#important (to me at least) to show the fading flora as well the the ones coming into bloom

[foxsoulcourt]

Flora: January 26 2024

[gladerwolfstarkimagines]

Request: Imagine being Lin Beifong’s daughter and having a crush on Iroh II

Tags: @tincdraws

Growing up as the daughter of Lin Beifong metal and earth bending were your whole life. You learnt to earth bend by the time you could walk and your mother had you in training from a young age so you graduated from the earth bending school at the top of your class with your eyes firmly set on following in your mother’s footsteps whilst also trying to emulate your grandmother’s success. You had a sharp focus and nothing else really caught your attention. You had friends but training came first and dating seemed something superficial you could live without. Republic city was your life and you would never dream of leaving it but your mother had other ideas.

Your mother thought you needed more worldly experience before you joined the police force so she sent you to the fire nation to gain some training as an officer. She claimed the fire nation had some of the best officers in the world and that they would help you learn invaluable real-life experience. You did not agree and protested the whole thing. All your training had revolved around the needs of Republic City specifically and you couldn’t see how you’d learn anything new about how to protect your city by travelling all the way to fire nation but your mother refused to change her mind and that was that.

So you were shipped off to the fire nation fresh out of the academy. Your mother had spoken to Firelord Izumi and it was agreed you’d be staying at the palace so not only would you be unfamiliar with the environment, you’d be in a place where every small look, word or action had large consequences. You didn’t know much about the fire nation and couldn’t really recall the royal family. You were aware your grandmother was very close with the late Firelord Zuko but since then things had changed. Although your grandmother’s friends (mainly Katara) had tried to keep the group close it was hard with everyone scattered across the four nations and so with each generation the group had drifted further and further apart. You knew Firelord Izumi had a daughter older than you and a son around your age called Iroh. You recalled meeting Iroh when you were younger at some event in the south pole but couldn’t remember much more than a serious fire nation child. So you arrived on the steps of the palace utterly out of your depth determined to see these three months through so you could return to your beloved city. You were shown into the palace immediately, your belongings taken by maids who refused to let you carry them yourself as you were a royal guest. You weren’t used to finery so proceeded through the palace partly in awe and partly in utter confusion why someone needed this many paintings of old men everywhere. You were finally shown into a large room. “Ah you must be y/n Beifong” a voice called and you turned to see someone who looked vaguely familiar. You knew he wasn’t Firelord Zuko or Firelord Izumi’s husband as he was too young so figured by his royal outfit this was Izumi’s second child the prince. “Prince Iroh, it’s an honour to see you again” you said bowing and he chuckled “I bet you thought that would be a winning line with any fire nation citizen didn’t you? Because we’re still all obsessed with honour like we were centuries ago?” Iroh asked and you hesitated. “If I caused any offence...” you started but Iroh cut you off breaking out in a large smile “no I was only kidding, it is a winning line we are still obsessed with honour”. You watched as Iroh laughed at his own joke surprised, you didn’t expect the prince of the fire nation to be like this. You figured royalty lacked the ability or the clearance to have a sense of humour but apparently not. “So have I really not changed since we were eight?” Iroh asked and when you frowned he elaborated “you recognised me but the last time we met was just over ten years ago”. You paused “ow no I didn’t actually recognise you, you were young, dressed in fine clothes with royal hairpins, not to mention you’re in the palace...you had to be the prince”. “Good deductions officer” Iroh said saluting you before he grinned “i’m in training too”. That piqued your interest “really? for the fire nation army?”. He nodded “yep! I’m an officer but my hope is to be general one day and to fully earn it, rather than just get it because of who my family is...hopefully in a few years i’ll get there”. “I’m sure you will” you agreed and Iroh led you into a large dining room. “Are we dining alone?” you asked confused and Iroh smirked. “Why? Not pleased with me?” he asked and you rushed to assure him that wasn’t the case when he laughed again “I’m joking again y/n, I know my grandfather told you the whole family would be dining with you in his letter to your mother but he, my parents and sister were all called away to an urgent matter and asked me to fill in as we’re similar ages”. “Ow” you nodded “that makes sense...is everything okay?”. Iroh nodded “everything’s fine just boring fire nation stuff...so shall we?” he asked holding out his arm to you. You weren’t sure if this was appropriate so averted your eyes and only took his arm lightly. Iroh smirked at your caution and led you into the room.

The meal with Iroh was nice. He was friendly, hard-working and interesting. You soon got used to his humour and learnt not to take him too seriously. You hadn’t met many other people your age who shared your passion for a military career and found it was nice, a sentiment Iroh apparently shared. He enquired what you were doing the rest of the week and when you replied nothing as training didn’t start for another week he soon had several of your days planned out with fire nation sights to show you. Iroh seemed to understand you didn’t know much about the fire nation so planned to take you to all the important sites as well as areas relevant to the army to peak both your interests. You enjoyed the prince’s tours greatly and even when training did start you continued meeting with Iroh regularly. You liked his company and were surprised that didn’t fade the more time you spent with him, if anything it grew more and more. You thought he’d be a spoilt entitled prince but he was kind and considerate pleasantly surprising you.

You didn’t become aware that you liked Iroh as anything more until one of your friends at the academy pointed it out. Since starting training you were progressing well, you achieved high grades and were held in high esteem by your fellow recruits. You had made some friends and often trained with them after the academy retired for the day. After a long training session you were heading to the palace when one of your friends called out to you “hey y/n some of us were going into town to celebrate our class’s good progress, do you want to come?”. You smiled pleased they wanted you to come when you remembered you couldn’t go “I’d love to Shani but sorry I can’t I have plans”. “Of course you do” she smirked as your other friend Aizori grinned “is it with Iroh by any chance”. “Actually it is” you said frowning at their shared look “why?”. “Ow nothing just it’s not every day your friend is dating the crowned prince”. “Me and Iroh are not dating!” you cried “our families are old friends that’s all”. “Uh...hu, if that’s true then what are your plans together may we ask?”. “We’re attending a party at the palace”. “Together?” Shani asked and you blushed “yes but he only asked me because it’s a formal event that’s apparently really boring so he wanted a friend there, trust me we’re not dating”. “But how can you resist?” Aizori asked “I’ve only seen the prince a handful of times but he seems to get better looking every single time! How don’t you get lost in those golden eyes and that chiselled jaw? The royal family has some amazing genes not even a Beifong can resist”. You paused considering it. For you looks weren’t very important so you didn’t tend to notice them. You held work ethic and determination as much higher priorities and Iroh scored very highly in both but in looks...you honestly couldn’t say. “I’m not sure I’ve noticed” you admitted and the girls rolled their eyes not believing you.

When you arrived back at the palace your friend’s words were ringing in your head and when you next saw Iroh something felt different. You took note of his looks and were surprised by what you’d found. Iroh was attractive, very attractive, how had you missed that? You stared at Iroh wondering if his eyes had always been that bright? Was his jaw always that sharp? His hair that good regularly when he frowned “why are you staring at me?”. “Nothing” you cried and he paused before shrugging “Are you ready to go?” he asked “the party has already started” offering you his arm. You nodded and took it cautiously following Iroh into the ballroom.

You could see why Iroh had wanted to invite you, everyone in the room was at least 60 years old or some stiff nobel person from an ancient line of fire nation families. All they seemed to want to discuss was old family bloodlines, territories or ancient traditions. After your fifth boring ambush by some old fire nation man Iroh pointedly headed for the gardens. You frowned as he exited discreetly, closing the door behind him, and headed away from the hall. “Iroh I’m pretty sure the party is inside” you commented and Iroh grinned “I know but I can’t take another second in there so humour me? One lap of the gardens then we’ll head back, please? I know you haven’t seen them properly yet so how about a tour?” Iroh holding out his hand to you. You rolled your eyes but took his hand happily. 

Iroh led you around the gardens explaining the different flora to you and their history. “I spent so many parties hiding in here as a kid” he grinned “this place is so huge they couldn’t find me for hours”. You smiled at the thought “my mother would’ve killed me if I did that”. “Mine did” Iroh chuckled “but I’d honestly rather face her wrath than some boring commander who wants to lecture me about our family’s history and why it’s so important...they’re literally my own family and even I don’t care” Iroh cried making you smile. “I see why you escaped out here so often, I’m very grateful formal parties were not a part of my childhood”. Iroh smiled and went to comment when the smile was wiped from his face and he grabbed you, quickly pushing you behind a large fern. “Iroh what are you...”. “Shhh they’ve come for us” he hissed and you frowned when you heard a voice. “Prince Iroh?” a man you recognised as the palace coordinator called “Are you out here? You’re needed inside”. You smirked and Iroh rolled his eyes “they’re relentless”.  “Master Iroh if you’re out there please return to the ballroom, your mother’s orders”. There was silence and then the sound of the butler coming closer. Your eyes widened and Iroh put a hand over your mouth pushing you further into the bushes. “Prince Iroh?” a voice called literally right beside you and Iroh smirked as you grabbed his arm in surprise. You heard a sigh and the sound of the man retreating. When the footsteps died away Iroh dropped his hold on you and you both burst into laughter. “I thought we were going to be caught and then royally punished...literally” you added and Iroh smirked “I wouldn’t let them punish you, it’s not your fault I dragged you out here”. “True but I didn’t try hard to stop you”. “You did encourage me” Iroh nodded thinking “okay it’s all your fault”. You gaped laughing “I never said that! You are such a liar” you cried pushing him and Iroh laughed grabbing your arm “okay okay maybe we share the blame 50:50?”. “No way” you smiled and Iroh paused “60:40?”. “I think 90:10?” you said grinning and Iroh sighed “fine, i’ll take 10% of the blame”. You shook your head at how wonderfully infuriating he was and smiled at him fondly. Iroh grinned back and you realised suddenly how close his face was to yours. Iroh seemed to notice too, he glanced down at your lips and you panicked moving away from him suddenly. There was an awkward tension in the air and you broke it with a cough “so want to show me more of the gardens then?”. Iroh nodded “right this way my lady” the awkwardness gone and led you further into the garden.

When you were safely hidden from the ballroom Iroh stopped walking, explaining this was one of his favourite spots in the whole garden and you gratefully took a break sitting down. “I can’t believe you’ve already been here a month” Iroh commented and you nodded “I know only 2 more to go then my mandatory 3 months work experience is done”. Iroh frowned “mandatory...so you could stay longer if you wanted to?”. “Hypothetically” you agreed and Iroh hesitated “do you think you’d extend it? Hypothetically?”. You paused “I’m not sure, I have enjoyed the fire nation far more than I thought I would but I’ve always wanted to complete my training as quickly as possible, I hope to be chief of police one day and I’ll need many years of service for that...”. Iroh frowned “isn’t the youngest chief like 41?”. You nodded “yeah so i’ve got time I guess, maybe i’ll stay for longer...is this just so you have someone to skirt your royal duties with?”. Iroh laughed “maybe...I like you being here, it’s nice not being the only person under 30 in every room”. You smiled “well i’m glad my presence isn’t displeasing to you...you’ve been pleasant as well” you added blushing and Iroh grinned. “Wait did I make a Beifong blush? That’s like a legendary occurrence, this is amazing!”. “Stop it” you cried but Iroh wouldn’t let you turn away “no, this will go down in history, Beifong blushes are rarer than dragons so I’m soaking up every second”. For the second time that day Iroh stared at you closely and you blushed more under his gaze but this time you didn’t move away. Iroh continued gazing at you before he lightly moved his hand to your cheek “y/n...” he said softly leaning in closer when a figure appeared. “There you are!” a voice cried and you both jumped away from one another. Your jaw dropped when you realised who it was and you dropped into a bow “Firelord Izumi...i’m so sorry I didn’t see you approach”. “Rise child you did nothing wrong” she said warmly “my son on the other hand...” she trailed off glancing at Iroh who paled. “Hey mom” he frowned and she raised an eyebrow “really? That’s all you have to say? No apology or grovelling”. “Erm I’m sorry for ditching?” Iroh offered and Izumi sighed. “Y/n would you please excuse us, I want to have a word with my son”. “Of course” you agreed bowing and you rushed away.

Iroh returned not long after with his mother and told you he had to stay in the ballroom for the rest of the party. You agreed to stay with him and he smiled gratefully at you making you blush and look away rapidly. The night passed and neither you nor Iroh spoke about what happened in the garden. How he’d almost kissed you and how you were going to let him. You couldn’t believe your own recklessness. What good did you think would come out of kissing the prince of the fire nation? You were obviously not an appropriate match and so there was nothing to be encouraged there. You resolved to never find yourself in that situation again and decided to just stay as friends no matter how much you got along or how attractive he was. Getting involved with a fire nation prince was not responsible behaviour. So after that night you made sure to put distance between you and Iroh. You didn’t stop seeing him you just made sure to emphasise it was a friendship. You didn’t let yourself get caught up in him the way you had in the gardens and always kept a level head. Iroh never tried anything or mentioned that night either and you supposed he picked up on your not so subtle hints. You carried on as before but there was definitely an unmentioned barrier between you which you never let fade.

You left the fire nation 2 months later. You didn’t extend your stay as with your feelings for Iroh you didn’t think it would be wise. Iroh saw you off and hugged you tightly before you got onto the airship. “It’s been nice having you around Beifong, I’ll miss you”. Iroh’s words made you hesitate and you hugged him tighter. For that time in Iroh’s arms you imagined what would have happened if you’d kissed him in the gardens that night. Iroh didn’t strike you as someone who flitted from person to person taking what he wanted, you think if he wanted to kiss you he must have felt something for you too and perhaps would have suggested dating. You imagined all the things you’d have done together but as a couple and wondered if you’d made a mistake, maybe you should have just gone for it? But then reality set in. If you really wanted to be chief of police then you couldn’t have short relationships with high ranking members of the fire nation. Other candidates could use it to show you had compromised morals and there was no way it would be a long term relationship due to your lack of fire nation heritage. Sure the fire nation was pretty progressive but that didn’t really apply to royalty. They had thousand-year-old traditions to uphold that couldn’t be broken easily so Iroh was never a long term option for you. Therefore all logical signs said you’d done the correct thing not persuing something with him...so why did it feel so shit? You finally pulled away from Iroh and he noticed your expression. “What’s wrong?” he asked and you shook your head looking away “nothing i’ll just miss it here...promise you’ll keep in touch?”. “Cross my heart” Iroh smiled “you’re not someone I intend to let slip away, expect a visit every time I come to republic city”. You pushed away the rational voice in your mind telling you to keep a distance from him and smiled “you’ll always be welcome and I’m very much looking forward to it”. Iroh blushed “thank you y/n” and you nodded back, just looking at him in admiration before catching yourself. “I should go...” and Iroh nodded “safe travels” and with a final look you walked away.

2 years later

After your departure you and Iroh stayed in regular contact and your letters only halted when he was deployed by the military but the second we was out he would write and arrange to come visit you in Republic City. You still thought about him and your feelings for him regularly and every time you saw him you knew your crush hadn’t lessened. You loved Iroh’s visits and soon they became the thing you cherished most. You told yourself all of this was fine because you’d never act on your feelings but sometimes you wondered if Iroh felt something too? You’d catch him staring at you or he’d blush if you smiled at him in a certain way. The very idea of Iroh liking you made you very excited but you also knew it would only lead to heartache. He wouldn’t be allowed to settle down with someone outside the fire nation so it didn’t matter if he liked you too. So you settled for his friendship which was more than enough for you. When Iroh was posted in republic city when he became general you were thrilled and you only continued to grow closer.

However republic city wasn’t as peaceful. There had been multiple attacks on the city from Amon’s chi blockers to Vaatu’s take over and you and Iroh were constantly pushed into the fray. Multiple times you’d faced staggering odds and every single time you wondered if you should confess your feelings to Iroh in case the unthinkable happened but every time you chickened out. You and Iroh had been safe every time but there was only so much you could push your luck.  

You’d been wary of Kuvira’s take over of the earth kingdom from the very start. Your aunt Su Yin had told you all about her so you weren’t surprised when she set her sights on Republic City but that didn’t mean you weren’t terrified. The avatar and her friends informed you what you were facing and you weren’t sure how you could even think about facing a giant mecha suit with spirit cannons. Iroh shared your sentiment but as general of Republic City’s army he was forced by President Raiko to lead his troops out there. Watching Iroh take to the front line you were swept with the desire once again to be honest with him, to tell him how you felt before it was too late. You decided three was too many times to chance it and so decided to finally tell him how you felt. You made your way to the general’s tent and found Iroh with Korra discussing strategies. You greeted them both warmly before making your way to Iroh’s side “could we please talk? I have something to tell you”. You knew Iroh had a hundred things to do but he nodded warmly squeezing your hand “of course just give me one second to...” when the radio sprang into action. President Raiko had surendering to Kuvira’s demands. Republic City was hers.

The avatar was furious and you matched her sentiment. You and Iroh joined her as she met with other leaders in the city like Tenzin and your mother and they all agreed something had to be done to stop Kuvira. A plan was quickly assembled, it was agreed that airbenders would attack the suit from the sky and earth benders would attack from the ground. You didn’t actually expect to damage the suit, you only had to distract Kuvira long enough for Korra to get inside. You were agreeing fervently getting ready to leave with your cousins when Iroh grabbed your arm. “Wait Y/n are you sure you want to do this?” he asked nervously “that mecha suit is dangerous there’s no guarantee you’ll be able to stop it”. I know but it’s my home, I swore to protect it and I won’t break my oath. I have to try and help”. Iroh sighed thinking and you watched him wondering what he’d say. “I understand why you’re doing it and I want to come too”. You paused pleasantly surprised “You do...but I thought President Raiko told you to retreat and surrender?”. “He told me to surrender the army not that I couldn’t personally engage in fighting, i’m not fighting as a general but as plain old Iroh” he announced proudly and you smiled “there’s nothing plain about you even without your titles”. Iroh beamed at you “Does this mean you agree? We can fight this giant together!”. You nodded your head “okay let’s go meet up with the others”.

You and Iroh rushed after the others and found them all suiting up. “Finally” your mother said spotting you but she frowned when she saw Iroh with you “y/n tell me you didn’t bring the general who is also the prince of the fire nation into this”. “She didn’t, I volunteered” Iroh spoke up “I’m not here as a general or as a prince but as a civilian so, where can I help?”. “You know your mother won’t like this” Tenzin commented and Iroh nodded “I know but some things are worth facing her wrath for” he said shooting you a smile and you blushed.

So it was agreed Iroh would stay. Your mother thought it would be best to place him on the roof with the airbenders, she ordered him to shoot lightning at the joints to try and cause some malfunctioning. When you’d all suited up the teams said their goodbyes and Iroh appeared in front of you. You didn’t have long, Kuvira’s giant suit was already in view and the ground shook whenever it took a single step. Iroh stared at you and sighed heavily “Y/n...”. “Don’t say it like that, we don’t have time and we’re both going to be fine okay?” you said faking a smile but Iroh saw right through it. “What did you want to tell me earlier?”. You froze caught off guard and blushed “I...I just wanted to...it doesn’t matter”. The ground jumped and Iroh looked at it nervously before stepping closer to you “I think I can guess what you were going to say”. “You can?” you asked nervously and Iroh smiled “yeah...you had another Beifong blush moment and I’ve noticed you do them around me a lot”. You went bright red and Iroh chuckled “yeah like that...”. You looked down embarrassed but Iroh took your hand gently “don’t, I blush a lot around you too”. You smiled blushing more and Iroh chuckled softly. “Y/n are you ready?” your mom asked and Iroh gripped your hand tightly. “Wait I want to tell you everything before you leave” Iroh cried but you squeezed his hand gently. “It’ll be okay” you smiled “you can tell me everything later and I think I can guess too”. Iroh grinned blushing “later then...just got to get through this”. “We’ll be fine, this is what he trained for” you smiled confidently “I promise I’ll see you on the other side”. Iroh nodded and stared at your lips, he went to move in when your mother called “y/n are you coming or are we leaving you behind”. “I’m coming!” you yelled and stepped away from Iroh “mothers” you commented and he smiled “go, i’ll see you after” and with a last look you both rushed off to your assigned group.

The battle

The fight went about as good as could be expected. The suit swatted the air benders away like flies and your group’s earth, metal and even lava bending barely slowed it down. But it didn’t matter, all that mattered was the avatar and her team managed to find a way into that thing and your team cheered when you saw she’d done just that. Now the fight was Korra’s so you let your guard down when suddenly the machine began malfunctioning. Your mother yelled for you all to take cover but you were too far away from the building. The suit exploded with a blast and you saw a blinding light and then black.

After the suit exploded everyone assumed the battle won. Half the air benders went after Korra to help her with Kuvira and the other half went to the ground to make sure the others were okay, of course Iroh went with the latter. He saw Bolin, your aunt and cousins but no sign of you or your mother. They told him they were all searching for you and he rushed to join in. With each street he passed his heart began to sink when finally he spotted you! In the arms of your mother unconscious. Iroh ran forward dropping to his knees beside you. “What happened?” he cried and your mother clutched you desperately “that thing exploded and she was too far to get into cover, it hit her sending her flying through the street and now she’s...she’s...”. Iroh saw the blood seeping through your mother’s hands where she held them against you. “No” he said viciously “y/n won’t...she can’t! We need a medic” he yelled loudly before taking off his jacket to wrap around your wound. “Maybe I can cauterise the wound?” he asked “seal it to stop her losing so much blood?”. Lin paused “I think the wounds too big but it’s worth a shot”. Iroh nodded and Lin lifted the bottom of your uniform. Iroh saw a large gash across your stomach and winced. He lit his hand on fire and pressed his hands against the wound. You gasped suddenly and your eyes shot open. “Y/n” your mother and Iroh cried in unison and you blinked trying to make sense of the situation before you groaned in pain. You tensed trying to get away from the burning but your mother held onto you “please y/n just hang on Iroh is trying to cauterise your wound”. “It’s not working” you grimaced resisting the urge to scream “Iroh stop! Please!” you cried and he yelled in frustration moving his hands away from you. “No it has to work if it doesn’t then you’ll.....we need a medic down here” he yelled again but he knew everyone else was spread out and there were no healers in the group. “It’s okay” you said breathing heavily as the situation dawned on you “Iroh it’s alright”. “No it’s not” he cried sinking onto his knees beside you “it’s not y/n, you can’t...you have to fight this, you can’t leave me”. You nodded “trust me i’m trying but Iroh if I do...”. “No y/n don’t even think about it! I won’t let you go it’s not going to happen”. “I don’t think we have a choice” you admitted trying to smile but Iroh just shook his head “but we never got our shot, we never got to talk, I never got to tell you...I love you y/n” he said simply “I have for years, that’s why I never found anyone from the fire nation because the perfect person for me is you. I know there’s traditions and rules but I don’t care, I don’t want anyone else but you. I’d give up anything for you and we were finally heading in that direction and now that stupid spirit cannon”. Tears leaked down Iroh’s face and you reached out a hand to him shakily. He took it and you stroked his face “it’s okay, i’m sorry for being too scared and cautious, I’m sorry for wasting our time together but I love you too, I hope that’s enough”. Iroh nodded “It’s more than I ever hoped, you didn’t waste time you have nothing to be sorry for y/n Beifong, do you hear me?”. “I do” you smiled before coughing in pain and your mother clutched you tighter. “Y/n” your mother cried and you smiled up at her “it’s okay mom, don’t worry. It’s all going to be okay”. You clutched her hand against your chest and took Iroh’s other one. “I’m with the two people I love the most, I’m happy. This is the best way for it to...”. “Stop” Iroh said crying but you just gripped his hand tighter “Iroh look at me”. He blinked through the tears but looked at you. “It’s okay, I promise you everything will be okay”. Iroh just said your name softly and rested his head against yours. Your mother wrapped her arms around both of you and you held onto both of them the best you could when you felt the world fading away. You heard sobbing and your mother faintly saying your name until everything turned dark and it was over.

Epilogue

Following your death the fire nation, earth kingdom and republic city all paid their respects in their traditional fashions. A statue was raised by your mother in the spot of your death and every year on the anniversary of your death both her and Iroh would visit it. Iroh and your mother supported one another following your death being the only one’s who understood how monumental the loss of your life was. They managed to get through it together and although neither of them ever stopped loving you they found a way to carry on. Iroh never married, he couldn’t even consider the idea and his family never pushed him to. He still lived a long and happy life. He was very involved with his sister’s children who he loved dearly and his family never stopped supporting him. If he went quiet and got a teary look in his eye or if he struggled serving in the earth kingdom they understood. Your family also treated him like one of their own, with Lin even calling him her son on a few occasions, and he was invited to all your family’s events in recognition of your love for him. Your memory never faded and when Iroh’s life eventually ended he passed on to find you waiting for him. He knew all the suffering and heartache was over, you were finally together at last. 

____

So initially I was going to write a happy ending as well but then I thought screw it, I want to cry so I killed off the reader...but I can release the happy ending as a part two if anyone wants it. 

Edit: For the happy ending version click here

[fenheart87]

Flowerful Language

KuraHi fluff... Subtle flower language to show affection, the idea was based off three things: white rose meaning young love and loyalty and two roses together meaning feelings returned.

Kurama was distracted from his studies by gentle fingers combing through his hair. Being touched by the owner of said hand wasn’t something new, just the context and type of touch. The redhead had not recently injured himself on his cranium nor anywhere else. Despite his brain being puzzled, his body remained curiously relaxed as he sat leaning against his bed and that was all the more puzzling. When had the smaller demon moved to his bed?

“Hiei?”

“Hn?”

“Is there something in my hair?” Kurama joked, not yet pulling away to look at the fire demon and break the soothing and gentle touch.

“You always have something in your hair fox.” The almost soft amused quality coloring the words had the taller moving away to glance at the speaker. Red irises were partially concealed by heavy lids, an arm tucked underneath his head as support. Hiei was completely at ease laying in his bed and Kurama suddenly couldn’t remember how to breathe.

“I supposed yes… Was there something you needed?”

“Hn, still wasting all those years of knowledge I see.” With huff and slight curl to his lips that the kitsune was certainly not distracted by, the shorter demon rose stood. Lifting his arms in a stretch before donning his cloak, boots and sword. “I do have an appointment to keep Fox, hopefully the storm will keep at bay while I’m gone.”

“If not, you know my window is always open for you.” He had abandoned his reading and carelessly shut the book without saving the page, the move seemed to bring amusement to other occupant once more.

“If only there were something more convenient that was open to me.” Opening the window Hiei hopped onto the sill, pausing for a moment and casting a long searching look into curious green eyes. “Perhaps one day when the kudzu is finally worn out its welcome there will be a hidden entrance elsewhere.”

Kurama sat alone in his room, the strange conversation and actions turning within his mind and the answer just out of reach. Collecting himself and shifting everything to the side for a moment, the human side of his brain was pushed to the back. If Hiei’s comments about his age and the kudzu vines were any indication he needed to think like a demon, like Youko. Hiei has referenced his life as the King of Thieves, knowledge gained during his reign would be mostly stealing something. Convenience could be a number of things, again leading to stealing something or maybe something else. The fire demon's mention of kudzu was interesting. If Kurama recalled correctly it was an invasive group of vines that strangled the plant flora and trees around it. The breeze distracted his attempt at puzzling out his partner's confusing actions, rising from the floor he crossed to the open window to close it. Luckily he noticed the small pouch before crushing it.

"Bad habit of leaving gifts without warning, some things never change." Kurama moved the pouch and closed the window completely, moving to his desk to inspect the contents. Inside there was a note and two seeds, their aura marking them as different species. Curiosity completely peaked and all other thoughts brushed aside as the redhead determined they were from Ningenkai and thus safe to pour a bit of his energy into to unfold the mystery of what the blooms would look like. The first grew until a bloom unfurled, black in color and with several smaller blooms in the middle. Thin tendrils sprouted from the middle as well fading from the black color to a white near the ends. Tacca chantrieri or the more common name, the black bat plant.

As intrigued as he was, Kurama set the plant aside in a spare pot and turned to the other seed. With one more burst of energy but more gentle the seed grew into a familiar shape. Glancing between the newly grown rose sporting stripes of cream and purple and the black plant, something was nagging at the back of his mind. Hiei was rather straightforward and blunt with most things, the only exception being… His feelings, oh. The rose was indeed beautiful but the knowledge behind the message made it breathtaking.

"I wonder if there's room in the garden out back."

---

Kurama knew it would take a time before his rather thoughtful partner would appear again and so he waited patiently, keeping a close eye on his newest additions and their welfare. Sooner than expected the ever elusive fire demon returned, occupying his window once more.

"I trust you didn't have to suffer the rain and that's why I haven't seen you in so long?"

"Hn." Not talkative but not opposed to idle chatter and maybe he could squeeze a couple of answers from the surly visitor.

"Well if you need a reprieve and some rest, I won't need my bed for the day." The redhead kept a playful tone, same as always while watching those crimson eyes scan his room to look for changes. They alighted upon the recent pot that had its home on the corner of his desk that housed a certain small but healthy black plant. Meeting the shorter demon's gaze head on, Kurama noticed it was guarded and calculating. A point in his favor to cement his theory. "The tacca chantrieri, I must say, is not the most common gift one would give. I've been wondering why you, of all people, would give me a black bat plant."

"I'm not wasting my breath. Is your mother due home soon?" Small deflection but the thoughts behind his eyes were still not very clear.

"No, she's out for a while yet. Feel free to use the bath and I can make you something to eat or heal as needed. Nothing has changed Hiei."

"At least I haven't outworn my welcome." Kurama felt it had been the wrong thing to say before the fire demon disappeared from his room. He needed to know if the gesture had the deeper meaning the older demon longed for but was unsure how to coax the truth from Hiei. Letting all the thoughts roam free from the last couple weeks, the plant wielder plucked a seed and bloomed his new favorite flower.

"If only you would be blunt this time…" A memory of his mother receiving a bouquet of roses from his step father came forth, there was a misunderstanding. Shiori was always overjoyed to receive flowers but one bouquet had made her concerned. It was a beautiful array of red, white and pink mixed but the number is what Kurama remembered concerning her. There had been fifteen instead of twelve for a solid dozen and what she had said back then had stayed with him until that moment when he finally understood.

"All colors have different meanings but when it comes to roses the number can be more important. Fifteen means 'I'm sorry’ so I thought you were apologizing for something."

After that he had spent his time with various books and recalling old information from his time before his human life to understand something his mother loved. With barely a thought, he reached a hand and grabbed a lesser used seed from his hair and helped it bloom with a burst of energy. The white bloom was pure in color and when laid across the other rose made a striking pair.

"Kurama, I found some-" The redhead turned his body slightly while still being seated in his chair. Hiei was staring intently at the pair of roses on his desk before his fire gaze met his calm and collected gaze. "Feeling sentimental fox?"

"I wouldn't say that, more like soulful."

With a snort the slightly shorter demon crossed the room and distracted Kurama from wondering when his friend had a growth spurt by pressing their lips together. Humming in contentment, he let Hiei break the surprisingly soft kiss with a grin.

"White really?"

"With all my soul." Another snort but this time there was no kiss, just a fond tug on his forelock and a small amused quirk of lips that made Kurama promise himself that wouldn’t be the only kiss between them.

[fatesdeepdive]

Entry 33: Dawn Breaks

No Supports or castle stuff today. It’s time to end things.

Birthright Chapter 27: King Garon

Corrin enters the throne room to fight Garon, who stands up from his throne wielding a massive axe. Garon compliments us for making it so far. When Corrin mentions the deaths of Xander and Elise, Garon calls Xander a pawn, showing no remorse. You know, I like Xander as a villian, but goddamn did he get the short end of the stick in terms of parents to die fighting for.

Corrin attacks Garon, doing no damage. Azura begins singing and Garon grabs her by the throat. What are you doing, stepdad? Garon orders Corrin to stand down, using Azura as a hostage.

Ryoma attempts to negotiate an end to the war and Garon asks Ryoma to hand over all of Hoshido. And also kill himself. Then Garon attacks Ryoma with a fireball. I don’t think Garon’s good at negotiations.

Ranjito, Ryoma’s sword, begins glowing for some reason. Like Fujin Yumi before, it upgrades Yato, this time into a cool curved sword with a white glow. Wielding the new Blazing Yato, which is really OP, Corrin manages to hurt Garon.

This chapter sees us charging through the throne room, taking on an army of tough enemies who my high leveled units cut through like butter. Wait a minute, didn’t we fight Iago in the throne room? Does Garon have two throne rooms? Yeah, that tracks.

Garon has powerful stats, as well as skills that stop criticals and reduce the stats of units who attack him. But also Corrin and Ryoma are really strong and killed him easily.

Then Garon gets back up and trunks into an ugly dragon that demolishes Corrin and shatters Yato. Ryoma and Takumi run in to protect Corrin and also get taken out. Garon attempts to breath fire on the princes and Corrin jumps in front of them, T-Posing to block the attack. Corrin falls over, presumably dead.

Birthright Endgame: Dawn Breaks

The final chapter of Birthright, which has a name that is far too close to that of the fourth Twilight book for my liking, begins with Corrin floating in a black void. She wakes up back at the start of the game, in her bedroom, with Flora and Lilith standing over her, telling her to wake up. Either we’re in hell, or the entire game was a flashforward.

Corrin doesn’t remember anything and acts like everything is fine. Xander and Elise walk in and tell Corrin to wake up. Corrin says she’s happy, as long as everyone is with her. Then she remembers everything bad that happened to her. Xander tells her she can either remain in the afterlife, or go back and fight. Corrin hears echoes of Ryoma and Azura being attacked by Garon and Corrin decides to keep fighting.

All of the units we brought into the final battle shout cheers of encouragement; all of them are nice, but kinda generic, with two exceptions. Yukimura begs for Mikoto to lead Corrin back to the world of the living, which is really nice. And Azama says that Corrin isn’t destined to die for another 72 years and 19 days, which implies he knows exactly when each of my units will die. Which explains a lot.

Overall, this scene is great. It’s blatantly reused from Awakening with less narrative connection, but it’s still good.

Corrin says goodbye to her fallen friends, with scene shifting between the Frost Village, Training Grounds, and Dueling Grounds. Also, now that I think about it, where the fuck is Gunter? Did he have something more important going on? I know that Conquest and Revelations reveal he’s still alive, but I’m pretty sure he’s dead in this story path. Dick.

Corrin awakens, wielding a repaired Blazing Yato. Somehow. The repaired version of Yato, despite having the same stats, can now block Dragon Garon’s attacks. Neat.

We aren’t given an opportunity to head back to Fort Kenshi between chapters, but that’s fine. This battle has us charging through the ruins of the throne room to take out Garon. Again.

At the start of the battle, Azura begins singing her magic song, weakening Garon. LITWAA leads into the final battle theme, which is great. I don’t praise this game’s music enough; all of it is good and this battle theme in particular is amazing. As Garon begins to weaken, he begs for Anankos to give him strength. I wonder if that’ll end up being important.

Garon hits hard enough to one-shot most of our units and has fantastic defensive stats. Unlike the last round, he doesn’t wield an axe, meaning we can’t take him out by abusing the weapon triangle. This battle would genuinely be very hard...on hard mode. On normal I can just bum rush him and end the battle in two turns. Fittingly, Corrin ended up with the final blow.

Garon transforms back into a human and tells us he should have killed us as a child. As he dies, he says that perhaps this is what he wanted all along, the sweet release of death. He mumbles about how he lost his mind and became something, then dissolves into bubbles. Corrin wonders about what Garon’s deal was. Unfortunately, we need to buy some DLC to find out.

Azura faints, having pushed herself too far to stop Garon. Azura says that she can die in peace, knowing that everyone else will be safe. As Azura fades away, she asks Corrin to smile for her, one last time.

I know I compare this game negatively to Awakening a lot, which it definitely deserves, but I’d like to praise it for using its anime cutscenes in the final chapters, something Awakening didn’t. It really helps the dramatic moments hit hard.

Ryoma is crowned king of Hoshido, promising to bring the world into a new age of peace. Ryoma upholds his promise and helps rebuild Nohr with Hoshido’s resources. Everyone cries tears of joy.

Corrin meets with Leo and Camilla, who mourn the deaths of their siblings, and finds out that Leo is now king. Afterwards, she heads to the lake where she met Azura. Azura’s ghost tells Corrin to look into the lake, to find something hidden deep, before disappearing. The final cutscene shows the Hoshidan royals, happy together, meeting at a statue of Mikoto.

The credits roll, giving epilogues for all of our units and showing their battles/kills. I’ll be going through all the epilogues in bulk at the end of Revelations, but I would like to note my top units: Kaze, Silas, Mozu, Ryoma, and surprisingly, Azama. Who had close to 2000 battles because I sent him and Azura alone into a battle to build Support and unlock a Paralogue and just let enemies beat the shit out of him for a while.

As well as my least used units: Selkie, Caeldori, and Rhajat. Which isn’t surprising, considering I used them so rarely that I haven’t even mentioned recruiting them yet. My worst non Paralogue unit was Yukimura, followed by Shura and Izana. My least used actual units were...Sakura and Jakob. Sigh.

Saizo. The unit with the least real battles was Saizo. That’s what I was getting at. Followed by Kaden and Takumi. That’s not to say any of them were bad, Takumi in particular is insanely overpowered; I just didn’t need to feed him kills to keep him useful.

After the credits, the game gave me the option to select a few units to keep and recruit in later playthroughs. I only chose one, my max strength, eight movement Blacksmith: Kenshi. We’ll be seeing him again, eventually.

Closing Thoughts

Replaying Birthright has given me a new appreciation for Fire Emblem Fates. It’s a very flawed game, but to be honest, I had a great time. I’ve focussed on the writing, primarily, but the gameplay in Fates is fantastic. It’s a solid Fire Emblem game and I like Fire Emblem. Hell, things like personal skills, the rebuilt weapon triangle, and fixing pair-up make it a fantastic Fire Emblem game. My only complaint is that it’s a bit easy at times. Part of this stems from me playing Normal/Casual for this blog; I started a Hard/Classic playthrough in my spare time and it fixes most of the issues. The maps, although not as phenomenal as Conquest, are still varied and creative.

And then we have the writing, which is very hit or miss. I’ve explained my problems with this game before (black and white morality, incest, half of the Supports are forgettable), but to be honest, I do enjoy a lot of Birthright’s writing. It’s rarely anything special, but it gets the job done and occasionally has these fantastic moments of drama.

Birthright is a solid game that deserves a spot in the Fire Emblem series. If you haven’t played Fates before, I would recommend playing it.

Now comes Conquest, which has even better gameplay and also...even worse writing. Yay. But first, I’m going to be going through some of the DLC and Paralogues for Birthright.

[megmachine]

Mistakes

A/N: this is the first section of my WIP star trek fic. See the tags before reading if your interested, and please let me know what you think! 

The last time Jim ever saw his aunt alive, she was crying. He was thirteen and being led onto a bus alongside his cousins and had glanced out the darkened window on a whim. She had been standing in the doorway to their farmhouse, clutching little Sarah’s favorite blanket, arguing with one of the large men dressed in black that had come to take them back. The man had laid his hand on his belt, saying something, and Aunt Josie had broken down crying. Through a cloud of red dust as they drove away, Jimmy saw her fall to her knees and sob. Tear tracks cut through the dirt on her face, leftovers from when they’d been playing in the garden earlier. They turned a corner and trees finally blocked his view, and he turned back to talk to his cousins.

He was only supposed to be on Tarsus IV for six months. Driving the car into the canyon had been the last straw, and even though they’d ‘worked things out’ with the cops, Jimmy knew he’d pushed too hard. Frank was fed up with him and he’d been suspended from school again and his mother was still out there, exploring space without him. Winona said she would be earthside ‘in just six months, Jimmy, it’s only six months,’ and that this was just a stopgap to get him away from his step-father.  What a load of bull that was, not that he’d say it to her face. Two months in, when he moved into boarding school full-time and wasn’t counting down the days till his shuttle home, Winona messaged him. She told him her ship, the U.S.S. Faragaut, would be delayed eight additional months and for the first time, he wasn’t heartbroken. Fourteen months in the colony, he could make it fourteen months. His aunt actually liked him, she never even hit him, and his cousins didn’t treat him like a burden the way Sam used to. Classes challenged him, for the most part, and he got to go back home every weekend to see his aunt and the farmhouse. Sure, meals weren’t that big, but Jimmy had never really gone hungry here, either. Tarsus was good. Life was good. 

This time, though, as the farmhouse faded from view, he could tell his Aunt knew something was different. Clouds of red dust obscured his view and it felt like he was losing something, somewhere he’d finally started to call home. It was silly to get so melancholy about a semester at boarding school, he’d thought. He’d thought a lot of things that ended up being wrong.

It was two Saturdays later when Jimmy and Will wondered if something was wrong. A full two weeks since they had seen the rest of their family. They were sitting on his cousin’s bed, each with a PADD in hand, working on their homework. Their teacher, Hoshi, had been grilling them on languages, and despite Jimmy’s efforts Will couldn’t grasp Vulcansu conjugations. 

“No, see, it’s a past tense irregular verb, and you forgot the hyphen-”

“Jimmy.” Will interrupted him, something he never did. His face, normally an open book, was drawn and stiff. Jimmy held his tongue and swallowed back his knee-jerk snarky response. His cousin took a deep breath, held it for five seconds, and let it out in a huff.  

“I’m worried about my mom. She hasn’t been responding to my comms all week, and Mr. Davies told me we aren’t doing home visits next weekend, either. I just… I know you think it’s stupid to get all worked up over family, but this isn’t like her.”

Neither of them said anything for a minute, both brains running through the options. Finally, Jimmy sighed. He knew his cousin well enough to know where his mind had immediately gone, and had an idea of how to deal with it. 

“Look, Will, I do understand where you’re coming from. If you’re really that worried about Aunt Josie, how about we go see her? Will that make you feel better?” Jimmy tossed his PADD aside and stood up, stretching his arms over his head and groaning exaggeratedly. Honestly, he’d been wanting to stretch his legs too, but hadn’t had the right opportunity to sneak out until this moment. 

His cousin wasn’t convinced yet, though. “What do you mean? How are we supposed to get home if buses aren’t running to the farm?”

Jimmy smirked, tilting his head and glancing back. “Why, we’ll be breaking out, of course!”

That line sealed the deal. After all, Will was a bad boy at heart, too.

It was dark out by the time they could put their plan into motion. The double moons were rising in the west, casting everything outside the range of the street lamps in a faint, pale light. They took a walk in the botany gardens after dinner, a fairly inconspicuous thing to do. Subconsciously, Jimmy noted that a few of the plants seemed wilted, white flecks spotting a few lower leaves, but he wasn’t a botanist and so made no comment. Will kept an eye on the teachers that patrolled the area while Jimmy made his way to a shadowy corner, the one place he knew of that the cameras wouldn’t see him. From there, he accessed the security system from his PADD - he’d been teaching himself programming since he was five, sitting in the back of his kindergarten classroom, it was a breeze to hack these types of systems - and ran a loop of camera feed. From there the two made their way to the chain link fence that surrounded the school. 

The principal told them it was to keep wildlife out, since Tarsus had some rather nasty native predators. Of course, there was a hole in the fence that Jimmy had known about for a few weeks, and nothing had managed to get in, so he didn’t know the validity of that statement. The gap was barely big enough for him to squeeze through, scrawny as he was, but he’d kept it in the back of his mind in case he ever wanted to sneak out. There hadn’t been anything suspicious going on, at least as far as he was aware, so he’d had no reason to utilize it before this night. He was enjoying his classes, and had no reason to mess around. At, least, not until then.

Jimmy went through first. After making sure the coast was clear, Will forced his way out, too. The fencing groaned, and they both held their breath for a minute before determining no one else had heard. After that, it was smooth sailing for the rest of their ‘escape.’ The fence opened up into a thick forest, full of a mix of native and terran flora that formed a dense canopy and heavy shadows. They could still use the moonlight and their knowledge of direction to make their way towards the nearby town of New Franklin. The school they attended was fairly secluded, so their hike took nearly an hour. The principal and teachers, when asked, had said that the governor thought it important that students learn astronomy and botany and all types of things you couldn’t study well in the city, so their school was the only thing this far out. They were surrounded by forests on one side, and a massive plain on the other, and as far as one could see there was no other sign of civilization. When he first got there, Jimmy had thought all the greenery was wonderful. Now he was starting to hate it, as he was slapped in the face by yet another palm frond-looking thing.

Eventually, pushing through the thick greenery native to Tarsus, Jimmy thought he could hear the murmur of human life. It was about time - they still had to consider the hour-long drive to and from the farmhouse, and he wanted to get a little bit of sleep that night. Their plan was to either hitch a ride from a kind stranger, an idea Jimmy wasn’t a big fan of, or steal a vehicle, something Will didn’t like - even though Jimmy had argued that they wouldn’t really be stealing, they'd be borrowing with the intent to bring it back unscratched. That argument was part of why they’d gotten started so late, and now Tarsus’ first moon was more than halfway through the sky. Its blue face watched them as they foraged on through the woods, unwavering and unyielding in its faint light. 

They popped out on a paved road, the outlines of squat, wide-spread buildings against the tapestry of stars the only sign of civilization. There were next to no lights on, Jimmy noticed. No street lamps, or illuminated windows, or headlights. He’d have thought the town was dead, if not for the hum of generators he could still make out. A curfew, then? Why? Neither of them had any answers, but this did throw a wrench in both their transportation options. More so Will’s favored plan than his own, though his would be difficult to pull off too. 

Well, there was no way around it. The two boys exchanged glances - neither had said a word their whole adventure other than to warn the other of a hole or tree branch, too scared of being heard and caught - and advanced towards the dead town. Jimmy knew more than enough about hotwiring to be able to steal most civilian vehicles, and Will had been driving aunt Josie’s truck for the past year, so they were rather confident in their abilities. But that all depended on whether or not they would find something to steal. 

The first couple of buildings they approached were barren. Jimmy could make out the muffled sound of human voices and movement behind the walls, but there were no vehicles other than a couple of rusting bikes parked out front. The first hovercar they saw was all black and parked in the middle of town square. The engine was still running, but no one was sitting inside the car. Jimmy made a mental note of it and kept creeping along, hoping for a less suspicious get-away vehicle. The next one they saw was sitting in front of a small house. The car itself had four wheels and more than a little bit of rust, but it obviously hadn’t been used in the past few hours. The house it was parked near, similarly, didn’t show any signs of life. Neither Jimmy nor Will wanted to think very hard about that fact. Still, this was a better option, less likely to be noticed missing if they could get away quietly. Jimmy cracked his knuckles, gave his cousin a grin, and eased the driver’s door open.

Since he’d been old enough to start developing his fine motor skills, Jimmy had been playing with wires. Maybe not a sign of the safest childhood, but it certainly had its perks. For one, he could open a panel inside any car, four-wheeled or hovering, and get it running in under five minutes if it was a model from the past half-century. Thankfully, this one was. Another thing Jimmy was thankful for, he considered once the engine hummed to life, was that 23rd century cars were so much quieter than previous renditions. Not even the house a block over could hear it starting up. Will nudged his cousin over, crawling into the driver side and adjusting the seat to his liking. 

“I’m still sticking by my argument that I could drive this puppy just as well as you,” Jimmy grumbled from where he was buckling himself into the passenger seat. 

Will ignored him, throwing the car into gear and ever-so-slowly crawling out of the driveway and onto the road. “How the hell am I supposed to navigate all the way home if I can’t turn on the headlights?” he hissed, peering over the steering wheel in a way that didn’t really give Jimmy much confidence in his abilities. 

He sighed, hunching over the center console and pulling out more wires from Will didn’t even know where. In between stripping colorful rubber with his teeth, Jimmy explained himself. “Most modern cars actually have the ability to display an active infrared view through the windshield - night vision. It’s better than using the headlights, actually, but we humans are too attached to the way things have always been to use it. Manufacturers even got rid of the easy-access switch, but they never bothered to get rid of the tech itself. Lucky us.” He spared a second to glance up at his cousin, grinning wildly, before twisting two bare wires together and clipping them to a circuit board. Jimmy had no idea how like his mother he looked in that second, and the excited expression faded almost as suddenly as it had appeared. 

The windshield display flickered once, twice, before the pitch black landscape became visible in various shades of green and grey. The compass, temperature read out, and clock reappeared in their usual location (lining the top of the windshield, out of immediate eyeline), now a bright white against hunter green shadows. 

Jimmy almost whoop-ed, catching himself at the last second and instead silently punched the air. “What’re you waiting for, Willy?” He snickered, flopping back into his seat. Will grumbled something about ‘cocky little nerds’ and eased his way down the pavement, gradually making his way out the town as a pace that had both of them out of their minds with boredom before they’d even made it a mile. 

It took a little over ninety minutes to get to aunt Josie’s farmhouse. More often than either of them wanted to acknowledge, they’d pulled off the road and held their breaths, paranoid that they were being followed, only to laugh at themselves when no one showed up. Jimmy didn’t voice the alternative - that they were being stalked, toyed with. Will was on edge enough as it were. 

The lights were off when they pulled up. Neither were that worried - Aunt Josie had always been more of a morning person, after all. Her red pickup was still parked under the carport. As they walked up to the front door, Jimmy watched his cousin unwind, tension easing out of his muscles. Will pushed the door open - again, not worrying, they lived far enough in the country to not bother with locks - and stepped into the kitchen. The house was silent. Jimmy followed, hands in his pockets but eyes darting around the heavily shadowed room. 

Making their way deeper into the house, Will seemed to relax further and further while Jimmy felt the hairs on his neck stand up. Something felt off, but he couldn’t put his finger on what exactly was wrong. It was a somewhat similar feeling to what he would get when Frank was about to come home, full of cheap liquor and anger he’d take out on Jimmy and Sam. The air felt stale in his lungs. At the end of the hallway, the door to Aunt Josie’s bedroom was closed. 

Will was smiling as he nudged the door open. He took a deep breath, ready to call out to his mom, ready to be reassured of her health and safety. The next second he was hunched over, hands clasped over his mouth and stomach rolling. The smell of decay overwhelmed them, and Jimmy finally identified what, exactly, was wrong. 

Aunt Josie was laying on the ground near her bed, an archaic bullet hole through her chest. The light grey rug under her body was stained dark brown with old blood. While Will clung to the doorframe, trying desperately to keep his dinner down, Jimmy stumbled forward to her side. He’d always heard that people were peaceful in death, but Aunt Josie looked as distraught as she’d been when he last saw her, through a school bus window, two weeks ago. Her body was breaking down, past rigor mortis and well along in the bloating process. Deep tan skin was now motley green. The stink of rotting meat and excrement and who knew what else was thick in the air, having been trapped in the room with her. Dark liquid covered the wood floor, leaking out from her body, more fluid than one would expect from a corpse. If he looked closely, which he tried not to, he could see the small movement of maggots and cadaverous bugs within her small wound and under the skin. 

Saliva pooled in Jimmy’s mouth and he turned away, stumbling out of the room before collapsing to his knees and retching. Will staggered after him, pale and sweating. Neither of them said a word for the longest time. Will was barely breathing, not making a sound as tears pooled in his eyes and ran, silently, down his cheeks. 

“How long has she been dead?” he finally whispered, choking on the word.

Jimmy hated how his mind automatically went through the stages of decomposition, hated how for a split second he could objectively analyze how far along the body (his aunt, not the body, it was his aunt lying there) was. He was barely aware of his lips moving and the words coming out of his mouth. “It takes around eight days for discoloration to start. She’s probably been… for over a week.” 

“Fuck.”

It took another ten minutes for either of them to move. Jimmy pulled himself to his feet, dragged his cousin behind him, and made his way towards the front door. Will didn’t make a sound as he was led along, eyes unfocused and staring into the distance. It was past midnight at this point, and Jimmy knew they had to get going if they wanted to avoid being caught out. As he passed the kitchen table, a stack of mail caught his attention and he grabbed them, curious, glancing over the words. 

‘In response to your request… Cannot supply more rations… Distress signal…’

Jimmy swallowed and stuffed the papers in his coat pocket without a second thought. 

Will was still unresponsive when they reached the stolen car, and without a second thought Jimmy shoved him into the passenger seat before climbing behind the wheel. Driving this old thing couldn’t be more difficult than the corvette, and this time he wasn’t trying to run from Frank and the cops and Riverside. Jimmy didn’t spare a second to glance in the rearview mirror as he pulled away from the farmhouse. If he did, he wouldn’t have been able to leave. 

It was only when they got close to town that Jimmy noticed they were being tailed. At first he thought it was a figment of his paranoid imagination. It was barely there, in the corner of his eye, and his cousin was of no help in differentiating real from fabricated. Will hadn’t spoken a word since the farmhouse. Jimmy stepped on the gas a hair and fixed his eyes on the road in front of him, ignoring the tingling in the back of his mind. 

Jimmy pulled off on the side of the road and stared out the back window. He’d seen it again, bigger and more obvious. He was 85% sure there really was something out there, in the black of Tarsus night. Either way, he wasn’t too keen on getting caught, so they would be legging it through the woods the rest of the way back. He hopped out of the car and led Will behind him into the dense forest. He'd finally started responding when Jimmy asked him questions, and could see his surroundings well enough to avoid low hanging branches.

“Come on, we’ve got to go, they’re behind us Will, we’ve got to hide,” Jimmy panted in his cousin’s ear. They were making far too much noise, stepping on twigs and getting slapped by branches. He just hoped they could get far enough ahead of the people stalking them, out of hearing range and back to school before sunrise.

 Just as the thought crossed his mind, he heard boots stomping through the undergrowth after them. “Hey! Where’d you go? You know the punishment for breaking curfew, it’ll hurt less if you just stop running!” The overt threat of pain and punishment sent a chill down Jimmy’s spine and he couldn't let himself get lost in memories of Frank, he had to get his cousin back to safety. He grit his teeth and made a conscious effort to be quieter, shushed Will when he spat a curse at a vine that tangled around his leg but it was too late. Bright flashlight beams cut through the greenery and into Will’s face and shouts filled the air. 

Then they are running through the woods, abandoning all hope at subtlety and there are crashing footsteps behind them, the high pitched whine of phaser blasts and deep voices calling out promises of pain, and - 

Will trips over a branch, twists his ankle, and Jimmy hauls his cousin up and behind him. He’s limping and leaning heavily on the younger boy but Jimmy clings tight to him. He won’t lose more of his family, he won’t, not after Sam, he can help Will, it’s not too much further to the fence and if they can just lose these guards they’ll be fine.

Gunshots and phaser fire follow them, sinking into tree trunks in their wake, cutting through leaves and then they hit something definitively not wood and Will is screaming, crying, begging Jimmy to stop but he’s bleeding out all over Jimmy and it’s too much, too much, he can’t make it stop please make it stop! There’s a hole in his stomach, gaping in what little moonlight is filtering through the tree branches. Hot blood is burning his hands, his face, and he can’t put enough pressure on the wound while trying to run and he can’t stop running or they’re both dead. They’re both so, so dead.

Will is clawing at Jimmy’s hand and at first he grips it tight, trying to take some of the pain from his cousin, but he’s being slapped and Will is glaring at him with as much strength as he can muster, though it’s fading fast. Jimmy has never seen so much fire in those brown eyes until now. He’s wheezing, but he can force out a mouthful of words. “Leave me, Jimmy. You gotta get out of here.” The men are gaining on them and they don’t have much time left. Will lets himself go limp, still staring at Jimmy, shrugging out of his hold and collapsing onto the ground. He shoves him once, for good measure, when Jimmy stops moving. “Go!” Will shouts, the force of his words making blood spew from his paling lips.

 Jimmy runs. He runs, and doesn’t look back. 

[swansstuff]

So uh, I've been thinking about a hypothetical Trucy Wright: Act Attorney and here is the very poorly written outline for it because yeah. No spoilers except the Apollo Trucy thing. Tw death, murder, blood and grieving so yeah.

Trucy's first case is literally her first ever case. This is a flashback case. We follow her as she wakes up, slightly stressed about today, Phoenix gives her cereal and a pep talk and a cryptic message. Trucy asks where Papa is, it is Miles, they are married. Phoenix is cryptic about that too. He stays behind as he "has to buy groceries" so Trucy heads into the office. Apollo greets her, it's clear they know they're siblings, and he hands her a case. Miles is prosecuting. She is fucking terrified. She goes to the crime scene, Gumshoe is the detective and he's educating his teenage sons, constant confusion of who's who, because they are twins and they look very like Gumshoe, it'll be kinda funny. Its a simple investigation. During the investigation, the player can check Trucy's profile and the profile system shows character's middle names now. We get some gems such as Klavier Hyacintha Gavin later on, the reasoning behind this is coz Trucy is nosy. The important one here is Trucy Mia Wright. She says something about how she chose her own middle name when Phoenix adopted her and she chose Mia after learning about her. Yada yada. Trucy wins the case. Edgeworth is very proud, Phoenix is in the gallery and there's a flash of him crying proud tears, Apollo hugs her afterwards, Athena congrats her.

Next case, flash forward three years later, we do not see Phoenix and nobody really mentions him. Thats because he's fucking dead but we don't know that yet. This case is a Fey case, we meet Maya who is married to Franziska and they're technically on honeymoon in Kurain and Pearl becomes the Maya to Trucy's Phoenix. Its another fey murder case. There are a few mentions of Trucy's admiration of Mia, mainly just a mirror of a few lines she's said and a conversation where her and Maya talk about her, Trucy says she would have loved to meet her and Maya explains how her spirit has been dormant for ages now and how she assumes she's moved on.

"If you want I can try and channel-"

"No no no no NO. Its ok!"

This is our first hint that Phoenix is no longer with us, but we don't know until later thats what she means. Sebastian is the prosecutor, the player finds out that Miles is taking a break from prosecuting work, Trucy already knew of course, and Sebastian is dubbed Chief until he comes back, Fran says

"It would've been me were I not on my literal honeymoon right now." We are not told why yet, but it is because of Phoenix. Kay Faraday is the detective, somebody murders someone and frames Maya, no-one is shocked by this. We also get an update on Iris, she's thriving. She wins yada yada.

Next case, a couple of months later, Trucy gets a call from a friend that the player can't identify at first. Its Katrielle Layton. She needs Trucy's legal knowledge because someone is sueing her detective agency because have you seen how they practice. This, of course, turns to murder and we get another surprise when we meet the prosecutor. Who probably has a licence to practise law in England? Simon Blackquill, he is British ok. Yeah, Trucy wins with Kat's help, we meet Ernest and Sherl and Alfendi and Flora if we have time. I miss them. Trucy and Kat have a conversation that cryptically addresses their fathers and their "whereabouts" and living up to their legacy. We see Trucy cry, but only a similar flash to AJ:AA and we do not know why. Yet.

Next case, flashback case. Trucy is the assistant on this case but we still play as her, even in the court sections since Phoenix is prepping her for the bar and getting her to give him the answers. The bar exam is only in three days. Klavier is prosecuting. The case somehow relates to Kristoph and there's the whole mirror dynamic thing of when Phoenix lost his badge. Kristoph is dead by now, but the whole thing is there was a plot inside prison to make Phoenix pay for putting a bunch of them in, Kristoph was the assumed ring leader until he died and the cops now dont know who's running it. Somebody (Godot? That would hurt big time) was their inside man, sent to figure that out, so when whoever it was turned up dead, the whole thing got exposed. We get a bit of a Mia moment in the trial where Trucy tells Phoenix to flip over the receipt (thats evidence for some reason). Phoenix says "I feel like that shouldn't be the second time someone has said that to me". The killer is found, by Phoenix, and put into isolation, as have most of the other participants. We then see Trucy get her badge. They have a conversation and Trucy says Phoenix basically forgot about it for a couple of months. The case closes with a foreboding "and I forgot about it too, until..."

Next case. Phoenix is fucking murdered. Trucy gets a phone call late at night, she hears laboured breathing on the other end and a "don't forget I love you" from Phoenix. Trucy pulls a simba and goes "dad? Dad?!!" And the line goes dead. The player is presented with a choice of who to call. They have two phone calls. Who they choose first makes no difference, but the second time they are forced to choose Ema who will trace Phoenix's phone call. They could call Apollo and he would comfort her, Miles would panic, Maya would say he was just messing around, Athena would sense her distress and say she's coming over etc. You could attempt to call Phoenix back but he would not answer and you would be allowed to call someone else. Ema then traces the phone call and we follow Trucy to the crime scene. We get a truly haunting cutscene where everything kinda goes blurry except Phoenix's face and the blood. Trucy doesn't cry. She stands there in shock. The WAA is there in various states of shock and upset. Return of grieving Apollo I guess. Miles turns up and the look on his face is haunting. Trucy and him make eye contact and they share the thought of something has to be done. And then. "The bar association took me off the case and Papa too, they said we were too close to it. As a result, we never found out who did it... Until now." And we see a determined Trucy face. We jump forward to where we last saw Trucy, she and Pearl are coming back from England and its a bit more cheery. Trucy sends Pearl on a train back to Kurain and heads on home. She enters the house and we see Miles pouring over Phoenix's case. He jumps up and runs towards her.

"Trucy! I think I have a lead, I-"

"Papa, you're tired, go to bed." (Or better dialogue along those lines)

Its clear he's been doing this sort of thing a lot.

"But I do! At least...I think I do..."

He trails off and rests his head in his hands.

"Do I? Or am I just a mess?"

Trucy gives him a sad smile.

"C'mon let's go to bed."

Miles returns the sad smile and fades out like all ace attorney characters do. The player is given the option to look around. There's probably some emotional dialogue and bits that give clues to how she and Miles have been fairing the past 3 years. Answer is, not very well. Examine the pile of papers on the table. Trucy will take a look and then realise her papa may have actually been onto something. Its a diagram of which prisoners knew each other, with an arrow from each leading to a defense attorney we have never met. Trucy is confused, but she calls for Miles anyway. He comes back downstairs and Trucy asks him about this lead he found.

"Well I realised all those prisoners would know this defense attorney (insert name?)"

"Why? And why would they be suspicious?'

"They (pronouns?) Were always the defense attorney who would take on the cases of those Wright had already accused. They gained a reputation of being the doomed defense attorney."

"So... They knew all the prisoners in the plot and they had a grudge against daddy... Papa I think you're onto something!"

And the case continues, since we already know who's been accused, it plays out more like an investigations game, Trucy has to prove it, with Miles' help of course, literally every other character we know and love plays a part in making sure this guy gets a guilty verdict. There is still a courtroom bit and a moment when all is looking dark, Trucy literally has a full on breakdown as the Judge threatens to remove her from the case again. Miles is by her side, they're both technically prosecution here i guess. Miles, however, is too deep in his own mental breakdown to help. Everyone else is in the gallery besides Pearl. Pearl channels Phoenix as a last hope sort of thing. Phoenix comforts her and tells her to keep fighting, he touches her badge and probably says some sort of bullshit about it. The Judge is about to bang the gavel when Trucy and Phoenix object at the same time. Miles looks up and realises whats going on and he objects too, a little later. The battle goes on until it finishes and the other attorney has a breakdown that steals little bits from every other murderer Phoenix has put behind bars.This is the one time seeing the word guilty on your screen feels good. There's a whole heartwarming celebration at the end, Phoenix sticks around for a little bit and everyone gets a bit of closure. Its assumed he's gone since Pearl passes out and Trucy dips out for a sec. She's away from the festivities, staring at the badge in her hand and we see someone coming up behind her. Maya is channelling Phoenix now. He gives Trucy a hug and utters the words "the only time a lawyer can cry is when its all over and, Trucy darling, my light, its over." Echoing both Diego and Mia.

And the screen fades to black with a final hug between father and daughter.

:)

[prophecy-is-inevitable]

Indulgence of Divinity: Chapter 3

Michael Langdon x OFC

Michael and Ms. Mead follow the Divinity deep below the Sanctuary proper after accepting a dinner invitation. The court's private rooms are unremarkable--with one enormous exception. The woman and Michael reach an understanding of sorts.

Chapter Warnings: mild language, bad-mouthing religion (maybe?)

Word Count: 3756

(Also posted on Ao3 under the same title.)

--------

Chapter Three: Into the Sanctum

“If you have the time, I would be honored if you could join me for dinner this evening.” She turned to smile at the older woman, her face once again stern and protective as she stepped to her king’s side. “Ms. Mead as well..."

Evening had descended throughout the halls, artificial though it may have been, when Michael and Ms. Mead found themselves in the presence of the “Divinity” once again. Head held high and hands clasped daintily in front of her, she moved with a grace and fluidity unexpected for someone that had been restricted from the rest of the Sanctuary. Once again, she was clothed in delicate white. It was much simpler than before; Michael caught himself musing on the swaths of white linen wrapping over her shoulder, around her waist, sweeping around, and the forest green cords crisscrossing over her abdomen. Quite the contrast to his elegant all-black ensemble of fitted pants, knee-high boots, and satin black dinner jacket with red velvet lapels and Ms. Mead’s usual onyx authoritarian pantsuit.

Murmurs followed in the wake of the trio. Sometimes she would cast the residents a polite smile and a nod that sent them off kilter. Who the hell was this bitch waltzing around like she owned the place? And wearing white in the presence of the Antichrist? How pretentious! Clearly, Michael hadn’t been the only one unaware of her existence within the Sanctuary. Again, the remarks were met with the gentle bowing of her lips and a knowing glance. The air around her simmered with restrained reprisal, something lurking just beneath the serene exterior. No wonder she’d been cordoned off from the others. She couldn’t help wondering if their treatment of her would be as callous had they been made aware of her purpose from the beginning. In hindsight, she would have taken the risk if it meant a chance for true socialization. Each couple or group they passed celebrating the holiday of love with lustful acts filled her throat with a suffocatingly bitter sensation.

Their strides carried them through the towering mahogany stacks of the library. Anything salvaged before the bombs fell was stored within the large interconnecting chambers and provided with the proper care and protection to ensure their survival. Whether it was for educational, historical, cultural, or entertainment, all texts deemed valuable in any fashion rested here for survivors to pluck and peruse. Glistening spines of newer volumes winked from the shelves in the candlelight and then faded from view as the three ventured further. The air grew thick with the musty organic smell of the immemorial collections. Tomes and documents of the most importance were sealed and accessible only with supervision for those that had received the lead historian’s permission.

A large relief carved into the farthest wall depicted a massive tree bearing various fruits. The sculpture was polished and otherwise devoid of embellishment with the exception of two areas. Each fruit depicted was inlaid with gems of their respective color. The focal point, however, was the great serpent woven through the branches and entwined around the thick trunk. Scales of ammolite covered the body in dark iridescence. Candle and firelight refracted within the individual shards to bring life to the inanimate; every flicker of flame gave breath to the creature and the illusion of the rigid body ever-winding around its arborescent host. A golden crown rested atop the serpent’s head and a gleaming cinnabar heart within the fangs poured red water into a fountain below the tree’s carved roots.

Michael watched as their guide reached forward to situate a circular ruby into the hollow depression of the serpent’s eye. The fountain ceased its flow momentarily, the sound of water diverting behind the wall, and propelled hidden mechanisms. One of the dark wood shelves retracted into the floor to reveal a staircase that descended further still into the depths of the Sanctuary. Flames ignited in the channels lining the stairs to provide light when the first footfalls landed on the top stair.

“I apologize for the theatrics. The court was adamant that our chambers not be something a resident could simply stumble upon,” the younger woman explained as she retrieved the red gem she had placed in the sculpture. The bookshelf returned to its original position after Ms. Mead passed through the threshold. Michael heard the patter of her steps quicken just a fraction to stand nearer, and he turned to offer her a slight nod of reassurance. He would never let harm befall her ever again.

The steps carried them deeper into the mountain and below the main construction. Portions of the walls next to the stairs had long been eroded, giving way to caverns of mineral pools and natural ornamentation of calcite draperies, flowstone, stalactites, and other formations. Michael found his eyes greedily drinking in the splendor that he hadn’t known lurked beneath feet since the very beginning. His preoccupation with ending the world had left little time for him to explore and appreciate the wonders below the surface.

“These caverns and passages have been here longer than any human construction above ground. It was part of what made it the perfect place to house the vestiges of humanity. Half of the work to create a habitable city had been done ages ago by nature. Of course, it needed some refinement and polishing to reach the exceptionally high standards of the world’s remaining elite. I preferred for our area to remain more natural.” Her fingers danced over the rough-hewn wall when it reappeared beside them.

A landing appeared around a slight curve illuminated with an inordinate amount of light. The air grew warmer with each step towards the rays streaming through the doorway until they reached the crest of another staircase. The sigh of annoyance was barely restrained when it passed Michael’s lips. The invitation had been one for dinner, not a hike into the bowels of the mountain. When they passed through the doorway, the gentle scuffling of his boots on the floor came to an abrupt halt and nearly caused Ms. Mead to walk directly into his frozen form.

Sensing that her charges were no longer at her heels, the woman turned and observed the slackened jaws and wide, darting eyes of the pair for whom she was quickly developing a fondness. There was almost a reverence to their expressions, and it filled her with gratitude and satisfaction. It showed on the widening smirk gracing her tranquil features. She was happy to let them admire her work for as long as they liked.

The tunnel opened up into a room of immeasurable size, and the elevation of the stairs provided an excellent vantage point. No palace ballroom, no exquisite cathedral, came to mind as an equal comparison. Even the Orangery of Versailles fell dismally short of the grandeur and expanse of the sanctum before their eyes. Towering column reliefs patterned the chiseled walls, and natural springs had been converted to focal water features that bled across the floor--the earth and soil--below in creeks and streams. The rest of the walls were tiled up to the vaulted ceiling in square, mercury glass mirrors. The reflections blurred the reality of a boundary existing within the room and added to the enormity of the space. Climbing vines of greenery and clustered purple flowers rooted into some cracks and crevices and dangled from the ceiling. An ornamental sculpture of a compass had been carved out of the domed ceiling and indicated the cardinal points.

Despite the low symphony of sounds and sights, their eyes were drawn to the burning orb casting light around the room as it sank towards a pond at the western edge. Ms. Mead was the first one to ask what they were both wondering. Almost.

“Is that…?”

“An affectionate imitation of it, yes. It’s hard to compress such a force to fit in this space, but it helps simulate natural growth cycles and circadian rhythms. I’ve been working more within biomes, and it’s helped with determining what areas of the sanctum can maintain which regions.” The younger woman tilted her head and extended a hand to indicate down the stairs. "I'd be happy to show you more if you'd like."

They reached ground level, below the oak and pine boughs, below the rainforest canopy, at the same moment a pale gray sphere rose from a small pool at the eastern wall. She grinned at the appearance of the lunar resonance and stopped next to the water.

“Perfect timing; I’m glad it rose early enough for you to see. The moon was much easier to create. I’ve been banned from creating fire, at least for the time being,” she turned with a slender finger pointed at Michael, “since that’s your job.” She was certainly looking forward to her restraints coming off now that they had been introduced and would soon be testing their abilities together. It was going to be spectacular if the atmospheric tension crackling between them was anything to go by.

Michael wasn’t quite sure what to make of things. For the moment, it was easy to believe that they were no longer underground. Trees stretched above their heads, branches curving around the pathways in verdant embrace, and birds and other small animals flitted along in interest. All of this...had been destroyed by the bombs and nuclear winter, yet here it was in an impossible place miles beneath a mountain. He craned his neck and nearly danced as he spun and twisted to view as much as possible, and he noticed the shifts in flora and fauna the farther their journey took them.

“Gargano used to be the last remaining area of ancient oak and beech forests left in Europe. Many of those trees here are from acorns and beech nuts I was able to salvage when we first came here years ago. It seemed a shame to lose something so beautiful because of the failure of humans.” She gingerly plucked an acorn from the ground and cradled Michael’s palm in her own to deposit the seed in his hand. Her hands gently closed his fingers around her, her fingertips trailing over his hand lightly when she pulled away.

“Repeat after me. ‘Cum mea vita, et vos vivetis.’” Michael did as she bade him and repeated the words softly. They echoed one another as they continued the chant, breath ghosting over each other’s cheeks when she stepped closer and covered his hand once more, and their gazes locked. Spindly roots wrapped around his wrist, snaked through his fingers, and a stem rose through the gap between. “With my life, you will live,” she finished, stepping away to let him observe his work.

Michael’s hand holding the seedling remained outstretched before him. Roots continued to curl along his skin as the stem grew further until two fragile leaves unfurled. Michael stared, eyes wide and glassy, at the vulnerable greenery in his grasp.

“How is this possible?” His voice was soft and bewildered. He’d burned away the souls of others with those very same hands. How could they also bring prosperity?

“While your powers may be unholy, their origin is still heavenly. Your father used to be the most favored of all angels, remember? He was never stripped of his power; it simply corrupted to fit the purposes he needed. All it needs is a little push to remember what it’s truly capable of doing.” She bent and scooped a small hole in the earth beside them. “Ms. Mead, would you mind carefully extracting that seedling and helping me plant it here?”

Ms. Mead looked to Michael for direction. There was a glimmer in her eyes that closely resembled fear. Was their plan to awaken the divine side of Michael’s powers and forsake their master? Would he forsake her? She swallowed thickly and glanced down at the woman kneeling in the dirt. Her Michael had done such wonderful things before, but never anything like this woman had enabled him. More than likely they had only just scratched the surface. Perhaps against her better judgement, Ms. Mead dismissed the doubts and began unwinding the delicate roots from around Michael’s fingers. The smile on his face was one she hadn’t seen in quite some time--one of excitement and delight, and for some reason it called to mind the warm smell of french toast. His eyes were sparkling with newly rekindled purpose.

Once the roots were free of Michael’s jeweled fingers, Ms. Mead stooped to place the seedling in its new home in the rich soil. The younger woman placed a clean hand gently, reassuringly, on Ms. Mead’s upper back until it was time to pack the earth to support the delicate sprout. Very briefly, the women’s hands both covered the dirt and they exchanged a small smile.

“Perfect. Thank you, Ms. Mead,” the younger of the two sighed contentedly. It was important to Michael that Ms. Mead felt included in his endeavors, and he extended his hands to help both women stand. He appreciated this stranger’s consideration where others would usually overlook his maternal figure. “You’re both welcome to visit the sanctum whenever you’d like, but I must ask that you refrain from bringing other guests. It’s better for them to think that their food comes from hydroponics and ingenious animal husbandry than...here.”

It felt like hours passed while they explored the eden. Woodland forests turned to lush foliage and bright flowers with humid air, arid sands grew resilient plants and faded to open water at one end while grasslands turned to frigid tundra at the other.

“How long have you been here?” Michael asked upon losing count of the different species of wildlife roaming around.

“The bombs fell almost two years ago, and you were planning for three years before that… I’ve been here for about five years, then.” Five years. Time had moved quickly while she was occupied with her studies. Now it was time for it all to come to fruition. “They moved me from the safehouse in New England to the Sanctuary here in Italy as soon as you made yourself known.”

They arrived at the far edge of the room and slipped through an archway to a dining hall. It was nowhere near as extravagant or embellished as the common rooms in the Sanctuary proper. The walls were unrefined and the same rough texture as the cavernous hidden stairway. The table was simple cherry wood surrounded by eight unimpressive matching chairs. One of the chairs was currently occupied. Michael tensed at the unexpected guest. He had been under the impression the three of them would be alone to converse leisurely.

“This is Aldair. You might recognize him from this morning. He is the High Priest in charge of my instruction in Neopaganism, which I’ve honestly found to be some of the most useful. The focus on nature has been very beneficial. He’s acting as my chaperone this evening.” The man stood to greet them, his wavy chestnut hair slipping into his olive eyes for a moment when he bowed, and he smiled brightly when turning to face his divine lady. His close cropped beard glinted in the dim light from the large fireplace and tall candelabras as he moved to pull out her chair.

She sat to Michael’s left so that Ms. Mead could remain at Michael’s right hand as he took the seat at the head of the table. Aldair made his way around to hold Ms. Mead’s chair out for her as well and gave her one last courteous bow when she was seated. The domes over their plates disappeared with a quick wave of the Divinity’s hand, and revealed lightly steaming fillets and baked vegetables in a sweet and savory glaze. There seemed to be an absence of meat on her plate, and a wider range of vegetables and grilled fruits took its place.

“I hope that you will find the meal to your liking. Everything is fresh from today. Please, enjoy yourselves, and feel free to ask anything you like. I’m sure you must have a lot of questions, and we can speak freely in front of Aldair. He’s considered a close friend.” She reached over and gently squeezed the high priest’s hand with an affectionate smile before returning to her meal. Michael’s shoulders immediately straightened at the display. Close friend? Discreetly, his icy eyes narrowed and he stared at the man with every intention of reaching into the deepest, most secluded corners of the man’s mind.

“Mmm, this is delicious,” Ms. Mead chimed after finishing a piece of the fillet and subsequently broke Michael’s concentration. “What is this?” The smirk that tugged at the other woman’s lips was nothing short of mischievous in conjunction with the gleam in her resin eyes.

“It’s venison,” she replied, and took a bite of her own food. Michael’s lips stretched tightly over his mouth in an attempt to hide his amusement at the slight cough from Ms. Mead. “I’m glad that you find it satisfying.”

“You said that you are open to any line of questioning?” Michael received a nod from the raven-haired woman on his left. “If you have been here for so long, and known who I am, why haven’t we been introduced? Santori gave his explanation. Now I want to know your truth.” She nodded again and politely wiped her mouth with her napkin. Michael’s eyes bore into hers with the same fire he’d used when conducting interviews months ago; however, he found her to be frustratingly unreadable as his glare unfocused.

“Honestly, I’ve been given the same reasoning as you. We needed time to develop our powers individually. You had a purpose to fulfil far sooner than I did, and they didn’t want to cause any distractions for you. Since the Apocalypse has begun, your abilities have grown tenfold. As you grow stronger, so do I. Now, the only way for us to increase our abilities is together.”

As you grow stronger, so do I. A surge of recognition forced him to genuinely focus his eyes on her and found her gaze already upon him. The same satisfied smirk graced her lips as it had this morning. The words, and the sensations they conjured within him, were more than familiar.

“Are you involved with the Cooperative?” Her smirk grew wider by a fraction.

“Yes. I receive all communications sent to and from the Cooperative. I also helped draft some of the Outpost Construction Plans, picked the location for and designed many areas of the Sanctuary, and worked with Research and Development on sustainability and resources.” So she’d been involved all along. He’s probably been in direct communication with her at some point and hadn’t even realized.

“You know Jeff and Mutt?”

“Oh yes,” she chuckled lightly at the mention of the coke-addled geniuses. “They’ve been working on something for me for a little while. I haven’t been in to see their progress lately, actually.” There was a brief moment of silence where her thoughts on the project took up her attention before she caught the others still waiting for further elaboration. “Of course, they don’t know who I am exactly. My credentials and my email are under a pseudonym, for obvious reasons.”

“You really do not have a name?” Michael crossed his arms and leaned against the table to watch for any flicker of emotion or tell for a lie. He was skeptical at best, and she could tell.

“I do not. My mother--she was a nun--was told not to name me, not to get too attached, because I was ‘a sin’.” She rolled her eyes as she made quotation marks with her fingers. “It’s amazing how people who call themselves believers seek to invalidate something genuine when it doesn’t fit exactly into their archetypes.” Michael hummed and smiled in reminiscence. He knew very well how those of a faith could quickly turn on their own when not precisely conforming to a given image. “I went from the convent straight into the care of my court. There was never much time spent with one person to charge with the task of naming.” Her indifference surprised him for a moment, though he supposed this had always been her reality and was simply considered normal. He leaned his chin on the back of his hand and let his gaze slide over her form.

“And so that responsibility falls to me.”

“You and I are expected to form a bond, so I suppose they decided it would be an ideal start to the bonding process if you chose.” Once again, there was the feeling of receiving a pet instead of a colleague or partner. Michael leaned back to swallow a mouthful of food and watched her push a forkful around on her plate.

“Are there any names that you like?” How was he supposed to choose a name for someone he didn’t even know? She smiled sadly and shook her head.

“Not really. I’ve never thought of names in that way since I knew it wouldn’t be my choice.” Michael frowned and titled his head to watch her. He had anticipated utilizing some of the “Cooperating” techniques when presented with the opportunity to seek his answers, and now the hardened façade he’d prepared was once again crumbling despite himself.

“It could be your choice. If you wanted it to be.” A slim hand reached across the table and clasped his loosely. He found that he had no interest in pulling away, and he rather enjoyed the gentle coolness and pulse of contentment she emitted.

“I appreciate that. I do. To be honest, I’m excited to see what you come up with. It would be quite special to receive my name from my king” She mimicked his inquisitive head tilt and squeezed his hand softly. “I trust you.” The words were nothing but the truth. Michael felt a sense of pride. And a sudden impending pressure to do right by this person that had granted him her trust. It felt like such a strange word after years of receiving worship. Was that considered any form of trust? His fingers inadvertently returned her gentle grasp.

“I believe it would be in both of our best interests to leave that for a time once we are more well acquainted. If we are truly to be equals, your name should be as meaningful as your purpose. Not something derived from impulse.”

She positively beamed. An unlikely someone was showing her respect and consideration, let alone acknowledgement of her role, that sometimes even her own procession lacked. Michael’s chest swelled in triumph at her pleased reaction. Compassion and flattery earned far greater rewards than hostility and impatience, after all, and that was something Michael knew all too well.

[techouspeaks]

Winx and White Washing

Does the studio really have something against darker skin folks or is it just an over exaggeration by overly sensitive fans? Let’s find out shall we?

To be honest, I’ll just get to the point. Everyone is paler in this and I mean every single one! Don’t believe me?

I mean the yes, someone pointed out that some of the background characters, specifically in World of Winx are darker, but the thing is. Everyone, regardless of them being paler, still knows what representation the two are which leads to my main point. EVERYONE IS PALER! NOT JUST AISHA, NOT JUST FLORA! EVERYONE IS PALER IN THIS! AS WELL AS THE OUTFIT COLORS!

Even Musa, who is the palest one of the bunch, seems to be whiter in season 8 that she would make milk jealous!

The only reason why people point out Aisha and Flora are paler and not even bother to notice the other Winx are paler too, is because Aisha and Flora are darker skin. It’s also not even the fact the skin is lighter, the hair and some of the outfit colors are paler too, mainly the casual outfits. The only thing really dark on the characters in season 8 is the orange, purple, pink and green, because it wasn’t enough for them to turn the Winx into Walmart Barbie Doll rejects, they wanted to blind you as well!

People have pointed out that the background characters in World of Winx, least some of them were darker, including the villain mermaids, but I think this more has to do with style too because again, ALL THE WINX are paler in that as well! 

Wouldn’t even say the colors are paler but more so faded out, with the dark being in the outfits and hair, probably to give it that classic culture look. As for why some of the background characters are darker, probably this is a stylistic choice that is actually very common in anime and Disney movies. It’s to make the main characters stand out. It’s easier to spot the main characters if the main cast are brightly colored and easy to spot amongst the darker faded backgrounds and in crowds of people. Again, if it was done out of discrimination, Aisha nor Flora would be as focused on as they were nor treated as respectful strong characters. Even with their paler coloration, everyone who knows Winx would know what representation Aisha and Flora are. so it wouldn’t even make sense to make them paler for a discriminatory reason. They can’t hide it, they know fans know these characters and shoot, with just the hair style and hair color Aisha and Flora have, people know very well what race they are representing, regardless if the skin is lighter. People automatically know it!

(In fact, honestly, I think Tecna lacks the most development in WoW if we were to really be honest. She always gets the slack. Flora and Aisha are the more popular characters.)

Also, the darker skin characters that they do have like Tiger Lily here wouldn’t be as bad ass or respectable as a character if it was done intentionally for a hateful reason. They’re still seen as strong, powerful and even wise characters and again, ALL the Winx are given this same, faded out, brighter treatment. It’s just because again, Aisha and Flora are darker, is the real reason why people complain.

I know some people will disagree or a lot will say “It’s still white washing regardless how cool they make the character!” And I say “Then guess what! They white washed all the Winx then by that logic because they’re all paler too, including most of their frickin’ clothes and if you want to ignore that, than you’re basically proving that you have some bias ideals yourself!” All the girls got the same treatment! All the Winx became paler so if it’s about equality, there’s no need to complain because even the clothing colors got washed out too!  If it was just the skin, I may reconsider this but it’s not. It’s also their hair and clothing and I know they don’t wear the same exact things as the older seasons, but like with the denim Bloom wears and what they usually wear, you can tell the color changes within the outfits.

I’m all about feminism and equality but here’s the thing. It’s important to know the difference between real prejudice intentions and what is not because so many people who claim to be feminists, end up being just as vile as the people who are really against equality and freedom. In fact, they’re on the same boat just reasons switched around. There’s too many people like that, which is why it’s important to know when something is and when something isn’t prejudice.

To me, being all the Winx got paler and faded including their hair and even clothing in World of Winx and Winx season 8, I conclude it wasn’t a racist intention. If it was just their skin that was paler, maybe but it’s not. To me, I think people are just so sensitive and want to look for something racist or prejudice that they end up seeing nothing but that, while ignoring the important facts that debunk this reasoning. 

If you honestly still think it’s white washing, go ahead and believe that and you can go ahead and say how ignorant or other colorful language you have in your vocabulary about me. (Ya see what I did there? Haha...) There’s a reason why I don’t look at notes when I post these things because I really don’t care what people say about me. I’ve been called all kinds of things under the sun and criticized as wrong for having an opinion. So what’s stopping ya? Ya’ know?

Before anyone says “I don’t understand what it means to be discriminated for my race” because that’s another one people scream at me when I don’t agree with something they believe is a race related issue, I do. I’m Asian American and Native American mix. In case you don’t realize, Asians and Native Americans are often the ones getting the most ignored and the least represented in Western culture. As well as I’ve been personally discriminated at for being biracial and so if you honestly really don’t think I understand because I simply don’t agree with you...

But I personally think that this is just a case of “oh the darker skin characters are slightly paler in a different style! Let’s riot!” and ignoring the facts staring them in the face. I’m not even joking! In Precure, people rioted for Cure Solei’s plushie being slightly lighter despite colors translate slightly differently in plush form...

So yeah, that’s what I have to say about it. I’m sure I’ve made some or a lot of people mad for disagreeing. I’m not gonna change my views for something that should be obvious. I also would like to point out that I think it’s even more pointless ranting on about it being white washing when it’s an Italian cartoon and most people moaning about it are from America, where we kinda have no power over trying to fix problems like that. Italians may have a different view on said subjects, so that’s another thing on why I am tired of the moaning. It’s not in our hands! We have absolutely no say in it! It’s not like Disney where if they make us unhappy we vote to retaliate and boycott their stuff! We’re not the main demographic for the show! Rainbow is like “Okay, we’ll let you show our crap in English!” that’s it! They can just get revenue from those in their own country alone and it’s probably cheaper that way too! 

So that’s my rant! Seeya in the next review!

[queen-scribbles]

Small Price to Pay

Started with wanting to fic when Heodan saved Adi outside the back door to  Clîaban Rilag, kinda spiraled into something a lot bigger. WHOOPS. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯   I REGRET NOTHING

---

The journey to Clîaban Rilag was uneventful, and would have been downright pleasant if not for the intermittent rain showers. Even those could have been worse, as it was still warm enough to keep them from being truly uncomfortable, and none lasted long. The true threat to their progress--and once or twice their safety--proved to be Adela’s curious nature. There was just so much flora and fauna in the Dyrwood she’d never seen in Ixamitl, she veered off the road for “just a quick look” more times than she could count. Most of those times resulted in no more than a few minutes lost each, but one disturbed a pair of wood beetles, young things and easily dealt with, and not far past the Dyrford Crossing, she started for a patch of tall-stemmed flowers only to have Kana yank her away by the back of her dress--just ahead of the lunge from a stelgaer she hadn’t seen. It was not happy to lose an easy lunch, and put up a decent fight before Aloth and Pallegina managed to kill it.

“Perhaps it is better we keep to the road, ac?” Pallegina asked with a pointedly raised brow as she wiped her sword blade clean on the stelgaer’s coat before re- sheathing it.

“Sorry,” Adela said with a sheepish smile. “There’s just so much that’s new here, and these are so pretty...” she gestured toward the flowers. “But I have been slowing us down and would hate for any of you to get hurt ‘cause of me.”

“We’re used to buildin’ in time for you to explore,” Edér consoled, shooting her a wink. “An’ no harm done, right? Now c’mon, we can make a couple hours’ progress ‘fore it starts gettin’ dark.”

Despite his reassurance, Adela cast a guilty look at the dead stelgaer. Sure, no one had gotten hurt thanks to her--this time--but what if there had been more than one? A full grown stelgaer was nothing to sneeze at, and even alone this one had come uncomfortably close to both Kana and Heodan. If it had help...

Adela shuddered and twisted the ring that encircled her index finger, nails dragging over the inset blue stones. But it had been alone, and none of her friends had so much as a scratch, and what had turned her into such a worrywart? She glanced over her shoulder at the kith following her lead and a blush climbed her cheeks. She knew what. Or, rather, who. But that was ridiculous, just a silly crush, and he was plenty capable of taking care of himself-

She tripped over a wheel rut in the road and was sharply reminded getting distracted was a bad idea. Better to pay attention now and let her thoughts run rampant after they made camp. When no one would get hurt as a result(unless, maybe, she was the one cooking).

Edér was right; they pulled a couple more hours of travel from the day before shadows reached telltale length and they made camp in a meadow. Edér volunteered to make dinner, which meant there was nothing required of her until her shift at watch. Adela pulled out a book, as usual, and tried to read, as usual. But tonight her thoughts kept drifting  to the crouching stelgaer, Kana’s hand twisting in the fabric of her dress to yank her out of the danger, Edér’s loud whoop as he’d charged forward to take the brunt of the threat.

I really need to be more careful, she chastised herself, tracing the lettering of a chapter title with her fingertip before she resumed the attempt at reading. Instead, she remained so lost in thought she didn’t even hear the approaching footsteps and started slightly when Heodan sat next to her.

“What’s wrong?” he asked without preamble.

“What makes you think something’s wrong?” Adela asked innocently, letting the book lay against her lap as she looked up at him.

He nudged her book. “To start, you’ve been on the same page for five minutes, so clearly you’re distracted. Given that you’ve also been far quieter than usual for the past couple hours, it seems a safe bet something’s wrong.” He gave her a faint, crooked smile. “If you want to talk...”

He knew her entirely too well, and Wael’s eyes, it wasn’t fair(no matter how warm it made her inside). Adela tried to smile. “Well, you know me, I always wanna talk.”

“About what’s bothering you,” Heodan clarified, running one hand through his hair and leaving it an even more tousled mess than usual.

She hesitated a beat, but it wasn’t like this was some deep, dark secret or anything. “I just feel bad my curiosity put all of you at risk. I do love learning and experiencing new things, but I’d hate for someone else to get hurt in the process.”

“Considering you’re the one who was almost pinned by a hungry stelgaer, I’d say your curiosity came a lot closer to hurting you than any of us,” he pointed out wryly, playing with a frayed spot on his shirtsleeve. “We don’t want to see you get hurt, either.”

She snorted and flipped the book closed so she could brace an elbow against the cover and rest her chin in her palm. “Guess the only solution’s for me to be less curious, huh?” Somehow...

“No.” From the way Heodan’s cheeks colored, he maybe hadn’t meant to say it quite so vehemently. He dropped his gaze to his sleeve, picking harder at the frayed spot and biting his lip. “Even assuming you could be less curious, that would be...” He sighed, glanced sideways to meet her gaze. “The world needs kith who are curious, Adi. Who question and explore and learn everything they can about anything they can. They’re the ones who preserve history and bring progress. Kith like you are...” His gaze dropped back to the ever-growing hole he’d picked in his sleeve. “Well, rare. And for you to curb such a part of yourself, especially such an important part of yourself, out of fear would be a shame.”

Adela huffed her bangs out of her eyes and sighed, even as her heart fluttered.  “I just don’t want you, any of you, getting hurt for my sake.”

He shrugged. “The Dyrwood itself is dangerous, not to mention this... quest?... we’re on, you being excited about new flowers or ancient ruins is less likely to put us in harm’s way than most of the things we deliberately seek out. And I feel relatively safe in saying we don’t mind chasing off the occasional extra stelgaer, or steering you away from a bog.” He nudged her shoulder and smiled encouragingly. “It’s what friends do, isn’t it? And it’s a small price to pay for... for letting you be you.”

Hound’s teeth, her face was so warm the blush had to be showing through her fur. Adela straightened, her hand moving to pick at the carved lines in her necklace pendent, tracing the details of the elephant as she tried to think of a response that was both coherent and not too revealing.The sunset light glinting off the sliver band around his pinkie kept distracting her; its purpose likely to be called upon if she wasn’t more careful. After several long seconds of struggling silence, she decided simplicity was the order of the day and smiled at him.  “Thank you, Heodan. That... means a lot.” Especially from you. She knew any of her friends would likely say the same, but, well... he was the one she worried about most. What with her feelings and everything they’d been through together.

Heodan smiled. “You’re most welcome. Now...” He grimaced self-deprecatingly at the hole he’d made in his sleeve. “I should probably go see what I can do about this.”

“Alright,” she nodded, reluctant to lose his company but unable to think up an excuse for him to stay. “Good luck.”

He chuckled as he stood. “Thank you.”

Adela watched him walk away before returning to her book, soul now settled enough she could at least concentrate. Funny how easily he managed to do that.

---

The evening remained uneventful, and the few lingering clouds even cleared up, giving them a clear view of the stars as the sunset faded to the deep purple-black of night. Between the three of them sharing watch duty, Adela drew the last slot, which meant she got to catch some sleep before essentially just being a slightly earlier riser than usual. She was almost as pleased to have drawn that watch as Edér was to have avoided it--”Just ‘cause I can drag myself outta bed before the sun doesn’t mean I like doin’ it”--and came awake easily when it was her turn. Things stayed quiet, as they had all night, so by halfway through her watch, she had wandered out into the meadow and collected several handfuls of the deep pinkish-purple flowers growing nearby. It was an unfamiliar one to her, but the waxy blossoms were only slightly smaller than her palm, with slender but tough stems, making them perfect for weaving into a crown. Which she did, the movements such habit by now she didn’t even have to take her eyes off the surroundings as she worked. By the time her friends pulled themselves awake shortly after sunrise, Adela sported an expertly woven circlet of pink-purple blooms and was braiding the stems of the leftovers into a small bouquet.

“Kept yourself occupied, I see,” Kana said with a toothy smile and a nod toward the circlet.

“Gotta have something to do that didn’t take too much of my attention,” she said cheerfully. “I can make these in my sleep, so it seemed a good choice.”

“No arguments here,” Kana chuckled.

Adela giggled as she tucked the small cluster of extra blooms in the end of her braid. “So glad you approve.”

“Why wouldn’t we?” Edér chipped in, still yawning. “Look right nice on you. Whadda we got for breakfast? Everything comin’ today, I wanna face it with a full stomach.”

She couldn’t blame him for that, but, “Nothing fancy. I figured the earlier we got moving the better, so traveler’s bread and jerked venison.”

“Nothin’ wrong with that,” he grinned and helped her divvy it up.

They packed camp as they ate, and were ready to start within an hour of everyone being awake. Part of her hated to rush them, but with the early start, they could reach Clîaban Rilag, do what they needed to for both Edér’s sake and following the Leaden Key, and be headed back toward Dyrford inside a day. Given how much they had to do, that was for the best. Though she did hope they had time to explore a little. Surely there was a lot to be gained just from looking around an Engwithan ruin. She could leave everything where it was and still learn so much.

As they set off on the last hour or so of travel to the ruins, she caught Heodan looking at her with a smile tugging at his lips and couldn’t help but smile back.  “What?”

He nodded toward the flower crown. “I see your mood’s improved.”

Adela chuckled as she instinctively brushed her fingers against the petals. “It has. Mostly thanks to you.”

He shook his head. “I think it far more likely that it’s just hard for you to stay gloomy for long.”

“Well, true as that may be,” she said by way of tacit concession, “what you said last night definitely helped.”

Heodan smiled again. “Happy to help. Your curiosity isn’t a weakness, or a danger, and I’d hate for you to view it as such.”

“I don’t,” she assured him, playing with the tail  of her braid. “But I am gonna try to be a little more careful. For all our sakes.”

“That’s fair,” he chuckled.

“And appreciated,” Aloth chipped in from nearby.

Adela wrinkled her nose and her ears twitched back. “I am really sorry for the thing with the oozes, but I didn’t know what kind of reach they had, and this is about my fifth time apologizing in two weeks-”

“Adela, I wasn’t referring to anything specific,” he interjected before she really got going. “Just general relief you’ll be more careful, even if just a little.”

“Oh.” Said something about how guilty she (still) felt that that’s the first place her thoughts went when Aloth commented on her being careful. She rubbed the back of her neck. “Yeah. I know it won’t remove all our risks, but at least I won’t be adding to them.” She paused a beat, then played with a loose wisp of hair as she asked. “Oh, didja finish transcribing that spell you were working on last night?”

Aloth nodded, and the conversation almost seamlessly swung to the spells both of them were learning and still wanting to figure out. Somewhere in there, Adela noticed Heodan had wandered away and felt vaguely guilty she hadn’t really finished her conversation with him. But, really, they’d said everything important, she’d have plenty of time to talk to him later; it wasn’t as if either of them was going anywhere.

---

It wasn’t really a surprise when they caught a glimpse of the Glanfathan hunters clustered in front of the looming doors to Clîaban Rilag, just confirmed the importance Adela had already suspected it held. They gave the knot of kith and beasts a wide berth, and instead fanned out to look for detritus left from the battle fought here during the Saint’s War. She’d help Edér first--if she could--and then worry about how to handle venturing into the ruins themselves.

“Hope we don’t get mistaken for looters again,” Heodan commented with a mirthless smile as he helped Adela check through an overgrown tangle of weeds.

“Saw them, too, huh?” she side with a wry laugh.

“They’re hard to miss,” he deadpanned.

“Considering we do actually need to go in there,” she grunted, straining to reach something shiny trapped in the roots of the weeds, “they’re closer to correct than the ones who attacked the caravan, but I’m aiming to disturb as little as possible inside. Ah!” Her fingers closed around curved metal and she yanked free a Readceran heraldry talisman. Unfortunately with no traces of soul essence lingering, but at least it confirmed there were still things here to find. 

“Do you really think that will be enough for them? Assuming they even believe you?” Heodan asked quietly as they moved toward the stream that flowed through the clearing.

“Based off our previous experience?” Adela looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. “Why d’you think I’m putting off talking to them? Part of me’s hoping there’s another way in,” she admitted as the group forded the stream. “But one thing at a time. We’ll worry about that after we find something to help Edér.”

“If we can,” the farmer interjected in a disgruntled mutter, kicking a rock. “Don’t look like there’s much left, Adi.”

“Don’t give up so fast,” she admonished cheerfully. “There’s still plenty of ground left to cover.”

Edér grinned. “You’re such an optimist.”

“Yep,” Adela chirped, brushing her bangs out of her eyes. “Also, I just have a feeling we’re gonna find something.”

“I’ve learned not to argue with your intuition,” Edér said with a grin and a shrug as he went back to looking.

“Do you really?” Heodan whispered.

“‘Course I do,” Adela whispered back. “I wouldn’t lie just to make him feel better. We’ll find something, you’ll see.”

And they did; a Readceran standard crown that sang with hints of a soul very similar to Edér. They’d had to fight some looters for it, but given the men proved to be anti-Eothasian zealots, and attacked first, Adela found it hard to be terribly broken up over their deaths. Especially not when she saw the hope in Edér’s eyes as he stared at the standard crown.

“Is that...?” he started, before letting the words trail off, as if it were too fantastic as a concept to even voice.

“I feel Woden’s soul on it, yes,” she confirmed with a smile, brushing dirt off the metal sun’s rays. “But there isn’t enough for me to Watch. We’ll take it with us, next time we visit Dunryd Row maybe one of the ciphers can help.”

“Sure. I think I got room...” Edér slung off his pack and opened it. It took a little rearranging, but the standard crown did fit inside. “Thanks, Adi. Now that you’ve managed one thing that should be impossible, guess that’s next?” He jerked a thumb toward the looming ruins, moss and vines covering the walls. 

“It is the other reason we’re here...” Adela sighed. She really wasn’t looking forward to talking her way past the Glanfathans guarding the doors.

“You know, Adi,” Kana began, as if sensing her reluctance, “there a door here as well.” He pointed and she a double take, staring at the section of wall that caught his attention.

Sure enough, hidden by plant growth, she could vaguely see the outline of a door. “Good eye, Kana. One problem...” It was Adela’s turn to point, drawing his attention to the collapsed bridge and the gap between them and the door. “How do we get across?”

“We could just jump,” he half-shrugged. “It doesn’t look to be more than four or five feet, shouldn’t be hard to clear.”

Adela bit her lip as she sized up the gap. He was right; it wasn’t that big. Kana could easily clear it, Edér, Heodan, and Pallegina would be fine as well, and even Aloth was likely tall enough it wouldn’t be a problem. She was the only one who might have trouble. She’d jumped over streams almost that wide before, though. Granted, with the deep ravine the bridge had spanned, the stakes were higher than simply getting her clothes wet. The alternative, however, was trying to navigate a conversation with the Glanfathans guarding the main door.

“Alright, worth a shot,” she said.

Heodan and Aloth frowned almost in unison. “Are you sure-”

“It’ll be fine,” Adela cut them off with a wry smile. “Easier than negotiating with the locals, anyway.” Neither seemed to have their worries assuaged, but they didn’t protest further. “Who’s going first?”

“I’ll do it,” Pallegina volunteered in the same moment Kana started to raise his hand. She smirked, and made an ‘after you’ gesture. “It is your idea, aimico.”

“Very well,” Kana chuckled. He took a couple steps back to gain some momentum, pushed off the edge, and easily cleared the gap. His feet skidded a little on the lichen-slicked stone, but he regained his balance quickly and gestured for them to join him before turning his attention to clearing off the door. 

One by one, her other companions followed without incident. Heodan did pause to shoot her a wordless look of concern, but Adela met it with a reassuring smile. It was sweet that he worried, but it would be fine. She could do this.

Even if the distance seemed to double when she looked at it with the knowledge she had to jump across that.

You can do this, she told herself firmly, and then backed up for a running start. Before she knew it, she’d covered the ground and was pushing off what remained of the bridge abutment. Just as her feet left the ground, her flower crown started to slip, and she instinctively grabbed for it with one hand.

She did make it across, if just barely. But before relief for that fact had time to register, the stone under her feet shifted and cracked and she pitched backward with a yelp. The depths of the ravine were rushing toward her, there was nothing to grab-

A hand closed around her wrist, and she jolted to a wrenching stop just below the lip of the bridge, heart pounding and tears stinging her eyes from the sudden stress on her arm.

And a sharp grunt of pain that wasn’t from her echoing in her ears. Her head snapped up to look, and her gaze locked with Heodan’s wide blue eyes. Pain and raw fear were competing for dominance in his expression, his face almost as white as his knuckles as he tightened his grip on her wrist.

“Don’t let go,” he managed between gritted teeth.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” The attempted joke came out brittle and shaky, terror of what almost happened still sharp in her mind--sharper when she looked down and saw just how dizzyingly far she could have fallen.

“Adi, Adi don’t look.”Heodan’s fingers flexed and his voice caught her attention upwards once more. “Don’t look,” he repeated softly, and she nodded.

The few seconds before Edér and Kana reached down to help her scramble up seemed to take an eternity, but Adela did find herself on solid ground once more. Hoedan had released her arm soon as the others had a good grip, and when she was steady on her feet, he was the first place her gaze went.

He was sitting curled forward protectively, jaw clearly set tight as Pallegina felt at his shoulder. She paused in her examination and turned toward Adela.

“Are you alright?” she all but demanded.

Funny, that’s what I was about to ask him. Adela nodded, letting out a shaky breath. “Really, really rattled, maybe a few bruises” --she rubbed her wrist--”but otherwise fine.”

“Sorry,” Heodan managed, gaze fixed on her hands.

Adela snorted. “That’s a new one; never had anyone apologize for saving my life before.”

“No-” He tried to sit straighter, uncurl the arm held close to his chest, and stopped with a sharp breath. “I-If I hurt you...”

“I’ll live,” Adela chuckled wryly. “Literally thanks to you. Bruises are nothing, small price to pay. I’m more worried about you.” She started to rest a hand on his arm, but yanked it back when the barest touch made him flinch. “Sorry, sorry. I’ll get out of the way.” She backed up a step, glancing toward where Kana and Aloth had resumed clearing off the door. Maybe I should help them...

Pallegina muttered a frustrated comment in her mother tongue, then, “I think it’s dislocated. Fortunately, that is not hard to fix. Edér?”

“Yeah?” He pushed away from the rocks he’d been leaning against.

“I will need your help.”

“Sure.”

Adela ears twitched and she started to move further away, feeling more like a hindrance than a help.

“Adi.” Heodan caught her arm with his good hand. “I’m glad you’re alright.”

“Wish I could say the same,” she replied softly, flicking a glance to his shoulder.

“It’s not that bad. I’ll be fine,” He flashed a crooked smile. “And it was worth it, anyway.”

“Aw, ain’t that sweet,” Edér drawled, shooting them both a knowing smile before she had a chance to reply.

“That’s not what he meant!” Adela said hastily, fur ruffling. How hot was she blushing? Obviously Heodan hadn’t meant it... the way Edér was implying. No matter how badly she might want it, that wasn’t the case. Was it? No, Adi, don’t get your hopes up, we’ve talked about this. “It’s just ‘cause we’re friends.”

(But if that was the case, why were Heodan’s ears red? And where’d that flush creeping up his neck come from? Probably just embarrassment, right? Like hers.)

Edér just grinned. “Sure, friendship’s sweet. Whadidja think I meant?”

Adela rolled her eyes. “I’m going to go help Kana.” She didn’t want to watch what was about to happen, anyway. It would just make her feel guilty for something that wasn’t truly her fault.

Between the three of them, she, Kana, and Aloth(mostly Kana) had a good portion of the door clear by the time Edér and Pallegina finished fixing Heodan’s shoulder(and even if she wasn’t watching, that hadn’t been fun to listen to, either). With the overgrowth cleared and any decorative carvings recorded, the... less physically gifted members of the group got to hand Edér a prybar and let him and Kana try to work the door open.

Adela perched on a rocky outcropping near where Heodan sat as they waited, watching him flex and test the previously injured arm. “Everything alright?”

He nodded, rocking his wrist back and forth. “Relatively. It’s still sore, but that’s to be expected, isn’t it? I’m sure it’ll be fine.” He caught her skeptical expression and chuckled. “Really, Adi, it will.” He gave a lopsided smile. “And look on the bright side; it wasn’t because of your curiosity.”

“You still got hurt,” she shot back. “How is that a bright side?”

Heodan shrugged. “It’s not that bad. And you didn’t.” He raised a brow and nodded in her direction. “You did lose your flowers, though.”

“Oh.” Adela raised a hand to her hair. She hadn’t even noticed. But the crown of pink-purple blooms was indeed gone, vanished into the depths of the ravine when she fell. “Small price to pay.” She pulled her braid over her shoulder, grinned when she saw the small bouquet still securely tied at the end. “And I still have these. Heodan...” She rested a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry you got hurt.”

He smiled shyly. “Small price to pay. You’re my friend, and I’d hate to lose you.”

Her heart fluttered. Stop that, Adela scolded herself. He literally just said friend. But hearts were funny things, and hers didn’t much feel like listening right now. “So...” she began, resting her chin on her palm and glancing toward the doors that were just beginning to edge open under Edér and Kana’s efforts. ”What do you think is in there? Aside from, probably, another one of those machines the Leaden Key’s using to make life difficult.”

Heodan laughed. “I couldn’t even begin to guess. But we’ll see soon enough, won’t we?”

Adela cocked her head. “I will. But don’t you think it’s better you... stay out here?” So you don’t get hurt again...

“Adi.” He shot her a curious look. “Isn’t the point of me... following along on these adventures to help you? Can’t do that very well if you’re in there and I’m out here, can I?”

“Heodan, much as my area of expertise is not medicine, even I know you’re supposed to rest as part of the healing process for dislocated limbs.” She pushed to her feet, making them roughly eye level, and crossed her arms as she tried to stare him down.

“It was only partially dislocated,” Heodan countered(he was nice enough to stay sitting). “It went right back in joint with a little nudge, and it’s just sore now.” As if to demonstrate, he reached out with that hand and playfully flicked at her bangs.

Adela felt a smile coming despite the worry that gnawed her mind, but bit it back. “Yes, and it might not stay ‘just sore’ if you make it worse by stabbing things.” 

“A compromise, then,” he offered, glancing toward the rest of their party as the doors opened. “I will keep the... ‘stabbing things’ to a minimum and focus more on disarming traps and such that we find. How’s that?  We’re not splitting the group, I’ll be there if you need me, but be doing lighter work and try my best to stay out of fights so I don’t overwork that arm.”

She bit her lip as he looked at her expectantly. She did want him along, she just didn’t want him getting hurt again. Of course, it wasn’t necessarily that much safer out here, with the Glanfathans guarding the main door just barely out of earshot. “I.... guess that would be alright. And I’ll try not to let my curiosity run away with me in there.”

“A tall order,” Heodan said with a smile, pushing to his feet and pulling his pack back on--with just the tiniest wince as the strap went over his injured shoulder.  “Sure you can manage?”

“Not at all,” she laughed, “hence the try.”

All jokes aside, she mused as Edér and Kana hauled the doors open wide enough for passage, We really will need to be careful in there. There’s probably a lot of nasty surprises to be found, if I know anything about the Engwithans. And I’d hate for any of them to get hurt because I just had to look at a fresco or invention or something. ....Especially him.

 Reining in her curiosity was a small price to pay for her friends’ safety. And as she accepted the lit torch Edér offered her and led the way into the ruin, Adela decided it was one she was happy to pay.

[a-memory-of]

Efronne’s Orchid, pt. I

As the two entered through one of the side entrances, they were immediately greeted with damp air, the scent of soil and plant life, and a lingering feeling of aether. The section of the arboretum seemed to house various flora that thrived in low light, some even giving off a hued light of their own. It was strangely quiet, save the occasional rustle of leaves caused by a gust of wind that filtered through the many holes in the walls and ceiling.

Ellere Valahan turned to Ruran with a smile before shifting her gaze up and up to the towering trees above them, “Have I thanked you yet for coming all this way again with me? Well, even if I have, I shall say it again. So, thank you, dear, for coming.”

"Of course," Ruran Vas offered in lighthearted return, dipping his head once. "I would not turn down the opportunity to help you--nor to...see such an amazing place..." He took it all in as he spoke, particularly the glowing specimens. The stone at his chest flickered curiously. "Remind me, what does it look like? Shall we know it when we see it?"

Ellere opened up a book she had withdrawn from her pack, letting Ruran share a peek should he be inclined. Upon the open pages was a map, referencing the Arboretum when it was still kept in grandeur. “I know not how useful this shall be, but let us pray the pathways have not been utterly overgrown."

She flipped through the book to another marked page, showing a black and white printed illustration of a small flower that appeared to grow in clusters and described as pink in hue. "As for what we're after... here. Efronne's Orchid. T'was named after the herbalist who discovered it's use. It used to grow in the Shroud, but no one has seen it in cycles."

"I see," he murmured thoughtfully, leaning to examine the pages' contents. "I pray it still thrives here, and perhaps we could take a little more than we need for a Gridanian botanist..." He hummed thoughtfully but did not think too much more of that idea, instead glancing up at the path. "Shall I lead?" he asked, looking back to her.

Ellere nodded her head, "As do I. This place boasted housing a sampling from all parts of Eorzea." She gave a sigh, tucking the book under an arm. "Yet as you can see, it was left to fade away, just as with the Library. But yes... let us see how far we can get. If we find it, I am certainly not opposed to bringing back more." She gestured an agreement, allowing him to led on.

Ruran peered around him as they walked, in quiet awe of the overgrowth that surrounded them. "The Sharlayans were--well, are--incredible," he mused aloud.

"Can you imagine what it would have been like?" she shook her head, glancing above them at the giant trees and the way the light played through the windows above. "Such wasted ideas," she clicked her tongue, "Well, it will do me no good to go getting bitter about the short-comings of my nation, again."

"There is still much to be learned here, regardless if they abandoned it, but...yes, I am inclined to agree with you." He nodded once, turning his gaze outwards again. "I see no pink flowers yet...--at least, not the ones described in your book."

Ellere idly took a few steps forward, bending to pick a small orange flower, twirling it between her fingers, "No, I do not see it either. It is remarkable, really, to think on all that so many of us have forgotten. I myself would have never known this flower, had a friend not asked for such help."

Ruran's head cants curiously at that. "Oh? Does it hold a certain purpose?" He takes a step forward to remain near her. That was the reason he was here, after all.

She tilted her head, "Oh, I suppose I never did tell you why I dragged you all the way here, hm?" She gave a little laugh, nodding for him to follow but still picking a few small flowers as they walked, distractedly doing something with her hands. "And old friend asked for help. They gave me a poison, and sought a way to combat it."

"A--a poison, truly?" His brows furrowed in concern. "I can only imagine how important it must be, for you to have to come here in search of an antidote." A small hum escaped him. Though he took careful consideration of the plants around him, he did not touch any except for the ones beneath the soles of his feet. A few moments passed before he mumbled again, "It...almost reminds me of the Shroud in here--after a heavy rain."

Ellere's smile turned sad a moment, considering, "I suppose it was. I felt I owed him it. He was... a friend of my late husband's. Well, he might oppose the term friend, but he opposed most things." She shook her head again, clearing thoughts and turning another smile his way, "I would imagine it does. You might even recognize a few, I would wager. Though, I would also imagine many of the poor things here exist nowhere else, after the Calamity."

His eyes widened slightly at the mention of her husband. Such pasts were something neither of them spoke about very often. He turned his attention toward the plants, perhaps to discourage awkwardness or sadness. "They seem to be doing well here. Perhaps in time, the whole area outside will be filled with flora of every kind. Who knows?" The idea struck a hopeful chord in him.

Ellere seemed to agree with his mindset as well. It was a nice vision, indeed. "Sharlayan scholars and botanists who built this place infused the soil with aether, developed aetherotechnology to support irrigation, and cultivated several colonies of vile and cloudkin to tend the arboretum," she put her hands to her hips, looking around again. "They quite honestly, gave it everything it needed to survive all on its own."

"Amazing," he replied in a breath, glancing over at the various plants. "I have half a mind to pluck a few leaves to add them to my book. ...Do you think they would mind?" 'They', as if he was requesting the plants' permission.

Ellere had to smile again, offering him one of the small orange flowers she had picked on the way as a start, "You know, I think they would appreciate the company, and the attention. Being part of someone's story is a lot better than being cooped up here, hm?"

Ruran received the flower and carefully turned it in his fingers, careful not to squish the delicate thing with his leather-padded fingertips. "I suppose you're right," he nodded, moving to put it in the safety of his pouch while peeking back up to her. "W-well, shall we continue?"

With @weepingknight

[true-intha-blu]

A Fragment of a Fragment; a Vanitas and Sora fanfic. Chapter 2

Ventus sleeps peacefully in Sora's heart, but he was not the only one who found himself there. And the other was awake. A darkness now crept in the young boy's heart, wishing to bend the precious light to fulfill his own need for a whole heart. And thus, it is not Ventus who influences the boy we once knew, Vanitas shall shape his and Sora's destiny now. 

Tis I back on this new chapter. Chapters will not release this soon. I am just slowly getting momentum turned up. The actual plot plot of KH1 will start after a few more chapters. First establishing how Vanitas is and I love establishing pre game young destiny trio. So please be ready for slow starts.

This will contain spoilers for Kingdom Hearts: Birth By Sleep, and we'll work our way up. Disclaimer: Square Enix Characters belong to Square Enix. And Disney Characters belong to Disney. Nothing belongs to me.

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A Fragment of a Fragment Normal Kid Chapter 2

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A scattered memory is like a far off dream.

A far off dream is like a scattered memory.

Was this dreaming? It did not feel like a dream... but to a person who has never dreamed, it was the next best thing.

Like a dream, they were not related to him. Like a dream, they were separated from what he knew. However, the dreams were in fact not dreams.

Passing memories, both strong and faded flowed like mist over Vanitas as he slept.

The boy Sora had a small simple life. Four years old.

He liked to go out fishing with his father, watching how the older man used nets and fishing spears to gather the fodder of the sea, and watching his mother cook. He liked to run and jump around the trees despite the scratches and bruises. He liked to scribble stuff on paper, especially crowns, swords and stars that glimmered in the night. Sora enjoyed hanging out with his best friend Riku, though they competed like rivals. The kid loved the beach and sea and sky. He believed in Santa Claus. He thought monsters were cool. His biggest dream was being a hero!

He was nothing extraordinary. An average kid. No important lineage, no remarkable qualities or traits. A bit outgoing, but that was it.

On the outside, and somewhat on the inside, he was a completely normal kid.

And yet...

And yet...

Sora called out to Vanitas and Ventus, across the worlds. Sora, who must've held such a strong sense of self as to be able to manifest it as a drive, albeit a small one. A boy who often felt himself staring at the stars in longing. As though waiting for something, or someone.

Vanitas came to know this. The boy's heart brimmed with light, and it was second nature for him to follow it, to latch on to any source of positivity and make his own when he could.

It was so bright, and so... naive... Possibly worse than Ventus!

...

It was still better than anything else.

That the half a heart could actually stay here and not fight for a sliver of something positive. Something good.

Even if none of these warm memories or hopeful joy was Vanitas'; being a fragment of a fragment, he'll take anything. He was tired of always being denied. Tired of always fighting for a heart! Tired of everyone else.

Sometimes, Vanitas wandered. Awoken from this strange slumber akin to feeling underwater, but lighter than that. His mind would be sluggish, but aware at least. Sometimes he would leave that little dark shack and drift into that bright light of the beach. Though it changed, at times the sun hung just above the horizon. Other times the stars and moon illuminated the place just as brightly as the sun. The sunrises were also just as grand. Each with its own feeling of something positive. Everything that Vanitas ever lacked in his life.

Yet still, that empty feeling remained. Hollow. Just like his name...

Other times on the beach, Vanitas saw faint images of boys and other kids running down, before quickly fading out.

Sometimes adults. They were like phantoms that passed by Vanitas unaware.

Other times he delved into the dive, where the more deeper remnants of the heart manifested. The memories, permanently reflected in the mirrors, chained together throughout the fog.

Vanitas roamed this heart, learning how to navigate it. Progress was slow, but he was learning.

Bit by Bit by Bit.

The light was always constant in this heart

It was different from Ventus'. It was less...Vanitas didn't know how to put it...Less self-pitying, less vague, flighty.

On the other hand, Vanitas could detect Ventus' light slowly intermingling with the boys.

And for the darker half, that just wouldn't do.

A certain event awoke Vanitas. It was during small brief stints earlier that were more akin to sleepwalking that the Dark fragment found a way to peer in on the outside world through Sora's eyes.

The boy's tiny shards of darkness beckoned the fragment, drawing him toward the dive into the heart. Upon the glass platform, Vanitas watched as Sora was arguing with the other boy, Riku.

Apparently, it was about whose fault it was that they lost the game. Riku believed Sora was distracted during the game, and Sora was denying, albeit with stuttering insistence. Who was right, Vanitas did not care.

Riku had a confidence that Sora lacked. Sora followed Riku, that was always the natural way of things. Riku was the leader, and Sora listened and admired his friend. For better, or for worse.

Already, Sora knew that Riku was better than him in nearly all things. Fishing, wooden sword fighting, racing, or anything else.

It reminded Vanitas about Ventus and... someone.

Particularly, Riku reminded Vanitas of... Well, no name and face in particular, but someone similar. A confident person who was used to being the best. Used to being looked up to, and yet foolishly heralded towards any sort of power they could grab in a desperate attempt to prove himself. Stubborn and proud. Those who were used to being worshiped and praised by those younger than them, yet crumpled as soon as the status quo began to change.

Fools that could easily be turned into vessels. There was something else about that boy. He couldn't put his finger on it... Not yet anyway.

What he did know, is that he didn't like Riku.

And Sora was acting just as weak as his lighter half. He would not allow the heart he resided in to be weak. To crumple. Whether or not Sora was a kid, did not matter to Vanitas. He despised weakness. As he was never allowed to be weak. To have things go his way for once... well... Vanitas was nothing if not resourceful.

His disdain emitted into words. "C'mon! Don't be like Ventus!" Vanitas said this as his own anger compelled him to lash out somehow. "Get mad! Don't let this guy push you around like some wimp!"

...

It looked like Sora was ducking his head. Trying not to show his falling face and the weight of what seemed to be his fault.

Pathetic.

Before Vanitas could even turn away in disgust he felt a change. A familiar sensation. Those tiny shards of darkness, nigh invisible, began to shine.

"STOP BLAMING ME RIKU! You always do this when we lose!" He heard the voice of Sora echo. He sounded a bit angry for a little kid. "I did my best! Even losing, I did MY best!" It seemed like a struggle for Sora. "LEAVE ME ALONE!"

An angry huffing noise followed along with a different voice calling the boys name.

What happened?

Vanitas' eyes gleamed at the possibilities of what exactly this meant.

Did... did the kid... hear him?

No. It was impossible for him to speak directly to Sora. Otherwise, Sora would have been shocked to hear a voice from his heart instead of responding like that.

Behind the helmet, yellow eyes stared at those tiny shards of darkness.

He had sensed... that Ventus' light was subtly affecting Sora's...

Could he affect this boy's... darkness?

He felt exhausted, but at the same time, this prospect colored everything anew.

Next time... next time... He...

...

His body, or whatever this form that resided in this boy's heart, became tired. Compelled, he sought out the dreamy little beach, that little shack with shade, the door cracked open for that single ray of light... and peace washed over him.

Time goes on.

A year had passed, though time was practically non-existent to Vanitas. The only tell came from Sora himself acknowledging time.

It would happen during the night. The entire day Sora felt strange and in turn, made the heart feel... off. Not in a bad way, but, as though anticipation was palpable.

Vanitas awoke in Sora's heart as the phantasmal sun fluctuated in its brightness. The sanctuary beach didn't make a sound. No shining water splashed against the crystal sands. No whispering winds flowed through the vibrant flora. All was still.

As though waiting.

If Vanitas did not know any better, it seemed as though the sound was emitting from a different source.

The low droning of the collective voices chorused and echoed from the small tunnel that led into the Dive. It compelled him, lead him from the dream of this little heart.

From there, on the stained glass that flowed like water, the reality of Sora's eyes appeared before him.

Riku and Sora had been talking, still as fast friends as ever. They were walking down one of the paths from the kindergarten, taking their time in the warm breeze.

Vanitas listened.

"Did you hear?" Riku began. "The teachers told us that there's going to be a meteor shower tonight! Y'know, the type where there is a bunch of shooting stars in the sky?"

"Really?!" Sora was excited as usual, and the light in the heart sparkled with it. Vanitas had to resist rolling his eyes. What was so good about that? "What time is this going to be?" Now Sora sounded worried.

"Way past our bedtime! There's no way our parents will let us stay up to see it."

"No way! I'll go see it no matter what!"

"If you can do that, that would be amazing." The older boy chuckled.

"Yes, I will!"

"What are you going to do? Sneak out?"

"Uh-huh!"

"You'll get caught and get in trouble. We won't be able to play if you're stuck in your room"

This seemed to irritate Sora at being told he was incapable of doing something and Vanitas took full advantage to implant a seed of mischief in the heart of the boy.

"Just you wait and see!"

It was later that night where Sora laid frustrated on his bed. The toys scattered around the room while the fairy lights were hung along the walls by pegs. Papers were scattered about with scribbles of the results of Sora imagination.

Earlier, he asked his parents about the Meteor Shower to watch it, however... they said no. The shower is said to be coming after his bedtime and that loud festivals, lots of people and a tired young child were not a good combination.

And thus Sora was sent to bed on time as the little boy huffed in frustration. He stirred in his bed, ruffling the sheets even further. "I wanna see the meteors." Sora mumbled into his pillow. He refused to dress in his PJ's and stared irritated outside where he saw people illuminated by dimmed street lights, gathering on the mainland's beach to watch the meteors and where they will fall.

Sora wanted to be outside. He needed to be outside.

And that need, pulsed strongly in his heart.

Before Vanitas could suggest to Sora, testing to see how far his influence could affect the boy, Sora decided, on his own, to sneak out.

The small boy gingerly crept out of his bedroom, as quiet as someone his small size could be. The boy spotted his parents watching television- whatever show they were watching, Sora did not care. Stealthy as a mouse, he crept past and paused at the door, unsure how to open it without making a sound.

This is where Vanitas stepped in, whispering to Sora how to open a door and be quiet about it. It was a useful ability for his... His...

Once again Vanitas memories failed him. He knew he had to be stealthy at times... for what though... If he didn't.. He would have been...

Sora didn't hear any voice, or specific instructions, and yet his hand gingerly touched the cool brass knob. Slowly he twisted it, not perfect, few squeaks of the springs and bolts were tightened, but nothing to alert anyone.

Using both hands, Sora slowly opened the door and snuck away in the night.

As though on a mission, the boy crept through the streets, trying to stay out of sight. It was the type of town where nearly everyone knew each other. At least, they would know the son of one of the main fishermen of Destiny Island.

So Sora, with a strange notion in his mind, stuck to the places where the street lamps did not shine.

Deep in his heart, Vanitas smirked.

The boy had to find a place where he could watch the meteor shower without anyone spotting him. Logically, to the small child, it made sense to go to the island where he played to get there. It only seemed natural to go there. It was like... he needed to go there. Down the pier- a small, little thing- was where the children of the coast docked their boats. Sora found his own easily in the dark. The half moon provided enough illumination for those blue eyes.

With practiced ease that came from learning about the sea and boats ever since he was born, Sora untied his boat and was astern at sea.

Vanitas did not know why he enjoyed this so much. He wasn't even interested in silly little lights in the sky. Maybe, it was the small acts of defying authority, something he couldn't do originally. Or, was it because his theory of manipulating the boy was being confirmed?

Even then, that strange feeling that has been building in Sora's heart, was growing stronger. Soon Vanitas felt an odd sensation that coursed through his darkness. What was it? What drew this boy who had an astoundingly strong heart towards it?

A shudder, both warming and chilling, flowed in his 'body'. Anticipation was not an accurate word.

Sora continued onward, knowing the route to the island like the back of his hand. No vision needed. When he was almost there, did it seem like the stars began to fall from that black velvet curtain

Bright trails streaked across the night sky like threads of a grand tapestry. Blue eyes widened in awe and joy of the flying stars speeding up the rowing process towards the island.

Sora all but scrambled out of the boat, running across the darkened beach. He laughed and jumped, trying to reach out to grab the gold and silver streaks like fireflies. He wanted to fly with the stars, and see beyond.

Was there anything beyond?

The stars continued to fall, twinkling throughout the sky before fading in the darkness; Sora traveled further down the beach, close to where the Paopu Tree rock was.

He was shaking with excitement. At unknown possibilities and stories that no one else have seen.

And, then, illuminated by the moon and falling stars.

He saw someone.

A small someone, face down on the beach.

Not moving.

Acting on instinct, Sora rushed towards the person, their appearance hard to make out. He began to shake the person. They were wet from the sea and skin was ice cold.

"Hey!" Sora cried out trying to rouse the person. All he knew was sleeping on the beach was bad. "Hey! HEY!"

And then a noise, a small mumble and shifting by the person. Tiny and weak.

"Hey! Are you okay? Who are you? Where do you come from?" He asked the person rapidly; however, he felt the person shift their face back down in the sand, causing Sora to panic.

Feeling worried, he began to lift the person over his shoulder, a difficult task for a child but luck would have it, so was the person his size as well, and probably his age as well. Not good! He knew even adults shouldn't be this way. Slowly he dragged them away from the cold ocean and while Sora was unsure what to do, he could only try to get the person away.

"SORA!" A masculine voice called out his name, angry and worried at the same time.

It was his father. He must have realized Sora was missing from the house. The tall man was intent to drag his son back and ground him. What he did not expect was his boy looking worried carrying someone across his back.

"Dad!" He cried out, trying his best to hurry to his father, stumbling awkwardly with the person on his back. "T-this p-per- This kid! I-I! I found them! On the beach! T-they won't ope- I mean, w-wa-ke up!"

Instantly any anger the father felt for Sora sneaking out evaporated as concerned for the mysterious child Sora had.

The older man knelt down and felt how cold the child was, the child wet form was soaking his son's clothes as well. They were breathing, but it was shallow. They needed to be wared quickly.

"Hurry to the boat, Sora." His voice was firm but calm. Taking the mysterious kid, the father and son ran back to the bigger boat. It was more spacious than Sora's little wooden boat. It had storage spaces and supplies. The fisherman took out a blanket, thick wool, and wrapped it around the unconscious child. He got one for Sora as well and began the row back to the mainland.

It was a blur of events for the young boy who was dropped off at the house with his dad giving a quick message to his mother. Something about needing to go to the doctors while heading off, carrying the other child in tow.

His mother was both worried and angry and after a hug and a bath, she shooed him off to bed with a 'don't ever do that again' and waited until the boy was asleep.

And Sora dreamed of rising moons, glass pillars, crowns and girls flying through stars.

And while Sora dreamed, Vanitas stood still and shocked. If one could see his face, intrigue, wonder and awe, comparable to how Sora saw the Meteor Shower earlier. A desire flowed in him. Now he understood why Sora's heart was attracted to that place tonight.

That girl... that girl was full of light. Not a single shred of darkness. It... it was almost like...her.

He also remembered something.

Shooting stars, meteor showers, and a star blinking out, that meant...

A world ended.

The old man... told him as such...

And speaking of which... he must have been defeated. Otherwise, a girl like the one on the beach would not exist if the worlds have been equalized or consumed by darkness. Defeated, but not completely.

Maybe it was a gut feeling, but Vanitas knew his former Master had backup plans upon backup plans. And the fact that a world disappeared... Maybe it was a long stretch, even paranoia, but Vanitas knew it was in fact caused by the old man.

So he was still alive...

And as Sora slept, Vanitas hatred grew.

He remembered a bit more. Vivid sparks of affliction, fear, and gloom. Fury and Bitterness. Pain like molten hot rods and despair like a never-ending pit. Training. Is what the man called it. ...Even without proper memories, Vanitas had to resist the urge to clutch his arms. Fear was like an icy hand enshrouding his helmet, and the shock of lightning right into the blood veins

There is a reason why Ventus forgot.

The old fool wished to equalize darkness and light. Vanitas could tell you being a thing of pure darkness... it wasn't that great.

He craved light, so much of it. Even if it wasn't his.

And when Sora got near that girl.

Light bloomed in his entire heart.

What a wonderful feeling.

Did Ventus feel this? Every day since he forgot? This joy? This happiness?

The loathing for his lighter half and all the things he had increased.

He was tired of Ventus' getting everything. And this light? The light of this boy's whose heart unknowingly accepted him? He would not share it. He would not lose it.

Just like how no one shared it with him.

No one would take this feeling away.

End of Chapter 2

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Reviews and comments do help and I appreciate feedback

[ruler-of-scientists]

Eden ( Interaction transcript)

[ The Dome, ostensibly Grimwere's HQ on the Homeworld but also generally an open resource centre for biologists of all kinds across the metal planet. Nowhere else on the Homeworld, let alone the star cluster, possessed such a verdant and varied concentration of plants, it was a blast of colours and scents emanating from the sheer collection of flora available here. It was a miniature paradise contained in glass visible from above even in space, standing out from the myriad of other metal structures...

Grimwere *did* like to make a statement.

At present, Deire was wandering through the jungle-like interior, ears swivelling about, searching for any sound of her host; she had a subtle glow about her, as if she were psionically protecting herself from any lingering scents or possible insect life. Auri followed close behind, not quite as phased, unprotected by any fields as he was. ]

Deire: Hm, hm...where is she....

Auri: We are nearing the coordinates translated in the message.

Deire: Imagine being inside a building so large it requires navigational coordinates to get anywhere. [ it's said in a lightly sarcastic tone as she floats onwards, pushing through some thick leaves ]

???: Oh, there you are!

[Deire would recognize this voice, and perhaps get bothered by the mildly amused tone those words have. A feminine Arkan would appear shortly afterwards from the depths of the more lush section of the greenery, ruby red eyes glistening with delight.]

???: [Hovering in rather calmly, like she spends so much time in this place it's not that hard to navigate for her.] It's been a while, hasn't it, Deire? [Then notices the accompanying starman and acknowledges him with a polite nod.] Hello, Auri. Nice having both of you here today~

[Her fur has a quite pale, greenish coloration that seems to match harmoniously with those ruby eyes. There's a holographic screen idling next to her, indicating that she was taking some notes, perhaps working on something.]

Deire: [ raised an eyebrow at the clear amusement, though doesn't take it further than that. Instead she...offers a small smile, hovering a little closer to the other Arkan. ] Indeed it has been...Eden. Perhaps too long. Taking over from Veryn has done a number on my ability to find free time for anything else.

Auri: Fortunate then that you were sensible enough to -vrr- send Deire an invitation, Madam. She would never have left the Tower otherwise.

Deire: Oh, hush. [ looks back to Eden, noting the holographic screen] Hm. Working on something plant-related I assume? I can hardly imagine little else, given our surroundings. [ gestures around herself, vaguely ]

Eden: [Shaking her head lightly.] That I can tell, you look like you haven't gotten proper rest in ages... [Then blinks, noticing the screen in a way that suggests she was actually going to close it, and indeed does so.] It's just a little project I've been developing, but nothing too impressive. To Grimwere, at least. I imagine he must be too busy at the moment to look at a handful of sprouts.

[And her tone on that statement is a still somewhat amused one, as she gently makes a beckoning gesture and turns around, to hover towards a nearby table with a bench next to it. There's already a kettle and two cups waiting on it.]

Deire: I wouldn't be surprised, he seems fonder of grander designs...then again you never know with him. He's so very secretive. [ she followed Eden along, ears rising in intrigue at the sight of the table with the assorted tea set waiting for them. She raised an eyebrow as she sat down, Auri standing guard nearby. ] Hm...I haven't had tea in some time. But it would be very welcome. You think of everything, don't you?

Eden: You know me~ [And she smiles somewhat knowingly, while sitting down.] I am aware of the properties of coffee, but tea has a lot to offer too, especially when it comes to stress. How do you think I manage to stay this calm for so long? [And for a moment it looks like she will laugh, but instead her expression rather fades.] ...Ah yes, secretive. I suppose that's one thing he and Veryn have in common, huh...? 

Deire: Honestly I should take life lessons from you and drink more tea, it would make things much easier I think... [ she actually takes the liberty of levitating the kettle and pouring the tea into both cups for them, taking her cup and raising it in acknowledgement to her host before taking a sniff of the tea's aroma and sighing, looking into its depths ponderously with a similarly ponderous expression. ] Yes, Veryn is quite the secret-keeper himself....rather distressingly so. I imagine Grimwere keeps a lot of them from you, does he not? Secrets? I suppose it must not bother you too much considering his position over yours...no offence. 

[Eden's smile returns, albeit to a smaller degree, as Deire serves the tea. Then she levitates the cup closer to her and carefully blows into it, though she doesn't think it's too hot, but one is never too careful.]

Eden: Well... I believe we work in different areas. Some subjects might overlap, but I try to not let it affect me. I don't think our viewpoints are the same, anyway...

[Then she pauses for a second to take a liiiittle sip, and her smile widens.]

Eden: It's chamomile. Ever heard of chamomile?

Deire:  Hm, I suppose that has its merits. If we all shared the same viewpoints then there would be no room for new creation. [ She decided not to elaborate on her own inner turmoil- over how Veryn was keeping secrets from her, despite her loyalty to him. Her relationship with her mentor was different from the one Eden shared with Grimwere it seemed, so perhaps she wouldn't understand.

Deciding to focus on the tea, she takes a sip herself, and blinks once, before looking up at Eden, intrigued] ...no, I'm afraid I have not. There are a lot of teas available on the intergalactic market but this is foreign to me...then again I am no tea expert. It *is* pleasant however. [ the tip of her tail was waving slowly to and fro as if to demonstrate this, she was quite at ease now. ]

[Even despite how satisfying it is for her to see Deire simmering down, Eden can still tell that something is bothering her, and it's not just the overall stress of her work.

Perhaps she will manage to discuss it properly with her, perhaps not. The important thing now, either way, is Deire's well-being. It seems clear that she hasn't had a decent break in too long and, as one of her closest colleagues, Eden simply can't allow such thing. It's not only detrimental in a personal sense, but a practical one as well. How can Deire expect to perform efficiently when she's not giving herself enough time to recharge? Unacceptable.]

Eden: Oh no, you're quite right. This flavor is considered a rarity. [And she takes another sip, and her own tail begins waving softly, as if showing content.] It's from a planet called... [Pauses, seemingly trying to recall.] Earth? I think?

Deire: [ takes another sip, but pauses when Eden mentioned Earth; she lowers the cup, savouring the taste before swallowing her sip of tea, then addressed the current topic of interest with ears straight up, indicating clear intrigue. ] Earth...that planet that concerns the Giegue incident? The very same? Intriguing. I suppose this tea is a human invention then. Hm.  [ she peers more closely at the tea now, not like there was anything wrong or suspicious about it, but more out of increased curiosity. ]

[Eden tilts her head. Like it takes her a moment to recall, but then does so. Then nods.]

Eden: The Giegue incident, yes... [Then takes yet another, more thoughtful sip.] There were some rumors about that. Rumors about the discovery of even more life forms capable of PSI, though... if you ask me, it shouldn't be too surprising at this point. The rest of the Solar System has already shown high concentrations of psionic energy. If anything, it's interesting that it's available in so many planets in a row, don't you think...?

Deire: We aren't the only species to have developed psionics, but...still, for it to have developed in such a high concentration of planets is rare in itself. [ she frowned] Nontheless, humanity stole that power...they didn't develop it naturally and as such they have to be punished. Our species is not one to be crossed. [ polite sip] I'm amazed you managed to obtain such tea at all, it has to be contraband.... [ a small, somewhat cheeky smirk, very unlike her but oddly befitting. ] How did you obtain this, Eden? 

Eden: [Shrugs lightly, and shows another amused smile.] Maybe they were jealous, who knows... [And the smile seems to intensify when Deire herself smiles.] Nothing too spectacular. A friend of a friend, you know... Earth seems to have caught a lot of people's attention with this whole issue. 

Deire: A 'friend of a friend?' My, and I though I was the only one with such connections...then again, I use mine for salad. [ it was said in a clearly amused tone, the Arkan taking another sip of her tea before putting the cup down and interlacing her fingers] It will catch a lot more attention soon enough....hopefully the same entities you've received this contraband from will stay away once our activities there begin. Third parties won't be tolerated. 

Eden: [Doesn't shrug to not look too repetitive, but her expression clearly indicates that she would have shrugged otherwise.] That would be their problem. I would just have to look for a different tea flavor, and I like experimenting, so... [Takes another sip, then seems to observe Deire more attentively.] Is it true then? Will there be a mission to stop Earth's psionic potential from developing any further? 

Deire: Oh, it's certainly true. And it's not the matter of 'will there be' either- it's currently ongoing. One of our commanders is on his way to the Earth as we speak, in a warship, with an army. [says this rather casually, as if talking about a mission possibly involving war was some easy conversation topic as opposed to anything dreadfully serious. ] I hope it will be a swift campaign, one small planet isn't worth even one army in my honest opinion. 

Eden: It certainly isn't... [Squints with a hint of concern, but not about the prospect of war at all, that's everyday life. She's merely as intrigued about indeed getting so overworked about what's practically considered a little speck of dirt compared to other planets.] ...Do you think they might know something we ignore? Something about this planet...? 

Deire: [ paused. What a peculiar thing Eden had just said. she was about to take another sip of her tea (practically the last sip before it was finished) but stopped to look at Eden over the rim of the cup instead.] It's to curb the spread of PSI, Eden. Little more. Though the identity of the commander tasked with the mission makes it all rather...intriguing. 

Eden: Just because they... stole it? I mean, don't get me wrong, that's a very fair motive... There's just something odd about it, it almost feels like they think PSI wielding earthlings could represent an actual... [Then suddenly pauses upon catching that last bit, ears standing up.] Oh? Why would that be? Who is it...? 

Deire: [ finally finishes her tea, then puts the cup down and funnily enough licks her lips a little in some satisfaction, before she sat straight and looked at Eden neutrally. ] Well, if you must know...the reason it is intriguing is because the commander tasked with leading the invasion is that curious specimen raised by humans himself.

Deire: Of course, I'm talking about Giegue.

[ Deire and Eden are now available for asks! ]

[shewhohangsoutincemeteries]

room to breathe

Rocket Raccoon x Reader

Summary: requests by spacesuitsforemergency and an anonymous reader. your relationship with rocket becomes strained when his overprotectiveness hits your last nerve. you lock yourself in your bunk, and it takes an intervention from the guardians and a touching gesture from the raccoon to make things right.

Characters/Pairings: rocket x reader, implied peter x gamora, drax, groot

Warnings: angst, minor explicit language, emotional vulnerability (someone give rocket a hug damn)

Word Count: 3,410

MARVEL MASTERLIST

You tossed your blaster on the table, mindless of the way it skittered across it towards the other side. Quill, sitting with his boots kicked up on the table top, stopped it. He gave you a half-irritated, half-exasperated look as he did, leaning forward to pointedly place it in the middle of the table. You rolled your eyes, although it was probably for the best that he’d been paying attention; you didn’t need him lecturing you for accidently blowing a hole in the Milano while you were in port. Again.

Your expression was dark enough that it even gave Quill pause; he made no snarky comment at your behavior. You and the infamous Star Lord had become friends almost immediately after you’d joined the Guardians crew; you’d brought with you your laptop and a hard-drive full of movies and television from the last forty years that he still fawned over. You’d bonded over bad sitcoms, and while your easy-going but sarcastic nature had made you the perfect companion, he also knew well enough that you were not one to be trifled with when you were in a rare bad mood.

“What the hell is your problem?” Rocket followed in behind you, Groot sitting on his shoulder with his hand buried in the fur of his neck. You ignored him pointedly, bending down to unstrap your knife from your calf. When you didn’t respond, instead throwing the blade onto the table as well, Rocket turned to Quill. He’d left the bar behind you, cocky as anything, but now that you were ignoring him, his own frustration was mounting. “Is this some humie mood thing you forgot to tell me about?”

You practically growled at that.

“Hey, you two.” Quill said, hands up and his tone wary. The tiniest amount of sarcasm still clung to his words as he straightened, boots meeting the floor. “You guys have fun today?”

“Shut up, Quill.” You barked, and he raised a brow.

“What did I do?!”

You sighed, still avoiding looking at Rocket. Which, you had to admit, was easier than you’d think what with him being only a few feet tall. “Gamora back yet?”

Quill nodded, his brow creased in confusion. “About an hour ago.”

“Great. Can we get the hell outta here, please?”

“Oh, anything when you say ‘please’,” Rocket muttered sarcastically. You shot him a glare, and it was enough that Groot quickly clambered down from his place on the raccoon’s shoulder, eager to be out of your line of sight. You felt a twinge of guilt at the plant’s fear. You’d make it up to him later.

“I’m going to shower,” you said bitterly, turning on your heel as you shrugged off your jacket. You left the room, still fuming.

“Dude! What the hell did you do?!” Quill whispered as soon as you were out of ear shot, turning on his copilot.

“What makes you think I did something?”

“That ain’t some weird Terran mood swing, Ranger Rick, she was pissed off. What the hell did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“You better hope not.” Quill warned him, shaking his head. “Cause if she tells Gamora somethin’ and it’s your fault, you’re gonna have two very pissed off women on your hands that are totally capable of kicking your ass.”

***

You stayed in the shower far longer than usual, attempting to drown your annoyance in scalding water. It still didn’t last nearly as long as you would have liked; Drax had hammered on the door, urging you out. The last time you’d stood between Drax and hot water had resulted in him almost breaking down the door and getting an, albeit-fleeting, eyeful.

“Alright, already! Hold your horses,” you’d shouted back, then groaned. “Metaphor!”

You’d tugged the stiff faucet to off and wrapped yourself in a towel to go and stew in your bunk instead. You jammed one of Rocket’s favorite screwdrivers into the lock on the door for good measure, intent on keeping him out, at least without a significant amount of effort.

You knew it was petty and childish to avoid him, to lock him out of his own bunk and not actually discuss the issue, but no one ever said you were rational. That was probably what had drawn you to Rocket in the first place; his hot-head and short fuse meant that he was always entertaining, sure, but also meant that he often voiced your opinions in ways other than the sarcastic snipes you’d perfected over the years. You had to admire that; Quill and the others always seemed to listen a lot more when shouting was involved. And Drax never understood the mockery in your remarks anyway.

Your relationship with Rocket wasn’t something anyone you knew would consider normal. You’d balked at the idea when Gamora had suggested you’d developed deeper feelings than friendship over the last six months you’d been on board; and you’d laughed in her face when she’d told you she suspected the same of him.

You’d resolved not to say anything about it; convinced yourself you were happy to remain simply friends with the furry little creature. After all, what kind of relationship could you have? Certainly not a physical one. But Quill had made one too many comments over dinner one night that had outed the pair of you, and you’d eventually fallen into a strange kind of relationship together, more than platonic, kind of romantic, in as much as it could be between a human and a genetically-altered raccoon… and still always uncertain.

There was a tapping at your door halfway through you pulling up the sweats you sleep in, and you tugged them around your hips, frown deepening. “Go away, Rocket.”

“I am Groot.”

You jumped, hurrying to unjam the door and open it for the miniscule Flora Colossus. You swore as you struggled to work the screwdriver back out of the lock, and you tossed it aside when it was finally free. It clattered noisily against the metal floor. The door opened to Gamora standing in the doorway, an amused expression on her face and Groot sitting on her hand.

“Using Groot to get me to open the door?” You shook your head. “That’s low.”

“I wasn’t raised to be honorable,” she replied. “And it wasn’t my idea.”

“If Rocket sent you in here—”

“Not Rocket.” She held up Groot pointedly.

“I am Groot?”

“Oh, sprout!” You scooped him out of her hand, completely forgetting your state of half-undress. Pants, sure. Slippers, definitely. Bra, check. Your shirt however, was still somewhere on the floor. You brought Groot up to your face and gave his cheek a gentle kiss. “No, I’m not mad at you. I could never be mad at you, buddy.”

“I am Groot?”

“I promise,” you assured him. The little guy gave you a happy smile in response, leaning forward to spread his arms across your cheek in a hug.

“This room is a mess, Y/N.” Gamora told you in a detached voice, and you shrugged, slumping back on your bunk. Between Rocket’s shit, your clothes and the toys you kept picking up for Groot at every port you stopped at, the bunk did look like a bomb had gone off. Which, when living with Rocket, was a valid concern. You let Groot slide onto the sheets, and he immediately grabbed the nearest of the toys scattered across them. You both smiled at him as he held it up to show you, and he sat down next to you, for the moment enthralled.

“It’s not like we spend much time in here, anyway.”

“You have today.”

“Felt like being alone.”

Gamora raised an eyebrow at you. “What did he do?”

You frowned, bending your knee and wrapping your arms around it. “Why don’t you ask him?”

“Because either he is too stupid to know what it is, or he won’t tell us.” Gamora said plainly. She stepped gingerly around what could either be junk or a doomsday device, and leaned against the wall opposite you. “You’ll solve nothing by sitting here and stewing in your anger. What did he do?”

“The same thing he always does.” You shook your head. “Shoot first, ask questions later.”

“And this is suddenly an issue?”

“It is when it’s at some sleaze ball who’s hitting on me at the bar.”

Gamora hesitated, confused. “And you were offended because you… were interested?”

You scoffed, choking on a laugh. “No! Oh, God no. Gamora…” you sighed, glancing down at Groot. He was apparently still invested in whatever it was he was playing with. “I can take care of myself. I don’t like feeling patronized, and… every time I turn around lately, there’s Rocket, fighting my fights for me.”

“He cares for you.”

“I know that. I just… I don’t need a babysitter,” you said. “I need a partner.”

“And you are in here, hiding, instead of talking to him because…?”

“I’m not hiding! I’m… decompressing,” you finished lamely, and she arched a perfect brow at you again. “Talk to him? Tell Rocket he needs to back off? He’s more relaxed with me than anyone… maybe other than Groot, and I can still feel him flinch every time I touch him first. I tell him he’s being too pushy, and he’s gonna shut me out completely.”

“Y/N…”

You shrugged, forcing down the lump that was beginning to form in your throat. “It’s better that I just get over it, and he just thinks this is some weird ‘humie mood swing’ or something.”

Gamora straightened, coming to sit beside you on the bunk. She took your hand in both of hers carefully. “Nothing is going to last when it’s built on half-truths and one-sided compromises. He cares about you. Your happiness is more important than his ego.”

You breathed a laugh, watching her rub the tension out of your hand slowly. You hadn’t even realized you’d been clenching it. “You sure about that?”

“It’s a working theory,” she smiled.

“It’s not fair that you can do both the badass warrior thing, and the sage wisdom thing.”

She chuckled, but your own smile faded as you heard a throat being cleared.

“Drax picked up dinner while we were on Xandar.” Rocket said gruffly from the doorway. “They’re platin’ up now.”

“I’m not hungry.” You ignored the exasperated look Gamora gave you.

Rocket watched you for a few moments before sighing, shaking his head. “Fine. C’mon Groot.”

The plant looked to you, confused, before climbing down the side of the bunk and following his own personal guardian out the door. A muffled conversation picked up in the hall a moment later, and you raised an eyebrow at Gamora. She shrugged. Quill stuck his head in your room a moment later.

“Jesus, what is this, a truck stop?”

“Y/N – damn it!” He slapped a hand over his eyes, turning his head. “You wanna cover up?”

“Oh, please,” you eye-rolled, but grabbed the nearest shirt and shucked it on obediently. “Since when are you such a prude?”

“Since you started dating a guy who would happily blow me up for looking,” he retorted and your expression soured. “What?”

Gamora laughed lightly, standing and moving to leave. She paused long enough to touch a hand to Quill’s shoulder “That was the wrong thing to say.”

“What? Why? What did I—” He dropped it, turning back to you. “Get your ass up. We got dinner.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Bullshit.”

“Quill—”

“C’mon. Captain’s orders.” You scoffed obnoxiously at that, and he sighed, fixing you with a beseeching look. Damn him. You may have been pretty much immune to the charm he used on women, but when he had the audacity to give you that helpless look, all puppy-dog eyes and boyish hair, you were helpless. And he damn well knew it, the bastard. “Just… okay?”

You held out a hand impatiently and he tugged you up off the bed. You let him close you up in a brief, brotherly hug for a moment. “Fine. But there better be desert.”

***

“Damn it, Quill,” you whispered, turning to face him. “You said this was dinner, not a damn intervention!”

Rocket sat at the table, arms folded tightly across his chest. He stole a glance up at you before fixing his eyes back on the plate in front of him. The others stood around the edge of it, Groot perched on Drax’s shoulder.

“Who said this was an intervention?” Peter whispered back uneasily.

“I am Groot.”

“Groot!’ Peter said, his voice returning to its normal volume in exasperation. “Just… be cool, man.”

“You and Rocket need to talk, Y/N.” Gamora told you gently.

“Yes,” Drax agreed. “Your foul mood has made the little beast more intolerable than usual.”

Rocket growled warningly at that, and you couldn’t help the smile that twitched at the corner of your mouth.

“I thought we were having dinner.”

“That’s right,” Peter told you firmly, gesturing to the table. It was currently set for two. “You are. We’ll be eating in my bunk.”

“Classy.”

“Just behave yourself, alright? It took me a lot to get Drax to agree not to mediate this little pow-wow.”

You rolled your eyes at him again, but cowed slightly under the look he gave you. You nodded incrementally, and he clapped his hands together, gesturing for the others to follow him back out of the room. Gamora paused by your side, lowering her voice to speak only to you.

“Be honest. And be kind. He has tried.”

You raised an eyebrow at that, but she walked past you, leaving you alone with Rocket.

***

The two of you sat in silence for a long while, picking at your food without much enthusiasm. He kept glancing up at you whenever you ate, and it was making you uncomfortable. But you were just as stubborn as he was, so you weren’t breaking first.

“I—” Rocket started, before clearing his throat and falling into awkward silence once again.

“You what?”

He shook his head, eyes still on his plate. “It’s not important.”

“Sure,” you said, pushing your fork through your food. “Food’s good.”

He looked up at that, his expression warming, like a mix of hope and pride. “You think?”

“Yeah.”

He ran a paw through the fur of his neck, groaning. It was the same kind of groan he’d make before setting off to do something stupid during a gunfight. Amusement teased at the edge of your mood, but it dropped quickly when he did the conversational equivalent of kicking open the door and marching into oncoming fire, guns blazing.

“What did I do?”

You bit your lip, dropping your fork. He looked… helpless. You ran a hand through your hair, elbows on the table. “You just…” you sighed.

His head dropped.

“Rocket, I can look after myself,” you said quietly. “I need to be able… be allowed to fight my own battles. I get that you wanna… protect me, I guess. And I appreciate that. Really. But I don’t need you pulling a blaster on every asshole that looks at me in a bar. Or in the street. I need to breathe. And occasionally kick ass on my own.”

You’re gaze darted back up to him when you heard a sniff. His eyes were squeezed shut, his shoulders and head drooped forward dejectedly.

“Rocket?” You stood, accidently knocking your plate in the process. The fork clattered against it and knocked over your cup, but you ignored it, moving slowly around to his side of the table. He didn’t look up, and the closer you got, you realized his shoulders were quivering. “Rocket?”

You knelt by his side and reached out tentatively to touch a hand to the crown of his head, stroking the fur gently. He stiffened, ears twitching.

“Rocket, I didn’t—”

“Don’t leave me,” he whispered.

Your hand stilled, surprised. “What?”

“I can’t… I lost Groot.” He said, his voice shaking. “I didn’t take care of him.”

“Rocket, what Groot did…” you spoke softly, hand resuming a glacial pace through his fur. “…he did it for you. For everyone. It was his choice. He wanted to protect you, just like you want to protect me. Right?”

“I can’t lose anyone else…” His confession was barely more than a whisper.

“You’re not losing anyone. Groot’s not gone. Not really. We’ve got a little piece of him just down the hall, and sleeping in our bunk every night. And stealing your tools when you’re not paying attention just so you’ll stop what you’re doing and talk to him.”

Rocket made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob.

You inhaled, steadying yourself. “I… I’m not going anywhere either, you know.”

He shook his head, shrugging away from your touch.

“Hey, look at me. I mean it. Those guys aren’t going to whisk me away; I’m home here. On the Milano with Groot and Gamora and Quill’s dumb jokes and Drax’s lack of boundaries, and with you. I’m not going anywhere. And I’m not asking you to go away. I’m not even asking for space. I’m just asking for room to breathe.” You scratched behind his ear, and he gave a shaky sigh at the sensation. “Let me scare the crap out of assholes sometimes. Can you do that?”

He nodded slowly, eyes on yours. They were warm and wet with tears that wouldn’t fall and oh so deep. You leaned up to press a kiss to the top of his head, ruffling his fur as you stood. “Thank you.”

***

Peter and Gamora found you an hour later, sitting a few feet from the table with your back pressed against the wall and your legs spread out in front of you. Rocket was curled loosely between them, his chin resting on your thigh. Each steady exhalation he gave tickled your hip through the thin material of your shirt and his paw rested on your knee, claws hooked in your sweats. The fingers of your right hand scratched lazily through the fur on the back of his neck and between his shoulders, carefully avoiding his scars and implants. Even asleep, he didn’t quite relax, twitching and breath catching every now and again. You had a worn paperback propped open on your other thigh, and you held a finger to your lips as Quill caught your eye.

He grinned widely, smug.

“Oh, shut up.” You stage-whispered, mindful of your sleeping partner.

“You’re a big softie, Y/N.” He replied, shaking his head in amusement. “Ain’t she, Groot? All flash and no bang.”

Groot had followed them in, and when you spotted him he hurried over to you eagerly. You helped him up onto your lap without moving Rocket, and he settled on the same thigh as your book. He pulled it towards him, admiring the cover. It was one of your old favorites from when you were younger, and you’d read it to him a few times now.

“He was worried about the both of you,” Gamora told you, a smile of her own on her lips. “Did you enjoy your dinner?”

You nodded. “We’re getting that again.”

“You’ll have to talk to your boy there about that,” Peter nodded to the raccoon in your lap.

“I thought Drax got dinner?”

Gamora shook her head. “Rocket made it. With our help. He wanted to apologize.”

“I think his exact words were ‘make up for whatever the hell it was that pissed her off so much’.”

You stared down at Rocket, touched, and stroked his ear affectionately.

“I am Groot.” He pulled you out of your revelry as he tugged on your shirt, patting the book with his other hand.

“Okay, buddy. Okay,” you said, amused. You opened it back at page one, glancing up at Peter as passed you for the cockpit. He winked at you, his hand wrapped around Gamora’s. She paused long enough to bend down and kiss your hair before following after him.

“Jarred stood unnoticed in the crowd thronging the great hall of the palace.” You read quietly, and Groot leaned forward to follow the words on the page, despite not being able to read them. “He leaned against the marble pillar, blinking with tiredness and confusion. It was midnight. He had been roused from his bed by shouts and bells…”

In your lap, Rocket smiled, his eyes still closed, comforted for once by his own little family.

.

.

.

If you want to be tagged in any of my upcoming fics, send me an ask and let me know what characters you’re interested in. Characters available are listed here.

[worldwalkernovel]

if you're still taking content requests for alleirat, here's a weirdly specific au: which one leaves passive-aggressive notes tied to all the mistended plants on their apartment building's rooftop garden after keeping them all alive out of spite, and which one is the vigilante superhero living in the same building who sees the plant-tagger while masked and absolutely _seethes_ because their secret identity is objectively more important than marching up and saying "so it's yOU-", but they WANT TO

Brenneth picks up her abilities by accident and uh--the thing is, being able to breathe fire?  Very cool.  Visually spectacular.  Leaves her lips chapped and her tongue with a smoky, spicy taste on it, a little reminiscent of chili powder.  Not highly applicable if what you’re after is nonlethal attacks.  So mostly her preferred vigilante style is “I have a big stick and I will hit you with it until you surrender or I knock you out, it’s your choice”.

However, the first time she wound up in the news, it was a blurry cell picture of a woman in all black, feet braced apart and flames still curling out of her teeth beneath her mask, the tires of a car melted past recognition in front of her.  It’s a shot that’s been polished up thirty times trying to get a better look at her, but mostly the reason it matters is because the light of the fire had glowed through her throat and through the exposed skin between her collarbones, lighting up her bones like holding a hand over a blinding bright flashlight, even showing through the fabric of her shirt.  Brenneth doesn’t know how her powers work, but the fire starts in her chest, somewhere, and shines something awful, like a walking X-ray.  

So they call her Fireheart, that first paper who gets a picture of her, and it sticks.

Fortunately, Brenneth Gadhafi, real living human being with a life and a day job as a jeweler, mostly dresses in colors and never goes anywhere without her favorite red jacket unless it’s over 70, and also she does not glow in her daily life, so not many people look at her, with her hair looped back into a half-crown and falling loose down her back and her tools in her mouth, and think Fireheart.

She could fucking live with being a little more noticeable, though, because then whatever dick in her building keeps leaving her petty little notes on her plants might think twice.

The latest one is on her tomatoes and says “You should order some ladybugs.  Also, water these more.”

She also has eyes, Mystery Plant Vandal, and she knows you took a tomato.  Brenneth scowls at the note.  It’s very pretty handwriting, actually, typeface-perfect penmanship with a curl on the y’s and g’s and a tidy hook on the t’s, and it’s plain black ink on a yellow sticky note.  Brenneth has a collection of these notes by now, including one from a fern tucked into the shade of the elevator maintenance hut that just said “Buy some fucking drainage rocks”, and the worst part is that this asshole, whoever they are, is usually right.

Her tomatoes have aphids.

Brenneth grinds her teeth together and breathes smoke out through her nose, and looks up places to order ladybugs on the cheap.  Then she takes three tomatoes downstairs and eats the dinner of champions, otherwise known as two cold slices of pizza and two tomatoes sliced on a plate.  

Brenneth’s interest in cooking for herself has never been great and it’s taken a bit of a hit lately.  Vigilantism is time-consuming.

She stuffs the last slices of tomato into her mouth and goes to put on her black turtleneck--better to evade the paparazzi with, my dear.  Then she goes out and hits a couple people with her stick (it’s a staff, actually, because Brenneth took some weird classes in her late teens, but it’s...basically a stick) and has a serious talk with a guy about whether mugging people at knifepoint is how he wants to spend his time.  The flames flickering between her teeth seem to give her argument some legitimacy.

Overall it’s a very productive night and she’s on her way home by midnight.

She jumps and pulls herself up onto her fire escape, then creeps onto the roof from there.  This is Brenneth’s tried-and-true method of sneaking back inside, as her fire escape window jammed six months after moving in and three separate appeals to the property manager have not gotten her anywhere.  Brenneth hasn’t been burned by fire since she started breathing the stuff, so she kind of gave up after that and just started using the roof door instead.

The thing is, when Brenneth goes out, she usually gets home around three in the morning, give or take, so she’s used to the roof being fucking deserted, and therefore she feels fairly justified in her immediate reaction to the figure crouched on the concrete.

“What are you doing?” Brenneth demands, and there’s a low and dangerous rumble in her voice, like the roar of a bonfire, as her chest blossoms with heat and light.  It’s why the Fireheart always, always glows--Brenneth’s no fool, and she always uses the fire to mask her voice, to sound as unlike herself as possible.

The figure jumps up, startled, and--she knows him.  Not well, but he’s distinctive, long copper curls falling over one shoulder and deft slender hands raised in automatic surrender.  Apartment 459, her memory supplies.  She’s pretty sure his name starts with a C.  She knows for absolute fact that at least nine people on her floor alone would sleep with him in a heartbeat.  He is handsome, she’ll grant, almost pretty in the sour yellow light shining from above the roof door, with delicate features that belong on a Michelangelo and a graceful way of standing.  He’s dressed like he just got off work, eyes lined in black and a dusting of gold on the lids, his sleeves rolled up and the top button of his shirt undone.

There’s dirt on his hands.

Brenneth’s idle appreciation of her unexpected encounter with her local marble statue evaporates.  

“Sorry,” Plant Vandal says with a look of genuine apology, like he hasn’t been rummaging around in someone else’s tomatoes.  He faces her with a look of fascination, but no fear.  “I was just looking at my neighbor’s plants.”

“At midnight?” Brenneth asks, narrowing her eyes.  Hey douchebag, she considers saying, maybe buy your own plants if mine bother you so much.  In a moment of frankly herculean self-control, she does not say that, because she’s doing this whole secret identity thing and chewing out neighbors for flora tampering doesn’t generally help.

“Just finished up at the hotel.”  Plant Vandal’s hands are still up and he smiles a little at her, tentative.  “I’m not sure whose plants these are, honestly.  I started looking at them when they first showed up and I guess whoever it is didn’t really know that much about gardening, so I started leaving notes.”  He pauses, and the smile becomes a little more like a grin.  “And then I kind of thought it was funny and kept leaving them.”

“You’re kind of an asshole,” Brenneth observes in her rumbling voice, and he laughs, dropping his hands.  “You seem--pretty calm,” she adds.  “Normally I make people nervous.”

“Well,” Plant Vandal says, and flashes her another smile.  “I work in customer service, ma’am, I see weirder shit than you every day.  Besides, you've never killed someone if they weren’t an immediate threat to someone else’s life, and the only life I’m an immediate threat to is these aphids, so.  Not really that concerned.”  He’s still smiling and Brenneth feels sort of--wrong-footed.  This is not a reaction she’s used to.  “Not that you’re not very impressive, though.  Does it hurt, keeping up the fire like that?”

“It--no,” Brenneth says, and parts her lips to let some of the fire in her throat coil lazily away, like she’s blowing out smoke from a cigarette.  “Why are you messing with your neighbor’s plants, anyway?”

Plant Vandal’s smile fades, then, and he crouches back down, stroking the leaf of a bamboo stalk that, incidentally, has flourished without his snide little notes thus far.  “I just like plants, I guess,” he says.  “They’re easy to manage.”  He pauses and glances back up to her.  “Sorry to have kept you, Fireheart.  I’m sure you have better things to do than listen to me ramble.”

“No, it’s okay,” Brenneth says without really knowing why.  She finally hops down from the top of the fire escape and sits down on the concrete ledge, one ankle tucked up and her stick across her lap.  “Who else can you talk to, if you can’t talk to a firebreathing stranger at midnight, I guess.  Tell me why you like plants.”

(On the other side of this conversation, Crispin is scrambling to remind himself that being listened to is not the same as being in love, and mostly failing.)

[cheez-ka]

LOVE YOURSELF 轉 Tear 'Singularity' THEORY

*mentally prepares self*

BTS THEORY- after watching it like three times so it doesn't explain _everything_ but-

(IMP NOTE: THIS WAS DONE WITHOUT PROOFREADING VERY LATE IN THE NIGHT)

BASICALLY, Taehyung knew/found out/can feel Jin controlling him (specifically when Jin made sure Taehyung didn't commit murder by sending Hoseok to stay with him) and now he's calling out for Jin, who he knows as some weird force thing making him do things he didn't originally plan on doing, to stop doing that.

random stuff I've noticed: - the room Taehyung is in is the one in the Japanese MV of I NEED U in the exact spot Jin kind of fell apart in - 2:33 SMERALDO FLOWER (remember Jin's tweet) *read more on it here: https://aminoapps.com/c/k-pop/page/blog/the-meaning-of-the-smeraldo/02Ik_uQr53QkR66PnzBRwGmDz45on the smeraldo is a fictional flower- it's literally just a white flower painted blue- but here, and in all the music videos you see a flower in, it's white, the original color. This may mean innocence, with the lack of color, or this may signify (in this video at least) Taehyung's untainted memories (in other words showing that Taehyung realized Jin was controlling him, thus chasing out the blanket Jin put on Taehyung's mind, or the artificial blue dye put on the white flower). (more on this later- just remember it)

*lyric analysis* (crap this'll be long)

"sound of glass breaking/I awake from sleep" Taehyung didn't know that Jin was controlling him to avoid murder until after a while (given as he successfully didn't kill anyone) because of the brainwashing (yeah I'll just call it that) Jin did that put Taehyung in a haze was strong, but that was shattered by Taehyung's stronger feelings of hatred, vengeance and the like.

"a sound full of unfamiliarity" Apparently, Jin had continued to control Taehyung's actions even after the whole murder thing was avoided, something Taehyung never really noticed but now-

"try to cover my ears but can't go to sleep" -he can consciously feel Jin taking over.

"the pain in my throat gets worse/try to cover it/I don't have a voice" Taehyung realizes that he can't do anything that the "sound" (which is Jin) doesn't approve of.

"today I hear that voice again" more mind-control from jin yay

"it''s ringing again, that voice" Jin's apparently strong af because he has the power to control a guy's actions daily while also trying to deal with five other people's problems as well as functioning daily. mulitasking level 1000000000000000

"a crack again on this frozen lake/I dumped myself into the lake/I buried my voice for you/over the winter lake I was thrown/a thick ice has formed/in the dream I shortly went into" bOIIII he didn't pass natural science did he bc he threw himself into the fckin oCEAN or was it a sea

BUT metaphorically speaking this may show that Taehyung willingly let Jin inside his head. Most likely Jin had promised something like "oh all your dreams will come true I'm your fairy jinmother and you're princess cinderatae" and that's why Tae went into a "dream", aka a dream-like state where Jin had complete control over Taehyung.

*OH AND THE ICE IS THE CONTROL JIN HAS OVER TAEHYUNG- this is important for later **the lake is control over Taehyung or the place Taehyung is held captive while Jin's doing his reform work on the boy.

Jin told Tae that all his burdens would be gone if he "jumps into the lake" or hands the controls of his life to him but-

"my agonizing phantom pain is still the same" -despite all his problems seemingly resolved, Taehyung still felt pain. He just felt hurt no matter how much Jin tried to foolproof his whole plan to rid Taehyung of anything murder-related, hence the words "phantom pain". Hatred is too strong an emotion.

"have I lost myself/or have I gained you?" Now Taehyung's wondering if it was better with Jin in control or if it was better when he was on his own. Though it's true that with Jin his life goes a different path away from the blood and killing, that life that goes the better way isn't his own. It's a glass half-full or glass half-empty situation.

"I suddenly run to the lake/there's my face in it" Taehyung slowly starts to realize that he can gain back control of his life.

"please don't say anything/reach my hand out to cover the mouth" He tries to actively stop Jin from controlling him.

"but in the end, spring will come someday/the ice will melt and flow away" It was there he knew that Jin's hold on him will not last forever.

"tell me if my voice isn't real/if I shouldn't have thrown myself away/tell me if even this pain isn't real/what I was supposed to do back then"

*he probably says it in an accusing, pissed off tone

Taehyung remembers the actions he was supposed to take before Jin intervened (murder basically) and questions Jin's right to force his hand. Though his actions were obviously wrong (don't kill people kids) and he could've literally thrown himself/his youth away by being sent to jail, he felt strongly about them; he had the undeniable will to kill his father. That will still hasn't been shaken, in fact, it's been intensified now that he knows the whole truth about what he was supposed to do and what Jin forced him into doing instead.

WITH THE ANALYSIS FINISHED-

The whole scene probably went a little like this:

[in the flowery room with the pool in the middle]

"I had to take over Tae," Jin says, trying to get Taehyung to stop glowering in the corner. His power over the boy is slowly fading, Taehyung's dark, ugly feelings and unshakable will pushing him out. "It was the only way you wouldn't get hurt-"

"Hurt?" Taehyung laughs humourlessly, and turns to face Jin. The boy's eyes seem the same as they've always been since the older one took over, a haunting grey that shows he belongs to Jin.

But flecks of brown creep along the corners of his eyes, a dark, dark brown of his former self.

It scares Jin.

"Hurt?" The boy repeats loudly, scoffing with a cynical grin on his beautiful face. "If you didn't want me to be in pain back then, why are you hurting me now?"

He takes a step towards the one who owns him, the one who's locked him out of his own head and controlled his every action, the voice constantly whispering into his ear that's finally quiet. His crazed smile turns down into a disgusted look.

"Is my voice useless?" He yells and the other flinches. "Am I nothing but your doll to play house with?"

The other tries to open his mouth to say something but nothing comes out; this has never happened before. The flowers usually kept him happy, expelling their sweet aroma and putting him in pretty fantasies that would keep him occupied for weeks on end.

"You keep telling me that these feelings of mine aren't real, that it's just my imagination," he continues, tone increasing in intensity, his deep voice climbing higher, "but why do they hurt so much?"

Jin inches closer, slowly putting an arm around the despairing boy. With a flick of his hand the flowers around them bloom, setting the room in a pale pink haze as Taehyung slowly relaxes his tense muscles, his drawn up eyebrows falling.

"What was I supposed to do with them, if not kill their source?" He asks, softly, eyes fluttering closed.

He falls into the other's arms and they both sink down to the floor, his head on Jin's lap.

"What am I supposed to do..." He whispers before he escapes reality once again.

A tear falls out of his closed eye.

Jin sits there for a while, softly stroking Taehyung's overgrown black hair. It used to be a light brown, neatly cut above his ears, but the darkness has returned. It's taking over him again.

He lays him down on a bed of rose petals on the side and stands up. With a snap of his fingers the room loses its bright, comforting color. The pastel spectrum that painted the flora around the room have turned into all sorts of sickly, rotten colors from asphyxiated purple to dead black. Others simply looked bleached, traces of bright blue or pink showing up on the tips. Without really knowing it, he glares at the room, and the flowers seem to hang their heads in shame with how close they were to the floor. Even the walls, once tiled with lively colors that were easy on the eye, are now just newspaper pages stuck to grey cement and the wide windows that show nothing but the demons outside the room. It's getting harder to maintain everything.

His power is fading.

In the middle of the pool in the middle of the room is a small Smeraldo, just one indistinguishable piece taken off the many growing from the wall, save for one thing; it's not blue anymore.

It's white.

-

yea I write and I theory- I mean theorize

*cue shameless self-advertising*

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*dead laugh*

ok i’ll go to sleep now mom

[lo-55]

Revel Ch. 4

A Curious Walkabout                 

 Tori went out with him a few more times after that first night. Katakuri showed her the beach and the towns and the faces on trees as the dusk set the sky to a pale pink dusted with periwinkle and flecked with the Stars.

 He stayed quiet, most of the time, and it was always Tori who sought him out, but it was an improvement.

  He did not go out of his way to avoid her and he put up with her grasping his arm like a proper lady of the court.

 It’s bound to be something of a scandal when she gets home.

 Katakuri is not a noble lord. He is not from an ancient family whose name is etched into stone walls and sung of in songs. He is not blood of the Novae, he is not even of their archipelago.

 He is a stranger, and a demon, and the son of a witch who is eating up territory and consuming kings and countries who do not bow to appetite.

 Even more than that, he is going to be their King.

 Imperia is not like some kingdoms. They are not like the Grace’s of Lazareth, whose line of success passes through the boys only. Theirs depends upon birth line, and despite her siblings phenomenal talents and contributions to the country it will inevitably be Tori who takes over the country.

 Tori, and this strange man who will be their King, who she knows nothing about personally. Only secondhand information and a girls idled musings.

 Was that why Big Mom had married him to her? So that she could claim one of her son’s a king? If so, it still didn’t explain why they had chosen Imperia. There was nothing truly spectacular about it. Not enough that it would warrant this.

 At least, nothing Tori knew of.

 She tried to banish the thought, but as soon as it passed through her mind it would not leave.

 Tori looked out the window of the room gifted to her. A plum tree swayed in the breeze, fat red fruit hung low on it’s branches and the sweet smell floated in with the breeze. It tousled her hair, lifting the long strands across her shoulders.

 Was there something important about Imperia that she hadn’t known about? Was there something dangerous on her island? Something useful to a woman like her new mother-by-law?

 The idea soured the sweetness in the air and made her hands clench at her sides.

 Her father was not a man of many words. He had taught them little, indulged them beyond tradition, but it was tutors and knights and lords that had been responsible for their real education.

 He had loved their mother. Loved her so much that when she had died his heart had died with her and the light had left his golden hair until it was dusted with white and shocked through silver.

 He had withdrawn from them. Tori wondered if it was painful to look at his children, black haired and blue eyed like his beloved Dolce. She had been smart and kind, when she could be, but she did not shy away from cruelty.

 When Tori was young she had heard them fight once and only once.

 Their marriage had been one of love. Dolce and Lydander had fallen in love during a court season when they were both young. When he was new King, still mourning his father and Dolce was the youngest Dogeressa in history. She was from a good family, an old family, but the marriage had broken his engagement to Laetetia Felicitas, one of the richest women in the Grand Line.

 They knew, and their children knew, that they would have to marry politically to save face and to strengthen the political ties in their country. But Dolce, with a fury in her eyes, was the champion of her children.

 She told her husband, did not ask but      told     a king that his children would have a say in their marriage. That they could meet their betrothed and say no, if they so chose. She had made him promise, swear that he would uphold this. His daughters would not fear their husbands, their son would never be subject to a cruel wife.

 Lysander had forgotten the vow with her death. He had not given Tori a choice, had not offered the option to say no. Her sister had not stood for her and called for arm in Tori’s defence. Her brother had merely mentioned marriage laws would make an outsider a king.

 Lysander had drawn away from his children. He had forgotten his vows, or merely hadn’t cared, and Tori wondered if he had ‘forgotten’ more than just that promise. There were things that could only be passed from one to another, there was training to be a ruler that could only be learned from one that had been there or on one's own.

 Had he neglected to tell Tori something important, the way he had neglected to ask her if she agreed to the proposal?

 It was true enough, she couldn’t exactly say ‘no’. Her people would have been slaughtered by Big Mom and her children. She couldn’t deny it, but there was something about not being asked that stung her.

 “You look like you’re about to spit lightning,” Lapa told her. Her mouth it small and pressed over with blue lips patterned with small stars. The dress she wore was a pale blue that shimmered with silver woven into the floating gauze. Even looking for them it was impossible to see the number of knives strapped across her body.

 Tori turns to her. She and Aelia are dressed together in black trousers loose enough to pass as skirts and blue shirts that fluffed around the sleeves and tied across the chest. They were dressed down, the pair of them on their way out of the chateau and into the village nearest by. If Victoria was to rule this land as well, she needed to know its people.

 It would do her good to get out of the walls as well, though within the week she and her new husband would be on their way back to Imperia to visit with her father, as was tradition. It was meant to be a way for her father to ensure that she was being properly taken care of, but even if she wasn’t, he wouldn’t raise a hand to Katakuri. He wouldn’t risk it.

 Madelle might, if she thought she must. Aelia would, and Lapa would poison him with Daria cooking the pie. Varinia and Flora were hard to say. Perhaps they would fight him. Perhaps they would plot the downfall of his country and his mother.

 The thought made her smile.

 “We’re to be off,” she told Lapa. “Be safe. Beweary my husband, he may notice that you are not me.”

 “He would be the first one to see past us,” Lapa reminded her.

 “Still.”

 Lapa bowed minutely towards her.

 Tori drew Madelle’s arm into the crook of her arm and the pair went off.

 The people of Komugi did not keep riding horses. All of their transportation was done on foot, or in a cart, if it was needed. And so Tori was on foot as well. She knew the way from Chateau to the town well by now, she had walked it many times with her husband, in name and perhaps in friendship, though she could not say for certain. A few evening strolls did not make a confidant.  

 They passed through the servants quarters, and out the back until they had left the chateau behind entirely. It faded into the background and they walked quietly through the woods. The gold sunlight spilled dappled shadows across the pathway and the smell of heat and greenery enveloped the two of them.

 Komugi seemed to happily be a land of summer, with warm air that blew in and carried with it bird songs and the whisper of the magical, talking creatures that populated all of Katakuri’s mothers land.

 It was pretty, if not still a bit demented.

 The more time Tori spent on her new land the more and more she came to realize exactly how isolated her island nation was. Their fashions were old, of tradition and finery and impractical unless they needed to be. Contrarily, everyone she saw seemed content to dress in little. Only one layer, perhaps two if there was a chill in the air.

 In thin shirts without the fanciful embroidery and decor that Tori and her people favored. The clothes were not tailored to fit everyone, save those like her husband who had some type of giant blood within their veins.

 Even dressed down as much as they had, the pair of them still stuck out. Thought the people had grown used to her handmaidens, and hardly looked at them while they walked past.

 The fruit stands in the market avoided bitter things like lemons, limes, grapefruits and ashberries. The bakers were clearly the busiest, and the most popular. They had tarts and fluffy croissants, and breads swirled with cheese and cinnamon and strawberries. They smelled wonderful.

 And Tori couldn’t eat any of it.

 She and Madelle walked arm in arm away from the aptly names Sifters Street and turned a corner down Bolt Row. Here she found the cloth shops and the merchants. But they were not tailors.

 She eyed them in passing. A loom house emulated the steady clacking of a shuttle. One shop boasted long rolls of colors of only the more muted, natural colors. Greys, browns, greens, blues, oranges and yellows. Some were striped, some were plain.

 Those were only two though. A few steps forwards revealed something that Tori hadn’t seen in a lifetime.

 A real, honest to god, clothes off the rack boutique.

 Tori dragged Madelle in immediately. T shirts. Shorts, skirts, tank tops, name brand, cheap, manufactured clothes. Tori ran her fingers across a scarf that was rough enough to catch on the grooves of her fingers. She inspected a pre-patterned shirt that she didn’t have to spend half an hour standing still for.

 Her excitement bubbled. She had forgotten how much she missed simple things. Easy, modern things that she’d never paid two thoughts to before she’d died and come here. She started grabbing clothes and inspecting them, trying to figure out her size. She’d almost missed the bull shit involved in shopping for womens clothes!

 She grabbed colorful t shirts and a couple of tank tops, to Madelle scandal and flushed face. And jeans. She’s missed jeans so much.

 Tori left Madelle behind while she changed. Trying on jeans for the first time in twenty years. They were rough against her soft skin, not worn in yet and tight. She switched to a bigger pair, and then a tank top.

 When she looked into the mirror in the changing room she felt more like her old self. She felt less stifled, less restricted, and more free. There weren’t a half dozen layers or a particular lay for the fabric. This was just clothes. She was just a girl.

 Tori grinned at herself in the mirror and was surprised by her own reflection. Even dressed in common clothes she was beautiful.

 She changed back into her blue and blacks and went to buy her new stuff.

 “This is hardly worthy to touch your skin,” Madelle told her as they left. Tori grasped her hand and tucked her hand to her side.

 “Mad, dear heart, I like them. And if I’m to be here, I might as well enjoy what I can. I’ll buy you some too, if you want.”

 Madelle ‘harrumphed’ but did not pull her hand away.

 Tori, grinning, lead the way back to the chateau.  

 The night was cool and dark.

 Tori said nothing to anyone before she snuck away from her room, did not rouse her handmaids from their slumber to accompany her where she was going. There was no need. The Chateau was asleep, quiet as could be. Not even the small talking mice stirred as she slipped out the kitchen.

 She traded her fine silk slippers for thick leather sandals and set out into the forest that surrounded the amalgamated building. Everyday she could see more and more of it being eaten up by the sugar themed.

 It was harder to see in the black shadows of the night. The donut that made up the mountain and overlooked Komugi was fast asleep, it’s massive eyes shut as well as its mouth. The sun was vanished and only a small crescent made up the moon, a cheshire grin in the black sky.

 The shoreline was not precisely close, but it was close enough for her to reach by foot. Far off in the dark waters she could see the barest silhouettes of a few small ships anchored off the ghost, lit by lights within the cabins. To ensure that no one got in or out without Big Mom’s permission, she was sure.

 Tori looked away from them.

 She walked down the shore until she was standing at the edge of the water. It lapped at her toes and reached across the leather straps until it was at her ankles. She stepped in until she was calf deep in the water.

 What little light there was vanished when she closed her eyes. She took a deep breath, drawing the damp air and the salt into her lungs. The lap of the water on the shoreline drowned out all worldly distractions. The darkness left her floating in an abyss of the sea and the sea alone.

 Her soft skin chilled under the oceans care.

 Imperia had old myths about the ocean.

 The Ocean was the mother of everything and everyone. She and her wife the Moon watched over the world, and the people beneath it. The humans were the children of the Ocean and the Sun, who was brother to the Moon. Eons ago, after their children were born Ocean left Sun to be with his sister. Split between them, the humans were given to Earth to be raised and protected and raised along with Earth’s children the plants and the animals and the precious stones. Moon and Ocean had their own children, younger than the humans they were Mermaids, Fishmen, and all the creatures in the seas.

 Tori was a daughter of the ocean and a child of the sun and in the water she felt stronger.

 She focused, humming the old nursery hymn that her mother had taught her, so very many years ago.

     Roll forth Ocean mother  

     Carry you children far  

     Shine bright moon hung o’er  

     Watch over their tepid flight  

     Bring with you, Great mother  

     The silver crashing mist  

     Protect your sons and daughters  

 Tori felt strength gather inside of her. Her soft, pale skin grew harder and darker. From Porcelain to stone to steal, but it wasn’t enough. She gather the song inside of her, she grasped the feeling of her mother’s arms around her.

 She held it tight under the warmth of the memory was too much, until it threatened to bubble over. She released it all at once and the heat rushed out of of her, away from her skin. The ocean parted around her legs, swirling with the power that flowed out of her skin.

 Tori stepped forwards and the bubble around her expanded and spread before her. Another step. The water did not touch her but if it had it would have been to her hips. She kept going until she was sure that she was in over her head. Only then did she turn back. She spread her arms around and the water churned and swirled around her, parting until she was standing on dry land once more. Sand scattered along with the water until she finally, finally released it.

 Her breath came easier. The warmth rushed out of her and left her feeling cold in her dampened nightgown.

 When her eyes opened, she realized she was not alone.

 Katakuri stood at the edge of the forest, where the greenery fell away to sand and sage. He was tall, hulking shadow and his eyes were locked upon her. Tori felt bare before him, no make up, no fanciful dressed. Her hair hung around her in waves as black as the ocean.

 “I thought you were asleep,” she said slowly, for lack of anything else she could think of.

 He looked between her and the ocean, one to the other, before he settled upon her.

 “I thought you might be leaving.”

 She didn’t know what to think of the tone of his voice. There wasn’t one, and she couldn’t read him at all. But there was no anger or malice.

 Tori shook her head. “I am your wife. If I go I go with you. You are coming with us back to Imperia next week, aren’t you?”

 He nodded, slowly. “Mama told me to.”

 Tori wasn’t sure why her stomach sunk so fast. She lifted her chin, gifted him with a smile that had no false, laid upon lips, and walked into the trees. She was aware he was following her this time.