and downed another shot of vodka to prepare himself hearing the answer.

“Yes, Jae. It hasn't been more than a week since I met her again. I'm sorry if this cardigan made you think I had been dating her behind your back, but I wouldn't do that to you.” Mark sighed, signaling the bartender to refill his glass.

“It wasn't just the matching cardigans, Mark. You arrived at the lobby together, and she was smiling. Even without the matching cardigans, it looked like you just had a date.” Yuno decided to take a break from the drinking, self aware of his own high tolerance with alcohol.

“She was smiling?” Mark stilled, turning his head to look at Yuno for added clarity.

Yuno, sensing how Mark was taken aback with his statement, looked back at him.

“She was. You didn't notice that?”

“I was busy staring at you—your text gave me a fucking heart attack, dude. Besides, what is she smiling for? We literally argued just right before entering the lobby.” Mark scrunched his eyebrows, messing with his hair as he wondered the reason behind your smile.

“Really? Was it an argument or a bicker? Jesus—this probably means you never noticed the crush she had on you back then. Or maybe she still does have a crush on you—maybe that's why she smiled when you weren't looking.” Yuno chuckled bitterly, reminded of a past when his sister was still his sister, and not the spoiled stepdaughter of a wealthy man she was now.

The same spoiled rich kid he was living with.

Mark froze completely, setting his glass down on the counter. It felt like all of his memory of you was getting warped inside his mind, despite the fact of how much he had refused to remind himself of the time when he had been close to you. Not ever since you moved away to Gangnam.

“Oh, shit. You actually never knew that, did you?” Yuno's smile dropped after he saw Mark going blank at the reveal.

Mark looked like he was having a hard time coming to terms with the information, but at one point, he picked up his drink, and downed the whole glass in one go. After he set the glass back down on the counter, Mark shook his head, realising that him agonising over this sudden reveal was pointless anyway.

“Well, it doesn't matter, whether she had a crush on me or not, and if she still does. She already has two men that keep her entertained now, so—I don't find it attractive to be the third.” Mark snorted, placing his elbows on the counter.

Now it was Yuno's turn to go blank. When a sudden beat of silence halted their conversation, with Yuno now deemed speechless, only then did Mark realise his mistake. Sure, you and Yuno were estranged siblings, and haven't spoken to each for 5 years—but that wouldn't completely erase the fact that you were still siblings bound by blood, so what sane older brother would be nonchalant at the fact that their younger sister is being entertained by two men at once? Especially when Yuno didn't even know who those men were.

“What?”

Mark winced at his friend's absolute dumbfounded tone. He should've put a tighter lid on that info. Mark dropped his head and hung it low, quietly cursing himself at his carelessness.

“Mark, you can't just say that and suddenly go quiet now!” Yuno hissed, smacking on the younger man's shoulder.

“I didn't mean to say that! Look, me and Y/N were working on our bureau task together the other day and finished it by the evening. Y/N asked me to keep her company while she waited for her ride, and I only agreed because it was getting dark.” Mark explained carefully, and Yuno was all ears.

“A Ford truck pulled up—and it was these two dudes who looked like they were in their early 30’s. They offered to drop me off as a thank you for accompanying her—it was obvious that these two dudes were really close with her and protective over her too. Y/N had forgotten to bring her access card that day, and one of them gave her their spare access card for her unit.

Me and Y/N share some mutual friends, and apparently, her friends have some suspicions that she might have a sugar daddy…I realised that day that she in fact had two.”

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

It was weird to call them ‘shifts’. They weren't shifts, but in fact tasks—but it sounded shady to refer to them as receiving a job for the night. So that's why you and the crew referred to them as ‘shifts’—because receiving a text that reads ‘hey, we have a job tonight’ made it sound like you were involved with Seoul’s underworld as either a hitman or a drug runner.

However, it didn't mean your ‘shifts’ were any less riskier than actual underworld work—because your ‘shifts’ entailed you interrupting an underworld worker's job. Helping relocating and hiding a victim of Seoul's ruthless loan sharks was playing with fire, and helping the police in tracking down those lowlifes was a sure way to have a bounty placed on your head.

And that's why every time you're out on those nightly shifts, you always focus. You can't afford to get distracted while on the job since the victims depend on your crew to keep them safe. The adrenaline of knowing that those bastards might catch up to you would have you hyper focused and alert.

So when the job was done for the night, you'd crash out, and that was exactly why you were sleeping like a log in the truck's backseat on the way back as Geonwoo drove. They made a quick detour though, ordering some fast food through a drive-thru on the way. It wasn't the healthiest choice for a really late dinner, but it was all they had at the moment.

Woojin was the one that carried you on his back for tonight, only because Geonwoo had been the driver for tonight's shift. When they got to your unit, Geonwoo placed the fast food orders on the counter and took them out while Woojin placed you on the couch and shook you to wake you up.

“Kid, you need to wake up. Have your dinner first.” Woojin spoke in an exhausted tone, and you only woke up because your stomach was beginning to hurt from your gastric condition.

You groggily walked to your kitchen counter and began to unwrap your food.

“What time is it?” You asked flatly, mouth still full of food and some even splattered on your counter as you spoke.

Geonwoo sighed and wiped your mess away with a tissue, “It's barely 1 a.m.”

“We left at 8 though.”

Woojin pinched your cheek when more food pieces splattered on the counter, “Stop talking while eating, dumbass. At least swallow it first.” He sighed shallowly, “Geonwoo stopped for a moment because he was getting leg cramps.”

“I see—”

Suddenly, all three of you heard your door unlocking. When you snapped your heads to see who it was—it turned out it was Yuno coming back from drinking with Mark.

Your older brother froze when he saw you eating with two older men he didn't recognise.

Were these the sugar daddies Mark talked about?

A beat of silence, then—

Geonwoo walked up to Yuno, and Woojin followed suit while you were left at the kitchen counter, your sleep-addled brain processing what was happening.

Geonwoo stretched out his hand with a tight smile on his face, “Nice to meet you, you must be Y/N’s new roommate. I'm Kim Geonwoo and he's Hong Woojin—we live right next to your unit.”

Yuno's reminded of what Mark said—

“You know, when I asked Y/N about them, she said they were her neighbours. That kinda put me off a bit because these guys were really closer to Y/N than I initially thought.”

Yuno shook Geonwoo's hand. Geonwoo's smile widened when he felt Yuno tight's grip.

“I'm not just her roommate—I���m her older brother. Nice to meet you two, my name's Jeong Yuno. The gamjajeon from this morning was delicious.”

Yuno's smile was anything but friendly.

prev | masterlist | next

A/N : yuno thinks he's acting tough but all he's doing is making a fool out of himself like—

also, the normal smau format will be reinstated in the next update y'all, so say goodbye to all these words on your screen 👋🏻

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

• taglist • [CLOSED]

@spiderm444rk @morkiee @xiuriii @solvrse @neozon3nha @herebyaccident0 @injunnie-lemon @mystverse @dearmonamour @v-6893 @sehunniepot @bee-the-loser @nessaassen02 @luluvhs @sunghoonsgfreal @docilismo @neocrashed @soobinbunnie5 @cigarettesafterjae @dudekiss3r @kittydollzz @urlocalbeaner5 @polarisjisung @conwunder @wonupuppy @jae-n0 @413ktz @kimsaerom @meowtella @aerivrs @swanyvess @morkleesgirl @sthwaaberry @leemoonna @grassbutneo @spicyryujin @koizekomi @sunflowerhae @markeroolee

[two-white-butterflies]

parallel lines | d. targaryen | part six

Description: An ordinary middle school teacher moves to a desolate town with her fiancee. After suffering episodes of vivid nightmares, she realizes that his uncle looks exactly like the man in her dreams.

Pairings: daemon targaryen/reader, aemond targaryen/reader

Trope: Reincarnation

series masterlist |

<<previous chapter

"To hold on, to the days when you were mine." - Peter, Taylor Swift.

These past few days, something has deeply changed in Daemon's psyche. He was always a neat freak, preferring to remain polished and clean on the outside while his mind was an overgrowth of plants that clouded his thoughts. He couldn't think straight then - but he kept a facade, pretending that he was sane. He wasn't.

Since seeing you in St. Joseph, he's lost all remnants of himself - the facade broke down and he was thrown into disarray. "Why is your shirt always untucked?" you chuckled, taking a step forward, as if it was second nature to fix his polo and tuck it into his pants.

"I was rushing," he found himself mumbling, confused at your sudden proximity to him. How long has it been since he's felt you? Had his fingers dance against your skin and body? You were always warm, and that was all he remembered about you.

Everything seemed to zone out in the background. He almost forgot that he was in a parking lot, and the sound of cars zoomed past him. All he could see was you, all that he could hear was you. He takes a deep breath, quickly composing himself.

"I'm sorry about what happened yesterday, Rhaenyra herself even admitted that it was wrong. We shouldn't have fought in front of a guest." he apologized, forcing a tight-lipped smile. "If I'm lucky, I won't be a guest for long." you teased, fixing the strap of the handbag on your shoulder. "Mhm." was all he could muster.

The thought of you being married to his nephew made him want to puke. It made him want to kill himself.

He senses the awkwardness, he decides to clear his throat and look at his watch. "I guess this is goodbye. I'm running late for a meeting." he lied, staring at the side. "Of course, nice talking to you." you answered, equally as awkward as his intonation.

"See you tomorrow?" he smiled, walking past you.

"See you tomorrow." you replied, but he was too far to hear.

(ISLAND NEAR THE GHISCARIS)

Your mother descended from a long line of voyagers. Her family remained in Lyss, and life led her to Westeros. The skill of voyaging was long lost. You couldn't command a ship, even if your life depended on it - luckily, you were able to meet a group of female pirates on their way to the liberated islands near the Ghiscari Empire.

It was untouched due the large wall-like fortress that surrounded the shores. "I am surprised by your aptitude, not a lot of people appreciate the oceans well." Serenei, the woman that promised to keep you safe, handed you a cup of tea, the liquid inside of the cup was moving back and forth due to the waves.

"It's much like riding a dragon, though you shouldn't compliment me that much - I emptied my stomach a few hours ago." you giggled, remembering the reddish hue that your face turned into. Oh, your ancestors were turning in their graves. "Don't worry, it'll only be a few more hours until we reach the shores of Pharmaka." she placed a hand on your shoulder.

There was silence between the both of you, in fear of the unknown. You stared at the small round window beside you.

Would Daemon love the ocean too? You remember the War of the Stepstones. A sigh escapes your mouth, the wars have marred him and he wouldn't have loved the smell of salt air as much as you. "It's an island filled with women, not a single man is allowed." Serenei continued with a smile, and for a moment you pondered if she went though the same things that you did.

You shake your head. You wish that she didn't.

"It must be heaven, then?" Alyssandra leaned on the doorframe, trying to keep herself steady due to the treacherous waves that pumped against the ship's bodice.

"It is - utopia is what they call themselves." Serenei continued telling the story, a smile ghosts your face. Your life had turned into a story indeed, finding true love with a Dragon Prince - losing him and being forced to live through the tragedy in Harrenhal, and now you were halfway across the world, riding a ship that is going to a place that calls themself utopia.

(ST. JOSEPH SCHOOL OF DRAGONSTONE)

The steam of your coffee littered your face with kisses, and a groan escapes your mouth. You couldn't believe that you feel asleep through your entire free period. Those dreams weren't stopping, but the scenarios were drastically changing.

At first, they were filled with love - of scenes with you and the 'Dragon Prince' then they changed into nightmares - of ones that you couldn't remember, only waking up in tears - but now, you were in a ship to some unknown island that made you feel hopeful.

Once the story ends, would you be free of those dreams? Would you be free to live your life without those headaches that forced your head open, telling you that there was something that you forgot?

AEMOND NEW SIM How are you? You haven't messaged me in a while :(

YOU sorry i fell asleep hehehahaha 😭

AEMOND NEW SIM Sleeping on duty? tskk

Daemon interrupts you from replying by sitting next to you. There was a pang in your heart, something deep inside your mind telling you to run towards him and offer him a warm embrace. Flashes from your dreams come to you. The small round window, the small of salt breeze and his lavender eyes that felt like a thousand sleepless nights cuddled by the fire.

"Congratulations." Daemon opened his mouth to speak. He stared deep into your eyes, almost peering inside your soul. There wasn't an expression in your face that he hasn't seen a million times. "For what?" you inquired with a slight smile.

"The students proficiency in math has improved since you started teaching them." he informed, and you quickly remember that he attended a meeting earlier today.

A nervous chuckle escapes your mouth.

"They're struggling with the basic stuff, things that they're supposed to know in the first and second grade. I try to go back to those topics before getting back into the complex stuff." you explained, and the smile returns to your face, happy to speak about your passion.

"Whatever you're doing, it seems to be working." he continued to compliment, liking that look in your eyes - the fire. Your body shifts unconsciously, your elbows much closer to his. Your coffee has long gotten rid of its heat, but there was still a million things you had to talk about with him.

"By the way, I thought that you were familiar even before I got to know you - then Harwin and the family talked about that trip to Italy that we both had at the same day. I know it sound a little weird, but I'm pretty sure that the picture you posted on your instagram was taken by me." you opened up the conversation, and he freezes like a deer caught in headlights.

August 23. He remembered vividly, right after you took that picture of him, he promptly collapsed on the curb and was brought to a hospital. That was also the day that he finished remembering his past life. His memories were revived by you?

"A funny coincidence," he managed to choke out.

The Gods were playing a cruel joke.

He stares at your face, seeing your squinting eyes - waiting for his reply. He decides that this might be the right time to talk about Tirano. "When you left, I actually collapsed." he chuckled, playing with the ring on his finger.

"What? Why?" your eyebrows merged into each other.

"I don't know if I'm the only one but - when I was younger I used to dream about weird things, dragons, kings, wars. At first, my parents thought that it was just the result of an overactive mind but the dreams persisted until I turned into an adult - actually I think I was in my late thirties or early fourties when they stopped. It stopped after that trip to Tirano." he monologued, now evading your gaze.

If you weren't able to make the connection, then he would've revealed himself for nothing. "I dream about those things too. Strange." you whispered, your voice suddenly decreasing in volume. "I'm not the only one then," he looked to the side.

"But you said that they stopped? How did they stop?" you asked, wanting to rid yourself of those nightmares. He smiled, remembering seeing your face before everything faded to black.

"I dreamed about myself dying, and after waking up in a hospital bed feeling like I slept a million years, I never dreamt about it again." he confirmed and your heart sinks to your chest. "Holy shit, this sounds so fanatically cultish." you cursed. "- you're telling me that I need to die in the dream to stop dreaming about it again?" you repeated.

He replies with a shrug.

"Well that's going to take a long time. I'm in like, Act Three of the whole novel." you decided to keep the conversation light, although the topic was serious and you weren't sure if you were there to believe him. "How many acts are there?" he raised an eyebrow. "How many acts are in Madame Butterfly?" you quizzed.

"Three...so you're near the end." he smiled. "I'm not sure, for all we know it might just be the end of the beginning." you answered.

He stands up, hearing the bells ring.

"Whatever it is, I'm sure that you'll find a cure of your own." he bid his goodbyes and disappeared from the teacher's lounge.

AEMOND NEW SIM Can you pls catch a ride with someone u work with? I'm a little busy here in mom's house She's moving a few things Yknow her trip to Turkey

YOU Okay, what time will u be home?

AEMOND NEW SIM Probably before dinner If I'm out past six have dinner before me

YOU Alright, take care

next part >>

[kiryoutann]

Before reading, please check series masterlist to read the warning(s), disclaimer, and to make sure you’re on the right chapter. Minors do NOT interact.

If you enjoy this, you can buy me a Ko-fi :) Likes, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated!

TW: PAST SUICIDAL IDEATION, attempts of physical abuse (throwing objects), basically reader's mother being a really horrible narcissistic abusive person.

[Please read while listening to this.]

Listen to that. The opening strains of that old Elvis classic began to swell; a hush fell over the assembled guests. All eyes were drawn to the dance floor where Sabrina now stood, radiant in her lovely gown, and Andrew looked at her with such veneration, as if she had hung the very moon in the sky. In the arms of her now-husband for their first dance as a married couple, the newlyweds shone brighter than the stars outside the manor.

Sabrina’s cheeks flushed rosier than any wine—joy, adoration, and yes, a little champagne too—had left her glowing in a way you’d never seen before this man came into her life, and your heart swelled with happiness for her.

When at last the song ended and they shared a lingering kiss, you joined the room in applause. Someone handed them a mic, and the two tried to pass the mic to each other until Sabrina was the first to give a speech. Andrew squeezed her hand, gave her an encouraging smile, and nodded.

Clearing her throat, Sabrina spoke into the mic. “Hi, everyone,” she began, voice ringing out sweet and clear through the speakers. “I just want to say thank you all for being here on this special day. Sharing it with my family and friends who mean so much to me has made it truly magical.” Another applause returned her gratitude before receding again when she was about to continue.

With misty eyes, Sabrina then turned to her step-father. “I want to thank Jim, for raising me as your own since I was little. You’ve always been the best dad a girl could ask for.”

Then, you watched her smile at her mother. “And Mom, where do I even begin? You've been my rock since day one. From keeping me sane while wedding planning to celebrating with me every step, you know I wouldn't be here without you. I wouldn't be the strong, independent woman I am today without you and Jim. I love you both so much.”

When Sabrina's parents—Jim and Joyce—approached her and gave the couple a big hug, another round of applause arose from the guests. But as Joyce placed a final kiss on Sabrina's cheek before stepping back, the world seemed to dim around you.

Suddenly, everything is so foreign—the image in front of you was never presented to you. Aunt Joyce looks genuinely happy for her daughter, and Sabrina hugs her like she cannot imagine life without her mother—which, at some point in your life, you did believe too. Mother’s words, “You won’t survive without me,” ring like angry bees.

Yet now, the thought of sharing a roof with her again feels unbearable.

Joyce and Sabrina look... uncomplicated, despite your mother's statements about how your aunt wasn't prepared for motherhood. And suddenly, everything feels numb, and you're disconnected.

In your reverie, you missed some of the speeches, only blinking back to reality when Sabrina and Andrew’s enthusiastic cheers echoed through the room. The crowd roared as the romantic notes of the new music played, “Until I Found You” inviting guests to join in the dancing.

As you do at the few parties you’ve been invited to in your entire life, you stay away from the dance floor and become a loyal wallflower. However, this time, with a companion—a better people-watcher than you, Simon. The man sweeps his brown irises around, examining people before one makes him chuckle under his mask.

“Look at that old man, still got it in ‘im, eh?” He commented, his tone tinged with amusement.

Your gaze trails Simon's. Among the dancing couples were your other uncle and aunt, their smiles highlighting the lines on their seventy-something faces, clearly having more life in them than many of the younger ones. You chuckled to yourself.

“Actually, that’s Uncle Mick and Aunt Sarah,” you reply, watching the old couple share a laugh amidst the music. “They’ve been married longer than I’ve been alive. Slow dancing is kind of their forte.”

More people-watching, but you fail to notice how often Simon steals glances at you between his own. And by the luminosity of your eyes, he is drawn like an insect in a blazing fire. His slow, "near-dying" heart has yet to realize the change in him. Simon plays on the edges of the rotting wood.

Straightening his gaze, he strikes up a question: “If that old bugger can still cut a rug, why ain’t the famous ballerina ‘avin’ a spin, eh?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at Simon’s gruff invitation, the sound bubbling up from deep in your chest with a foreign carefree ring that you didn’t recognize. Meeting his eyes, you saw amusement there but also something that told you he was serious. Heart tiptoeing at the edges of your ribs, your fingers busying themselves with their own bustle.

Biting your lip, you gazed up at him through your lashes, feeling a smile curling the corners of your mouth. "I don't know," you shrugged your shoulders. “I might suck at slow dancing.”

Simon scoffed. “Absolute bollocks.”

At his disapproval, your smile widened, teeth peeking out from behind those pretty lips. You gazed up at him, searching for something intently.

Somehow in that moment, the noisy celebration around you seemed to fade into a blur, narrowing your world until it was just Simon standing before you. Your chest warmed, as if caressed by the sun on a lush spring day. Capillaries rushed, painting your bones pink. Pink.

Gathering your courage, you mimicked Simon's invitation. “Unless... you're willing to be the judge of that yourself?”

The question came out just above a whisper, heavy with promise. With your heart dangling at the tip of your throat, anticipation mixed with anxiety gnawed at you faster than any termite. Simon gave a subtle nod towards the dance floor with his chin.

“Come on then,” he rumbled.

As Simon led you, you couldn’t help but feel like Cinderella herself; this room made a fairytale for you. He wrapped his strong arms around your waist, pulling you close so your bodies swayed as one. You shyly wrapped your free hands around his neck.

The romantic music continues to flow, caressing your ears with the singer's warm voice, Stephen Sanchez, if your memory serves you right. The merciless thumping in your ribcage persists, and you wonder if Simon feels it, if he has his own version resonating in the hollow of his chest. Settling into a slow sway, you feel his shoulders relax.

“You’re not gonna turn into a swan on me now, are ya? Would be a right shame to ruin such a lovely dance.” Simon asked, tone lighthearted. After mentioning your upcoming ballet performance, he doesn’t slow down his series of jokes about it.

You threw your head back in laughter. “You know that’s not how the story goes.”

Simon's grin grew wide beneath his mask. Cocking a brow, he said, “Oh yeah? Enlighten me then, love.” He challenged.

Taking a deep breath that lifted the smile still on your face, you began the long story of Swan Lake—about what happened to Odette and her flock by the sparkling lake and mostly things you had memorized many times. "So when Siegfried finally learns the truth, it’s too late—Odette ends her life by jumping from a cliff.”

“Fuckin’ ‘ell,” he reacts, and you let out a girlish laugh. “That’s tragic.”

You shrug. “I always thought it was kind of romantic.” You giggle again—God, the way this man can make you giggle like a silly schoolgirl—when you see the reaction reflected in his eyes.

“You’re a right bloody psycho, you know that?”

You deadpanned. “I’m not a psycho.” Your tone was flat, trying to be serious but the stubborn grin that followed ruined it.

“She should’ve just gone for another bloke.”

You rolled your eyes. “No, she can’t. She’s been cursed to be a swan forever.”

“Then she should’ve just lived out ‘er days as a swan then,” he said with pragmatism, very much lacking the charm of a fairy tale with all those logics. “Should’ve chased that arse’ole prince all over kingdom for revenge instead. Give ‘im a good peckin’.”

You exhaled in exasperation, but your lips held back a smile. “Please just stop talking.”

Simon chuckled, and fortunately, for his own good, he did. The music was nearing its end, but you were still swaying. Something caught his gaze over your shoulder. He looked back at you, raising a brow to make a suggestion.

“Should we do a spin?” he asked.

“What?”

He nods his chin behind you, and you follow suit—a young couple laughing as they twirl. “Should we give it a go?”

It's somewhat whimsical, somewhat absurd, that not only is this hulking man dancing with you, but he also wished to twirl you like you were partners in some grand ballroom. Yet, as you stare into his smiling eyes, you swear there’s a hint of excitement in them. And what good is a ballerina without a performative twirl?

“Okay,” you accepted his offer.

You placed your hand in his, feeling the rough calluses of his fingers but somehow right against your skin. At your subtle cue, Simon raised your joined palms, spinning you outward in elegance and then back into the solid wall of his chest.

“One more time.” You said, and he did as you asked.

You cup his mask-hidden jaw, feeling for each woven polypropylene against your fingers. The plum of your smiling lips swells with desire, and without thinking, you press your lips to his cheek. Your heart skips a beat, gripped by a jolt of trepidation, fear, and regret that perhaps you have crossed a line, that you might drive him away.

But Simon doesn't.

Instead, he seized your waist and drew you close, eliminating any distance between you. The air was snatched from your lungs in a stolen gasp with the force of his possessive move. Like a lover accompanied by passion as he reaps longing.

(I swell with hope, in the sweet desire of a girl seeking love.)

“I’m dyin’ for a smoke.” He confessed.

You glanced around at the lively party still swirling around you. Turning back to him, you suggested, “Should we slip out the back then?”

“Sure.”

Smiling up at him, you gave his hand a gentle squeeze before untangling them from your waist. “You go on ahead—I just need to swap to flats real quick.” You gestured to the high heels that had been enveloping your throbbing toes for hours.

As Simon nodded and turned to go, you hurried off the floor, limping just slightly. The celebratory noise faded as you stepped to the left side of the manor, where the hallway to your room stretched in silence. You turned the doorknob, and the old wood swung with a low creak.

Walking to your suitcase, you flipped it open, took out your Mary Janes, and replaced your high heels with them with a sigh of relief.

Just as you moved to stand, you heard footsteps approaching, then a shadow fell across the open door. Too small to be Simon. Looking up with a start, your heart nearly dropped when you found your mother standing there, arms crossed in a frown full of distaste.

“I've been watching you all night with that… man. You're getting far too comfortable, are you?”

That tone—that same tone that you had heard countless times growing up, signaling the beginnings of an argument. Your shoulders tensed. The pulse inside you quickened as your defenses began to rise, readying themselves in anticipation of the barrage of barbed words that might come next.

The oceans dividing San Francisco and London were supposed to end whatever connection existed between you both—to pretend that it didn’t exist. It should have been a clean finale, allowing you to simply live as a normal girl with normal reactions to everything, as if nothing bad had ever happened to you.

Yet, look, your traitor body is gearing up for battle just the same. Your mind may lie, you may lie, but the wound bearer presents the results of years of being forged beneath her. 5,351 miles stretched, but you are still the same sixteen-year-old girl who bit her tongue, holding her words like a criminal about to be executed on the spot.

What a mother-daughter relationship you have.

You watch warily as Mother begins circling the room, her high heels clicking ominously, slightly showing the red soles beneath them. Louboutins, you remember. You also remember all too well how much those had cost—the very shoes you had “helped” fund years ago when you foolishly still let her access your bank account, even after you turned nineteen.

“Do you know why he’s here?” Mother tries the first question, testing the waters.

Like a frightened little girl—that same little girl from that sunny day so many years ago—you deflect the real question, “Because I invited him.”

Mother, unimpressed, casts you a sharp look, as if daring you to dare her. “You know what I mean. Do you know why he’s here?”

You bit your lip, grasping at straws. “He’s… my boyfriend.”

Mother scoffed mockingly. She turned to you, face contorted in amusement as if you had just told the funniest joke. “Boyfriend? Please. Is that what you think?”

You flinched back as Mother suddenly whirled to face you, her sculpted features twisting into a reflection of pure, unbridled rage. The similar pair of eyes glared at you wide. She buried her nails deep into your epidermis, and you gasped from the sting.

“The only reason a man would want you is between your legs. You think you found love, but really he's with you only because you're easy. You’re just a cheap fuck to him, (Y/N).”

The hot, stinging droplets gathered and spilled over without your permission. You hated yourself for fueling her twisted satisfaction. Hating that she still knew exactly where to aim her barbs to find their mark after all these years.

But nothing compares to the fact that she is your mother. She is your mother, and yet, how could those words come out of her mouth so easily? As if her criticisms had festered within her mind and she was finally allowing them to escape. There's a small, broken part of you that can't help but wonder—and why do you even wonder? You know yourself better than she does, surely.

Or do you?

Or is it true that there really is nothing to take beyond your body like the unloveable, worthless child she always says you are?

You felt a spark of anger flare. “How could you say that to me?” you choked out, baring your wounded heart. Wrong move—you know this, proved many times that showing emotion had never gotten anywhere with Mother before.

But the younger, wounded teenager in you would always crave some kind of validation, some sign she truly cared. Perhaps hidden beneath the person she's become, she still holds a flicker of the warmth she once felt for you. You’re her daughter, and she’s your mother—shouldn’t that be enough for her to finally treat you like one?

“I’m only telling you the truth so you won’t be naive. Do you think he’ll love you when there are so many girls out there who are much prettier than you?”

At times, the wiser you knew not to take Mother’s words to heart—your survival instincts, born of too many experiences, told you not to let her poison seep into your skin. But more often than not, you didn’t know better. Right now, you don’t know better.

(Prying my mouth open, she dripped her bitter blood until we were indistinguishable.)

Clenching your fist, you say through gritted teeth, “You don’t know him.”

Mother’s features bent in hate at your rebellion. The young daughter no more, grown into someone who dared to talk back rather than just gulping down her every word raw.

“And you do?” she spat. “How long have you known this man? Don’t be stupid.”

“It’s none of your business,” you retorted, but not convinced enough for her to see the gap in your expression.

“Not my business? Of course it’s my business – I’m your mother!”

Summoning the last of your courage, you mumbled, “You’re not… my mother.”

Her neat eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What did you just say to me?”

It was a second chance, one she rarely gave. For a moment, you considered taking it back—rewording your reply to something less confrontational, something safer. But you were sick of it—years of carrying her wounds you hadn’t even caused, weighing your body down and sinking them deeper into pitless hell. Of always looking past her anger and ego, finding justifications and reasons to tolerate her. Of being under her control when the young girl inside you needed her anger represented.

And you repeated it without rewording: “You’re not my mother. Not anymore.”

As it left your lips, you saw a flicker of change in Mother’s expression—was that hurt in her eyes? So foreign was her expression that you almost doubted yourself. Regret seized you along with the guilt and self-loathing that gripped your heart.

Then, the hurt blinked away as if it was never there. “Look at you,” she hissed, “throwing away your mother, the woman who birthed and raised you with great difficulty, all for some worthless man. I'm not even surprised if you end up pregnant in a few months, or maybe you already are. Don't say I didn't warn you when he leaves you with a bastard child.”

And they were right when they said that anger is the most effective key.

Moments ago, you can still find the shadow of that sixteen-year-old girl remains within, with pieces of her innocence—a bit of a child’s grin. Her body is still in fear, yet her eyes are always yearning for praise from her mother’s voice.

However, as the grown woman you are ignites in a seething cauldron of fury—disagreement with Mother’s treatment—the little girl begins to fade, reduced to ashes amidst the fire. The “why” question echoes loudly with demands. I'm your baby—you made me; why do you hurt me?

“Why? Why are you so sure only bad things will happen? Why can’t you believe I can find happiness?” Warm tears welled up, tasting salty on your lips as you asked.

Mother raised a warning finger. “Don’t use that tone with me.”

But you’ve passed the point of backing down. “Why? Why are you so convinced I’ll always be unhappy? WHY?!”

(As if it had been written long before my creation.)

Taking a sharp, short breath, you feel self-control slipping away. Your lungs hitched with condemnation, constricting you, trying to escape the hell Mother handmade just for you. You’re crossing the line; something scolds (the same voice your mother planted early on) inside your head, but you refuse to give in.

The dim red light between the cracks in your skull grows brighter, and the next thing you say are the words you've been holding back for so long:

“I’m not you! And what happened with Dad was not my fault!”

And finally, silence fills the small space between you, followed by the faint echo of your voice. As the last syllable faded, the words that had been spoken left you feeling conflicted. That little girl would consider this disobedience—the result of the doctrine your mother spat at her every day—but all you know now is the strange lightness in your heart, as if shedding a massive burden that you didn’t realize you had been carrying your whole life.

Mother took a sharp, hissing breath, and you saw the subtle quiver in her clenched jaw. “You're out of line,” she said.

“I'm out of line?! You were the first one to cross that line, over and over, hurting me for years, but now that I finally do it to you, now I'm the one who's out of line?!” The words tumbled out of your mouth in a rush, all the pain and anger that you had piled up erupting to the surface. “You've always hurt me, said awful things, made me feel like nothing! But the second I did it to you, suddenly I'm the bad one? That's not fair!"

In the blink of an eye, she extends her perfectly manicured hand to grasp the first object within her reach—a heavy crystal paperweight on the table. Your eyes are glued to it, feet ready to flee when she hurls it at you.

“You fucking ungrateful bitch!” she screamed.

Some distant, rational part of you knows you should dodge. But a darker impulse held you frozen, as if welcoming the blunt object to damage your epidermis and even more so to become evidence of her abuse. And perhaps, once the crimson drips from your split temple, it will be enough to reveal the true identity she has been hiding—to destroy the loving mother image she has carefully built for years.

You will make a spectacle of the wound, perhaps even exaggerating it a bit like Mother always did.

It came so close when it landed on the floor next to you. You let out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Mother’s face flushed like the devil as she shouted, “I should never have given birth to you!”

Strange, that relief is what washes over you when her words land in your ears. Because for the first time, the two of you agreed on something – she wished you had never been born, just as you had so often wished the same.

Those “precious” teenage years were filled with alternating fantasies—some days hoping she might die, others wishing it was you instead. But you were never able to go through with killing her, or yourself. Because being without Mother meant being utterly lost and alone, and you were too cowardly to cut your wrist open. More days though, you regretted it—how it might have all ended sooner if only you had been braver.

You wonder who's to blame to just make sense of it—perhaps Mother's mother had been cruel, and she thought she had broken the cycle. Perhaps Joyce, for always being the golden child despite everything. Perhaps Dad. Perhaps you.

All those long, drawn-out years, you stayed, you suffered for her. Because the little girl in the bright pink shoes—the color that matched Mother's favorite dress before she threw it away—loved her mother so much. Always making excuses for her. Maybe she didn't know how to love me, or I didn't understand her way of loving me. Maybe somewhere in her anger were kisses in her own language.

You stood frozen as hollowness spread through your chest, as if the eruption had cleansed you until nothing but an empty clarity remained. Even when Simon entered the room, you didn't notice his presence until he spoke.

“Fuck’s all this?” His question didn’t really wait for an answer as he rushed to your side.

Mother smoothed her hair imperiously, then said: “We were just having a talk.”

Simon’s brown eyes scan the scene: the shattered paperweight, Mother’s suspicious fist. He then turns to examine you carefully, searching for any injuries and only letting out a slight sigh when he finds none.

“Go wait in the car. I’ll sort our things.” Simon orders, and without argument, you nod, walking out of the bedroom.

The room felt heavier with tension after you departed, leaving Simon alone with your seething mother. He moved with purpose, in a quick and efficient mind, as he gathered your things—a toothbrush and hairbrush from the bathroom, dresses from the closet, pulling out drawers for any other items. After throwing them into your suitcase, he tidied up his own things with even more haste and less care.

As he picked up his abandoned tie, Mother cleared her throat. “You don’t need to do this, you know. I know my daughter better than anyone, and she’s not what you really need.”

For a moment, Simon paused, jaw working as he reined his temper. Mother thought she had his attention—finally getting him to listen to her. But soon enough, he resumed his task as if she hadn’t spoken at all.

Undeterred, she pressed on. “There are prettier, worthier girls than her. Ones who won’t cause you so much trouble.”

Simon’s hands stilled at that, Mother thought she had succeeded in making him consider. Slowly, he turned to face the older woman. But what she read in his eyes was not a realization or even a spark of curiosity. No, it was a look that suggested he knew a lot about people like her, had seen a lot despite him being a decade her junior.

“That what you tell ‘er then?” He began, hate raining down like hail in his voice. “That she ain’t good enough, or pretty enough? That she’s nothin’ but trouble?”

The woman met his gaze, and Simon noticed how her eyes were shaped like yours, except colder, full of twisted conviction whenever she talked about you. “I only speak the truth, for her own good. Someone has to keep that headstrong girl in line before she comes to ruin.”

At that, he let out an impolite scoff, but Simon gave zero fucks. “Yeah? Cause all I see is you tryin’ to keep ‘er under yer thumb.”

Simon watched as the woman's face contorted into an ugly frown of dislike; her mask had been abandoned somewhere. He wondered how you survived all those years at home, how you could still say you “love her to bits” on your first meeting.

But he supposes that’s how children are. Misplaced unconditional love for their lifegivers. Sometimes, his critical mind thinks it’s a shame for the Man in the Sky to give little humans to people who don’t deserve them—to abusers, addicts, snakes like this one right here. But then again, Simon had no right to complain when he stopped believing in any of all that years ago—after he lost everyone that mattered.

"I'm her mother." She repeated.

“And she’s yer daughter. Not yer pet or yer little dog to order about.”

As Simon returned to tending to the bags, the woman took a slow, deep breath. "I know men like you," she replied. “You think you're protecting her—you think you're saving her, but all you want is a girl to use and toss aside once you've grown bored.”

Simon’s tedious task came to a halt, the zipper of the bag half-open. He furrowed his blond brows, brown eyes focused on nothing. Before long, he gathered the bags and shouldered them, his free hand dragging the suitcase as he walked through the gaping door. That woman spoke again, but he turned a deaf ear to her venomous spit.

@strawberrygato @aprosiacperson @chipsbuttercream @arrozyfrijoles23 @pastel-devil-06 @rroseskull

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[lesbewriting]

should have listened

[ Rafe Cameron x GN!Reader ] [664 words]

SUMMARY: You were warned about Rafe, yet you didn't listen, and now you're left with consequences of involving yourself with him, heartbreak.

WARNINGS: mentions of cheating, rafe, angst, hurt no comfort

A-N: I wasn't entirely sure who I was gonna change this fic to, but in the end i decided on Rafe

[masterlist]

You sat comfortably up against your closed door. Legs tugged into your chest, head resting behind you. You felt your eyes prickle with tears at the corners of your eyes as you stared out the window situated above your desk. 

A million thoughts ran through your mind, eyes briefly glancing at the discarded books you left thrown across your floorboards. You couldn't stop the tears any longer as they found themselves flowing down your cheeks. Violent sobs ripping through your throat as you sat there.

You should've listened to everyone when they told you not to entwine your life with Rafe’s. You shouldn't have engaged in a relationship with him. He was a bad idea, and you were incredibly blind to his red flags. He was—He was a - no, he is a criminal. But most of all, you knew he was just going to use you and that your relationship with each other was destined to crumble. 

But you were so gullible and blinded by his lies and false love that you didn't even think. You didn't even question if he had any ulterior motives at first because if you even did, you wouldn't be in this position right now. 

"I'm so stupid!" You muttered to yourself under your breath, hiding your teary eyes with the palms of your hands. "He's a walking red flag. Any sane person could see that." 

Pulling yourself to your feet, you shakily managed to walk towards your desk. A pretty silver chain sat atop the desk's surface as you approached. The very object in which Rafe had gifted you for your first anniversary together as a couple. You can still remember the exact words he'd told you as he'd given it.

'My heart will always beat for you, and only you.' 

Which was absolute bullshit if you were being honest. He'd even told you when you broke up a few days that everything he said was just that, false. He didn’t mean any of it, of course. He didn't. 

You should have figured it out sooner when you found him tangled between the sheets of his bed with some kook girl a few days ago. When he decided to throw away everything that he'd built with you for a few stupid minutes of pleasure. 

He never actually loved you, and you knew that now. You still wish you had heeded the warnings from your friends, the pogues - hell, everyone always told you. You were angry at yourself for falling for him, but mostly, you were angry at Rafe for taking advantage of you. You wanted him to pay for everything he'd done.

You grabbed the chain, carefully examining it closely, as you spun yourself to face the wall to the right of you. You took in a deep breath, and eventually, you threw the chain. It smacked into the beforehand, sliding to the ground with a thud. 

The impact was somehow enough to break it. It must not have been that expensive than you thought. You wiped the stray tears from your cheeks now, with the sleeve of your shirt. 

Had you known this was where you would be today, you would have never engaged with him that day at the boneyard. You would have not stumbled drunkily into Rafe. You wouldn't be heartbroken over someone who managed to stomp all over your heart. Disregarding your feelings and love for him and using them for his own gain. 

Maybe you were the fool, for really believing that somebody like Rafe could even learn to love somebody like you. Or maybe it was Rafe's fault for picking you out of everyone on that damned island as his next victim, his next conquest.

Either way, what is done is done. You can't take back the past, no matter how much you want to stop yourself from falling.

All you have and are left with now is a newfound hatred for Rafe, anger, and a whole load of heartbreak. 

[jacevelaryonswife]

I’m hunting you down tonight

You began to imagine him panting beneath your body, strong hands on your hips as you rode him fiercely. In some daydreams, his image was bloodied after you brutally hit him in the face with a axe.

∴pairing: Ettore x Fem!reader

∴warning and a note: mature content, mentions of murder, porn, smut, carnal activies, indecency and all the synonyms. By the way, I know Ettore is a piece of shit, but is Ewan Mitchell so… boom, fuck that. English isn’t my first language.

The option of being sent into space was not at all attractive. It was an experimental mission, it didn't take a genius in aerospace engineering or any shit like that to figure that out, after all, why would they choose someone like you for a glorious purpose? The account didn’t close. There was no light at the end of the tunnel, just a dense black hole swallowing your hopes of a minimally decent life every day spent on that ship, although you knew that not a single hair of yours deserved peace or happiness after what you did, especially for never to have regretted the harm you caused. It was innate to your nature. Still, you quickly agreed and submitted to the experiment — or were transferred to another prison — when the proposal arrived. Anything to get out of that disgusting hole where your confinement resided. However, the last few days have been too suffocating with the prospect of the future. There wasn't one on earth and there wouldn't be one on another planet, even if at times your optimism lit with a minimum portion of faith. Only to be trampled by the terrifying reality.

That was worse, everything on that ship was worse. Your thoughts turned violent, yearning for an axe to kill every motherfucker who shared the same air as yours, the memory of the blood in your body too vivid to dissipate. Until one day the air was absent from your lungs and a violent crisis took over your body, leading you to unbridled tears. You hated such vulnerability and fear, maybe even a little regret for your past actions, which was almost pathetic to think about, but if there was anything to be gleaned from it, it was the fact that none of your peers saw the situation, which you were mortally grateful. Maybe the extreme condition finally started to get to you, or maybe you were going crazy. Maybe both, but in a moment of awareness you recognized two options: succumb to madness and be soon murdered by some member of the mission, or fight to stay sane.

You've seen fit to walk the threshold between the two.

Over the next few days you developed a hyper focus on trivial activities to try to fend off some of the inner turmoil. The first victim was the floor, which you spent hours compulsively cleaning — and taking out a good deal of your fury. The final feeling was relaxing, although your arms ached from the aggressive scrubbing of the floor. It worked for a good few days, but the euphoria started to rebuild and you suddenly felt more stressed than ever. That night you almost punched your mate, however it seemed less detrimental to your stay to choose to leave the room and wander the aisle to take your anger out elsewhere. That's where you saw him.

Tall, thin, dark blond hair and a few tattoos along his body. You didn't know his name, you hadn't even paid attention to him before, but now he was all you could see. Him and his toned, deliciously exposed arms, his back to you as he masturbated to the disgusting sight of Dr. Dibs. Maybe that was the biggest proof of how reality could affect people, but you didn't care, especially when a low moan was emitted by him, making your pearl vibrate. That was the first time you wanted him, but not the last. For the next few days your focus was entirely on him, or as you recently found out: Ettore.

He had a reputation for not talking much and almost begging for sex from any pussy he saw. He wasn't nice or nice, but then neither were you. Mostly observant, horny and stupidly hot. The heat between your thighs wasn't common, you didn't used to be a sexual person, but then again, the reality lived before is no more, just a black hole about to drive you crazy. You began to imagine him panting beneath your body, strong hands on your hips as you rode him fiercely. In some daydreams, his image was bloodied after you brutally hit him in the face with heavy metal. A truly interesting dichotomy.

But if there's anything to point out, it was almost funny how he hadn't noticed your insistent, scrutinizing gaze. You were like a mouse: fast, good at hiding and could slip through dark places unnoticed. In fact, you were one of the few prisoners who didn't tend to draw attention, which was a plus point in pulling you away from any existing focus on the ship. And as a result, that night, you had reached the limit. It was time to hunt.

You knew he was out most nights to prowl the ship, especially to watch the girls' room like a fucking pervert. He wore only a pair of black shorts to cover his body, walked slowly down the hall until he saw you, his icy blue irises immediately confronted you as you stood sideways against the wall with an almost soft expression and seductive eyes. It wouldn't be that difficult to lure him, you thought, shifting off the wall and strolling back lazily, swaying your hips and turning for one last conscious look. Message given and understood, as he followed you slowly to the small room where the cleaning materials were kept.

Pausing at the entrance, Ettore peered into the room before closing the door, slowly approaching and placing his hands on your waist. Grasping his chin, you brought him closer for a warning:

“If you cum inside me, I'll rip your cock off with my mouth and burn your balls.”

He tried to lean in more, but you stopped him, waiting for the answer.

“I fucking understood.”

“Good.”

You turned against the door and brought him with you, attacking his lips hungrily. He was quick to reciprocate, holding your body impossibly close as he pressed you to the door. There was no romance or shyness, just an insane need for carnal contact burning through your body. He was quick to grope your breasts through your blouse, cupping, kneading and rolling them both in his palm desperately, pulling away from the kiss to remove the fabric and expose your skin to his needy touch. He seemed mesmerized by the naked part of your hot body, rhythmically touching and squeezing every bit possible. It was no different for you as your hands traced every pattern possible on his defined abdomen, leaning down to plant kisses and licks on his deliciously smooth and smooth chest. Immediately he stopped touching your breasts and pulled down his pants to reveal his semi-hard cock, raising your hands above your head and kissing you hard, grinding his cock just above your pelvis. You let go of one of his hands and cupped his jaw, before threading your fingers into the hair at the back of his neck and making him moan softly.

He slipped his tongue into your mouth and cupped your breast again, massaging and pulling between his fingers, reaching down with his other hand to cup your ass. You sighed into the kiss and bit his lower lip, giving him room to pull away and pull down your pants and panties at the same time, fully exposing your body as he knelt in front of you and held your waist, smelling your inner thighs and warm pussy, licking a long swath before sinking fully into your shell like a starving man. A long, high-pitched moan left your throat, tugging at his hair and pushing your back further against the door. The heat of his tongue along with his sharp nose against your clit was pure bliss, and all you did was spur him on by moaning his name like a horny bitch, bringing him to his feet almost immediately after one last sloppy lick all over your pussy and the kisses and bites down your stomach, lashing and sucking on both your breasts. You turned and braced your hands on the wall, spreading your legs and pushing your ass out so he could thrust his warm cock into your wet folds, pushing your ass further so he was fully inside.

“Fuck,” he moaned before he gripped your ass and waist possessively and began to fuck you deliciously. The rhythm he moved in and out of you was deliciously steady, the smallest of thrusts and touches on your body making you tighten around him. “So fucking good,” he smacked your ass, rushing to cup your breast as he brought your back to his chest. Your head fell back against him, closing your eyes to sink fully into the way his cock fucked your soft walls so well and the obscene sounds of wet flesh slamming together filled the room. The hand that was on your chest latched onto your neck and moved up to your jaw, forcing you to look up at him.

“Give me more, Ettore,” you asked.

And just like that, he let go your face and backed you up against the door to smack you like a dog in heat, gripping your hips to thrust harder every second, making it almost impossible not to moan freely as you'd like. Your hips began to move together, chasing the hot delicious length. When your back straightened, providing a more vertical angle, his cock brushed against your sweet spot and had you clenching and shuddering against his cock, moaning in response. He squeezed your ass again, thrusting deeper and more unrestrained before rubbing his palm against your pussy, spreading your wetness and stimulating your clit in time with his movements, buildin your orgasm in such a rush that white light blinded your vision temporarily as the coil burdt, your body vibrating and squeezing his cock as you milked him.

“Fucking hell,” he pulled out of your pussy quickly and began to jerk off close to your ass, coming in with a throaty moan as he spilled his seed onto your skin.

When your breathing normalized, you stifled a satisfied smile, the chill of the door bringing a nice jolt against your breasts. From your position, Ettore grabbed your ass and pulled you close, kissing and smelling your hair and neck, just to ask:

“When will we see again?”

——————

“fucking” reads “fooking” in Ewan Mitchell accent.

@tssf-imagines @arcielee 👀

[prince-liest]

what I love most about your 666 vox is that even though he and alastor make an olympic sport out of bending the boundaries of "safe and sane" sex, he seems to VERY firmly believe in the "consensual" part... him letting go of alastor the SECOND he uses his safe word, holding himself back when alastor can't handle touch during his rut, all that stuff. so what would his reaction be if the events of bus stop happened in the same verse and he learned about what valentino did? I know you mentioned it in another ask before but it's been rotating in my mind for days lol - ✨

Alright, y'all get the long and serious answer for this one! >:) Buckle up, buttercups! And thank you SO much for your kind words! <3

I genuinely think that Vox is a fairly shitty person who does not typically particularly care about the violation of consent. He is so free not just with lying, selling spyware, and enabling enabling Valentino, but also with dominating people's will with his hypnosis in his introduction. I think that, if anything, he gets a power trip out of it and he sees what Valentino does, generally, as an extension of that! They're the Vees! They're powerful, they're winning, they have Pentagram City wrapped around their fingers!

However, in 666, his view of Alastor and the fact that Alastor lets him do things is obsessive and borderline worshipful, in, like, a fucked up sadomasochistic way! 666 is written from Alastor's POV so you get to see a lot of his own emotional progression with regard to how he views Vox, but on Vox's end, he's also seeing Alastor differently. He would not be able to genuinely think that he's fallen in love with Alastor if he wasn't able to get past being worshipfully infatuated with him first. He's still obsessive, but especially after O.T.O Special 6.66, Now Streaming: The Birds and the Bees, Natural Wonders! (aka. the rut fic, I know, my fucking titles—) where Alastor starts offering Vox more genuine vulnerability without the looming threat of his shadow, he sees Alastor as more of an actual person rather than a celebrity figure to fight or fuck or both.

Which means that, before Vox made that transition, he would probably be pissed that Valentino ruined his chances to get up to more shit with Alastor. He is very careful with regards to Alastor's consent in the first two installations of 666 because he's extremely aware of how easily Alastor could withdraw it, and how little Vox could do about that. He's not willing to lose Alastor after the taste he's finally had! He's practically manic about finally getting what he wants!

After he's developed more genuine feelings for Alastor (and Alastor has moved solidly into being one of the relatively few people that Vox registers as not just being an NPC or untouchable raid boss in his life), he would be... absolutely fucking mortified, I think. The empathy would fucking suck! That's why he prefers not to have it for most people!

But the thing is, he also loves Val. He has history with Val. And he knows what Val is like. I think he would be less actually, genuinely, overtly angry at Valentino in this scenario than he would have been if he'd just seen Val as ruining his big break with Alastor. He'd make a show of it, sure, but how the hell can he really blame Valentino when he genuinely wouldn't have given (has never given) half of a shit if it had actually been Angel Dust?

And he also knows what Alastor is like. I think his decision would be forced by the fact that despite what happened, Alastor is alive and Valentino is very much about to not be. In a triage situation, one of those people is by default a higher priority.

Alastor, of course, would never forgive that. He would also never forgive the fact that Vox knows what happened—and knows it in a universe where Alastor had dared allow Vox liberties and slowly, eventually, trusted him not to abuse them.

Like I said! It would absolutely nuke the relationship, and I think Alastor would put a great deal of effort into turning all of V Tower and its inhabitants, likely especially Vox, even moreso than Valentino, into so much rubble and a wet smear on the ground.

[nushy]

i won't be a second choice. pt.2

pairing: rockstar!Eddie x fem!reader

warnings: angst, cursing, mentions of alcohol and drugs, cheating, pregnancy , giving birth, death.

A/N: I really had no idea where to go with this, but... we are here. I've aged up the characters obviously - so they are between 25-27 years old. i'm sorry, okay

pt. 2 of this

...

"You should tell him, you know." Robin was behind the counter at Family video, chewing gum and watching you with sympathy.

"And where will this get us? I can't trust him anymore... the past 6 months I've been thinking about what to do. And I am... nowhere." you took a deep breath. It was hard, you were 8 months pregnant already, living with your mother and with no idea what to do with your life. Everyone of your friend group knew what happened - Robin, Steve, Dustin, and everyone were on your side, yet still you felt so alone. Deep inside you missed Eddie, you wanted to tell him, to fix everything and still... in the rare times you saw him around Hawkins (when he wasn't out of town for his shows), you made sure to hide so he wouldn't see you. Your heart wanted him, but your brain was telling you that this will only cause you pain.

"But he has the right to know... like... he is going to be a father after all. Plus, he is famous, he could help you with some money." Robin smiled, as if this was a joke. You looked her with a shock in your eyes.

"Great idea, Robin... and he'd think that I only want his money and I am lying to him." you rubbed your belly and looked down. "No, we are perfectly fine alone. Maybe what happened, when we broke up, was for the better - it's better if he doesn't know, we will be good on our own." Robin sighed and gave up.

...

All of this felt like ages ago, while you were lying in the hospital bed, pain crushing you, the nurse next to you chanting like a mantra "breathe." and you trying to stay sane.

It was 2 in the morning when you called Steve, as he was the only one with a car, to ask him to get you to the hospital as the baby was coming. Now he was holding your hand, but with a fogged mind you wished it was Eddie next to you, whispering calming words. You had no idea how much time has passed when you heard the doctor say "it's a girl." and a sweet cry in the corner of the room. You were exhausted and maybe some of the painkillers were kicking in, because you turned to Steve and said "we did it, Eddie." He moved a strand of hair from your forehead and just nodded. You didn't remember this or anything after that for that matter. But you were happy.

...

"You're a bit early, Robin." you were saying, as you opened the door. Then you froze, because it wasn't Robin in front of you - it was Eddie. He was looking at the little bundle in your hands, eyes not blinking.

"So it's true." you swallowed loudly - there was no room for lying, from day one it was obvious that she was Eddie's daughter - her big brown eyes and dark curly hair were evident for that.

"Yes." you answered shortly.

"Fuck." he said at first, dragging one hand through his hair. For just a few seconds there was silence. Part of you missed him so much, that you just wanted to hug him and beg him to be together again, to make him promise that this won't happen again, that you'd be one happy family. But your pride... your pride could not let you do this. He spoke again: "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because we are better alone. I was going to tell you the night we broke up. You can blame yourself for not knowing." you told him without any emotion in your voice. It was like a different person speaking now.

"Can I, at least, come inside, so we can talk?" Eddie was desperate. He looked so broken and sad - he knew what he did was wrong and you telling him only solidified it.

"No, Eddie, I want you to go. I don't know who told you about this, and I don't care, just pretend that it didn't happen." you were ready to close the door when he started talking again.

"Please, don't do this to me... you're the only one for me... I will leave everything behind, I don't care about my career, I don't want it if I don't have you, and now... our child." the words made your heart hurt. Was he really willing to leave his dream because of you?

"Eddie... I don't want you to do this for me... It's what you've always wanted, I would hate myself if I let you fuck it up." you felt yourself growing weak, so you added "Like you fucked up our relationship." it pained you to see him like this, so you took a deep breath and spoke again. "Look, I will let you see her, but I don't want you in my life anymore, not as a lover, not as a friend. Just as someone I knew."

"Please..." he said it so quietly, like a whisper.

"You did this yourself, Eddie. We'll stay in touch, now, please, go." and you closed the door. Like in a dream, you went to the baby's bed only to put her down and then you fell to the floor and started crying like you've never cried before. Until you felt your eyes couldn't take it anymore and your heart was dry as a desert.

...

There was only one other time that you cried like that - the day that Steve came to your house, exactly one week after you told Eddie to leave. You remember everything vaguely - Steve at your door, pale as a sheet, you were smiling at first, but when you saw him your smile faded. You inviting him in, he telling you to sit down and him, sitting next to you on the couch. You don't remember his words exactly, only the aftermath - you hysterically crying, not being able to find a place to stand, he trying to hug you, to ease your pain. Only three words ringing in your head - "Eddie, overdose, dead" . You cried for hours in Steve's arms, not speaking, only thinking one thing:

"You did this yourself." but this time the words were not for Eddie, you were telling this to yourself. "You did this yourself."

tagging: @haylaansmi, @poisonedluv, @corrodedcoffincumslut, @tlclick73, @sunnytkm23, @1paire2vans, @tiannamortis, @stylesxmunson, @bibieddiesgf

[toastedjeans]

I'll post this to AO3 some time later, but for now..

Somebody order some Queenie angst?

Ever since a few days, or however long it was in this digital world, it had been taunting her. Appearing and disappearing wherever she went, always too far away to reach, or even to take a proper look at it. The first few times she saw it, she was sure she was just imagining things. But the more frequent the sightings became, the less she believed it to merely be her imagination.

Once again, a bright red exit door appeared right in front of Queenie's eyes. She stood motionless for a few moments, her hand shaking. If she had lungs, she'd be breathing heavily. A quick glance wouldn't hurt, would it? Of course, she wouldn't leave without notice, as much as she longed to escape this nightmarish realm. Not without taking the other performers with her, and especially not without her sweetheart, Kinger. If she could prove that there was a way out, everyone would finally be free again.

As the curiosity got the better of her, she pressed the handle down, ready to peer back into reality once more, even just for a moment.

But she wasn't fast enough. The door practically disintegrated into tiny red particles, floating up into the air before she could see the other side. This must have been the closest anyone had ever gotten to get out of the circus. She'd have to notify as many of the others, tell them to look out for the way out. Then she'd be able to take as many of the trapped performers with her, back to their former lives. Back to the real world.

---

Ever since her close encounter with the presumably only way out, she'd have visions of her past life. During many of Caine's adventures, memories of her life back home flashed before her, sometimes causing her to nearly break down mentally. Kinger would always be close by, holding her, comforting her, keeping her just sane enough to not lose her mind completely.

Queenie was strong-willed. She usually wouldn't be brought down like this that easily. And yet, the memories were relentless, projecting images of her children from the real world into her mind. With every day, the once so strongly woven thread she held onto seemed to fray more and more.

A gentle hand was placed on her shoulder, bringing her back to reality. Well, if you could call life in the digital circus that.

"My love, are you alright?", the soft voice of her husband spoke, "You've been staring at the wall for quite a while now."

Kinger tried not to sound too worried about her, after all, everyone in here went a little crazy from time to time. But Queenie was the most stable of them all, or at least she was good at hiding her struggles. She and him were among the people who were trapped here the longest, that must have affected them on some level at least. Or maybe they'd grow desensitized to their existential dread after so long. Who could tell.

"Kinger, darling...", she whispered, her voice shaking, "If you saw an exit door.. would you go through it?"

Kinger was taken aback by the question, tilting his head like a confused puppy. He then took his wife's hands in his own and knelt in front of her, looking deeply into her big amber eyes.

"I would never leave. Not if it means leaving anyone behind."

The queen's expression shifted to disbelief, one of her eyelids twitched. She shook her head, "You wouldn't? But what about-"

Kinger shushed her by placing a finger on the spot of her face where her mouth would be if she had one. He didn't like interrupting her like this, but he couldn't bare seeing her so distraught over this elusive exit. While he was certain that some sort of way out of this place did exist in some form or another, he had never seen a door randomly spawning into the room. It wasn't that he didn't believe his beloved partner, but to him, such a thing would be merely theoretical until he saw it himself. Or until he'd get confirmation from Caine about it.

"Let's not think about that now, my love. We have one another, and that's what's most important.", her husband spoke in his softest, most calming tone he could manage, gently leaning his forehead against hers.

But Queenie snapped. She pushed Kinger away from her, causing him to fall over to his side.

"So you're saying my children aren't important, then?", she said in an incredulous voice as she stood up. Her hands shook as she repeatedly balled her hands into fists, as if wanting to strangle somebody.

"N-no! This isn't at all how I-"

He reached out towards her, but was only met with her uncharacteristically furious gaze. He had never experienced his wife so angry before.

"They're all alone, Kinger. They need me, they need their mother!", her body started shaking more and more. "You don't understand. If I can't leave this god forsaken place, they'll have nobody taking care of them!"

She leaned down with every word until dropping to her knees, as if her body wouldn't be able to withstand the pressure any longer.

"What if..", she whispered to herself, voice weak. She couldn't bare finishing the thought, tears forming in her eyes as she broke down on the floor, holding her head.

The king slowly crawled towards his queen, reaching out a second time in an attempt to calm her. Even if she was usually the one keeping him in check, she needed his emotional support from time to time as well.

But he was too late.

As Queenie shook harder, her body started shifting and glitching, until she eventually corrupted beyond recognition. Kinger couldn't help but stare in horror, unable to comprehend what he was looking at. Her current body almost reminded him of some strange insect. What was happening to her?

As much as he wished to help, to take away the pain and agony she was going through, he didn't know what he could possibly do. He reached out once more, his hands trembling in terror, and still he held out hope for her.

She lashed out in an almost animalistic fury, launching him into the nearest wall. The abstract body's thousands of multicolored eyes focused on his now heavily glitching body as it ran forward, slamming its limbs into him. It attacked relentlessly, before launching the king into another wall.

"Now what is happening he-", the ringleader himself appeared right in front of the injured chess piece, stopping himself as he spotted the giant, dark mass that was raging through the circus. It now charged directly towards him, attempting to strike his head, or jaw rather, which he barely dodged. He quickly floated next to Kinger, who could only manage to weakly press out his wife's name in a digital stutter, holding a heavily shaking hand out towards the strange monster. A moment of silent realization followed as he turned towards the threat once more. This.. thing was Queenie?

He quickly shook his head, focused yet again. Being an AI, Caine was used to coming across glitches. Yet, the corruption of circus members, his performers, and most importantly, one of his friends, was something he'd never even thought of experiencing.

Luckily, he knew how to deal with bugged code. Caine simply snapped his fingers and crossed his arms over his chest. Kinger, still in a tremendous amount of pain, stopped going in and out of existence, appearing like his former self again.

But the deeply abstracted, giant body still stood in front of them, ready to charge again. Whatever was going on here, it certainly wasn't good.

Caine tried snapping his fingers another time, and another time, to no avail. Queenie had gone so far that even his powers weren't strong enough to fix her. But what was he supposed to do now? He couldn't just lock her away until he had found a solution to turn her back, could he?

Actually, he thought, that wasn't such a bad idea after all. Not exactly the best one he had, but under these circumstances, it would have to do.

Just as she was about to attack the two others once more, the ringmaster took hold of her via a sort of drag-and-drop feature he normally used to move various props around. To ensure everybody's safety, he opened a hole in the ground, which led into the out of bounds region underneath the circus, and lifted his old friend into it.

"I'm sorry, Queenie. But it's for your own good."

With that, the hole closed shut, leaving the corrupted entity behind, nothing but darkness engulfing her.

Caine rushed back to the king, who was still trembling after the horrors he had witnessed.

"My.. my queen..", he whimpered, lifting his head to face his saviour, "Y-you can fix her, r-right, Caine?"

He didn't answer. Couldn't answer. Not even he knew if he could. Instead, he took Kinger's hands in his, and brought him to his room.

---

Several minutes passed, in which the AI had summoned a large amount of pillows into the other's room. So many in fact, that half of it was occupied by them, and a tired, still traumatized chess king right in the middle of them. He had tried buidling a fort out of them, but in his haste he just piled all the pillows on top of each other. It would have to do for now.

"If you, uh, need anything. Just call for me. I'll be there as fast as I can, okay?" Being an artificial intelligence, Caine still had to learn a lot of things regarding emotions, especially the more complex and subtle ones. He never knew what to say or do to comfort people. Some preferred to be left alone, while others liked to have somebody close by to talk to. But in an extreme situation like this one, he was utterly unclear on the proper way to act. He figured since most other performers wanted him to stay away as far as possible after they had a mental breakdown, surely this must be what he had to do now as well.

But a tug on his wrist told him otherwise. He turned, his friend now sitting upright on the soft "walls" of the makeshift fortress. Or, as upright as one possibly could on a surface like this.

"Can you.. stay with me?", Kinger almost whispered, his piercing blue eyes meeting Caine's, "I don't think I can handle being alone right now..."

With a look of slight surprise, the ringleader slowly took the other's hand in his and floated up, placing himself next to the other figure. Big, gloved hands gently grabbed his small body, pulling him closer, imitating an embrace. At least it felt like one. Without arms, it was sometimes difficult to tell what the king's intentions were when he held somebody. Hesitantly, Caine hugged him back, providing his friend with as much comfort as he could give him. Warmth engulfed his entire body, and if he hadn't already experienced this feeling before, he'd assume that his processor was just overheating.

Before long, the two figures lay even closer together in a tight embrace. Their grip tightening, they held onto one other as if they'd drift apart if they'd ever let go. No more words were spoken between them, just the occasional rustle of pillows and blankets, and some quiet sniffles could be heard. Caine and Kinger had been close before, and the mutual grief over the loss of a loved one would only bring them closer.

[manonblaqkbeak]

Scaling in the Moonlight

Hello everyone!!! Long time no see!!! It's been eleven months!!!!! since I last wrote anything. I hated the fact that I missed last years rowaelin month and was determined to write something for this years rowaelin month (and a special thank you to @goddess-aelin for her lovely note saying she missed my work <3)

And thanks to the lovely people that run rowaelin month!!! you are all amazing!!! @rowaelinscourt

Apologies in advance if my writing and grammar and characterisation is a little rusty, like I said, it's been eleven months since I last wrote anything and I'm slowly getting through my ToG re-read (which has really opened my eyes to how traumatised Aelin is as a person/character).

Words: 800+. CW: none, I don't think.

Day 18- Aelin and Rowan's hawk form.

It was two AM and Aelin was out, wondering the dark city streets of Orynth, looking for the right building.

Instead of using the castle's obstacle course like most sane people would, Aelin decided that she needed to do this the way she was trained too—by scaling the side of buildings, using every muscle in her body to pull herself up to reach the top of the building, to run across the rooftops to get closer to her target.

She needed the reminder that she could—and that she hadn't lost her edge.

Although, she was sure she had lost it. She did still train, from magic to weapons to hand-to-hand combat, she did whichever she was in the mood for with what free time she had, but as Queen and mother to five children, she had no need to scale buildings and jump from rooftop to rooftop.

So she had decided, as she ate her dinner with her family, she was going to relive her past life; if only for a couple of hours.

Aelin walked through one more street before she found a good starting point—a shoe store that she did frequent with Rowan and their children. It was two storeys tall and she knew that no one occupied the apartment above the shop so no one would see her.

Hopefully no one would hear her either.

Stretching before climbing, Aelin told herself that it would be fine. She had given birth to five children, all without pain relieving herbs, she could—would—scale this building with ease.

Finding her footing was easy enough, so Aelin started her trek—and thankfully didn't fall off, although she did slid time a few times and had to grit her teeth to stop her cursing from echoing around town.

The burning in her muscles took her back to how she used to be, how she used to be able to demand any contract and fat coin purse she desired.

She didn't miss that life, not at all, but it was part of who she was and she was not ashamed of it.

Taking one last gulping breath, Aelin hoisted herself over the roofs ledge and let the accomplishment rush through her.

So determined she was in proving herself that she could still do this, she hadn't been aware that she had a follower.

A follower that now clicked his beak at her.

Aelin's head snapped upwards, taking in her mate's large hawk-form as he perched on the chimney.

“You were asleep when I left,” was all Aelin could think of to say.

Rowan clicked his beak again, as if to say And now I'm awake.

“Clearly,” Aelin said, “how'd I go from your end?”

She waited for him to shift back but he didn't. He wasn't mad at her, she knew that much, but she didn't want anyone to see her talking to her mate like this—it felt too intimate to be like this in public, but after two decades together, Aelin could converse with Rowan in his hawk form as easily as she could talk to him in his Fae form.

Rowan didn't say anything but flew to the building next to her. He clicked his beak. You can climb well enough, let's see how you can jump.

Aelin moved to the ledge, looking down to the ground, if she didn't make it, she wouldn't die, but she'd probably be bruised all over.

She looked at Rowan, who was waiting patiently. “Will you nurse me back to health if I fall?” she asked, batting her eyelashes at her husband, who rolled his eyes.

“That better be a yes,” she said and moved back to take a running jump.

Gods, if she fell, she'd never get over the embarrassment.

Aelin ran and jumped—and just made it. She hit her chin hard enough that when she made it over the ledge of the building, she laid down and stared at the open night sky.

A flash of light brighter than the moon came and went, and then there was Rowan, taking her in.

“Fireheart,” he said, his voice deep and concerned. “Are you alright?”

“I'm fine,” Aelin said, her chin sore but she would live. She eyed her mate up and down, however, and said, “But I would still appreciate being nursed back to health—especially if you take your shirt off.”

Rowan rolled his eyes again, but obliged her, his shirt coming off in one easy movement that had her contemplate making a sixth baby.

“Where does it hurt, milady?” her king-consort asked, his rough fingers moving across her collarbone.

“Here,” she said, pointing to her chin, and soon she was better, especially as she chased Rowan around in his hawk form, easily jumping from roof to roof as the hours went by.

[kachikirby]

GranEssex Chronicles: Chapter 7 - The Hivemind

As shown by the tags, this chapter has themes readers might find more disturbing than the normal content for this series. Reader discretion is advised.

-

A few months had passed since the incident with the space pirates. Nothing out of the ordinary had happened since then. Outside of that, it was simple days of training and going out on standard assigned missions. Today, Meta heard that he in particular would be doing something different than usual from Kurabe, but he didn't find out what it was until his mentor came to his room. Almost immediately, he regretted it, as his mentor was fussing over his appearance for nearly an hour.

"Please remember to stand up straight, Meta. It'd be rude to slouch. Remember that you're the representative of all my students and you must act like it."

He only pouted in response. In his eyes, this wouldn't help with all the teasing he had to endure from a few of his fellow students.

"Sensei, is this party we're going to really that important? Couldn't just you and Mercury go?" He asked with a sigh.

His mentor gave a slight giggle. "What? Can't I show off my adorable student?"

The youth pouted at that. If there was anything he hated, it was being treated like a child.

"Sensei, I would appreciate it if you treated me like my age... and I'm supposed to be a soldier! Not cute!"

"You can be both."

"But I don't want to! Besides, why aren't you dressed up?"

"Because my armor looks formal enough for important events and deadly enough to wear on the battlefield."

Meta just groaned, not having a good argument for that. "What's even the point of this party anyway? You just told me it's important without explaining why."

"Well, it's being hosted by one of our biggest financial backers, Heimham. He was the financer and the one who built many of our battleships, including the GranEssex, so it's seen as an important courtesy to him. Oh, and Reedy is also coming, so be on your best behavior as well."

Meta just kept grumbling. He didn't necessarily hate Reedy, but he certainly wasn't a fan of him. He could stand being in the same room as him at least. The sane could not be said for the rest of the party goers. Ever since that mission on Artik, Meta had a severe dislike for royalty and the rich. The way they all looked down on others just because of the fact they were rich really got under his skin. They were all the same: cowards with undeserved egos. He then felt a hand be placed on his hand.

"Meta, you don't have to talk to anyone if you don't want to. Just stay with me and Mercury... or even Reedy, I guess, if it makes you feel better, ok?"

"I already planned on it, sensei. I still don't understand why I have to be the student representative."

"Meta, it's unfortunate, but the fact of the matter is that you will have to attend events like this throughout your life. Think of it as training if you must."

He only silently nodded.

"Oh, and I guess I can mention it to you, but Reedy's wife will also be coming with us. So, he should be less of a pain than normal."

Meta didn't outwardly react to this, but he was always curious about Reedy's wife. More specifically, it was what she saw in Reedy in the first place. All he saw was a smug man who was occasionally nice.

"And... there. Now we need to just wait for Mercury to finish."

Meta looked in the mirror to see no difference in his appearance outside of his hat being straighter on his head. Then they both heard knocking on the wall, turning around to see Mercury.

"I've been ready for the past two hours Kurabe." She said, a hint of annoyance in her voice.

The moment Meta saw her, he could feel his cheeks turning hot. She was wearing a beautiful dark blue dress with a black shawl and bright blue hairpiece. It was a much more elegant contrast to her standard uniform, which was best described as being strangely formal and casual at the same time.

Kurabe was the first to speak. "It's been a while since I've seen you wear that, Mercury. It still suites you."

She then gently nudged Meta as if saying "go on, say something.".

He slightly jumped a bit.

"You... you look beautiful... Mercury..." He uttered, feeling his face become even hotter.

Mercury smiled. "Thanks, Meta. Now hopefully Reedy will get off my case about it. He's been hounding me about wearing a dress today for the past week." She said, slightly adjusting her shawl.

However, Kurabe and Meta knew she was happy about wearing this dress. The smile on her face was too genuine. Honestly, the youth could understand it somewhat. She looked extremely beautiful in it and couldn't take his eyes off her.

"Well, now that we're all ready, we should get going then." Kurabe suddenly said after clearing her throat.

"Sensei, should I bring a weapon just in case?" Meta asked.

In truth, he wanted to bring a sword with him. He couldn't really explain it, but he felt more at ease when he held a weapon or at least carried one on him. Kurabe had a thoughtful expression and pulled out a fancy sword from the closet, showing it to him.

"This is a ceremonial blade. It doesn't have an edge to it, but it certainly looks good with you, Meta. It's sheath even matches your outfit."

He took it in his hand, looked at it, and then nodded as he put it on his side. "Thank you, sensei. This makes me feel a lot more comfortable."

"You're welcome, Meta. Just don't threaten any of the guests with it." She said with a smile.

Meta couldn't tell if she was being serious or not.

---------

An hour later the GranEssex party of three arrived at the location of the party. It was being held at Heimham's personal mansion, though from Meta's perspective it looked more like a castle.

"Now presenting, the Lady of Shadows Kurabe and her party." One of the butlers announced as they entered the main ballroom.

Almost immediately, he felt the gazes of many people fall upon him.

"The moment I can, I'm running back to the ship..." The youth thought to himself, already annoyed by the atmosphere and gazes.

"Do it and see what happens, Meta." Kurabe whispered.

He gave a slight flinch, noting the deadly way she uttered that. As much as he wanted to question what would happen, he already knew. His mentor would be absolutely furious. It seemed like his only option would be staying with her and Mercury. Even Reedy would be better if it meant he didn't need to be around these irritating nobles much. If anything, hopefully Kurabe wouldn't try to embarrass him. He looked around the interior of the mansion. It truly was an impressive place, and it was obvious that a lot of love and care was put into building and decorating it. Though he noticed something that quickly angered him. Many of the party goers were glaring at Mercury, eyes filled with disgust.

"...I'll explain it to your later." He heard his mentor whisper. However, he could sense that she had also noticed this and angered by it.

"Sensei?" Just as he asked that, he was suddenly cut off by yet another announcement.

"Introducing the Silver Tactician Reedy and his cohort."

Immediately, the group turned back to see it was Reedy, but locked in his arm was a small, winged woman wearing a fuchsia dress and red bandana that covered her yellow hair.

"That's probably his wife." Meta thought.

He also noticed that Reedy was also receiving glares. While neither Mercury nor Reedy seemed to care, it still annoyed him. It was to the point where he just wanted to pull his mentor to the side and ask her about it. However, there was no time, as the pair had been making their way towards them.

"There you are. I see you look beautiful as ever in that, Mer." Reedy said, pushing his glasses up.

"Reed, are you really going to say that while Raita's here?" She replied with a giggle.

"Oh, you don't need to worry about me, Mercury. Reedy spent the entire trip here complimenting me."

"I'm sure he did. That's just how he is."

The man just shyly averted his eyes.

Meta only continued to silently gaze around. "...do they just not notice all of the glares? Or are they... just ignoring them...?" He thought.

"Oh, I believe you haven't met Meta yet. Allow me to introduce you." He was suddenly broken out of his thoughts by Reedy's voice.

"Raita, this is Kurabe's student, Meta. Meta, this is my wife, Raita."

"It's nice to meet you." He responded shyly.

The woman gave a big smile.

"Aww, you're a lot cuter than I thought you'd be! I know Reedy said you were a Star Warrior, but he never said you were this cute!" She said, shaking his hand.

Meta just internally groaned. Yet another person calling him cute. At least she was polite about it.

"I don't think I've seen any of your kind around..." He then uttered, trying to push the conversation away from him being cute.

"Oh, that's because I'm a fairy!" She replied simply.

"A fairy?" She tilted her head.

"You haven't heard of fairies before? We're a species that populate a planet known as Ripple Star."

Admittedly while Meta has researched different species, he only read about species with combat abilities. If they didn't fight, he just skipped the entry in the research book he had.

"Well, I guess that doesn't matter." She then said before giving a slightly dreamy sigh. "Ah... Ripple Star. It reminds me of when Reedy and I first met."

"Raita, I believe we should take our seats now for the meal. We should be at the same table as Kurabe." Reedy quickly cut her off.

"We can discuss this when we seat ourselves!"

Meta silently nodded, honestly hoping that they would be leaving immediately after eating.

---------

The two groups sat down to each other and awaited the meal. Meta at least was somewhat looking forward to this, but he doubted any of it could beat Kurabe's cooking.

"May we have your attention please, everyone? Mr. Heimham would look to say a few words to you all." One of the butlers said.

A man of average height and stature walked forward and gave a quick look around. His eyes landed on the GranEssex group, and he gave them a warm smile. Curious, Meta read his emotions and none of them were negative.

"Maybe some rich guys are alright…" Meta hesitantly thought to himself.

"First of all, I would like to thank you all for coming on this very special day. Not only is this the celebration of the completion of this mansion, but this is also the celebration of the 70th anniversary of Heimham Corporation. As you know, this company was run by my father, and we have been on the cutting edge of space transport for several years…" He continued to go on and on.

Kurabe and Raita were glued to his speech, while Meta was just bored. He looked Mercury who had a look of worry on her face. This confused the youth, as the woman was her usual cool self the whole time. He then glanced at Reedy who also looked concerned. What was going on? Then, the expression on the woman's face turned slightly fearful as she dabbed part of her face with her napkin. Suddenly, the man looked at her and quickly said something to her in sign language before they stood up and walked to a private corner of the ballroom. Meta wanted to follow, but one glance from Kurabe kept him from moving in his seat.

---------

Once they were a safe distance away from everyone, the two began talking.

"Reedy, what are we going to do? It could be anywhere, for all we know it's already replaced someone else!"

"We're going to have to ask for an emergency administration of the Reedy Exam, Mercury. I think that's the best option to root it out."

The woman gave an uneasy look.

"I don't think that's possible. There's no doubt this whole party will erupt into chaos if we just tell them."

"Maybe, but I'm sure people will be fine with it if we tell them that their lives depend on it... because it does."

Mercury still looked doubtful.

"Reedy, not everyone uses their brains when under pressure. The more likely scenario is that the majority will accuse us!"

"The majority might, but who will the majority listen to?"

"Mr. Heimham."

"Exactly. We talk to him and then he'll announce the news." He then took a look up at the stage where the host was talking. "Speaking of which, he should be done with his speech in a bit. I'll go tell him about it. You should go back and stay with Kurabe."

Mercury still looked unsure.

"Mer, it will be alright. I promise."

"It's not that I don't trust you, Reed, it's just... I'm afraid. Surely, it must sense that we're here as well and it's going to target me because I'm the weaker Limet..."

"Which is precisely why I want you to get back to Kurabe. She's the strongest person here. The hivemind would have to be either incredibly brave, stupid, or desperate to try anything with her around."

The woman stared at him silently before nodding. "Please be careful, Reed."

She then made her way back to the table. Before Meta could ask anything upon her return, Kurabe spoke first.

"It's a hivemind, isn't it?" She questioned in a matter-of-fact way, as if she already knew what was going on.

"Y... yes." Mercury replied with a shiver.

"...hivemind?" Meta asked his mentor.

Kurabe looked conflicted. While she wanted to explain the situation, she didn't want to make Mercury feel any more uncomfortable than she already was.

"It's ok, Kurabe, you can tell him." The woman whispered.

The warrior nodded in response before turning to her student. "Simply put, someone at this party is a hivemind Limet."

Meta's eyes widened in shock.

"There are two types of Limets in this universe. There are normal ones like Mercury and Reedy, who have their own thoughts, feelings, and peacefully co-exist with all races and species. Then there are hivemind Limets, who exist to do nothing but expand their numbers and spread their influence. They're terrifying beings who assimilate and mimic entire living beings without prejudice. Those with higher power levels could even destroy an entire planet."

Meta didn't exactly know how to process this information.

"Wait... without prejudice? So, it'll attack other Limets for no reason?"

That explained why Mercury was so distressed at the moment.

"They especially love to target other Limets since the squishy metal on the outside of their core gives them more material. In other words, more ways to hide themselves."

"That's horrifying."

The youth wasn't easily frightened or disturbed, thanks his harsh upbringing. But this... this was truly something else.

"Wait, is that why everyone kept glaring at Mercury? Because they think she's some kind of monster?"

"That's exactly it. While it has toned down fairly recently, there still exists people who hold a stigma against Limets due to the hiveminds."

"But that's stupid! Mercury isn't a hivemind, so they have nothing to be afraid of!"

"I know, Meta. But remember that fear tends to be more powerful than logical thinking in some situations."

Meta couldn't refute that, but he definitely didn't like it. He then felt Mercury place a hand on his shoulder.

"Thank you for sticking up for me, Meta, but for now we have more important issues to worry about. Reedy should be done talking to Mr. Heimham any minute now."

After a few minutes of waiting, Reedy then returned to the table as Heimham went back up on stage.

"Attention everyone, I have an announcement to make. I don't how to word this in a proper manner, but it must be said. A hivemind has infiltrated the party and before you begin to accuse our Limet guests I have already confirmed they are not working with it." He said with stern eyes, his mood completely different from before.

The gathered crowd began to chatter incomprehensibly. While Meta couldn't exactly pick up all the conversations, he did note that there was a great increase of animosity within the room, more than likely directed at Mercury and Reedy.

"Now, before we go any further, I'd like for everyone to take an emergency Reedy Exam. This is a simple test with a fail rate of 0.01% that will be able to determine who the hivemind is. Unless you would like to be so brave and show yourself immediately."

"Why should we do something made by a Limet?" One of the guests asked.

Before any of the GranEssex crew could object, someone did it for them.

"I dunno about you all, but I'd rather not risk my life because of a bunch of whiny idiots. Sign me up for the test!" Yelled out a blue penguin wearing a green robe.

"...sensei, you wouldn't happen to know who that is, would you?"

But before she could respond, the penguin stomped up to the stage, followed by a ball creature with no mouth and a dark navy bandana, and took the microphone from Heimham.

"Look, if you guys are so desperate to die, go and be my guest! But if you ask me, I wanna live to see tomorrow! And if you want to see tomorrow, you better take it, too!"

There was a moment of silence before someone else from the crowd shouted. "Who the hell are you?!"

"You don't know ME?! The great and mighty King Bebebe?!"

"Good to see you haven't changed at all, Bebebe." Kurabe said to the loud penguin.

Without missing a beat, he turned to her while still speaking into the mic.

"Greetings, O Lady of Shadows, how are you?"

"I've been quite well. Much busier than last time we talked, but nothing I can't handle."

As they continued their casual conversation, Meta turned to Mercury.

"Mercury, who is that man? He seems... strange."

"That's King Bebebe. He's a king that Kurabe often takes missions from."

"Not only that, but he's an avid supporter of the Organization. We're on good terms with him and his country." Reedy explained further.

Meta just blinked at this. "What country?"

"The Crescent Kingdom. A peaceful kingdom inhabited mostly by penguins like Bebebe, but other races do live there as well."

Meta nodded in understanding. Then he heard Heimham clear his throat and take the microphone from the king.

"That's enough, all of you. We need to focus finding the hivemind before something-"

Suddenly, all the lights in the mansion turned off, covering everything in darkness. Then just as quickly as they disappeared, the lights came back on.

"IT'S THE HIVEMIND! THE HIVEMIND IS DOING THIS!" One of the guests shouted.

"It's those damn Limets!" Another one chimed in.

Mercury moved closer to Reedy and Kurabe, slightly shuddering in discomfort.

"...for the hivemind to be able to hide this well, there's no doubt it's a rank 10..." Reedy uttered under his breath.

Suddenly. there was an ear-piercing shriek.

"HE'S DEAD!" Someone shouted.

One of the party goers was indeed dead and it looked like all of his energy was completely drained from him. That wasn't the worst part however, as the victim's face was horribly disfigured, making it impossible to tell who the victim even was.

"Sir, we need to do the test, NOW!" Reedy yelled urgently.

"R-right!" The man then turned to the crowd. "Everyone, calm down. We need you to do the test!"

The crowd was too much in a panic to listen. Kurabe sighed as mana coursed through her body.

With a mana charged shout, she yelled. "SETTLE DOWN UNLESS YOU WANT TO DIE!"

That caused everyone to become silent and stare at her.

"Now, let's calm down and talk this out like adults. We're all going to take the Reedy Exam, it's the only way for us to completely guarantee we can find the hivemind. Unless you'd rather the other option..."

With a single clack of her heel on the floor, the entire surrounding floor area was now covered in ice. Everyone shook their heads in fear.

"Good. Reedy, please explain how the test works."

"Very well." Reedy then took the microphone.

"Can't we just heat up a hot wire and test everyone's blood?" A random guest asked.

"Do you really think we have time to test the blood of everyone here? Besides, that's only effective for telling the difference between Limets and non-Limets." Reedy said bluntly. "Plus, not every species has blood. So, a test like that would be pointless."

"Then what do we do?"

"I was going to explain that before you interrupted me." The man replied in an annoyed tone. "Normal test administration is a pair of two aspects: Asking questions to elicit an emotional response and forcing a hivemind body to react using electricity, or extreme heat or cold in dire situations. As Heimham noted, this test has a 0.01% fail rate, which makes it nearly impossible for a hivemind to pass except for under extremely rare circumstances that I doubt would happen."

"Then why don't you go first, huh!? Show us you aren't actually the hivemind!" One of them asked.

"I shall. Kurabe, ask me a question."

The warrior nodded. "Alright. Why did you decide to marry Raita?"

"Starting strong I see. That's very you, Kurabe. Very well. It starts with my first meeting with Raita. I was out on a mission, and I was wounded rather fatally. I would have died if not for a certain wandering medic. Raita found my half dead body and managed to heal me back to full health. I asked her why she would risk healing me, seeing as she had no idea if I was hostile or not. She responded with "all living creatures deserve compassion". Then I asked if even a monster like myself deserved kindness. For reference, back then, I had a myriad of issues I'd rather not talk about it. She told me that if I really was a monster, I would have killed her instead of talking with her like I had been. Since that day we would always make time to meet up and eventually I stopped viewing myself in such a negative way. Raita saved me in more than one way and that is why I will always love her."

Kurabe nodded. "I see. I believe that is sufficient proof that you are not one."

"While it should be, may as well do the cold test, for efficiency's sake."

She then hid a smirk.

"As you wish."

Tracing a rune and opening her mouth, a blast of cold air came out and surrounded Reedy. While it was clear he hated it, he didn't react violently to it either.

"Ok, ok, you can stop now, Kurabe." He groaned.

"Really? But I'm having so much fun with this."

"I know you are, woman, but we still have to test every guest! We don't have time for this childishness!"

That seemed to snap her back. "Ah, right, right. So, who should be next, then?"

"Do me so I can leave already!" Bebebe yelled out.

"Alright, since you volunteered, you can go next." Reedy nodded.

But just as they were about to perform the test, they were interrupted.

"Reedy, do you mind if I go to the bathroom?" He immediately knew the voice was Raita's.

The man slowly looked at her with an annoyed expression.

"Honey, I'd rather you didn't. We need everyone present for safety reasons."

"I'll go with her." Mercury said, standing up.

Meta quickly turned to her, as if shocked. "Mercury, are you sure it's fine if you go on your own with her? I-if you want, I can go with both of you!"

The woman shook her head.

"I appreciate the concern, but I'll be fine, Meta. Besides, you'll be helpful to Reedy with the tests, seeing as you're talented with reading others. Also, it's the girls room." She said, laughing at the last part.

He opened his mouth to protest, but then shut it in embarrassment.

"Ok..." was all he said.

She gave a slight nod and headed towards the exit with Raita.

"Mercury, just please promise me you'll come back safe!" The youth suddenly shouted.

"I will, Meta!" She replied with a wave as she exited.

"So, are we gonna get on with this test or what?" Bebebe grumbled, arms crossed.

"Oh, right."

Kurabe then did the cold test on Bebebe. The Waddle Dee assistant stared blankly as the king was turned into an ice cube for a brief moment.

"...I think he's not a hivemind."

"I knew that already. He was too impatient to be one."

---------

As Raita went in to use the restroom, Mercury waited outside on her own.

That bad feeling still was present, and it shook her to the core. While all hiveminds were frightening, there was one detail about this one that made it particularly that to her: it was a level 10 on the strength spectrum. In other words, it was on Reedy's level of strength. There was no doubt that encountering it would be fatal for her, due to her strength being that of a level 8. She clenched her shawl uneasily. It wasn't just this feeling of loneliness despite Raita being nearby or the idea that a hivemind is present that made her uneasy. It was the atmosphere of this hallway. It was dimly lit, a bit chilly, and simply made her even more frightened. A part of her wanted to take Meta's offer but she was against it full heartedly. She was right when she said he'd be more useful helping Reedy. That and she didn't want to risk him getting attacked by the hivemind. He was strong for his age, but nowhere strong enough to handle the hivemind. He would die for sure, and she wanted to avoid that. It was the same with Kurabe. While she would be able to handle herself against the hivemind due to her powerful ice magic, she was better suited to helping Reedy. Not only that, but Mercury would simply never be able to forgive herself if something happened to her. Honestly, she wanted Kurabe to just freeze the entire mansion, but she knew Kurabe wouldn't do that. The amount of power needed to freeze every inch of this place could potentially kill herself and Reedy. Kurabe would never risk that. It made her feel... helpless.

"Raita, how much longer are you going to be?" She suddenly asked. She just wanted to get back with the others as soon as possible. At least if she was with Kurabe, she would feel somewhat safe.

"Sorry, Mercury, I'll be done soon!"

"Please make it quick, Raita, I'm getting tired of waiting."

"Lucky for you, you won't have to wait much longer."

A new, terrifying voice said from behind Mercury.

"WHO ARE-!?" She couldn't even finish that sentence.

The moment she looked behind her, she saw a formless and vaguely humanoid mass. It was the hivemind. Her heart stopped. How... how was it here already? She didn't even hear any movement this entire time! Her instincts were telling her to run and scream for help. She tried to move, but she couldn't. She tried to scream, but she couldn't. It was like her entire body was paralyzed with fear. But she had to try her hardest. Just at least let someone know.

"SOMEONE HELP-"

"Now, now, none of that, my dear." The hivemind said while covering her mouth and pushing her into the wall.

The moment Mercury squirmed and attempted to scream for help again; she felt her lips begin to fuse closed as the liquid metal within them began to be absorbed. Suddenly, she heard Raita's voice from inside the bathroom.

"Mercury, is everything ok out there!?"

"Everything's fine, Raita. Take your time." The hivemind said, using Mercury's voice to answer.

Mercury's eyes widened even further. This was it; this was how she died: Slowly losing everything that made her who she is.

"Now, little Mercury, time to hand over that core of yours. Don't worry, I'll take good care of it."

Why did it have to ask that? It was going to take her core whether she wants it to or not. Before she could think anything else, she felt the hivemind's fingers take hold of her core and Mercury began to feel indescribable pain, all while her liquid metal body was slowly being absorbed into the hivemind's, shrinking ever so slowly. She could feel it digging deeper and deeper into her chest as it did, scraping away all the liquid metal surrounding it and absorbing it into its body, as if to show that she was completely defenseless and there was no escape.

"Please... stop...!" That was the only thing she could think.

The pain in her core only began to increase, as if giving a response to her plea to stop.

"Nghh... it hurts... it hurts... it hurts...!"

"There's nothing to be afraid of, Mercury." The hivemind spoke as it began to develop a strange, fishlike eye that stared at her unblinking. "You'll live on as a part of me. Doesn't that sound nice?"

"No, it doesn't you monster!" She tried to scream but was simply unable to due to her mouth being fused.

Her consciousness began to unravel. Her core shrilled even more with pain that was even worse than before. The metal on her body further melted and was absorbed. She had to do something, anything to get away. She couldn't die, not now! She needed to keep her promise to Meta. She needed to see her family again! She couldn't die full of regrets. But with each passing second, the faces of her family and friends were slowly fading away from her memory. Her consciousness was becoming fuzzier, with all of her thoughts becoming more and more incoherent. Tears were now flowing from her eyes, eyes that were slowly being absorbed with the rest of her face. At this point, she was just numb. There was no pain... or if there was, she could no longer feel it. Or was she simply desensitized to it? No, there was no way she would become desensitized to that much pain. But there was another question that came across her mind: Was this what it was like to be assimilated? If it was, it was the worst experience she'd ever had. At this point, she was almost completely absorbed. This was it. This was how she died. Her thoughts began to scramble even more as she panicked. She had to do something, anything to get away. With the last of her consciousness, Mercury noticed the hivemind was loosening its grip on her core, probably thinking it already won. With all the remaining energy she had, Mercury managed to snatch her core out of its grip and shot it out of her body like a cannon. The core flew straight down the hall, covered with a small amount of metal, enough to at least form into her base, slime-like form. The hivemind, who quickly took Mercury's appearance, just stared down the hall.

"No matter, I got what I needed. I can hunt the rest of her down later." It said with a sinister chuckle before walking back towards the ballroom.

Meanwhile, Mercury herself remained still. She was slightly dazed as she began to process what happened. Then she felt it. The immense pain that emanated from her core.

"It hurts..." She whimpered as she slowly inched along the floor.

"It hurts..."

Tears began to well up in her eyes.

"It hurts..."

She gave a slight shudder. Just... focus on finding metal. Then she could safely return to the group. She travelled down the hallway, as if in a trance.

"It hurts... it hurts..."

Getting further down the hall, Mercury came across the mansion's kitchen. Thankfully it was completely empty so she could absorb metal in peace. Well, Heimham wasn't going to like losing multiple pots and pans, but she had to absorb them. Well, at least that would be the case at first. There was no doubt he would understand everything once it was explained later. She needed as much metal as she could get to return to a more mobile form and tell the others about the hivemind. Unless... it had already reached them and killed them! No, she shouldn't think like that. But on second thought... why shouldn't she at this point, though? One of the biggest worst-case scenarios have already happened! What's stopping her from thinking about much deadlier ones? Nothing, that's what. For all she knows, everyone could already be dead, and it would all be because of her. All because... she was just like that monster. No, she shouldn't think like that. Kurabe wouldn't die that easily. Neither would Reedy or Meta. No matter how much it hurt for her to exist, she had to try. She needed to see her family's faces one more time. With a renewed determination, Mercury began to absorb all the metal she could.

---------

Meanwhile, Meta was growing even more concerned as time went on. None of the people he helped test were the hivemind and Mercury had yet to return with Raita. He then felt a hand on his head and looked up to see it was Kurabe.

"It's going to be fine, Meta. I'm sure Mercury is still ok. She promised that she'd come back."

"I know that, sensei, but I can't stop being worried about her. I've never seen her act so afraid before." Meta replied, his tone full of sadness.

"I'm worried, too, but we have to trust in her, ok?" She said before triggering another ice spell on some guests.

He only silently nodded.

Suddenly, the door to the ballroom slammed open and there stood Mercury, barely standing, her dress tattered, and looking extremely disheveled.

"M-Mercury!? What happened?!" Reedy was the first one to shout.

"The hivemind attacked me, but I was barely able to get away!" The woman quickly responded, stepping further into the room.

Reedy, Kurabe and Meta looked incredibly shocked, but before they could react to the news, a second Mercury appeared from the opposite side of the ballroom, her dress also tattered and looking equally disheveled.

"Don't listen to that monster! That thing is the hivemind!"

"Damn it, we've reached a worst-case scenario." Reedy grumbled urgently as he placed a finger on his chin.

"Why's that, can't we just freeze both and see which one reacts violently?" Heimham asked, hiding behind the group of interrogators.

"Unfortunately, no. When a hivemind manages to absorb even a small amount of another Limet, the surge in power temporarily removes that weakness. It's still weak to cold but it won't react violently like it would before." The man quickly explained, a grim expression on his face.

"Then I'll try reading their emotions!" Meta yelled, desperate to find and help the real Mercury.

However, to his surprise, he couldn't sense anything from either of them. Both the Mercurys' emotions were too scrambled for him to get a proper reading.

"I... I can't tell a thing..."

"That's exactly what I was afraid of. The real Mercury must have been reasonably traumatized, so it's impossible to accurately read her emotions." Reedy continued his explanation.

Meta froze up when he heard that. Just the thought of Mercury going through something like that made him sick to his stomach.

"Reedy, Kurabe, Meta, you all know I'm the real one! Please stop the hivemind!"

"Don't you dare try and deceive them, you monster! They'll never fall for it!"

"Why would I need to deceive them when I'm the real Mercury?"

"You will never be me!"

The Mercurys kept shouting at each other while many of the party guests ran out of the mansion in a panicked frenzy, leaving only Kurabe, Meta, Reedy, the two Mercurys, and Heimham behind. For a moment, the warrior stared at the argument silently before she flicked her wrists to create runes. It was then that the two Mercurys were encased in two individual boxes of ice.

"In case you both have forgotten; you have one more test to complete... one that will no doubt prove who the real Mercury is. The questioning round."

She calmly stepped down from the stage and stepped in front of them.

"I'm going to ask you both a few questions... questions that only the real Mercury could answer. If your answers are wrong... well, I don't think I need to tell you what will happen. Do I make myself clear?" She finished coldly.

While Meta wanted to ask why his mentor was acting like this, he could already sense the fear and worry emanating from her. This was merely an act she was putting on to make herself seem brave and focus herself on finding the hivemind. One Mercury had a confident grin while the other looked on edge but nodded her head.

"To the real Mercury, I'm very sorry about this..." Kurabe whispered low enough so no one can hear it.

"First question: Why do you like being in your humanoid form rather than your blob form?"

The on-edge Mercury quickly answered. "All Limets are born looking mostly the exact same. I hated being just another face in the crowd. I wanted a form that allowed me to express who I actually am."

Kurabe then glared at her. "...and?"

"...I like being tall." The woman finished shyly.

She then turned to the one that grinned.

"And what is your answer?"

"Self-expression. I always hated being a blob. Being so small and defenseless. In this form I can actually be Mercury instead of a Limet named Mercury."

Kurabe glared at this Mercury. Unfortunately, both of these statements are accurate to the real Mercury, so she gave a slight sigh.

"Second question, what made you want to become my friend and eventual vice-captain?"

The one that grinned spoke first. "We were comrades in arms, were we not?"

The one on edge gave a genuine smile. "You saved my life. I would have died that day if not for you, not to mention how you were always quick to defend me when someone accused me of being... a monster." Her face fell after the word "monster" left her mouth.

The warrior nodded again. "Third question: what was the happiest day of your life?"

The grinning one immediately stopped and actually had to think. The other one, however...

"That's easy. It was the day you asked me to be your partner. Up to that point, I only joined the organization because I wanted to prove not all Limets were evil. But it was tough, every day another person would insult and ridicule me. You helped put a stop to all of that. When I joined your team, I felt like I could actually be happy for once. Even if I didn't deserve it."

Kurabe then nodded. "And what about you?"

"The day I came up with my humanoid form. That was the day I could truly be me."

Kurabe seemed to glare doubtfully. "Fourth question: How do you feel about Reedy?"

"He's overbearing at times and can be quite a pain, but I still look up to him and love him like a brother." The previously on edge Mercury answered instantly. It seemed as if she was slowly becoming calmer with each passing question.

She then turned to the other Mercury.

"He's my brother. He's helped me a lot throughout my life, and I'll always be grateful for that."

Kurabe exhaled once more.

"Fifth question: How do you feel about Meta?"

The calm Mercury quickly answered. "At first, I wasn't sure what to think about him. I thought he was a good kid when we first met but now, he's like a little brother to me. Watching him slowly develop the past few years has made me so proud of him."

The warrior then turned to the other one. "And what about you?"

"He's a... good friend."

Kurabe then became silent for a moment before speaking once more.

"Final question! This is the ultimate question that only the real Mercury could answer!" She shouted, pausing for the sake of tension. "How did Meta propose to you!?"

The calm one lost her composure, and her face became red.

"Kurabe, what the hell are you talking about!?" She shouted.

"That's easy, with a ring and a bouquet of roses." The grinning one answered.

Instantly, several spikes of ice shot through the grinning one's chest.

"That was a trick question. It never happened." Kurabe said coldly with a single, red-eyed glare.

That Mercury slowly morphed back into its original form, still grinning. A grin void of any emotion. In fury, Kurabe traced another rune, covering the entire inside of the box with spikes. Then, the spikes began to grow larger and larger, slowly encroaching to pierce the core.

"I'm going to make sure you suffer before you die." Kurabe uttered with a slightly sinister chuckle.

"Kurabe before you administer the killing blow, I have one question for the hivemind."

She looked back to see that it was Reedy who interrupted her. He adjusted his glasses, as if looking down on the hivemind.

"What was your plan? Why this party and why Mercury?" He then asked, not even bothering to hide his anger.

"That's quite simple. I've learned of this party while scavenging for food. I always enjoyed the taste of the rich and greedy. You can imagine my surprise when I saw... not only one Limet, but two! My original plan was to absorb the weaker one and maybe even absorb you. Then when I gained a few of her memories I hatched another idea. I would sneak my way into the GranEssex and kill everyone on board, starting with the so-called Unkillable. Unfortunately, I didn't account for the real Mercury to regenerate that quickly."

"I see." Reedy said coldly. He then summoned a bow and arrow and fired it, obliterating the head. "Kurabe, please finish the core."

"Don't need to ask me twice."

With a quick flick of the wrist, the hivemind's core was completely destroyed by ice, leaving nothing behind. At the same time, the true Mercury was freed from the ice box and was quickly wrapped up in a hug from Kurabe. After a short moment, the woman began to speak up.

"Kurabe, I'm-"

"Shhh... don't apologize, Mercury. It wasn't your fault." Her voice began to tremble. "If this is anyone's fault, it's mine. I should have gone with you..."

"No, if anyone is to blame, it's me. I should have objected more than I did. I failed you, Mercury, and I know I can never make it up to you." Reedy uttered, kneeling down beside her.

"No, it's my fault! I should've gone with her!" Meta then shouted.

Heimham quietly watched on, his eyes slowly watering. He blamed himself for this mess as it was his party that brought that monster here in the first place.

Mercury couldn't find the words she wanted to say. She was overwhelmed by the love and support she was receiving, even if she believed she didn't deserve it. She quietly allowed Kurabe to keep holding her tight, before falling asleep.

The warrior smiled despite the tears forming in her eyes. "Sleep well, my sister."

Slowly the rest of the guests came back in after being told it was safe to return to the party.

Then Raita entered.

"Hey, guys, is Mercury here? I didn't see her outside the bathroom and-"

She then saw the group together, with Reedy carrying a sleeping Mercury in his arms. Immediately, she flew up to her husband.

"Reedy, what happened to her? Is she-?"

"I'll explain later. We're leaving now."

He then turned back to Heimham.

"Mr. Heimham, on behalf of both me and the Lady of Shadows, we would like to formally apologize for causing this trouble and to pardon us for leaving early." He quickly said with a bow.

"Nonsense. Neither of you have anything to apologize about. Please tell Miss Mercury that I'm deeply sorry for what happened when she wakes up."

Kurabe simply nodded. "Very well, I will."

"Why are you just letting that thing get away-?!"

One of guests started to say before being immediately cut off by Meta pointing his sword at them. "Be quiet. The only monsters here are the ones I'm looking at."

The party guest only stared in silence as Meta gave another glare towards him and followed his mentor out.

---------

Upon reaching the ship Mercury started to regain consciousness and saw that Reedy was carrying her.

"I'm still alive?"

"Yes, you are. And to make sure of it, Raita was healing your injuries on the way back." He replied.

She then looked at the fairy, who quickly bowed. "Mercury, I'm so sorry, it's all my fault that-"

"Please don't apologize, Raita. Don't blame yourself." Mercury said as she shook her head. She then stepped onto the ground herself. "Everyone, I'm sorry I..."

She shook her head.

"Thank you for taking me back here, everyone. I'm just going to go to sleep now... I feel so tired..." She began to stumble on to the ship.

"Mercury, are you sure you're ok?" Kurabe asked, stepping forward to attempt to assist her.

"I'll be fine. Don't worry." She gave a smile in response.

The warrior wanted to stop her and talk but she also knew Mercury needed to sleep. She looked like she could collapse at any minute.

"At least allow me to walk you to your room."

"Thank you, but I can walk on my own."

Kurabe just stared at her doubtfully. "Mercury, please sleep well."

The woman nodded back.

"I'll try to."

She then left to head to her room.

After a moment of silence, Reedy spoke up. "Kurabe, if you don't mind, may I stay on your ship for a few days?"

"Permission granted. I'm going to need all the help I can get." She replied with a simple nod.

Meanwhile, Meta was just looking quietly at where Mercury was standing in concern.

---------

After a bit of struggling, Mercury managed to make it to her room and shut the door. She slowly ambled her way to her bed and simply collapsed, having barely any energy left.

"...it hurts." she whispered.

Slowly, she morphed into her blob form, unable to... or rather, unwilling to stay in her humanoid form. Visions of what the hivemind did to her kept flashing through her mind, one aspect sticking out more than any other: assimilation. A horrible, disgusting process that she herself was capable of doing. It absolutely sickened her to no end fully knowing that she shared anything in common with that monster.

"It hurts..."

The pain was still fresh in her memory. It was sharp and agonizing, it made her genuinely feel she was going to die. Is that really how it felt? Is that what she did when she assimilated? Is that what everything felt when they were assimilated?

"It hurts..."

Then her core, her heart. It was attacked violently, there was nothing more to say. Simply put, she felt completely and utterly violated. Or... maybe that was just payment for being born as such an utterly disgusting creature. One that could do such a disgusting and horrible practice that only made her sick the more she thought about it. The faces of family again flashed through her mind, but she couldn't see their smiles anymore.

"I'm sorry, everyone."

She let out a quiet sob.

"...I'm a monster."

--

Toyhouse pages for characters first appearing in this chapter:

Raita

King Bebebe

Morimura Dee

[mi-rae07]

can i hve a San drabble,like angst cz i am in da mood rn :>

btw i am addicted to ur blog i started a few weeks ago

Choi San : Once Upon A Time

Pairing : Choi San (Ateez) and named character (Park Sunhee)

____________

A/n : well TO BE FAIR, I did start this off as a drabble, but you can't really blame me it turned into an entire story, can you? It just happens to me.

But thank you!

_____________

Sunhee : and the matters of that village we last talked about, minister?

Minister : it's all under control, your majesty. The people seem to be cooperating well enough.

Sunhee : that is not what I asked, minister. Their health, have the doctors found a cure to their disease yet?

Minister : unfortunately, no. but they have found out that this disease is communicable. Hence why the village is under a lockdown currently.

Sunhee : and how long is this cure going to take? Until my people die of it?

Minister : this is new for all of us, your majesty. All we can do for now, is prevent it from spreading to more people. And you too, please stay safe and try not to step outside of the palace much during these times.

Sunhee let out a breath, standing up from her seat in the meeting room as the other ministers rose as well.

Sunhee : a queen without her people, is no queen at all. I hope you remember that as you work forward, ministers.

Sunhee turned around and walked out of the room, the ministers' heads bowed down as they muttered a chorus of "your majesty's". Sunhee opened the door to her private chambers, rushing to her bathroom as the sight of a knight came to her view. The person that was her retreat from this cruel world, the person that had kept her sane while being queen for the past 5 years.

Sunhee ran towards him, crashing into his arms as san wrapped his arms around her waist with a chuckle. Sunhee wrapped her arms tighter around san's neck, bringing him as close to her as possible.

San : had a bad day?

Sunhee : please don't leave, san-ah.

San smiled, nuzzling his head onto sunhee's shoulder. This was their time of the day, the few hours that the both of them had always cherished. San wouldn't dare leave even if he was forcefully dragged out of her room.

San : I didn't take all this trouble and lied to all your guards to just leave, sweetheart.

Sunhee sighed, resting her head against san's shoulders. She knew how wrong this was, she always did. A queen, with a knight? It would be frowned upon by the entire nation, and it could cause the execution of san. Since he was from the lower rank, only he would be blamed for all this. Which was why they had been meeting in secret like this for the past 5 years, it was the only way the both of them could be together without causing their own deaths.

San slowly brought his hand to the string that tied sunhee's dress together, pulling on it as it came loose. Sunhee hummed as san pulled the first layer of her clothing down, kissing her neck with closed eyes. Sunhee tangled her fingers in his hair, her head feeling light.

Sunhee : san.

San : shh, let me.

San stripped sunhee off of her clothes one by one, all while walking her towards the bathtub. And soon enough sunhee was sitting in the bathtub, san kneeling down next to her right outside the tub. Sunhee ran her hand along san's hair, dampening it as san scrubbed her clean with a soap.

Sunhee : you're so beautiful, choi san.

San smiled, it wasn't the first time he was hearing this but it never got old. Especially when it came from someone twice as pretty as he was.

San : honored, your grace.

Sunhee : san-ah.

San : mm?

Sunhee : I hate that we have to keep hiding like this.

Wasn't the first time either. San sighed, keeping the soap away as he let the water from the bathtub clean her body.

San : sunhee-ya, you know we have no other choice.

Sunhee : but you're a knight, it can't be that bad, right?

San : I am only a knight, love. While you're a queen, queen of the most powerful nation this land has ever seen. And before that, you were a princess. Sunhee, you were born into royalty, born into a life that I couldn't even dream of. As much as I want to be with you openly, you know we both can't.

Sunhee pressed her lips together, her hands clenching against san's as she whispered

Sunhee : come closer to me then.

San smiled and moved closer to his queen, her pulling him closer towards her before crashing her lips against his. San breathed heavily and lifted sunhee off the bathtub, the water from her body drenching his clothes as he walked with her towards the bed. But he could care less, about anything in this world except park sunhee.

Sunhee : I love you.

San : I love you more, my queen.

____________________________

San stepped out of the queen's chambers a few hours later, buttoning his shirt properly as the guards right outside the room bowed at him. He was popular enough among the public and his own soldiers. San nodded with a smile and was about to walk away when a voice disrupted him

??? : what were you doing with my sister, knight?

San turned around to face the queen's brother, Park Seo-jin. San bowed as he muttered under his breath

San : lord prince.

He hated the prince.

Seojin : I asked you a question, knight.

San : the queen and I had some matters to talk about, your highness.

Seojin : matters at this time of the night?

San : yes.

Seojin : do you think the both of you are being that sneaky, knight? You think everyone else is stupid?

San bit his lip. He knew seojin wanted the throne for himself, he had been enraged when his father had passed down the crown to a woman, instead of him. It had crumbled his ego to watch the coronation of his own sister. Ever since then he had tried countless ways to bring sunhee down, all of it failing miserably.

San : and? Do you have proof to show to the ministry that her majesty and I have indulged in improper acts as you accuse us of?

Seojin stared at san with wide enraged eyes, his hand clenching on his sword. But the both of them knew seojin could do nothing. Sunhee was far too loved and respected by the entire nation, and san was the commander of the royal army and navy. They were both too important to be killed like that.

San : do not question the dignity of my queen, lord prince. For if I hear another word of that sort coming out of your mouth, I shall have your tongue cut off, prince or not.

San turned around and walked away from a stunned seojin, a victorious smirk on his lips.

___________________________

A month later :

Sunhee : what? San, no!

San : sunhee-ya, shh. Listen to me first-

Sunhee : so that you can get yourself killed? San, do not be stupid.

Sunhee was about to walk away when san held her arm, bringing her close to him as he said softly

San : I'm only going for a small battle, sunhee. I will be fine, alright?

Sunhee let out an exasperated breath, looking away with fear in her eyes. She hated when san had to go for battles that were outside of her territory. Because it meant that if something were to happen to san, there would be nothing she could do for him since he was under the territory of another ruler.

Sunhee : you are sacrificing your safety for this, san. Why can't you just send someone else-

San : sunhee, I am a knight. My duty is to protect this nation.

Sunhee : protect, not die for it.

San held sunhee's cheek, shaking his head as he whispered

San : I will come back to you, my love, I promise.

Sunhee wrapped her arms around san, hugging him like her life depended on it. She knew she couldn't stop him, this had to be done.

Sunhee : please don't die. I have no one in the world apart from you.

San smiled, kissing her cheek before whispering

San : I will try not to, my queen.

________________________________

2 days later :

Sunhee was now pacing around the throne room, knowing that today was the day san was supposed to come back from battle. She had no news from him whatsoever, or from anyone else that had gone with him to battle. Which had been expected, but sunhee still worried. For her men, and for san.

Sunhee looked up as the throne room door burst open, revealing a guard who bowed down while breathing heavily.

Sunhee : yes? Have they returned?

Guard : they have, your majesty. But the knight, lord san has been injured very badly-

Sunhee cut the guard off as she ran past him abruptly, the guard shocked at how fast she was with all that she was wearing. Sunhee gasped as she saw a few soldiers holding san up by his shoulders while walking towards the infirmary, san's head lowered. There were hundreds of other citizens standing right outside, meaning to welcome their soldiers after a victorious battle. But sunhee did not bother caring about them, as her eyes were trained only on san who seemed to be in too much pain.

Sunhee let out a breath and ran down the steps, the people's eyes widening at the sight of their queen. Sunhee rushed towards san, quickly holding onto san as the other soldiers stepped back with their heads bowed.

Sunhee could hear gasps and mutters of shock around her as she touched san's pale cheek with her gloved hand.

Sunhee : san-ah. San, look at me!

Sunhee lowered the both of them to the ground, san's upper body rested on sunhee's lap as she held his cheek that was smeared with dried blood. She could care less about the dirt and blood getting on her clothes, and she could care less about anyone and anything except san.

Sunhee : no no no, you promised you would come back to me!

San's eyes slowly fluttered open, his eyes hazy as he coughed hoarsely. Sunhee stared at him with anxious eyes, placing one of her hand against his chest as she felt his heart beat hard against her palm. He was alive, thank god.

San : sun-sunhee?

Sunhee sobbed in relief as she hugged san, the soldiers and the people around looking away in part shock and part respect. They were shocked, to say the least, but that didn't lessen their respect for their queen.

Sunhee didn't seem to care, but san did, despite the immense pain he was in. and although this was what he had always wanted, for sunhee to hold him like this right after battle, for her warmth to give him comfort, he couldn't let this happen in front of all these people.

San : oh no. no sunhee, the…the people. You can't…you're not supposed to-

Sunhee : I don't care. I don't care san, let them be.

Sunhee pulled back, eyeing san's wounded body. A thousand different cuts littered all around his body, a few stab wound in his left arm and slash marks visible at every inch of his body.

Sunhee : you're hurt. San you…I told you not to go-

San : sunhee you have to le-let go before your mother-

??? : PARK SUNHEE!

Sunhee shut her eyes tightly as she heard her mother walk up to them hastily.

Sona : what the hell is this? What…is that choi san?

Sunhee : mother, please. He needs help. I-

Sona : are you in love with this man?

The spite in her mother's voice caused shivers to run down sunhee's spine as she held san's weak body closer to her own body protectively.

Sunhee : and if I am?

Sona : YOU LITTLE-

Sunhee turned to a soldier before saying, ignoring her mother completely

Sunhee : call the doctors to my chambers.

Sona : YOUR CHAMBERS! SUNHEE ARE YOU MAD-

Sunhee : THIS IS MY NATION, MOTHER! THIS IS MY NATION AND I AM QUEEN! Hence you will listen, and step aside before I ask someone to physically hold you back from me.

Sunhee turned to the solider once again with fierce eyes as she said more sternly this time

Sunhee : call, the doctor, soldier.

The solider bowed and ran towards the insides of the palace with a small smile on his face. Sona stared in pure shock as sunhee ran her thumb along san's cheek, his big eyes staring back at her with a thousand emotions. Sunhee gave him a small comforting smile

Sunhee : you're going to be fine, my love.

The people outside the palace gates watched the entire thing in awe, some of them having smiles on their faces. Except what any of them didn't know was that the crown prince was watching the entire thing with a wicked smirk on his face, snapping his finger as his secretary rushed up to him.

??? : yes, my lord?

Seojin : round the ministers up for a meeting. It's time for a change of monarchs.

___________________________

Sunhee was now sitting next to san on her bed, slowly brushing past san's hair as he slept peacefully with bandages wrapped around his body. Sona was staring at the both of them with furious eyes, asking under her breath

Sona : when did you start loving him?

Sunhee : the day father announced me queen. I've always been in love with him, mother.

Sona : he is a mere knight, sunhee. He is not even a baron. He has no amount of royal blood in him.

Sunhee : I do not love him for his royalty, mother. I love him for the man he is.

Sona : the people will talk, sunhee.

Sunhee : then let them. I still remain queen.

Sona : if it goes this way, you will not. Sunhee, you know the rules. A queen, marries a king. Or even a prince, that is the lowest we can go. Any other person of any other title than those, are not fit to marry someone like you. You know what happens if it does.

Execution, that was all.

Sunhee : I will not let anyone hurt him.

Sona : don't you understand, daughter? You won’t have a choice! Your brother-

Sona cut herself off as a knock was heard on the door before it opened.

Guard : your majesty, your highness, the crown prince requests the both of you to come to the throne room. He has summoned for an official meeting with the ministers.

___________________________

Minister : the word has spread around the nation like a wild fire, your highnesses. There is no way we can take anything back now.

Sunhee : and? Why are we so concerned over a few words?

Minister : because our nation depends upon it, your majesty. You are only allowed to marry someone of your own status, by royal decree. Lord san is all but a knight. If you marry him, it leads only to execution.

This had been going on for an hour now. Again and again, the same literal thing. You cannot marry him without killing him.

Except she could, and sunhee had decided something the moment san had came back from battle, wounded.

Sunhee : you think I will stand still while I have a bunch of men executing the man that I love, minister?

Seojin : this, is what I have been trying to say all this while, ministers of court. A woman, is unable to rule a nation, she always will be. A woman is only capable of falling in love, and taking care of her husband. A queen is useless to our nation.

Sunhee turned to glare at her brother who was sitting on his seat next to where she was sitting on her own throne.

Sunhee : shall I tell them of what a man has done to our nation's treasury, brother? The amount of money you have lost through gambling?

The ministers gasped at that. Seojin's eyes turned angry as he turned towards his sister

Seojin : you-

Sunhee : I may be unable to rule this nation properly, but you are no more capable of ruling it than I am. You are unable to rule even over your own self, dear brother. How would anyone expect you, a man, to rule over this entire nation, then?

Seojin : how dare you.

Sunhee : I may lose this throne, but I certainly will not let you sit on it either.

Seojin let out a triggered noise before standing up from his seat, taking out his sword from it's sheath as he was about to point it at sunhee who sat unbothered on her throne. The guards around her was about to point their own swords at seojin when another sword was heard unsheathing, it's golden blade blocking seojin's path as the minsters gasped.

Sunhee : san!

San glared at seojin with fierce eyes, bringing the edge of his sword closer to seojin as seojin stepped back in part fear. He looked every inch of the knight he was, and sunhee had no idea how san had managed to dress himself up in the state he was last in.

San : point your sword at my queen once more, and I will have your ribs shattered into bits.

Seojin : you would not dare.

Except san did not take his eyes off seojin's, almost burning a hole right through his skull with the stare. Seojin let out a huff and sheathed his sword back, stepping aside as san finally lowered his sword as well.

Sunhee : you're not supposed to be here. Go back to my room, san.

San : this is our mess, I will not let you deal this by yourself.

Before sunhee could protest further san stood to the side of the throne sunhee was sitting on, the gleaming point of his sword touching the ground as san said

San : I am in love with the queen.

Sunhee shut her eyes tightly, the ministers staring at san with wide eyes. No one had expected san to actually say that out loud.

San : and if that goes against your rules, goes against the entire nation, then so be it. If that makes me a criminal, then so be it. If that would lead me to my death, then, so be it.

Seojin scoffed, looking away in dismay. Sunhee could only stare at san helplessly.

San : but I will not let anyone say anything against the queen because of this. She sits in this throne because she deserves to, and she's done an amazing job at proving her worth to the people, and this court. And as for the people who do not believe in her rule, you are all free to step out of this nation and never return.

Sunhee looked up at san, her eyes wide. What the hell was he going to do? San raised his head, his eyes not betraying a single emotion as he said

San : kill me if that pleases you, do whatever you want with me-

Sunhee : no. no, san stop.

San : sunhee-

Sunhee : no!

This was it, this was the moment. Sunhee stood up from the throne, looking at the ministers with stern eyes.

Sunhee : the rule book, says that the queen or the king, must marry someone of their own status. If they refuse to do that, the one of the lower rank, gets executed. But that isn't the only way out.

Sona : no. no sunhee-

Sunhee : if I give up the crown, no one dies. If I give up my crown, I get to be with the man that I am now not allowed to be with.

San stared at sunhee with wide eyes as her hands went up to the crown on her head. And before anyone could say anything, sunhee took the crown off her head, placing it on the throne before saying, her words firm

Sunhee : I abdicate the throne.

The ministers started protesting, none of them wanting the queen to leave. But sunhee ignored them all, turning to face san as she said

Sunhee : for freedom, as we both always wanted.

San smiled, letting go of his royal sword as it clattered to the ground. He nodded as he held his arm out for sunhee to hold, the both of them descending the steps together. And just like that the both of them stepped out of the royal palace, the sight of a huge crowd of people standing below the steps coming into their view. And just by the sight of san and sunhee together, all of them seemed to know what had happened. Sunhee stared at them, waiting for anything they had to say.

Except soon enough the people parted into two sides, making a clear pathway for both sunhee and san to pass through. A smile was on all their faces, some of them nodding their heads. San smiled as he looked at sunhee who also seemed to have a proud smile on her face. They both walked down the steps of the palace together, each step reminding them of each of their moments, and all that they had left behind for love.

The people bowed down as san and sunhee walked past them arm-in-arm, sunhee saying words of thank you with a smile. Sona and seojin looked at all of that from the balcony of the palace, sona muttering to her son with a smile

Sona : wherever she goes, she will always remain queen, son.

The people cheered as sunhee and san walked towards their new life, a life filled with happiness and peace. And most importantly, togetherness.

And the world would remember them as the queen who left her crown for her knight, and the knight who was willing to sacrifice his entire life for his queen.

______________________

[crimsonlyinglilly]

Bonus Prompt “Please don’t leave me.”

Another day for @juneofdoom and second to last prompt with Caged Founder for this month before I return to a few of the other AUs

another look at Jason, or officially Jason de Martel. Happens after "They don't care about you."

Aurora and Elijah's bad days coincide leaving Tristan in charge of caring for their son.

Warning for depression and mental health issues.

---

Tristan, on some level knew this day was going to happen eventually, yet still he was unprepared.

Jason had been with them months, since Tristan realised that Finn’s death and his reaction to Elijah lying to him about it, trying to die wasn’t something a few days from the strix could fix.

He wasn’t even angry that Elijah’s death would have taken him with him, even the discovery that if it had worked Aurora would have died as well took second to his anger that Elijah still wanted to die.

He thought they had gotten past that, if he’s honest he’s angry at himself for forgetting the demons of the mind never leave. Tristan had watched over Aurora for centuries as her moods dripped and spiked, he knew the isolation necessary to protect Elijah had damaged him, he just hadn’t thought- hadn’t checked as well as he should have.

He’s reaction in the aftermath was overwhelming and unneeded, lashing out at Elijah for his own failings while the other man was dealing with his brother’s death, getting the other to beg and plead in a way he hadn’t ever in ninety years and ignoring it.

It was sheer luck and Elijah’s mental strength that meant he hadn't sent Elijah back to the state he was in, in the 1930s but even as Elijah returned to his day to day life following it, understandably cold to him he was missing something.

Aurora was the one who made him realise what he had missed.

“You made him stop trying to die, how are you planning to make him want to live?”

Elijah needed to care for someone else to keep him sane, apparently he just couldn’t live for himself selfishly.

Tristan was aware a child wouldn't fix everything, but since the trainees Aya collected and the young Sisters had helped distract and bring the brighter Elijah out over the years, Tristan had thought a child of he own would work.

It could have been any child, it wasn't like humans had a shortage of uncared for children, the constant line of teenagers Aya found for Elijah to train was proof. It was a slight coincidence that the boy was from a witch bloodline, orphaned in a house fire Aya had learnt was set by a set of modern witch hunters.

Elijah was a natural with him, which made sense with the stories he had learnt for their human life. Elijah had in a way raised his siblings when he was a child and never stopped.

Something that he shouldn't have been surprised since Elijah had been taking the youngest of the sisters that Aya found under his wing for decades now.

Broody hen. Finn had called him once, when Elijah had vanished from a conversation between the three of them to deal with something Kol had done.

It also wasn’t hard for Tristan to see the similarities between the two of The Sisters’ youngest members that found their way to Elijah's office some days to Elijah's youngest siblings, Kol and Rebekah.

He hadn’t expected to get attached to him himself, the boy had won Aurora quickly but he had also reminded Tristan of his long ignored dream of an heir of his own to carry his family line.

He was immortal so there was no need for one now, but he found he liked teaching the boy, since he had asked to learn French, liked having him look at him with joy without the weight of all the things he had done to hurt them between them.

Jason was innocent and while damaged from the burns and loss of his family it wasn’t caused by Tristan.

“Père?” Jason called looking from him to the chair Elijah had sat every morning since they had gotten Jason settled with them, “Where’s daddy?” Jason asks, adding “and mummy?” after Tristan places the cereal in front of him.

‘Bed’ was the clear answer but that would invite more questions of why, something he either didn't have an answer to.

If he knew what was wrong with his sister's mind he would have fixed it look ago, or didn't want to answer, that he was the cause of most of Elijah's darkest days and couldn't fix it now.

“They're not very well.” He answered instead.

Elijah had never missed one breakfast, even on his bad days so far he would arrive before Jason in a oversize hoodie, a gift from Mr. Davis, forcing himself to act fine. Today it seemed the dark mood he had fallen into was too bad for that.

“Broth?” Jason asked, for a moment Tristan thought he meant ‘both?’ before the child slipped off his chair and started to pull out a saucepan.

Right, because that had been what Elijah had made when Jason had fallen ill two months ago, while Aurora curled in bed with him and fussed over him, and Tristan had admittedly panicked looking for private doctors, Elijah had set about making a broth to fill him up and keep him hydrated.

In the aftermath he had taught Jason how he had made it, teaching the six year old while holding him on his hip.

Sadly this wasn't something that could be fixed with simple food.

Tristan was pulled from his thoughts by a crash as Jason attempted to put the saucepan on the counter top and knocked over the tea bag pot.

“You're going to have to teach your père what we need to do?” he confessed as he swept his son up and onto his hip the way he had seen Elijah do before he returned him to the table “But only after you've had your breakfast.”

While Jason returned to his cereal, Tristan pulled his phone free to look for easy recipes, suddenly aware he had no idea of what to do in the kitchen and what sort of food would help.

It was something Tristan wasn’t familiar with; he and Aurora had been raised by servants for the most part, people employed to care and living more in fear of their father than for them. For all Aurora would wonder if things would have been different if their mother hadn't died, Tristan doubts it with the few memories he had of her.

This was something he was going to have to learn, perhaps he should start paying more attention to Elijah's homemaking.

He was the head of a worldwide organisation he was admittedly out of his area with parenthood and it had become quite clear he messed up somewhere when the only two others he loved were damaged in part from him.

Jason was his chance to prove he had learned that he could love without destroying them as much as he was Elijah's distraction from his own family.

—--

Elijah should get up, every morning they had breakfast with Jason, even if Aurora and Tristan had missed a few, Elijah hadn't, even when he had a bad day he managed.

Yet this time he couldn't, his body refused to move, the weight in his chest growing with another failure.

It had only been a matter of time before he let down Jason, he swallowed the lump in his throat before the sob to escape him and rolled to place his face into the pillow instead of staring at the ceiling.

The most stupid thing about all this was he wasn't unhappy, while he was still caged it was gilded, if he couldn't get something he wanted himself all he had to do was ask, other than true freedom.

Even then all he had to put up with now was a team of bodyguards following him, if he wanted to travel, he could, with permission of course.

He had more power than he ever had with Klaus without the constant need to balance his siblings' tempers and arguments with needing to fix whatever they managed to break. His projects had changed and saved lives for the better of many.

Even Tristan's slip ups weren't truly any worse than Klaus' tantrums now, more imaginative sure but that was likely due to Klaus reliant on the dagger and while Tristan had one of them himself now, daggering Elijah would deprived Tristan of his company and Tristan loathed to deprive himself.

He missed his siblings more than a hole in his chest, something he was more than familiar with but as much as he hated to admit Tristan hadn't been wrong that Jason would help.

A child of his own was something he longed for since he wasn't much more than a child himself, he had dreamed of raising Hale with Tatia, had almost had it with Marcellus until he had been forced to give him up for Klaus' sake.

Jason was his in a way, the young witches or his trainee weren't, they were the Strix's first but Jason was theirs; Aurora and he had both made sure Tristan understood for all his words of heirs, Jason would get a choice about his future.

He was fine, he should be fine but yet this feeling of despair crushed him at the most unexpected times, he had arranged a trip to the zoo in two days for Jason with Ariane and Madison, he didn’t have time to waste away in bed.

He couldn’t stop the heavy sigh from leaving him as he rolled back to glare at the ceiling.

The sound and his movement pulled Aurora attention from her own staring, it was rare their down days happened to coincide, yet it had happened before, this just happened to be the first since they got Jason, he swallow back concern over leaving Tristan with Jason, he knew Tristan wouldn’t hurt the boy but he should be there, they had a routine.

“Please don't leave me.” Aurora pleaded curling up at his side.

Elijah hums when he feels those words trying to crawl up his own throat, part of him screaming he should be better, he should be strong for her, help her, fix things.

He really should know some things are just unfixable, by now, a thousand years and he's noticed his own habit of making things worse in the pursuit of helping. Klaus' insecurities made worse by Elijah's indulgence to make up for failing to first protect him from father, Kol’s angry at him for siding with Klaus, Tristan's control issues magnified by him stripping it all from him at least Aurora’s problems were not caused by him.

“My mind’s a demon.” she tells him breathing the words into his collar bones.

“And mine’s broken.” he replies into her hair.

If it wasn't he wouldn't have jumped into Finn's offer, would have thought more about who else would die beside him. He knew Klaus, Kol and Rebekah would want to live and yet he hadn’t tried to warn them or help, he had handed his blood over and waited.

Neither of them move until hours later as a knock comes at the door a moment before it’s opened by a careful Jason followed by Tristan carrying a tray behind him.

“Papa and I made soup for you to get better.” Jason explains softly as he approaches them.

“Oh! Thank you baby.” Aurora calls, giving him a flawless smile as she pats the bed beside her.

Elijah tries to shut down the whispers in his mind judging him for failing to put up a mask as well as her for Jason. He couldn’t force himself to get better, the least he could do was not let himself get worse.

The bowl is warm on his lap and he leans against Tristan when the man sits on the bed beside him.

“It’s not as good as daddy’s, cause it came from a tin but we put lots of special ingredients into it.” Jason tells them brightly looking between them.

“Blood?” Aurora asks,

“No, love.” Jason corrects her by suddenly looking at him,”right daddy?”

Elijah smiled at him, it’s a little slower to come and stiff but Jason beamed back and for a moment, a little of the weight crushing him lifted.

[pickledpascal]

The Missing Link

Chapter Four: Hindenburg

Warnings: Panic attack, Miles Bron is closeted (?), some swearing.

Word Count: 7.4k

The Missing Link Masterlist

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Out of all the people Detective Blanc expected to arrive at the dock earlier that day, Ezra Wayne and his daughter were not one of them. Birdie Jay, why wouldn't he? She was the problematic fashionista who was clinging onto relevancy by trying to come up with something new and revolutionary every few years. Duke Cody was a men's rights activist, pleading for his audience to trust everything he said. And they did, not thinking to make at least one Google search to check if he was telling the truth or not. Claire Debella and Lionel Toussaint were similar in that much of their money to do their work was provided by Miles, in turn they'd basically support everything he did.

Ezra Wayne was the outlier. 

Why would he come all the way to Greece to meet an old friend who he was very vocal about not liking anymore? He didn't owe anything to Miles as far as Blanc knew. Ezra started his acting career from nothing. No help or reassurance was given to him by any of his past friends.

He knew this because of some of the interviews he'd seen. It was safe to say Benoit was a fan. Who wouldn't think the tall, dark, and handsome man wasn't the best looking in all of Hollywood anyway? He was also a great actor too, starring in anything from a silly rom com to the scariest of horror movies. Blanc liked versatility in his men.

Seeing Ezra in person was certainly something. His gray's were much more prominent than in the movies, showing his age. Maybe he hadn't gotten around to re-dyeing it yet. Then there was the part where Birdie deadnamed him. Ezra didn't seem that bothered, just annoyed. 

When he got his chance, Blanc smiled kindly as Ezra turned to him. "I must say, I absolutely love your films! I've seen almost all of 'em, you're amazin' in every single one." He was nervous but he needed to get that out as he looked Ezra up and down. It felt like he was a teenager again, talking to the most attractive boy at school. Ezra always looked absolutely beautiful on screen but it didn't compare to seeing him in real life.

Once on the boat, Benoit wanted to get an inkling to each person's personality. It just so happened that he was walking into the boat to talk with Lionel when Elle waved him over. It was hard to say no, especially with such a beautiful man in the room. But nerves, they were never something Benoit got over easily. He was a relatively calm person, even after the sheer amount of dangerous cases he's been through that would send any sane person running. Who takes on the mysterious case of the death of the mystery novel writer? Apparently, Benoit Blanc does. When Benoit did get nervous, though, they didn't leave as swiftly as he would hope.

After all, meeting your celebrity crush and escaping a near death experience are two completely different things. Although, they might meet on this isolated island.

Conversation with the father-daughter duo was certainly interesting and insinuated something Benoit wasn’t sure he wanted to admit. As much as he wanted to focus on the matter at hand, it was hard with someone as determined as Elle to make both himself and Ezra a blubbering mess. 

Benoit pursed his lips, he might as well use this time to try and eliminate Ezra from his suspect list. Or try to. “Y’know, Ezra, you and your daughter seem to be out of place among all these…. Eccentric personalities. For an actor, it’s strange of me to admit such a thing.” It was peculiar that Ezra was here. If he wasn’t the murderer–which would be horrible for Benoit–-then why was he here?

“I like to think it’s because I grew up poor and didn’t compromise myself or leech off of others in order to get rich and famous.” The brunette explained with a hum. Benoit nodded at Ezra and looked down at his hands.

The others happened to grow up in middle class families, besides Birdie–she was the daughter of a famous model, making her famous even before she was born. And Lionel, a little different too. He intimately worked with Miles, being employed by him for the sake of doing what he always wanted to do. Only for the sake of science of course. 

—------

Now, Benoit did not know of Ezra before his transition but the actor was always open about that time, sharing photos of himself and even his deadname but Benoit didn’t think it was that difficult to call Ezra by the name he goes by now. Apparently it was very hard for Miles. 

“Liz-Ezra…. You look amazing. Great, actually. I’m glad you’re here.” Miles’ eyebrows furrowed as he corrected himself. Benoit observed him as he walked the length of the glass dock. It seemed Miles was blushing a little but it didn’t look like embarrassment.

Huh, interesting…. Oh.

Oh.

Well, it’s reassuring that Benoit isn’t the only one attracted to Ezra. He glanced at Helen who stared at Miles. His main objective was to get her some answers, he needed to focus on that. If he happened to get a boyfriend out of this case, well, that would be nice. Benoit closed his eyes for a moment to get his head in the right mindset, fixing his sunglasses.

“Can we just take a second and fully inbreathiate this moment together?” Miles said with a gentle smile. Benoit pursed his lips and cocked his eyebrow, he ignored it but something inside him was saying that he needed to remember that for later.

Benoit was quiet as the tour started, mostly hanging around Helen to give her some semblance of comfort. Someone here killed her sister so he didn’t blame her if she was tense and weary of everyone, even if some of them seemed too dense to commit a murder. 

“Get settled in! Change. Let’s meet up at the pool.” Miles told everyone with a happy smile. “We’ll have a chill afternoon and then the game begins!” He announced, letting everyone fiddle with the bracelets around their wrists to find their room. As expected, Miles requested Benoit come with him for a private chat.

—-------

The pool seemed to be calmer but that meant it was time for Benoit to start gathering some information, among other things. He looked around the rectangular pool, catching sight of Birdie and Claire on the pool chairs off to the side while Miles was playing a tune on the guitar. He made his way over the Miles and grabbed one of the drinks inside the cooler. 

“Oh! Baby Blue!” Benoit exclaimed, a light smile on his face as he twisted the cap open and took a drink. His nose wrinkled slightly at the taste. It was like Jared Leto somehow bottled how he smelled. Benoit had never met him before but that’s what he imagined he’d smell like.

Duke took a sip of his drink, “Yeah. Miles, you remember when you almost pancaked me outside Andi’s–”

“Anderson Cooper’s birthday party? Yeah, Coop's parties are memorable.” Miles laughed with an almost nervous smile as he grabbed a bottle as well.

Benoit stood from his crouching position and looked over at Ezra and Elle. They were talking with each other. No one seemed to want to talk to them. Peculiar, with such a close-knit group like this. He made his way over to the pair and sat at the other pool chair next to Ezra. “Have you always been…. The outcast in a group like this?” He asked, careful but still blunt.

“Eh, kinda.” Ezra lowered his sunglasses so they covered his eyes, the sides of his lips were tense. “I was the only one who wanted a job in the performing arts and then I told them I was also trangender, kinda put the nail in the coffin.”

“Hmm.” Benoit nodded, catching a glimpse of the scars ever so slightly showing from underneath the half-open shirt on Ezra’s shoulders. “You look…. Great.” He said with a light smile, knowing his face must be some shade of red. He assumed crimson. It didn’t take the detective much to get him a blushing mess. It just depended on the person and if they had the means to.

Ezra let out a small laugh at the compliment. “Thanks, Detective. I could say the same for you.” Benoit bit the inside of his cheek. Was he flirting with him? Holy shit. “I mean, I would be very proud of myself if I was the most attractive detective alive.” Ezra shrugged.

Benoit let out a flattered laugh, feeling as if he was a boy again. “Some might say you’re the most attractive actor alive.” It was weak, but it was all he could come up with. It was like his brain was short-circuiting. Only for a second.

—------

After the little stunt at the pool, Helen and Benoit met in the gym as it seemed no one was using it or was going to use it in the short time they were there. Of course, that led to Benoit snooping around the compound to eventually find Duke watching Miles and Whiskey…. Doing their thing in front of a window. Honestly, though, how could Miles not see Duke. Weird. 

Helen got a little closer, wanting to hear what the pair was talking about behind the glass. Benoit pursed his lips, shaking his head at her. She was good but damn if she got caught, that'd be the end of their investigation.

—------

"My mom took me to Paris when I was six years old. First time I looked at this lady, it changed my life. You know Da Vinci invented a technique for brush strokes that leave no lines?" Miles gushed over the real Mona Lisa, the one in songs and meant to be the museum of art in France. Guess not these days. "That's how you can look straight at her and her expression changes every time. Her smile's there, then it disappears. Is she happy? Is she sad? Is it something else?"

Benoit never was one to be interested in art, at least not high art like the Mona Lisa or any of Goya's paintings. He appreciated it, sure, just not one to dedicate his whole life to caring about them. It seemed Ezra was similar in that aspect, taking a sip from his glass with an unbothered look in his eyes. 

Helen kept staring at the painting, nodding. "It really is something." Benoit glanced up at the painting before he looked back at Miles.

Claire looked from Miles to the painting and narrowed her eyes. "Wait a minute, Miles. Why do you have the Mona Lisa in your living room?" Her tone was pointed, like she knew something the rest didn't. Or, that Claire knew Miles was gonna do something she didn't like.

Miles let out a breath, a cocky smile appearing on his lips. "In one week, I've invited world leaders and members of the press from all over to unveil the future." He said as he grabbed a crystal-like object from his pocket and showed it to everyone in the room. Most looked confused…. But Claire and Lionel…. "You know what this is?"

"You know damn well we do." Lionel gritted out, tapping at the lip of his glass. "What's going on, Miles?" 

Benoit raised his hand, letting out a strained laugh. "Uh, I don't." It seemed, neither did Ezra or his daughter who's attention was peaked at the crystallic object. They seemed to have felt the rise of tension in the room.

"Don't drop it." Miles threw it at Benoit who caught it with ease.

But Claire, she was concerned. "Oh my god!" Perhaps something would have happened if the little crystal touched the floor. They were all in trouble, then. 

Benoit looked at the crystal between his fingers, carefully staring at the grooves and small bubbles that seemed to be trapped inside.

"That's a new solid hydrogen fuel. It's incredibly powerful." Miles explained, "It's radically efficient. Zero carbon emissions, and it's derived from abundant seawater. I call it Klear, with a K." Because of course he did. "And at this event, we are going to announce 'Klear America.' Our affordable home power solution. Klear is going to be powering people's dreams, all over this country, by the end of this year."

Ezra shook his head, he may not have been a chemist or anything that had to do with the sciences but the looks Claire and Lionel had on their faces weren't hard to read. They were concerned, devastated even. 

Lionel slammed his glass down on one of the podiums, causing the glass on the Mona Lisa to lift back up. It was protecting itself, from what? It didn't know just yet. "No. No. Because I was clear with you. I told you I need two years minimum to test this stuff to see if it's safe or even viable. Claire and I are not gonna be responsible for putting something out in the world before it is tested. And–" He paused once Miles pointed up at the air around them.

"Shit." Ezra breathed. So much for being safe on this summer vacation. They were walking around in a ticking time bomb….

"Oh, no." Lionel realized as well, stepping back from Miles.

Miles nodded with a smirk, "Oh, yeah."

Benoit's eyebrows furrowed as he looked back at the small crystal in his hand. "You're running this entire place off this?"

"The whole Glass Onion is powered by Klear." Miles let out a light laugh. He was giddy, his dreamlike fuel was working. As far as he knew. "Come on, let's…. Let's eat!"

It was clear that both Lionel and Claire weren't sure they could trust Miles anymore. He was being reckless. More reckless than he usually was. Elle narrowed her eyes at Miles before she looked at Ezra who let out a light breath. Maybe they could get through this night and leave as soon as possible in the morning. Ezra didn't want to stay too much longer if the whole island was dangerous and he also didn't want to feel responsible if something were to happen to his daughter.

This was a huge mistake.

—----

Dinner was short-lived, Benoit solved Miles' "mystery" in just a few short seconds and Ezra had to refrain from the urge to laugh once he saw his defeated face. The pair went upstairs, leaving Ezra and Elle with everyone else who deemed it was time to get royally hammered after their weekend was ruined. 

Duke's notifications went off, causing the glass vault to go back up. "You know, you could just power it down." Lionel suggested to Duke. 

"Ah, it's my Google Alerts. Got them for all you guys." Duke explained, taking a sip from his glass. "Whiskey, sports I like, general interests."

Ezra rubbed Elle's back while she leaned on him. She was tired even though it was only 8:30 but he couldn't blame her. The whole day was filled with…. things out of the ordinary. Plus she found another father figure and half her time was spent getting him and Ezra together. Well, Elle's work seemed to be done. They may never see each other again after Ezra leaves tomorrow. It was sad, thinking about the future and the fact that each time Elle would look at a magazine with Benoit's solved cases on the front cover, she would ache for something that could have been.

Lionel was unimpressed as Duke's phone rang yet again. "You have a Google Alert for the word 'movie?'"

"I like movies!" Duke defended. "Don't hate. Nerd." Says the guy who started off on Twitch as a gamer. 

Ezra took a sip of his drink, looked at the red table in front of him. His eyes glazed over as he thought about what may happen after this. He'd be glad to go home, back to his normal life. Which was weird to think that being an actor everyone sought over was normal. But it was for him. Though, Elle knew differently. He longed for someone to be with, and if that someone just so happened to be Benoit Blanc…. Well, wouldn't that be nice?

Birdie let out a relieved sigh as she sat down on the couch, "Thank God for Benoit Blanc. We don't have to spend the weekend spelling hedges." She sipped her drink through her straw.

"Well, I'm outta her. Tomorrow morning. Gone." Duke stated, waving his hand.

Whiskey shook her head, "We just got here." She was on the floor. Ezra wasn't sure why or how she got there and he didn't really care either.

Duke mockingly whined like a baby. Elle's gaze hardened at him, she could treat Whiskey much better than him. If only she could let him go and leave him, Duke didn't deserve her. Not to mention, Duke was at least twenty years older than Whiskey. "You can stay. Have fun."

"Fine. You're murdering my vibe." Whiskey grabbed the bottle of tequila next to her and stood up, walking outside.

Birdie whined, "No! Miserable in paradise. We've all earned this."

Andi walked towards the group, "Yes, you have." She seemed more tense than before. Perhaps she was gonna blow up again.

Ezra helped Elle stand from her place on the couch and retreated outside with her by his side. He didn't want to hear whatever argument that was going to happen. It would have been entertaining but Ezra's brain was close to shutting off. And if Elle was anything like her father, he knew it was the same for her.

Soon, Andi was leaving too. She stopped to say a few words to Whiskey then made her way to Ezra. 

"You-you are the only good one. And I don't blame you for leaving all those years ago." She said before running off. 

Ezra cocked his head somewhat confused while Elle looked off into the distance, admiring how the moonlight danced with the water. Whatever happened in there, must've been enough to set her off. Not that Ezra blamed Andi at all. After everything that's happened between her and Miles and suddenly she's cut out of the company. Ezra didn't know many details about why but he assumed it was because of something big…. 

His eyes widened, shaking his head a little. He was being dumb. It was because of that Klear stuff, wasn't it? Andi knew it was dangerous and didn't want Miles to be distributing across the entire country. No wonder….

—-----

Well, they certainly picked the wrong time to make their way back inside. Duke looked as if he was choking, falling down on one of the coffee tables until his harbored breaths were silenced. He died. Right in front of their eyes. Ezra immediately shielded Elle's eyes, holding her tight to his chest while Benoit inspected his body. 

"I'm afraid Mr. Cody is…. Is dead." Benoit said as he looked up at Claire. There was a certain sense of bewilderment in his eyes. He's seen plenty of deaths before, it was a part of his job, but none quite like Duke's.

Birdie started to scream while Whiskey cried, "No, Duke! No!" 

The rest of the conversation seemed to buzz in Ezra's ears. Someone killed Duke. That much was obvious. The question was who? And, well, there were only a select few on the island.

"Fuck." Ezra cursed under his breath, loosening his grip on Elle. "We have to get the fuck out of here." He ran a hand through his hair.

Sure, Claire could see the headlines but Ezra could see them too. He was an actor, a transgender one at that so criticism was something he was used to. But this…. This would be a whole new level. Ezra hated red-pill "truthers," so being on an island with one who just so happened to die would automatically blacklist him. Progressives in Hollywood wouldn't cast him anymore and the conservatives didn't cast him at all because he was trans. 

"My dear, hey, you're gonna be alright." Benoit told Elle softly, wrapping his arms around her for a moment while she sniffled softly.

Even if Duke was an asshole and a bitch, witnessing his death wasn't something Elle was particularly fond of. Sure, he might have deserved it with the harm he caused on little boys minds but…. This…. This was different. It would haunt Elle for the rest of her life, she was sure. 

"Boat can't come till low tide in the morning. Six am at the earliest." Lionel announced as he walked back.

Benoit patted Elle's shoulder for a moment before he looked at Lionel. "Do they understand the situation?" He asked with a frown.

"There is no other landing point, and Miles' dumbass Banksy dock was set to low-tide height and it isn't buoyant. It is a piece of shit." Lionel explained, tone very reasonably pointed at the man who decided to have said dock. 

Ezra wrapped a blanket around Elle's shoulders, knowing that sometimes she needed the weight to feel normal again. This certainly wouldn't help all the things going on inside her brain. And, holy shit, was Miles saying someone was trying to kill him and not Duke? Well, then they royally fucked up. Poison in the person's drink was rather cliché wasn't it? And clumsy because shit like this could happen. You could mix up the drinks and accidentally have given it to the wrong person. 

Hm, maybe Ezra could be the new Harlan Thrombey…. Without all the parts of suicide and…. Well, Benoit Blanc appeared in Ezra's life too. Maybe that was a sign.

"Forget about his phone. Look." Lionel pointed at Duke's holster…. Which was missing the gun. The gun that Duke was famous for always keeping with him.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck…." Ezra ran a hand through his hair, squeezing Elle's shoulder to comfort her. Now someone was roaming around the island with a goddamned gun. So much for a little light hearted fun. 

Elle shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. "I can't believe this is happening." Her lungs were screaming for air, her esophagus closing up. "D-Dad…." She said weakly. She could feel her heartbeat going faster and faster. She couldn't breathe. 

She was having a panic attack.

Ezra's eyes widened. He knew these signs. He didn't care about what was happening behind him, he needed to focus on his daughter. "I'm right here, Elle, c'mon look at me, okay?" He tilted Elle's head towards him as he wrapped his arms around her. "Take a few big breaths, honey. I'm here for you, whatever you need, okay?" Ezra squeezed her tight, not missing the concerned look Benoit had for her. But it was like he knew Ezra would help her through it. 

"Blanc, you have to help me. Help me! Help me!" Miles yelled right before Benoit slapped him across the face.

Benoit shouted, "What happens at ten o'clock!" 

As soon as those words left his mouth, all the lights powered down. They were showered in darkness, the only light that didn't turn off was the lighthouse just outside. It rotated, causing only a sliver of light to run through the house. 

Against Benoit's wishes, no one stayed in the living room. Well, besides Elle and Ezra. Weirdly, the light seemed to help Elle out of her panic attack. Her heart was still beating fast but she could breathe again which helped marginally.

"Alright, that's good, sweetheart." Ezra said calmly, cupping her cheek softly as he wrapped a blanket around her. "I'll grab you some water, okay. Stay here." Turning on the flashlight from his phone, he found his way to the kitchen and grabbed a glass to fill it with water. Once he was back in the living room, Elle took it gratefully and downed it. Her throat was feeling better, less dry than before. "There we go." Ezra kissed the top of her head. "I love you, kiddo."

Elle buried her face in Ezra's chest, letting a few tears flow. "I love you too, Dad. So much."

—-----

"Who?" Claire asked, that's the thing all of them were thinking but it seemed only Benoit had the answers.

Benoit, looking off to the side for a moment, smacked his lips. "Well, I keep returning, in my mind, to the Glass Onion." Ezra cocked an eyebrow at him. He's heard of the weird ways Benoit had explained the truth of a case but…. What did the Glass Onion have to do with any of this? "Something that seems densely layered, mysterious and inscrutable. But in fact, the center is in plain sight. And that is why this case has confounded me like no other." Benoit gently rubbed Elle's arm before walking the length of the living room.

"Why, every complex layer peeled back has revealed another layer and another layer and come to naught." Benoit looked around at the room, at the different people standing in front of him as his eyes narrowed momentarily. "And that was the problem, right there. You see, I expected complexity. I expected intelligence. I expected a puzzle, a game." Where was he going with this? Ezra kept Elle close, not knowing if they were in a room with a murderer or not. "But that's not what any of this is. It hides. Not behind complexity, but behind mind-numbing obvious clarity. Truth is, it doesn't hide at all."

Ezra looked around the room. Who would be the most obvious choice to murder both Andi and Duke? He could think of many reasons why all of them would want to kill Andi but Duke? He was dumb, he had no ill intentions. At least, not to them. To the greater public? Probably. 

"I was staring right at it." Benoit sighed, feeling somewhat dumb for not assuming it at first. "The killer nearly struck my Achilles' heel. But thank high heaven, at the last moment, I realized what had teased my brain through this entire case… "inbreathiate." It's not a word." Benoit shook his head, glancing at Ezra for a moment. 

It seemed obvious he would start to catch on out of all of them. Not to say that Whiskey wasn't smart or the rest weren't but they all believed Miles and how "smart" he portrays himself to be. Ezra, on the other hand, does not. 

Lionel shook his head for a second, not getting how this related to anything. "What?" 

"'Inbreathiate.'" Ezra repeated. "It's not a real word, it just sounds like one but it's…. Made up. Like something a kid would say to sound smart." He explained, blinking a little as the pieces started to fall into place. 

"Precisely." Benoit nodded, "And "reclamation," that is a word. But it's the wrong word." His eyebrows furrowed for a moment, sighing. "This entire day… A veritable minefield of malapropisms and factual errors." Now, Ezra would be lying if he said he knew any of the words Benoit used in that single sentence but he was sure the detective was using them correctly. After all, Benoit had this way of speaking that felt like he would be more at home in the 40s or 50s if he should ever set foot in that time period.

Benoit turned and pointed out the window. "That is the Aegean Sea." Right…. Miles said the Ionian Sea. But if what Benoit was starting to say was true then… It was Miles all along. But he couldn't, right? Miles was too dumb to pull off a murder. 

"Oh, yeah. It is, it is." Claire said, not understanding what Benoit was trying to explain.

"His dick doesn't float. His wonder-fuel is a disaster. His grasp of disruption theory is remedial at best." Aw, and just when Ezra was going to turn to the dark side. Yeah…. No. "He didn't design the puzzle boxes. He didn't write the mystery. Et voilà. It all adds up. The key to this entire case. And it was staring at me right in the face." Benoit then clarified, clicking his tongue as turned back the group. "Like everyone in the world, I assumed Miles Bron was a complicated genius."

Ezra chuckled, shaking his head. "First mistake, Detective." He shrugged. Miles couldn't come up with his own idea if it saved a million lives. 

Ezra knew that and he warned Andi against partnering with Miles… but she didn't listen. And that's why he left. Sure, the transphobia was part of it but he couldn't bear to watch Andi throw away all her ideas and let Miles get all the credit. Alpha was hers, never Miles'. He just so happened to run into Andi and she took him along for the ride. 

Benoit glanced at Ezra, a slightly amused look in his eye. "Look into the clear center of this Glass Onion… Miles Bron is an idiot."

Whiskey covered her lips, a little shocked Benoit would say such a thing. Miles' jaw tensed, "Oh, please." He grumbled, shaking his head as he crossed his arms. "Just tell us who tried to kill me."

"No one tried to kill you, you vainglorious buffoon." Benoit countered, shoving his hands in his pockets. If Miles was the murderer, Benoit certainly did not seem scared when he insulted him to his face.

Miles exclaimed, growing frustrated and not in the way that would make him seem innocent. "Duke took my glass!" He wouldn't make a great actor, Ezra could see all his tells easily.

Keeping his composure, Benoit looked at Miles unpressed. "That's what you told us he did. He must've picked it up by mistake, you told us, right after it happened." Ezra cocked his head slightly as he started to remember. It was right in front of them. Miles couldn't be that dumb? To attempt murder right before their eyes. "Ignore his lies, everyone, and think clearly now! What did we all actually see?"

"Y-You handed Duke your own glass. In front of us! And you lied. Made us think you didn't." Ezra said, letting go of Elle once it seemed she was alright. "I must admit I'm not sad that he's dead but…. You traumatized my kid for life.

"Blanc, Ezra… you're telling us Miles killed Duke?" Lionel asked in disbelief. 

Benoit nodded, "Yes."

"Why?"

"Because the night Andi sent you all the emails, when Duke got to Andi's house early on his motorcycle he saw Miles leaving. Was almost struck by him." Benoit explained, Ezra wasn't following this time. What email? "In fact, he told all of us. Right in the open, he told us. That night, at Andi's." 

Claire nodded, rubbing her chin slightly. "That night…. Duke told us he almost got in an accident. He… pancaked?" She realized.

"Okay yeah, but Miles had been living in Greece the past six months." Lionel said. He couldn't accept the fact Miles would kill one of their closest friends. Even if Duke was…. Duke.

Benoit let out a light huff, a laugh almost. "No." It was clipped. "Whiskey." He made his way over to her. This piqued Elle's interest, what did all this have to do with her? "Miles saw you on your birthday in New York. Gave you that necklace for your birthday. You're a Taurus." He whispered.

"I am." Whiskey said in a light whisper as well before she realized, "Two weeks ago. May 9th."

Benoit shrugged as Peg ran back into the room. "Forget the hydrofuels, and the sweatshops, and the consensual cuckolding for cable news assignments." Cuckold? God, that had to be the first time he's ever said that for a case. It made Ezra snort out a laugh. 

"Sorry what?" Peg asked, face clear with confusion. 

"And focus! On the envelope." Benoit motioned with his hand to a staircase.

Everyone's heads turned at the staircase to reveal Andi descending from the steps. Birdie let out a shriek, while Claire yelled a few curses. Ezra, on the other hand, was utterly confused.

"Andi?" Lionel asked, appalled.

Ezra looked from Andi to Benoit, "What the fuck is going on?" She was dead not more than two minutes ago when he thought she was dead, the grief was just starting to set in until she came back.

"Who did the envelope threaten?" Benoit didn't expect Ezra to know, maybe he should have explained but it's not like Whiskey really would have known either. "Miles Bron." Almost as if Miles' mom just died in a house fire, his expression became sour and hardened. "That night, Lionel faxed Andi's email to Miles who received it in New York. The one thing that could destroy his empire of lies, the truth in the hands of the only person unafraid to tell it. So Miles drives his Baby Blue Porsche to the scene of the crime, and Andi let's him in." Benoit cocked his head at Miles, eyes narrowed.

Benoit never had any remorse unveiling the truth, especially with cases with such…. Shitheads. "Of course she did. Miles' machine of lawyers and power could destroy her through sheer dumb force. But Miles himself? Oh, she was clever enough not to fear Miles." If this was going where Ezra thought this was going… then who was the woman that looked exactly like Andi? "But she didn't see the real threat, the obvious threat until it was too late. Duke alone knew you were there that night, but he didn't know Andi was dead." 

Ezra ran a hand down his forehead. Wait… Andi had mentioned she had a sister to him, maybe a few times just when families were brought up in conversation. She didn't happen to say her sister was twin but… What else could this be? The actor looked up at the "imposter"—if he could really call her that–and realized. That had to be Helen.

"No, no, he didn't know that until this evening." Benoit continued as he pointed out, "Right here, when he got a Google Alert on his phone, which has now fallen strangely silent." He made his way around Miles and grabbed something from his pocket to reveal that Miles had Duke's phone ever since he died. Ezra was somewhat scared Benoit was feeling him up or something, thankfully it didn't seem Benoit had a kink for villains. "Which he showed to you… because you don't own a phone." 

"Did you really think you could stop all of them from finding out about Andi's death? They all have phones." The blonde made her way towards the group, her southern accent was thick.

"He didn't need to hide the death, he just needed to hide that Duke has shown him the death moments before he was killed." Benoit spun the tail a little further… Well, not so much spinning, more like weaving. Putting the pieces together so they could see the finished product more clearly. "Right out in the open, Duke showed him. And told him exactly what he wanted in return for his silence. So what does Miles do?" The Detective stepped away from the man in question.

The woman followed Benoit, "Does he keep a vial of poison in his tooth or something? Is that some rich person thing?" If it was, Ezra was in trouble. 

Benoit sighed, shaking his head in slight disappointment. "No, no, no, no, it's just… it's so much stupider than that. Birdie, what are the ingredients to your Cuban Breeze?" He asked.

Suddenly the attention was on her and it winded her for a moment. "Um, vodka, amaretto…."

"Oh, God." Whiskey gasped, raising her hands to her mouth as she realized. 

"And… pineapple juice." Birdie finished after a little while.

Benoit strained, slightly disgusted and appalled. "An allergy!" 

"He can't even have a drop." 

"Pineapple juice!" The detective exclaimed in frustration. "He just put pineapple juice in his whiskey! It's so dumb." He shook his head, raising a hand to his forehead to rub at it. It teased his brain in the worst way possible. 

Birdie, probably drunk, gasped in amazement. "It's so dumb, it's brilliant!" 

"No! It's just dumb!" Benoit exclaimed, rubbing a hand against his forehead.

Ezra didn't need to check as he went up to her while the rest went to check their phones, reading off the first article about Cassandra Brand. "You must be Helen Brand…" He said softly.

"You know Helen?" Claire asked. It seemed none of them knew who she was, or they didn't pay much attention when Andi told them about her.

Helen glanced from Claire to Ezra. "We met once. He was in Alabama for some movie and recognized me." She explained, fiddling with the red envelope in her hands as Miles realized… The person he just tried to kill wasn't Andi at all. But an entirely different character all together.

"And now we come to Helen's attempted murder. Which, I have to give you credit for, did have a sound foundation of thought." Benoit said, earning him a glare from Ezra. The actor could see it being a bad habit already, the detective praising a criminal for their creativity just because it tested him enough. But Ezra didn't mind if that was the worst thing about Benoit. "You realized the opportunity laid out in front of you. You have a house on a remote island, filled with desperate people, all of whom have a real-life reason to wish this woman harm. You–" Benoit paused suddenly, narrowing his eyes as he looked at Miles. Something started to become abundantly clear in his mind.

Benoit continued, somewhat weary, "Furthermore, you have a loaded gun conveniently within reach. And the lights had even been turned off." He let out a heavy sigh as he brought a hand to his forehead. "Heavens to…" Ezra didn't want to laugh but the sound escaped him anyways. Benoit may have described Ransom and Harlan in an older case as "drama mamas" but he wasn't exempt from that description either. "You dim-witted, brainless… jackass!" Elle jumped a little as she wrapped the blanket tighter around her form. 

"Your one murder, with any panache at all, and you stole the whole idea from me." It seemed he knew how it felt now. Andi got her ideas stolen by Miles for years, the napkin wasn't the only thing. They all knew that.

Lionel cocked his head, "And after all that, you…. You still kept the envelope? Didn't burn it or anything?" He asked. It could have been seen as a trophy of some sort but if someone–like Helen–were to discover he still had it then his empire would fall. 

"You recognize this?" Helen asked, almost smug as she took the napkin out of its packaging. "Andi's handwritin'. I got you, son of a bitch." Miles almost looked scared. 

Miles shook his head, "Oh, let's slow down there, sister. Okay? Because first, how could you ever prove that that's the original?" He countered. "She might have copied mine."

"No. The bar closed nine years ago, and hers has one thing that yours just doesn't." Helen pointed at something, Ezra couldn't see what since he was standing behind her. However, Ezra was prepared to jump Miles if Helen asked him to. 

Miles hummed, glancing over Helen's shoulder to meet Benoit's eyes. "Okay, but second…." He clicked on his light to set the napkin aflame. 

Benoit and Ezra ran over to Helen. "What the hell did he do?" Benoit exclaimed as he looked at the pile of ash that suddenly formed at Helen's feet. 

"He just burned it!" Helen gasped as Benoit squatted down to see it for himself.

"Burned what? I didn't see anything." Miles shrugged.

Ezra growled, "You are acting worse than a child! And I should know, I have one." Elle pouted, shaking her head. At least Ezra raised her right. Who knows what Miles' parents were like. 

"This will not stand." Benoit ground out, his jaw clenching. 

Miles chuckled, "Uh-huh. Well, did you see this proof, this smoking napkin, Blanc?" He asked with a knowing smile. They had no more evidence. Nothing that could prove Andi's death. "No. Did anybody?" The group casted their gaze downward, defeated and silent. They couldn't go against Miles, he had them in his pocket. "Okay, then wow! Wow! We got some big accusations flying around here. Except, everybody seems to have a very foggy recollection of what they actually saw–"

"Well, I did see you burn something." Ezra countered.

"And there's nothing but totally circumspective evidence." Miles continued, completely ignoring Ezra like he did most of the time a decade ago. "So, if this was just us playing my murder mystery game, which we should have been doing all weekend, then Blanc wins an iPad Pro this time." He joked softly. "But this is the real world. And in the real world you need more than a neat, little detective story. You need evidence. And you've got… nothing. Do you?"

Ezra looked from Benoit to Helen. He was right. You need evidence and you need witnesses. And if Ezra was going to be the only to side with Helen then the courts would never work out in her favor. Miles had the majority here. 

Benoit pursed his lips, a sad glaze rolling over his eyes. He hated losing in a game as serious as this. "He's right." He sighed, pursing his lips. "The contents of that envelope and his possession of it were our only physical evidence."

"Right." Miles pointed at him, clicking on his lighter yet again to fiddle with it. "Wanna take that to the cops? You wanna take that to the courts?" He laughed quietly, "Look, pick your poison. Anywhere you go, it's going to be your word against mine. How do you think that's gonna go?" 

Benoit took his jacket from the glass pedestal he hung it from and put it on as he walked across the room, ushering Ezra with him by setting a hand on his back.

Miles shrugged, clicking his tongue slightly. "I think it's gonna go about like it went for Andi."

"Jesus." Lionel whispered under his breath, glancing at Helen. He could have been good. But no. Lionel wasn't quite there yet. 

"And I do want to say, your sister was a complicated woman, but she meant the world to me." Miles pursed his lips, trying his best to sound sincere. But if it was sincere… would he have ever killed her? "And I'm so sorry for your loss." 

Dejected, Helen made her way over to Benoit. "Blanc. I need you to do something." Tears started to form at the edges of her eyes, threatening to fall. After all this work and… nothing. 

"I'm sorry, Helen." Benoit shook his head, eyebrows drawing together. "I gave you the truth. This is where my jurisdiction ends. I have to answer to the police, the courts, the system. There's nothing I can do." He took a quick breath as he grabbed the glass with 'Andi' written on it. "Except maybe… offer you some courage." Benoit handed Helen the glass. "And a reminder of why your sister walked away in the first place." He quickly handed her something else, Ezra could only imagine what it was. 

Benoit turned away, whispering to Ezra, "I suggest you and your daughter come with me." He said. It was a very serious tone and Ezra hadn't had the time to think it through much so he followed his instructions.

Ezra grabbed Elle by her arm and walked outside, following Benoit to the docks. He wondered why Benoit was in such a hurry to leave. Or maybe… not? He didn't seem that worried. 

But, well…. The entire Glass Onion blew up a few minutes later and Ezra would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy the fireworks. 

"Disruption." Benoit laughed as he took a drag from his cigar. 

"Fuckin' A." Derol laughed as well, his joint firmly between his lips as he lounged on a chair.

Ezra ran a hand through Elle's hair while a proud smile was on his lips. Helen sure knew how to shake things up, Ezra didn't mind though. Miles deserved to have his house blown up.

[alchemic-elric]

In reference to ( x )

⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ Cloud Fluff was fuckin' missing. It's been two god damn days and he hasn't shown his fuckin' face at all. This wasn't like him. This wasn't like him at all. Where was that stupid sonnavabitch?

The blond is racking his brain trying to think of what could have happened when the dumbass said he was only going to be out for a few hours. He didn't die, did he? No. He's immortal...but he's royalty and they gotta worry about like assassinations and shit like that right? Did he get abducted? Royalty has to worry about that bullshit too, don't they?

But seriously, who would want him? He's just going to set there and complain about Sunglasses and ramble on and on for hours until he finally gets hungry and whines for sugar. He doesn't know what the motive is here, but that sounds fuckin' annoying to him. Like Cloud Fluff is a good guy, but damn the fucker could talk.

And on that note, maybe that was all that this was. Fucker got so caught up in conversation that he stayed for dinner and spent the night. Really, he wouldn't put it past him. But it was a fucking problem now because that asshole has papa and all the other Mistericans in an uproar and it makes him wonder for a moment why Cloud Fluff didn't take along that Revon guy. He was supposed to be his guard, wasn't he?

He didn't know the details of the entire situation. Maybe he did. He didn't fucking know. All he knows is that spear boy is just about losing his fucking mind trying to figure out where Cloud Fluff ran off to. Sunglasses isn't here either. Both those fuckers have just up and gone missing. Maybe they're together. Who fuckin' knows? Woulda been fuckin'nice to get told though.

He's meandering his way through this palace (and damn he never thought he'd be living in one of these fuckers but Cloud Fluff insists) to find his brother because maybe he's been able to figure more out than he has because right now the elder of the Elric pair is coming up with a whole lotta nu'hin'.

"Yo." He sounds towards the (much to his dismay) taller blond causing a pair of nearly matching golden eyes to turn in his direction and face him. "You seen Cloud Fluff anywhere? Ev'rybody's freakin' the fuck out."

There is a frown pulled onto pale lips as the younger sighs for a moment and blond brows stitch themselves upward in half worry-half annoyance.

"No Brother, White Cloud has been missing for two days. No one knows where he is and he's made no contact since he left the other morning to check on sector 73. He said he'd only be gone a few hours but he needed to go speak with a few towns personally. He should have been back by now."

"Yeah well, all this worryin' he's got ev'rybody doin' is fuckin' dumb. 'e's bein' real heavy headed 'er whatev'r the hell 'e's always sayin' is. Ei'her way 'e's bein' a fuckin' idiot."

"Aren't you worried?"

"No." The elder replies plainly. "You know what that asshole can do just as well as I do. Fucker took down like god or some shit a few years ago. You really wanna fuck with that? You think anyone wants to fuck with that? Fuck. No. I don't and I don't think any sane mother fucker does either. Cloud Fluff is a nice guy and all but that bastard is a walking army. I don't think anyone is stupid enough to cross him."

Alphonse's arms cross over his chest and he frowns a little deeper as he thinks about it all for the moment.

"And we have the ability to manipulate basically anything with our bare hands and you know full well that people still mess with us being fully aware of this fact."

"---God Dammit Al. Are you trying to make me worry?"

"No. I'm trying to get you to see reason, because I know you like him quite a bit and I don't want you to either numb yourself to it and ignore it or panic yourself silly like Dad's doing. We need sharp minds to tackle this, so I think we should take a couple chocobos and investigate. We know he was in sector 73. So at least we know where to start asking questions."

The elder is groaning as he listens, mismatched arms crossed over his chest in half annoyance as he does.

"God I fucking hate it when you're right. Let's go. Everyone else is too busy losing their heads over this. Someone needs to find his dumbass."

"So it would be counterproductive if we lost ours. C'mon brother let's go."

[beinfriends]

Although Tazmily has fully recovered their memories and have had one to two full years (depending on when each villager in particular recovered their memories) to work through it, I think it's still really hard for a lot of them. The villagers are doing much better than they were at the initial point of remembering. Whether they allowed the memories to recover naturally or opted to recover them all in one sitting with the Egg of Light, it was extremely hard for people to cope with this rush of memories and all the trauma that came with it.

Even beyond escaping the end of the world and knowing that their families and friends are all dead, the world before Nowhere was a deeply broken one. A lot of Tazmilians probably had experienced some form of trauma even prior to the war breaking out and everything going to hell in a handbasket, and that was trauma they never got to process, let alone the fresher trauma of, again, losing everyone they knew and loved, save for if they made it with you to Nowhere-- and quite a few made it to the White Ship, but then perished there due to illness or injuries, leaving behind single family members to pick up the pieces upon reaching Nowhere.

The one solace the town generally had was knowing that everyone else was dealing with the same thing to some degree. They'd all faced similar traumas and losses, but there was a lot of shame attached to people, which made it harder for many to cope with. Tazmily isn't good at dealing with negative emotions, never was, though a lot of villagers have gotten better about it. But they came from a world that did not value human life at all, let alone someone as an individual, their thoughts, feelings, and desires; people didn't have the tools to process emotions all that well unless they were lucky enough to have a good family or good friends. Even then, it was hard.

So, returning to their horrible memories, ones they were never allowed to process-- or never allowed themselves to process-- was extremely hard. People could at least typically turn to their loved ones, usually spouses, but it wasn't easy to discuss. It still isn't for many of them. The only person people felt comfortable fully venting to most of the time was Leder. Leder was the one who remembered it all for them, and had promised to guide them through this process of recovering their memories. And he did, he kept his promise. Leder is someone who is so easy to talk to, and many turned to him for advice when they didn't know how to process the losses that were now fresh in their minds.

Leder kept a lot of people sane during that hard year. Eventually, the depression, rage, anxiety, guilt, and everything else started to fade. They returned to a more normal life as they finally were allowed to address what was there, to whatever degree that may be. But I think the trauma is going to be hard for them to deal with forever-- understandably so. That shit doesn't leave, especially because it's arguable that most, if not essentially everyone who came to Nowhere on the White Ship likely has some form of PTSD.

People have gotten back to normal, but have they fully processed? Can they think about people in their past without crying or having a meltdown about it? Is every memory not tinged with sadness and pain? I'm not so sure about that. Tazmily's trauma is a work in progress to this day. People try to live in the moment, they've accepted the horrible and strange way they all came together, but it won't ever be the same again. I think they're ultimately better off having learned, however. That is why Leder revealed the truth to them-- because he knew that it was necessary for Tazmily to grow and to learn from their past mistakes more fully.

It wouldn't solve things, but I feel like Tazmily needs one good day where they all allow themselves to speak openly what happened to them, to cry together, to commiserate and understand what connects them all. Tazmily, as Leder said, is the town many of them wished they could've grown up in. Many of them were born into some form of the cycle of abuse, and Tazmily was their ticket out, their one shot at removing that cycle.

A lot of people are uncomfortable reckoning with the sort of people they became during the Pigmask occupation. A lot of them came to cruelty easily, returning to the cycle of cruelty and hatred for the Other that Eagleland and other nations had. That same cruelty many of them had been the victims of. Tazmilians overwhelmingly worked hard to move past that and do better after the cataclysm, and those efforts genuinely paid off. People really, really tried to be better, and Tazmily became kinder again. But I can't imagine, having worked on yourself in that way, suddenly being reminded of the world you came from that acted just like you did, albeit on a much, much larger and harsher scale.

But it must hurt so much, knowing that you senselessly perpetuated the persecution that poisoned the world before. I don't know how many of the villagers have actually thought about that, but if some have-- I could see people like maybe Ollie, Abbot and Abbey, Paul and Lin, so on realizing that-- and being crushed. Even if they themselves had not directly been harsh, even if they only had allowed it to slide, it still hurts.

Recovering the memories of the past has reinvigorated people's need to break the cycles of cruelty, abuse, and hatred, though. I think all of these things can turn into something good, ultimately. Humanity is not inherently evil. The Tazmily villagers are not inherently bad, or cruel, nor are they doomed to be that way forever. They've already proven themselves to be people who can learn, and these hard lessons, the ones of the White Ship and the ones of the Pigmasks, will stay with them. But, God, it'll never be fully solved if people can't allow themselves to be vulnerable and to fully unpack everything they've gone through.

Tazmily is trying so, so hard. And that counts for a lot. They've done a lot of work already, but I don't think most of them have ever felt fully comfortable being vulnerable or open about everything they went through. There's so much potential love and understanding in Tazmily, if only they'd allow themselves to have that. One can only hope they can continue processing and reckoning with the aftermath of all that's happened, and for the better. I think that's deserved.