#must be right? he did get it from johann after all

[eemoo1o-tfrmoo]

Do you think Tuffnut needing to give up Macey is symbolic of their relationship with Johann ending?

[piareia]

The Fire Tides Chapter 3: Meetings to a Close

Hey guys! Sorry for the long wait, I've just started uni so we're kind of in the process of adjusting to everything. Chapter 3 was getting too long, especially with all the dialogue, so this was a bit of a hard write. Hope you guys enjoy it!

The respective chiefs began to gather around the table, finding their places and getting seated. Some were holding mead, some sharpening their axes and others gossiping about other tribes (the Berkian tribe was the main topic, for obvious reasons).

Hiccup started shuffling his papers, going over his notes and checking on each point he was going to bring up within this meeting. He knew that his main proposal would arise some issues amongst the other chiefs, but he had to persuade them somehow. In fact, he was determined to do everything in his power to assure some form of provocative agreement was made.

Reaching out to the arm of his chair, he moved his eyes from the papers to the seat. He eyed it with unease. A wise and powerful leader once sat in that very seat, with a reputation of honour and pride and admiration from all of the chieftains. Now, remaining empty and desolate, it was to be filled with the risible workings of a young and inexperienced boy.

Hiccup sighed and sat down. The place looked very impressive – whoever was leading the meeting sure had stockpiles of gold in their pockets. With dim-lit candles crowded on the table and stringed lanterns gleaming with the apricot glow of fireworms, the hall held a disposition of incandescence, slowly, yet reassuringly, pulling in all of the leaders to have an enlightened and engaging communal discussion.

“Brother!”

“Aah!”

Hiccup was met with a vigorous hug, banging his head to the back of the chair and causing the dislocation of his two shoulder bones.

“Oh, look at you! After all this time!”, Dagur laughed ecstatically, squeezing Hiccup’s cheeks together, “I must say, brother, I am loving the new look! Hmm, the jacket really does bring out those Hiccupy biceps and did you get a new haircut?! Wow! You are looking as dashing as ever!”

“U-um, D-Dugur, you-” Hiccup tried to speak with his face being squeezed to the likes of a puffer fish.

“Oh Brother, I think it’s best you don’t take away Hiccup’s oxygen supply before the discussion starts,” Heather walked towards the two with a growing smile.

“Oh! Sis, you’re right!” Dagur took a step back, “Sorry! Sorry! Just very happy to see you, Brother!”

Hiccup let out a sharp breath and plunged downwards after being released from his death grip,

 “S-Same here. Hehe, my cracked ribs and broken cheekbones are happy to see you too!”

Toothless warbled, prodding to his rider in worry as he glared at Hiccup’s attempts to restore his breathing.

“Hey T!” Dagur leaped at his head, “New tail? Looks awesome!”

“Hiccup, we heard about what happened. We’re so sorry. We were planning to fly over to Berk a long time ago but some things got in the way and-” Heather looked at Hiccup, apologetically.

“N-no, no! It’s fine, honestly. I’m okay now, somewhat at least,” Hiccup gave a solemn smile, petting Toothless, “It’s great to see the two of you though, how have things been over at your end?”

“Much better since the days of Johann and Viggo,” Heather replied, “We’ve been training new Berserker riders, so something like that doesn’t happen again.”

“Yep, we may have borrowed some of the A-Team’s counter-productive methods…” said Dagur, sheepishly.

Hiccup laughed, “Not sure how Astrid’s going to take that, but if it helps the island, then –”

“Speaking of which, where is Astrid?” asked Heather, curiously, “And the other riders?”

“They should be at the back somewhere, on the other table,” said Hiccup.

“Have fun!” Dagur quickly whispered in her ear before she left, “Remember, Fishlegs is the kindest Viking in the entire Archipelago. I’m sure he’ll understand, sis.”

Heather looked at him doubtfully, slowly walking off to the riders as the meeting between the chiefs began.

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

The meeting was signalled to a start as a tall and pretentious man walked towards his seat, causing a disperse in conversation amongst the fellow Vikings. He was a chief in his fifties, perhaps the eldest of them all, with a robust and sturdy stride echoing his wise demeanour. The glow of the fireworm lanterns transmitted an orange glint into his eyes, reflecting a look of power and prudence as he opened his mouth to start speaking.

His face seemed to resemble Eret’s.

“A warm welcome to all of you,” he smiled, “Chief Aries of the Axehorders Tribe, Chief Isire of the Volsungs Tribe, Chief Sebastian of the Mercenary Tribe, Chief Dagur of the-”

“Berserker Tribe! The best and the greatest!” Dagur exclaimed, throwing his hands on the table.

The chiefs sighed in unison.

“Thank you for that, Dagur.”

Hiccup giggled quietly. Some things never changed, huh?

“And our youngest leader, Chief Hiccup of the Berkian Tribe,” he turned to him with a smile.

“Er y-yes!”

“I believe I ought to introduce myself to you all,” the elder rubbed his hands together, “I am Eret, Father of Eret, retired dragon trapper, now enlisted within the trading business. Our tribe mainly tends to deal with the sources of fish now, especially in the east coast.”

So the facial resemblance was no coincidence. This was Eret’s father?

“Now with the introductions completed, I believe we should head to the points of discussion. Who would like to –”

“I believe my brother would like to go first! He has got quite a lot he wishes to disclose in this meeting,” Dagur smirked at Hiccup, nudging his elbow.

Hiccup let out a sigh, quickly scanning his papers again for reassurance.

“Very well. Chief Hiccup, if you would like to start us off,” Eret’s father gestured to him with his open palm.

“R-right! Okay, erm,” Hiccup looked at the other respective chiefs, glaring back at him with a sense of unspoken vulgarness, “I believe that the dragons have been such a huge change for all of us, good and bad. And to prevent the bad from happening, I guess it’s a process of consistently protecting and training them in order for us to live in harmony. With Toothless as the alpha, that procedure can be easier for us so –”

“Can you just get to the point, boy?” Chief Aries tapped his fingers impatiently.

“I would like to propose the task of opening up Berk’s borders to all dragons in need.”

All of the chiefs slammed their fists on the table.

“Outlandish idea!”

“Preposterous!”

“Stoick would never do such a thing!”

Hiccup had expected this reaction, thankfully he had mentally prepared himself for such comments.

“Enough!” Eret’s father placed his hands on the table, “Let him speak.”

Dagur gave Hiccup a reassuring look, placing his hand on his shoulder.

“Go on, Brother."

This wasn’t going to be easy.

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

Heather walked over to the back table, smiling as Astrid gestured her to come and sit with them.

“Long time, no see!” Astrid exclaimed, hugging Heather tightly, “How have things been with your crazy Berserker brother?”

“Luckily Berserker Island hasn’t burned down yet!” Heather laughed and gave Astrid a knowing smirk, “And how about you and your heroic, unassuming dragon-rider? Will I get to be a bridesmaid soon?”

“W-what?! Oh gods no! We’re just a couple!” Astrid shaked her head, “Quite a long way to go till that happens.”

“Really?” Eret smirked, “That’s not what Hiccup tells me…”

“Please ignore him, he’s had too many drinks and clearly needs to see a healer,” Astrid slapped Eret’s head.

“Eret, Son of Eret,” he reached out his hand to Heather, “I’ve only had a cup of mead, quite the responsible man I am.”

“Heather,” she shook his hand, smiling back, “I’ll try to believe that!”

“I’ve finally got it! My yak butter parfait!” yelled Snotlout, punching his fist in the air.

Snotlout, Fishlegs and the twins came running with mead and food, with suspicious yells echoing from behind them.  

“So, are we stealing his yak butter parfait again?” Tuffnut whispered to his sister.

“Shh! We need to stick to the plan, bro. Distract and infiltrate,” replied Ruffnut.

“Per-fait,” Tuffnut snickered, “Did you see what I did there, sis? I mixed perfect and parfait together to create a miscellaneous response.”

“One may say, yak-cellent!”

“Guys, I told you to pay for those!” Fishlegs pointed at the handful of fruit buns in the twins hands, “The owner will probably kick the two of you out if he sees you! Be careful-”

Fishlegs’ eyes widened as he caught a glimpse of a familiar face from his Edge days. It was Heather, she was smiling at Eret. He could never forget that smile, no matter how far apart they were, that smile would be engrained within his brain till he reached his end in Valhalla. She seemed different now, much more content and stabilised, almost as if she had finally found a form of peace after so many years of being without it.

He approached the two with a smile. Heather glanced at him, wide-eyed, attempting to hide her worries away by putting on a quick smile too.

Astrid darted her eyes between the two, deciding it was best to leave them alone.

“Alright, guys! I think it’s time we put Eret’s gag reflex to the test. Anyone want to take him on?”

“You bet!” Snotlout jumped out of his seat, “That guy has nothing on me!”

“We’re up to it too!” Ruffnut yelled, quickly whispering in Tuffnut’s ear, “Distract and infiltrate.”

“Right! Per-fait!” Tuffnut exclaimed, giggling as they followed behind Snotlout.

“I’d love to see you all suffer terribly with the high doses of mead you’re about to consume,” Eret sighed as the three headed to the bar.

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

“Opening our borders to all dragons will be the best thing for all of us. The more wild dragons we aid, the less of a threat they’ll be to Vikings, hence it’ll be easier for us to build the utopia of human and dragon-”

“How would you deal with overpopulation?” Eret’s father questioned.

“That’s the same thing with Vikings, isn’t it? We’ll just simply expand our base.” Hiccup stated confidently.

“And what about food supply? If there are more dragons over at your end, you’ll require more fish. The other tribes would suffer.”

“Not necessarily. We’ll just outsource fish from the original areas that the dragons used to collect them from.”

“And what about issues with migration? Having all of those dragons fly over to Berk can cause disruptions in the other tribes transportation routes.”

“We can redirect the migration routes based on the days when the other tribes are travelling.”

Hiccup had been arguing about this same topic, for over an hour. If anything, he was getting more irritated by the second. How could they not simply understand? Building this human and dragon utopia was always the goal from the very start. Did these dumbfounded Vikings think that only a selection of dragons were allowed to live amongst them?

The more he thought about it, the more he felt like he was talking to a wall. It was worse than explaining dragon theory to the twins.

“Listen. We can work our way around all of these things,” Hiccup tried to stay calm, “I’ll make sure no trouble comes to the other tribes. You have my solemn word on that.”

“I understand,” Eret’s father looked at Hiccup, concentratedly, “There’s one more thing I wanted to ask you.”

“Go on.”

“How will you deal with those who do not wish to live in the same world you dream of? Dragon trappers? Dragon hunters?”

Hiccup was beginning to lose his patience, “Drago’s gone. Viggo’s gone. Johann’s gone. Their operations have been obliterated to the ends of the archipelago.”

“And what if another dragon hunting operation is reconstructed? What would you-”

“If another dragon hunting operation is rebuilt, we’ll destroy it. It’s not like we haven’t done it before,” Hiccup sighed, scratching Toothless’ head.

“And you’d be satisfied doing that continuously? Devoting your entire life to dragons? Living in a continuous process of war?”

“I-”

“Hiccup. I’ve heard so much about you, the young boy who dared to ride a dragon, with that dragon being a night fury out of all dragons. The boy who outwitted the Grimborns. The boy who defeated Drago. You’re intelligent, Hiccup. Very intelligent. However, you lack experience. You fail to realise that this process is a long one. One of a lifetime. And one day, when you grow old, become weak and fragile, would you still be able to hold up a sword against a dragon hunter? This idea, whilst it is a beautiful one, I fear that we cannot always change the world to how we wish. Sometimes, it’s best to leave the world be, and if it changes by itself, then we let it change.”

“I completely disagree with you there, Eret,” Hiccup remarked with a solid force, “Living in a world that is not what we desire for? Leaving it to become rotten as the days go by? That can’t happen. I can’t let that happen!”

“Hiccup. Please listen to me, ” Eret’s father spoke softly, “You aspire for change. And you’ve done so much. But some things cannot be shaped, no matter how hard we try. You can fix one thing, then another thing will arise. The world is too cruel for us to keep rebuilding it.”

He failed. He couldn’t do it. They just weren’t going to listen.

“Fine,” Hiccup stood up, “Live in your cruel world.”

With Toothless following his rider, Hiccup walked out of the hall in silence and dismay, slowly disappearing into the dark of the night.

And that's Chapter 3! I really wanted to show how fixed Hiccup is with his dream of building the ultimate dragon utopia at this point. Both arguments are valid in my opinion, but I feel sorry for our boy Hiccup here, he's quite relatable for a lot of us really!

Be ready for Chapter 4, the conversation between Heather and Fishlegs, Eret and his Father, Astrid consoling Hiccup etc! Chapter 5 should begin the start of the main plot of the Fire Tides :)

Also this will be uploaded on Ao3 soon, just trying to sort my account out :)

@rosiethedragongeek @sorushing @limesandcoconuts

[bluberimufim]

Find the Word tag

I was tagged by @stesierra (see her find words here), so let's go! My words were sympathy, cruel, kind, and rough.

Sympathy

The two siblings didn't take long to get used to the circus. In truth, it was as if they had been born to be there, dancing and spinning among its tents. To them, the work was as natural and comfortable as breathing. They couldn't imagine themselves without it. August found that Johann was actually a great person, all sympathy and grace. He couldn't even believe he'd once thought he was just like Nikolaus. He saw it was impossible now.

Cruel

He took a deep breath, laying his hands flat on his desk to stop them from shaking. He tried to look her in the eyes. "I want a divorce." Barbara looked at him with an undecipherable expression. "May I know why?" Had he been too cruel in his declaration? Should he have opened with something else? "Because I found someone. And I want to be with her." "Someone? She must be very special to make you void this marriage..." "Why do you say that?" "The Johann I knew wouldn't go against his parents' wishes if it saved his life. You were so obsessed with their plan that you couldn't even see what was in front of you. Who is she?" "It's Anna. Vogelmann."

Kind

"I don't need to inform you of all my hobbies. Besides, you should already know. I do card tricks all the time." Hugo searched through his memories, looking for times in which Darius had performed any kind of magic for him. He remembered, some months ago, that he'd bought a new card deck, which had increased his excitement towards the subject. He remembered seeing him doing strange but fascinating things with those cards, something he'd interrupt him with while he was reading the newspaper in the evenings. Just like now. He also had a memory, although rather distant, of Darius doing a magic show in one or two bars the two frequented. "Ah, yes... you're right... But why now? Why didn't you pursue this career before becoming a tailor's apprentice?" "Well... I didn't think it would pay very well. I was scared I wouldn't find a job. besides, I never had a chance." Hugo arched an eyebrow. "And you have a chance now?"

(I want you all to know that, in this discussion, Darius is saying the equivalent of "I can become Gordon Ramsey's sous chef with 0 cooking experience on my resume and I WILL", and Hugo is telling him that no, he can't) (spoiler alert: he did)

Rough

(this is another encounter with the Man in Black and White! Hooray!!!)

He walked quickly, but only because his legs were extremely long. In truth, his gait was slow and relaxed, as if the sway of his patchwork cloak was setting the rhythm of a lullaby. Even so, the distance between them seemed to be widening. No matter how much she walked, she couldn't catch up to him. In a moment of strength, she jumped ahead and reached out her hand. After grasping at empty air, her fingers met something solid. She caught him, feeling a rough fabric brush against her hand. She stopped walking. He did too. She'd grabbed his cloak. Between her fingers, she was holding a fistful of his cloak. She was so close she could almost see the individual threads and stitches. She was breathless. She didn't know what to do. It was then that he turned around. It was slow, as if the movement had been slowed down a thousand times until it became impossible. And he stared at her. He looked at her with his endless eyes and she looked into them, inside of them. His black and white mask held no expression, but she felt there was fury hiding behind it, born from the pits of darkness that were his eyes. He tilted his head, as if examining her, dissecting every part of her being to see what was inside. He stretched his hand towards hers and removed it from his patchwork cape. Then, he disappeared into the streets.

Ooooh this was my favourite Find the Word so far! I just really like the snippets I ended up with!

Anyway, I'm going to gently tag @squarebracket-trick, @sm-writes-chaos, and @words-after-midnight. Your words are dangerous, rain, knowledge, and skip.

[sanchoi21]

The Mysterious Father

Ikemen Vampire Johann Faust x Reader

Warnings: Contains spoilers of Faust route. Fluff and comfort.

Today too you went to old Church in the evening. The inviting silence and dim candle lights always calmed your mind down after a long day at mansion. You loved the mansion's residents, as they always took care of you and were like a family to you by now. But you still missed the old days when you were in your timeline, working as a travel blogger. After all it was your favorite job, which you couldn't do anymore. When you were going to return to 21st century the door had broken for some reason and you were still stuck here. No matter how beautiful and good your life was here, you still missed your hometown and family. Church was the only place which gave you similar vibes to your hometown Church where you used to go as a kid with your parents.

Coming to the old Church had two reasons, one, it was quite in evening and no one disturbed you, two, the priest was a handsome man, Faust, to whom you had grown a crush for. Seeing you seated on one of the benches, Faust glanced at you from aisle. His gaze was sharp, a gaze which can see right through your soul and existence. Seeing that sad look on your face for the nth time, he approached you.

Faust: What's wrong kid? You seem quite upset today.

Y/n: Father... It's just that I miss my family and hometown a lot. I can't go there for now atleast.

Faust: That must be really sad.. But atleast you have something to miss for...

Y/n: What do you mean Father??

Faust: I'll tell you a story. There was a boy who lost his everything at a very young age. He also lost the only person whom he used to call family. What do you think he did after that??

Y/n: He lived on with the pain forever in his heart.

Faust: Exactly! That's just how life works. It's never fair with anyone. That's why we should live on and make the most of it while it lasts. Missing someone will only give you pain. If you think about it, then your parents won't like you being sad, so stop being sad for that reason, as they are always with you, because you yourself are a proof of their existence. Never forget that, child.

Hearing Faust's words brought a sense of relief and comfort over you. No one has ever told you anything like that. His words were harsh yet beautiful making you let go of all your emotions which you had bottled up since your arrival here. Your emotions flowed through your eyes in crystalline tears. All this time you couldn't bring yourself to cry or let loose in front of mansion's residents as it might have worried them a lot. But now here you are crying in front of the Priest, who you don't even know well still you feel quite attached to him.

As your tears continued to flow, Faust just stared at you astonished by the fact, that how can anyone be so delicate, fragile, weak nothing like himself. But deep inside he somewhere saw his own broken image in you, which had him be interested in you since very beginning.

As he saw you cry he couldn't help but got on his knees to get to your eye level and he gently wiped your tears with his handkerchiff. He himself wondered why he did that. It was so unlike him to care for a stranger, but here he was, caring for you and adoring you. Once you had calmed down, you looked at him in the eyes and smiled widely.

Y/n: Thankyou so much Father. I feel much lighter now. Thanks for guiding me.

Faust: Just call me Faust. Everyone calls me Father so that would be a good change. What's your name?

Y/n: Sure, F-Faust. My name is Y/n.

Faust: So Y/n, would you like to come with me for dinner now??

Y/n: Sure!! I would love to.

Saying this, Faust guided you out of Church and as you walked beside him, you noticed just how tall he was compared to you. You both walked in the moon night as he took you to a small cabin in a forest. You assumed it was his home or hide out spot for his other activities. Once you entered the cabin, you were instantly surrounded by a warm smell of firewood and books. It was an old cabin but it had a comforting warmth to it.

Faust told you to sit on couch till he cooked something to eat. You were genuinely surprised to know that he could cook, so instead of sitting idly you offered to help. While talking over somethings here and there Faust was slowly opening up to you, but he kept his deepest secrets hidden because he didn't want a stranger to know his true self. You indeed were interesting to him as you always fought your problems head on and hoped even though it was futile sometimes according to him, but he was still quite skeptical about his interest in you, as he dismissed the thought by thinking you will be a good guinea pig for his experiments later on.

You both cooked dinner and ate it. It was indeed delicious, for that matter, more delicious than what Sebestian made at the mansion. You carefreely ate the dinner giving compliments to Faust about how good it was. Faust looked at you with a frown and said,

Faust: Y/n...You know, you shouldn't eat something given by a stranger??

Y/n: But you are no stranger!! I see you every day at Church. Plus we have talked many times before and I know you wouldn't slip something in my food.

Faust: And how are you so sure about that??

Y/n: Because I just know it. You are a kind man Faust. I know you wouldn't do something like that.

Faust: How come I am kind??

Y/n: I have seen you give medicine to sick and poor.

Faust: Look, that's just because I had to test my new medicine, you know I am an alchemist!!

Y/n: Still, for me me it's a kind gesture. You even play with kids in your free time.

Faust: No I don't!! They just come to bother me anyway.

Y/n: Haa ha.... But you still entertain them.

Faust: You don't understand, do you??

Y/n: Ohh! One more reason why I come everyday to Church.

Faust: Yeah, and what it is??

Y/n: To see you, of course!! You are too handsome to resist!!

Faust: W-WHAT???

Y/n: Oh Father!! Have you never received any compliments?? It's true that you are very handsome, the first time I saw you I was stunned. You looked ethereal as if you didn't belong to this world!!

Faust: Hey kid, you know it's rude to flirt with the priest?!! Thanks for the compliments though.

Y/n: You talk as if you are way older than me!!

Faust: Of course I am!! I look young but I am quite older than you.

Y/n: I guess the I should call you grandpa!!

Saying this you started laughing. Faust's stunned expression was worth it. He playfully smacked you on head saying," Hey I am not grandpa!!". You both laughed at each other for a while before eventually calming down.

Faust: That was quite a great laugh I had in a while. Thankyou Y/n...

Y/n: Thanks to you too, Faust.. My mind is very much at ease now.

Faust: It's late, you can stay here if you want. Or I'll walk you back to your home.

Y/n: Thanks but just get me to a carriage. I'll go by myself after that. Don't wanna trouble you any longer Father..

Faust: Ok but it's late, so I'll drop you at your home and then take the same carriage back here. No arguments.

Y/n: Fine...

You and Faust walked till where you could find a carriage. After you both sat in the carriage, you told the driver your address and had a nice chat with Faust. Once you got down at front of the mansion, you waved to him and entered inside the mansion only to be greeted by worried Sebastian and other residents. To whom you lied and said that the Church prayers lasted a bit longer so your friend dropped you off. Everyone calmed down after seeing that you were safe. You returned to your bedroom feeling high, on the thought of Faust and the time you both spent together. You wished to meet him soon again tomorrow. He was such an interesting and mysterious person, it left you yearning for more.

Faust pov

She lives here?? Mansion of Le Comte?? Ohh so this is the girl that Lord Vlad had told us about. The infamous time traveller. But she is indeed different and too carefree for her own good. Hehehe... She's interesting. Indeed she will be a good guinea pig for my experiments. Hope to meet you soon, Y/n...

[crystallizedkingdoms]

Crescendo

day 4 of @johann-appreciation-week! today is a Little Fang fic. to those who may not know, Little Fang is a goth rock band au. the band, Little Fang, consists of Lup as lead singer, Kravitz as main guitar, Johann as bassist, Sloane as the keyboardist, and Ren as the drums. Avi is a gaming streamer who moves into the Fangs' house unknowing of their popularity.

you can also read this on ao3 <3

“I can’t go on there, Sloane.”

The cracks in the concrete steps outside the venue could swallow Johann up if they wanted to. Staring right into the mysterious, dark depths, he hopes that they do. 

“You don’t have to. I’ll cover for you,” Sloane says. She is sitting right next to Johann, long legs bent awkwardly on those concrete steps. She knows she sounds stupid when she says something like that, but it doesn’t stop her from saying it. 

Johann hangs his head down and runs his fingers through his scalp. He wants to pull out his curls and disappear right there. “I’m almost desperate enough to believe you can do something like that.”

“Wow, you didn’t even call me an asshole this time. You must be really stressed.”

“I am!! I am and I hate it,” Johann stomps the heel of his boot against a small pebble on one of the concrete steps. He realizes immediately how ugly and childish it must look to see a grown man stomping against the ground like that. He crosses his arms over his chest and growls to himself. “I feel like, fuck, I feel the same way I did on our first show. That’s fucked up, isn’t it?”

The sharp features of Sloane’s face soften under the warm, incessantly buzzing light bulb from above the venue’s doorway. Johann thinks he might just claw her face off for daring to give him that look. Which is dumb, of course, Sloane’s his friend. That fact is so apparent when she hands him a braided, leather necklace cord. It’s a ritual the two of them started, way back in their beginning years. When Johann had these fits more openly. 

Sloane fiddles with the buttons of her fingerless gloves, saying, “Johann, if you’re feeling that bad, we can delay the show. No one’s going to shoot you for it.”

“No, no, we can’t,” Johann shakes his head and bites on the cord, shaking and biting it real hard in hopes that it’ll get all the anxious energy out of him, “I can’t delay the show because I’m… acting up, or whatever.”

“What’s bothering you this time, then?”

Explaining it would feel like needles being jabbed through his tongue. The light above them beats down on Johann’s skin and exposes him to the dark, lively night waiting to tear him apart. Still, he has to say something. Has to explain himself and be vulnerable again. Isn't that just the best part of having bandmates?

“It’s… everything,” Johann hisses out. “It’s the buzzing of electricity, the smell of alcohol and weed mixed with sweaty leather, bright lights and the taste of my own mouth and the sound of my own bass and it’s— it's him. I know, it’s stupid, I haven’t had these issues with our venues in, like, forever, but— something about the stress and everything about it is killing me and making me even more sensitive—”

“Wait a minute,” Sloane says. Her voice is stern and curt. “Who’s ‘him’?”

Oh, great. Johann stares at the cracks in the concrete steps even more intensely than before. “It’s nothing. I don’t know why I said that. Let’s go on stage.”

“No, now you have to tell me. Who the hell can make you act like this?”

“It’s not just him! I’m not that pathetic. It really is the whole sensory thing, but it’s— it’s also, ugh, the idea that this is the first time he’s going to what we are and what I’m singing about and he’s gonna act so different around me I can tell he will and I don’t want Avi to do that— wait, fuck.”

“Oh. This is about Avi, huh?”

There it is. 

Johann throws himself up onto his feet, almost falling off the stairs. He can almost imagine the scene: Little Fangs’ Rockport show cancelled after the bassist eats absolute shit on concrete and completely smashes his teeth to bits while freaking out over his roommate who wears cat-ear headphones finding out they actually were, in fact, a popular band and not some garage project anymore. Yeah, that would make headlines.

Thankfully, Johann catches himself, and swiftly tosses that thought away to head towards the door. “Forget I said anything. I’m not thinking straight. Let’s just go out there and pretend nothing happened, okay?”

Sloane doesn’t get up. She just sits there and cranes her neck to the side to stare at him with furrowed brows and a knowing look in her eye. “If you want that, that’s fine by me, but that just means you’re gonna have to confront this fear of yours head on without any good advice,” she says.

Johann could say something terribly mean about the quality of Sloane’s advice. He almost does. Like a cornered cat, ready to scratch and bite at the one offering safety. He does manage to keep his mouth shut and forces himself to stay put and listen to Sloane.

“Finally. Look, I don’t entirely get what your relationship is with Avi right now. I think it’s obvious, though, that our last few rehearsals have had a new song with lyrics that are so infuriatingly clear it’s about him that it’s been driving me insane that no one else in the band has mentioned it! The fact that it’s taken him this long to recognize it means he might not even realize it now.” Sloane stresses her words very carefully, saying her assurances in a way that don’t necessarily mock anyone, but clearly voices her frustration. Johann’s a little envious of her ability to do that.

“But if he does manage to get the meaning through his skull in this performance, well, what’s the problem? He gets it and he asks you about it after the show. You two talk it out, make out, whatever,” Sloane says, smirking at that last part. “What’s the big deal?”

“Well, um… Avi’s just been a little afraid of what would happen if this whole thing got out, y’know? If that’s gonna change how people interact with us. If it’ll change our relationship.” Johann’s hands are trembling and he runs the toe of his black boots against the cracks of the stairs, but a weight is lifted off his shoulders when he says this. “He barely listens to our rehearsals, you know that. He’s gonna listen when we’re up there, though. That’s always how it’s been with him.”

Sloane sighs and kicks herself up onto her feet. Her long hair sways gently in spring’s night breeze. “If this is such an issue for you guys, then why did you write that song? Why did you pitch it to the band? Why did you go through all of this if this is freaking both of you out?” she asks.

“I didn’t know this was an issue for him when I did it. He brought it up when I had already written it all. He assumed I felt the same, when it’s barely an issue for me! I’ve already had my share of dating drama with Kravitz and Brian—” Johann stops himself to raise his hands to his head and take a few deep breaths. “And… and I can’t just give up that song. I can’t give up the things I write anymore. I’m done with doing that. Isn’t that what you guys begged for me to start doing last year?”

“Not if you think it’ll stress your boyfriend out so badly,” Sloane groans and rubs the bridge of her nose. Johann has to try and stifle the immediate, instinctual refusal he’s had towards the word ‘boyfriend’ for quite some time, because really, what else could they possibly be at this point? “But I guess you got a point. It’s not even a guarantee anyone other than people who are in our circle will figure it out. I shouldn’t beat you up over that.”

Johann doesn’t smoke much anymore, but suddenly he finds himself craving one. “I think it’s less the idea of random crowds figuring out our relationship and more just the whole idea of me… making this whole thing real. By immortalizing my feelings in song. Sending it out into the world. I can’t take that back, you know?” he says. His voice grows a little louder as he throws his head back for some more air, “Our relationship is here now and I’m shoving it out there! Nothing can fall through the cracks once I get on that damn stage.” 

As he says that, both Johann and Sloane’s phones buzz in their pockets. Few minutes left ‘til the show starts. Lup’s probably freaking out. Johann thinks he might collapse then and there. “It’s too late to be quiet now, huh?” Johann mutters to himself. “Just gotta suck it up and get up there.”

Sloane bites the inside of her cheek, nice and hard. The two stand next to each other in silence, only the drone of the light bulb above them, and their ragged breaths. Eventually, she says, “You’re right, dude, it might be too late to be quiet now. You might’ve backed yourself into a corner this time.” 

“Haha, very comforting.”

Sloane ignores the sarcasm and places her hand on Johann’s shoulder. It’s light enough on his body that it doesn’t make all his senses go haywire, like they usually do when someone touches him in this state. “That just means you gotta get it together and play louder. Get onstage and really put your heart out for him. Show him that you’re not afraid to put the truth of you two out there. Someone’s got to be brave. Be brave for him.”

Johann doesn’t feel brave. Not when the world feels like it’s attacking him, not when there’s a restless energy filling him to the brim and waiting to burst out in some ugly fashion. Not when he’s so scared of Avi’s reaction.

But… oh, how powerful Johann feels when he’s onstage. Where the noises and voices of the plenty drown under his own loud music. Johann can be brave there, if nowhere else.

“Or, um, whatever. I don’t know. I’m not built for this kind of talk,” Sloane says, playing with the ends of her hair. 

“No, you’re right,” Johann says with a shaky breath. His heart is pounding in his ears, the light bulb is audibly flickering, and the cracks on the ground seem so much larger. “You’re right, Sloane. So, let's tear that stage up.”

Everything is so loud, but Johann can get louder. 

[thetruearchmagos]

The Commonwealth Calls

An Excerpt: Woodland Greens

This was... interesting, to write! I've been hoping to do something for one of my first and favourite OCs for a while, though this isn't quite as "good" as I would've liked? Whatever it is like to me, I'd love to hear what you all think of it!

Tagging @lividdreamz @dogmomwrites @marinesocks @sanguine-arena @athenswrites @ceph-the-ghost-writer @theprissythumbelina @thatndginger @jamieanovels @the-stray-storyteller @muddshadow

The night was cold, and the forest ate the noise until it was as quiet as a tomb.

Lieutenant Gustav Johann Schmidt could hear his heart pound in his chest, the leaves crunching under his boots with each slow step across the foliage. He was sweating despite the chill, and could feel it seeping through his facepaint. Creeping low through the woods with his rifle at his shoulder, looking to either side through low-light goggles he could almost make out the green-tinted apparitions that made up the soldiers of his 1st Platoon, all moving with similar silence. They had been moving through the woods for about ten minutes, an agonising exercise in sheer self control, but one for which the reward was his highest calling. Victory.

Just a little further left to go, and shooting forwards Gustav flattened himself to the ground behind a low ditch, then scrambled up to see across the other side. There was the prize, the dark silhouttes of boxy armoured vehicles and concealed fighting holes that sat atop a wooded rise looking over an otherwise flat and open plain. There was a fidget every now and then, just enough movement to tell him that someone was waiting.

"Evenin' Sir, catching a good look?"

The sudden bassy voice appeared from the same empty void as its speaker, and even now the young Lieutenant couldn't quite get his head around Staff Sergeant Mandla Amadi's sheer capacity to sneak around his sizeable frame like a soft pawed kitten. The Platoon Sergeant pulled out a pair of optics, and Gustav did the same, both careful not to smudge the thin, matte coating on their lenses lest a sudden shine of the moonlight give away the game.

"Right, I call it three heavy vic's with twenty-mike guns, and about enough trench space for a dozen."

"So, just like the brief said, for once. Stick to the plan, Sarge?"

He smiled, and nodded.

"Aye sir, I'd say we'll do just fine. Poor buggers."

Gustav reached to his chest, switching on the communications rig and bringing it to his face. Mandla slipped back into the woods to tell the troops the good news in person, while across another ridge three kilometres east Sergeant Tamiko Miho switched on her vehicle's mounted comm set, buttoned up in one of the platoon's four Hoplite armoured transports.

"LOCAL, this is LEAD, Clear."

Checking her watch, she realised they were running a bit late, but that was to be expected. After popping out her hatch to sweep a look around, she replied.

"Clear On, LEAD. How's things over there?"

"Good, far as we know we're still undetected. Plan's unchanged, pick your targets and get ready to spit lead, and tell the mortars to shoot fast, Clear."

"Clear On, Sir. Have fun out there."

Flicking off the rig, Gustav then checked his watch. A slightly pricey piece from Artifi-Cal he'd bought when he received his commission, despite its luxury it did the job well enough. The time was 2315, and they were ready to move. He turned the frequency to the platoon-wide net, then gave the word.

"Red Trail."

An instant later, the forest roared to a furious life. To his right, Gustav knew one of his sections was pouring in machine gun fire, while even from this distance he could hear the heavy chugging of four twenty-five millimetre autocannons, and the deep bass of mortar fire. The defenders must have heard it too, and the hill was soon alive with movement and firing; all facing east, not into the woods.

One final signal left, courtesy of the Staff Sergeant:

THWEEEE

A brass whistle was a bit of an anachronism in the modern Army, but it served its purpose as well as it surely did a century ago. His remaing two sections surged from the tree line, joined by their commander as they made the mad fifty-metre dash across the open field. We've caught them with their pants down, Gustav thought to himself, with no small relish.

Time seemed to crawl as he ran, and it was as if he was seeing a film. To the left, his closest section had already reached the hillside, lobbing grenades and firing up the slope to cover the advance. The Hoplites had ceased firing when the boots had gotten close, but the heaving of mortars still carriedover the ---

The last thing he heard was a shrill whistle, coming from they sky and growing ever louder.

Then, nothing.

------

This kid's one seriously unlucky sonuvabitch----

As far as first words to hear after being knocked out went, Gustav thought through the haze of his mind, those weren't great.

Then, he finally thought to take a look around. He was in a room with sickly yellow wall-paper and harsh lighting, surrounded by people with concerningly wide smiles and red bands around their arms. Going from until now limited experience, Gustav deduced he was currently in the battalion medical post. Damn.

"Hardly, Doc! He's still alive, ain't he? Ah, and here he is now."

It seemed that someone had seenhim stir, and as Gustav struggled to speak a familiar face came over to block out the light. Staff Sergeant Mandla, in all his sharply and smiling cut glory.

"Mornin', Sir! Good news, we won the match last night, 2nd Platoon's stil bloody seethin' at that. Damn shame about your head though, but frankly you got off light, right Doc?"

A second figure leaned over him, this being the perpetually bleary-eyed Captain Meera Pariyar, holding a misshapen lump of green-tipped metal, with the beginnings of fins at one tapered end. So that's what did it.

"Objectively, yes. Seemed to be a grazing hit, glanced off well enough. If it hit you straight on, we'd be scooping your grey matter out of your helmet and into a bucket."

For a man still recovering from blunt force head trauma, Gustav thought he was taking all in this rather well. He tried to stand up, but Capta Pariyar held him flat.

"Absolutely not, kid. Until I say so, you are staying put. Have fun, maybe thank whatever guardian angel it is you have who's got the power to alter the path of mortar shells."

[hoghtastic]

Addendum: A friend from fandom reminded me of something. Last year in spring there was a woman he followed early in the morning after an event 😅 very very early. And she him. Alex never liked a picture though. An ex Miss Denmark contestant. Blonde, tall and big boobs. She liked his posts at the beginning and then stopped after several weeks. And in summer she posted a picture of herself in sunglasses and bikini but basically you see her boobs 😁. He liked it and then unfollowed her a week later and she unfollowed him. But as I said it was also very short. And it could have been nothing at all. Please understand everything as "girl talk" 🙏🏼 

And although I thought Johanne had an easy game, I think Alex wasn't so sure for a few months. Even though she made her Pinterest board and picked out her outfits. Sold her old wardrobe on Instagram, Alex still followed models, he hardly liked any girls since summer 22 but there were still definite likes here and there. I remember a friend sending me a screenshot of a really incredibly beautiful model he had liked. That was a few days before Paris. And we remember that one day after Paris at the Moet event he followed only one person 😅 And that was a super beautiful blonde. And it was precisely this blonde that he unfollowed after the first time he was on the carpet with Johanne, and she unfollowed him. And Corveni, let’s not forget her 🔥same story basically. 

I think some also remember his trip to Mexico with Malte and which women he followed. But he must have already had something with Johanne by then. She picked out her outfits for Paris. He unfollowed the ladies after some turmoil in the fandom.

I agree with anons that Johanne love bombed him and he thinks he has found someone who loves him. Alex's resources are dangerously useful to her. And that woman has lost NO TIME to use them. What she managed to get out if this relationship under a year is incredible. I would say Alex has no experience with serious relationships and she is just comfortable for him. But he may complement her and talk nicely about her in interviews. Personally after so many years of seeing and hearing everything I think Johanne is not his visual dream girl. He's made it pretty clear over many years what he finds beautiful. He will surely call her beautiful and what not but I think mainly he likes that she is making him feel tall and he likes that she is singing and in the industry and he enjoys the feeling of someone mothering him. Something he did must have turned a lot of girls off. My last comment is. I would be careful believing Alex interviews and comments, he is someone who always says what he thinks people want to hear and what the current cultural climate celebrates. He called himself a great liar on several occasions. That doesn’t make him a bad person but he isn’t his true self when he is in the spot light. He is so deliberate that it (him being extraordinarily deliberate in what he is saying and doing) was mentioned by a journalist in an intro of an interview.

Thank you for sharing, anon! 😊 I also believe he didn’t become steady with Johanne right away, as there were still pictures of herself and her ex-boyfriend on her IG even after she was linked to Alex. But let’s also not forget that social media is only a fragment of reality. 😊

[daedalmirage]

gantz || ch3 trial || banri || re: marigold, benkei mostly, others in narration

There’s the good, the bad, and the Johann, a flurry of impassioned statements and pleas that whizz past his head and by his ear. He brushes off the coveting of secrets. Insularity returns to Banri in these tense moments, the one where his pen audibly rattles in his hand from the rapidly declining coordination of his mind and muscle. Picking out what’s important, keeping his face impartial and unyielding. A flow state dedicated to the pursuit of what actually went down here, from which all other decisions must branch from after. Without that knowledge, how do they choose what to do, where to go forward?

No life without removing the curse. That the machinations at hand are the act of someone trying to know better, to help the rest, offer one life and make the shot the living get the best. An unacceptable line of thought, one they’re far too deep in for. The chose the lives of cowards and kindliness the moment Nina didn’t stop breathing when the trial vote came in, and they will all sit with it. Banri will see it through. The scene in his head, this trial. Whatever is real and whatever is good. So he speaks.

“Kaneto’s right. If Daisy’s account is entirely honest, then those aren’t the only things that fail to line up. If she only used the hammer to scuffle and hit Nina on her side, that still fails to account for both Nina’s head injury and the stab wound in her front. And by this point, it’s clear that the fatal one has to be the cut. Maybe the head wound could’ve stopped her from running, but only that one could keep her down. Which means we’re still out of a murder weapon for now.”

“. . . and, for what it’s worth. I can more easily believe that you’d pull the case stunt than you pulling off a killing that went this sideways.”

A dizziness threatens to take him off his train of thought. Lightheaded, if he had to guess. It must be powered through regardless. For the greater things at hand.

“To remind everybody of our subject profile, then. We’re looking for somebody who could reasonably wear a men’s medium, who typically wears wool, suit jacket, maybe, who knows. One that presumably kept the weapon used to commit the murder with them, or discarded it in a manner we did not find. One that had to have the strength to carry Nina for such a distance, dealing the blow to the head first so that she was unconscious and peaceful, then, delivering the stab wound. One that, perhaps not knowing about Manako, but surely knowing that someone, if not Daisy, had fought with their victim, and has thus far chosen to keep quiet about it.”

Not the narrowest of categories to select from. He’ll try regardless.

“If possible, can I ask what color the wool in the fire was? Or was it too charred by that point to be distinguishable? Because, as I said, our consistent suit jacket wearers in that demographic are Jesse, Tobias, and Charles, but that doesn’t necessarily rule out others with a capable build from doing it. I don’t know to what extent the three of them are capable of carrying Nina like that. On the other hand, people like Clyde, Keizo, or Koji are capable and likely within the size, but don’t necessarily match the cloth scrap.”

He shakes his head, slowly, lowly.

“So there’s got to be something I’m missing, right? Some part of this I can’t quite see. I don't. . . it's there. I know it's there, just. Where?”

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Brahms's Lullaby ~ Brahms Heelshire x Reader

Note: Why do I love Brahms? Fuck if I know. Anyway, this is what happens when a a meek, cute girl moves away from her old life to turn the page and find herself once again...And yet, her dark past quite literally comes back to haunt her.

'That's one huge manor...' Y/N thought to herself, the back of her neck straining as she scanned it from the bottom to the very top of the roof. The grip on her luggage tightened as she gulped in anxiety, and after taking a few deep breaths, she entered in this house, and immediately got greeted by the elderly woman who was the mistress of the house.

Y/N wasn't sure if it was her who was just nervous about the drastic change in her life, or if the woman was simply incredibly intimidating, but hey, as far as she was concerned, this woman won't be staying with her, so she will be all alone in the house, taking care of a child...How bad could it be?

Oh wait. Y/N hates children. They are so loud, bratty, obnoxious, entitled, rude...And the list could go on for ages, but she couldn't loiter in her mind any longer, and instead, she had to memorise where each room was, and what instructions the woman was saying.

She couldn't believe it, but she was glad she chose to wear a pair of comfortable sneakers, for she kinda got tired going up and down the manor...But what could she do anyway?

The kitchen got introduced to her, the woman told her to keep the leftovers in the freezer, told her about Malcom the delivery boy and how he's the only one allowed to bring her stuff. Weird, but what could she do? P'haps the child has a very strict routine that they must stick to, otherwise they'll feel weird and uncomfortable. Who knows?

And then, she showed her the music room, and while she wasn't paying much attention to the woman who turned on the music on the radio rather loud, Y/N looked around, inspecting the musical instruments, especially the piano, and the music sheets neatly displayed - "Brahms's Lullaby" it was called.

"Oh, is the child a fan of Johannes Brahms?" Y/N asked with a soft smile on her face, as she gently traced her fingers over the keys. "Yes, he is. In fact, the child is called Brahms." the woman spoke a bit sharply, looking her up and down with eyes that almost seemed...Judging, for some reason. "What a lovely name. When will I meet little Brahmsy?" she asked, and as soon as she used that nickname, the woman's jaw got set, and Y/N could swear she was gritting her teeth in anger at her. "...Brahms. His name is Brahms. You will meet him right now. Come on." the woman went on ahead and opened a room, where a doll was sitting in a chair, neatly dressed like a gentleman, while next to him, crouching, an elderly man, who she could only assume was the woman's husband, the master of the house. "Oh, my dear Brahms...This is Y/N, she is here to be your new nanny. Miss L/N, this us Brahms, and he will decide whether he accepts you or not." ...a doll? She...Has to babysit...A doll? Well...The pay is good, and she's veeeery far away from her old home, so...No new beginning happens within your comfort zone, right? "Hello, Brahms, it's great meeting you. I hope we'll get along well." with a sweet smile on her face, Y/N crouched down if front of the chair and took the little hand of the doll, shaking it carefully. "...Fine enough. Now, could you give us some time alone? Brahms will decide now." with that look on her face, while the old man looked at her with pity, and...Relief, maybe? Y/N exited the room, only to see a man standing in front of her, wearing an amiable smile. "Oh, hello there, you must be the new nanny. I'm Malcom, the delivery boy. Well, delivery man. Nice to meet you." very charming... "Ah, yes, I've heard about you. My name is Y/N, nice meeting you as well." she replied politely, although she could sense the flirt he was failing to put forward. "If you want, some day, I can show you around the town. It's small, but kinda pretty." he continued in the same manner, and Y/N replied with simple answers, until finally, the woman opened the door widely, with an even wider smile. "Brahms has decided that you are suitable to be his new nanny, congratulations." how the human behaviour can change so drastically, doing a whole 180, in a split second. "Thank you so much for accepting me, Brahms! I'm sure we'll get along well!" Y/N clapped her hands together to her chest in a cheerful manner, as the elder man left as well, allowing his wife some more farewell words with the doll. "Here, I made you a simplified list of rules you must follow. You don't have to wake up at 7 in the morning every day like my wife told you, but you must make sure all of these are taken care of, alright, miss L/N?" the man asked, handing her the paper which she attentively read. "Yes, of course, I will do as instructed without fail. Thank you for having trust in me with your dear Brahms. Have a lovely trip and I hope you get a well-deserved rest!" Y/N wished them, and for a split second, she almost thought the man's eyes flashed with shock and sorrow. What was going on anyway...? This family is...Peculiar, to say the least. Well, no matter, she will be paid weekly, and with the pretty generous amount she earned while working as a doctor, she should be able to afford anything she'd want, so she won't get bored.

And so, the Heelshires left, and she was all alone with the doll - Y/N decided to make her new bedroom to her liking, as much as possible, with Brahms sitting on a nightstand, as she was humming whatever tune that went in her mind, and swaying carefreely.

"You know, Brahms? I wasn't expecting you to be a doll. But frankly, I think this is better. Children are annoying...But you? You're really nice. And you're not loud or obnoxious. I think we'll be great friends." speaking to a doll...I guess that's how far in my loneliness I've gotten. Tragic, really...She thought as she realised how much of a crazy person she'd look like, were someone to see her. "Since it's already evening, let's go make some really good dinner, and then we can play the piano a bit? Maybe even watch a movie together?" she picked up the doll and went to the kitchen, and looking in the fridge, then at the utensils available, she put together a nice dinner, and put it split in two plates, one for her, and one for the doll, and to keep away the boring silence that hung painfully throughout the house, she put on some LoFi music on her phone, and ate, feeling more peace now than she ever did. "Hmmm...I know your mum told me to put the food in the freezer...But it's better eaten while still warm. I don't think you'll like it if it's stone cold...So, I'll leave it here, on the table, and see how it is. If you don't like it, and you want me to put it in the fridge, just tell me, and I'll do as advised." ...Just tell me? JUST TELL ME? Girl, are you out of your mind?! As if a doll could speak...

After she washed her plate, fork and knife, she picked up the doll once again, and went to the music room, putting the doll on the piano, and cracking her fingers, she let them glide over the claviature, creating a beautiful melody echo through the room, and maybe Y/N didn't realise, but she had a glowing smile on her face, and she visibly relaxed and felt at ease, as if she was flying through the fluffy clouds.

"I haven't done this in so long, I'm surprise I'm not rustier. I hope you liked it too, Brahmsy. Now, let's go to be. Do you want to sleep in my room? Come on, I'm a bit anxious to sleep by myself in this huge, creepy house." she mused as she got to her room, carefully putting the doll on her pillow and after going to the bathroom to change in her cutesy Unicorn Pusheen nightgown, and turning on her laptop, she put on Harry Potter, one of her comfort movies, and cuddling with the doll, she gave it a little kiss before getting engulfed in the story once again, and falling asleep without realising.

Everything was peaceful in the house in the morning, until Y/N reached the kitchen to make some light breakfast, only to find a paper on the table, with beautiful cursive writing in ink on it.

"Warm is better, thank you :) "

Frankly speaking, it freaked her our enough to get a panic attack and barricade herself in her room for the whole day, her bedroom locked and too afraid to leave that place for the whole day.

Oops.

After this, days on end, and then weeks passed by uneventfully, as Y/N took care of Brahms with no problem, Malcom came by to give her the groceries, the pay and anything that she'd order online, she'd chat with some old friends, would watch movies, would go out to plant flowers and tend to the garden, would dance around, happy to bask in the warm Summer sun, would read whatever books she likes, with the doll in her lap, and she realised that she never felt more relaxed and free in her life.

It was pretty cool not having to work for money, huh?

But one day, when she was out in the garden, barefoot and with a cute, flower dress on, her long, beautiful hair, accessorised with a colourful flower crown, and she was dancing to the music on her phone, she noticed a figure somewhere from the forest. It was unmoving, almost as if it was staring, and it startled Y/N. It startled and frightened her so much that she quickly picked up the doll and went inside the house, making sure all windows and doors are properly locked, and the drapes are closed, so nobody could get in.

That night, she kneeled on the bad, an upset frown on her face, as she felt her eyes watering slightly, looking down at the porcelain doll of the little boy.

"It's moments like this when I hoped you were human, Brahmsy. Not a child...But a man. I'm scared...I'm so scared...I don't like being alone. There was some creep outside in the forest, and it was staring at us. What do I do, Brahmsy? What am I supposed to do...?" as she felt a few tears streaming down her face, she sighed, hanging her head down, raking her fingers down her face in mild desperation. "...Who am I kidding, you're just a doll, you're not human. Why the hell do I even bother. I'm going to die here, sooner or later..." her voice was filled with dread and resignation as she got under the covers, clinging onto the doll as if her very life depended on it.

Since that very day, she continued seeing the silhouette of a tall man, standing there, menacingly stalking her every single day, from different places, until she heard the phone ring, and reluctantly, she answered.

"...Hello? Who is there...?" she muttered, gripping the phone anxiously, awaiting and answer. "You don't recognise the voice of the man that made you feel good every night?" her breath stopped completely hearing that awful voice she hoped never to hear again. Instead of answering, she slammed the phone down.

But it rang again.

And again.

And again.

Until it drove her mad and she disconnected it completely.

It wasn't like anyone would call her anyway, and if they wanted to contact her, then they could text her on her private phone, or on social media.

Why can't she just get some peace anywhere? She just wanted to get away from all hell she was put through at home...But now, it seemed like Hell was inclined to follow her to the ends of the world.

The stress and fright from this increased when she received multiple pictures of herself from either outside the house, or even inside, which is when she realised the stalked from outside was, in fact, the one who called her on the phone. It was her horrible ex.

And one horrible night, as she gripped on the doll to dear life, walking down the corridors of the huge manor, checking for the thousandth time that everything is locked tight, she heard a noise.

What was she supposed to do...? She couldn't run out of the house, everything was locked...And could she hide? Not really, she was sure he'd check all the rooms without fail.

So...What could she do except try to hide in her room?

She waited in her wardrobe, knowing very well that, if he were to get inside her bedroom, he would check every nook and cranny, but even so, she felt safer in a cramped, tight place, than outside in such an open room.

Mere seconds felt like outright centuries, she heard the door slam open, making her jump in fright, her hand to her mouth, so she'd muffle any sound she'd potentially make from her hyperventilating. She knew, it would be long before he checked the wardrobe, but gosh...The anticipation made her anxiety skyrocket.

Until it finally happened.

Y/N found herself being dragged from inside her safe place by the hair, thrown to the ground, but not once did she let go of the doll that became some sort of a comfort object for her.

"So that's where you were, Y/N! I missed you! It's been a while, hasn't it?" oh no, that overly sweet voice...It's nothing but poison. It was so bad that her bottom lip started quivering with fear as she tried to crawl away from there, but obviously, to no avail. "Wheeeere are you going, darling? Didn't you miss me? Come on, give me a hug!" he grinned, grabbing her and trapping her in his arms, and she couldn't help but tremble in disgust and fear as she felt his hands roaming in places it shouldn't. "Why aren't you talking to me? Why aren't you saying anything? Come on, let me hear you voice! ...DO SOMETHING, DAMN IT!" ah, his facade crumbled much faster than expected, and that aggressive scream in her face as he roughly pushed her in the wardrobe door made her whimper and wrap herself around the doll, trying not to let tears fall down her face and just...Praying for all this to be over...To be just a nightmare..."What the fuck is with that doll anyway? Why do you cling on it, and not on me? Give that here." but she didn't let go, and seeing how she was opposing him, he forcefully grabbed her face before slapping her before snatching away the doll from her arms. "Sheesh...It's so fucking ugly. No wonder you stay with this, it's the only thing that would stay with someone like you. So ugly, dumb, annoying...You should be grateful that I'm here! Nobody in this world wants you! You're worthless and you deserve nothing. Do you hear me? You ARE nothing! Better thank me nicely for coming all the way here for you! Nobody would bother doing ANYTHING for you!" he yelled at her, as she cradled her face, crying, but also fearing being seen crying, remembering how bad it would get. "Don't her Brahms...Please...Please don't hurt him..." she begged and pleaded over and over, but it only seemed to ignite more anger in his eyes. "You only beg me with that sweet voice of yours...To save your stupid...Thing? Really, Y/N? You're pathetic. You're stupid. You're disgusting. Fuck you and fuck your stupid doll!" and with that, the jerk started slamming the fragile porcelain doll on the wall, ignoring the desperate pleas from the girl. "NO! NOOOOOOOO! No....! Brahms, no...! What has he done to you..." Y/N crawled to the place where the doll's porcelain head was slammed apart, and she let tears fall over as, with shaky hands, she tried to piece together the overly-fragmented head, only to get pulled back by the hair and slammed on the ground, as he pushed himself upon her, his hands grabbing at her exposed flesh, her light nightgown offering close to no protection from the lecherous predator, and her weak, noodle arms, just like before, offered no resistance to his significantly stronger, bulkier built, and no matter how much she tried to fight back, she knew...She knew that struggling never helped, no matter how much she tried. It never did. And it only made it hurt more.

But then...Before she knew it, a loud noise, like that of an explosion, or destruction, came from somewhere in the room, startling the poor girl enough to make her scream in fright, while the predator jumped to his feet looking at the hole in the wall...

Only for a pair of hands to slowly creep out of the wall, tredging along the wooden walls, and then, a head wearing a porcelain mask creepily got out, followed by 2 legs and a body. It seemed to be a man, very tall - In fact, taller than her ex - , but while yes, his dramatic entrance startled the two, the man only got angrier, ready to fight the intruder, while the petite girl only got more frightened by the commotion, dragging herself in the safest corner of the room, shaking, guarding her head with both her arms, hoping again and again that this was all a nightmare, and it would end already - It was beginning to look so much more incredible, like a weird fantasy movie...This can't be real, right?!

"Y/N! Help me!" the voice of a child called out her name, almost strangled and desperate, and peeking at the brawl on the ground, she noticed her ex trying to strangle the stranger, whose head was leaning, his eyes fixated on hers.

He went out of the wall as soon as she got attacked...He was trying to protect her...Maybe? So...She got up, trying not to attract the attention of her ex, and taking ahold of the lamp on her nightstand, she brought it down hard against her ex's head, making him groan in pain...But he didn't fall. He didn't faint, like you see in movies. Instead, he got up, glaring at the meek girl and snatched away the lamp, throwing it away.

"You fucking bitch...Now you've done it." his voice was so dark that she was sure this was game over, so she bolted out of the room as fast as she could, but the labyrinthine house was impossible to navigate, and before she knew it, she found herself in a dead end, with no escape.

However, instead of seeing her ex with the wrath of a raging bull, she noticed the stranger slowly making his way towards her, his shoulder slouched, his dirty, once white, tank top now splattered with fresh blood, as is the rest of his outfit. But his hands were up, almost as if to say that he 'surrenders', as he stepped right in front of the trembling girl.

"Please don't kill me. Please don't hurt me. Please, please, please, I will leave you alone, I will go away, I will do want you want, please don't hurt me." even her voice was shaky, her arms crossed to protect her face, and her eyes closed in fear, so she didn't notice the curly haired man slowly crouching down in front of her, his head tilting slowly, before he gingerly grasped her wrists, pulling them away with such gentleness that she never knew. It was so weird for someone to be so careful with her body...With her...That she opened her eyes, doe-like, looking at the man's wide eyes that peered through his mask. "I am Brahms." but this time, his voice wasn't like that of a child, but not did it sound rough and hoarse, like her ex's. It was soft and delicate, masculine, but not too much. It was soothing. And what Brahms once saw to be the most frightened eyes, remembering how scared Bambi was when his mother died, yet now, they had more of a curious spark. "I won't hurt you. I promise. Don't leave." the once tense girl visibly relaxed under his touch, as he let go of her wrists and letting his knees touch the floor, he leaned forwards, between her legs, to get closer to her, and touched her face with both of his arms, wiping away her tears, surprised at how soft her skin was...Is it was a flower petal feels like? He remembers overly descriptive books where women are seen as different delicate things...A flower, a fawn, a butterfly, a nightingale, the Moon, and so many others...And he could finally understand why. "You are safe now." he continued, thinking it would make the girl smile, but instead, even more tears leaked down her face, and she threw her arms around his neck, bringing him closer to her, his body flushed to hers...And he stood there, stiff, shocked at the situation he was in.

What was he supposed to do now? Touch was so foreign to him...But he loved it so much! It was so warm, it made him happy! He wanted the girl to be closer and closer to him. He remembers what she did daily to his doll - What was it called...A cuddle? - Yes, he wanted that. He NEEDED that.

He hated that man touching her - He was hurting her - Only HE can touch her. He deserved to die. He deserved to fuck off. All he has to do is get rid of the body, and the rest can go on as it always has been - Except, instead of Y/N cuddling the doll, she will cuddle him every night, and she will kiss him.

"Thank you, Brahmsy. Thank you. Thank you so much." she continued thanking him over and over again, but he didn't answer. Instead, his hands slowly made their way on her waist, then went to the curvature of her hips, then to her thighs, and without any warning, he lifted her up, indirectly forcing her to glue herself to him even more - Not before hearing her cute squeal of surprise - And he carried her to one of the guest bedrooms, shivering a bit as he felt her warm breath on his bare neck - It excited him, but he didn't understand really what it was - But it was enough to make him bite his lip behind the mask and his grip on her thighs strengthened a bit, under the pretext of making sure she doesn't fall by mistake.

Luckily, he reached the bedroom and closing the door behind, he got in bed, holding her close as she stood in his lap, so close that he could feel her rapid heartbeat slowing down little by little. It was no misunderstanding, she was getting more and more comfortable around him. He was her protector, and he wasn't going to let anyone hurt her ever again. She was his. Nobody else's. Only his.

They stood like that for a while, just holding each other and calming down, before Brahms turned the both of them to the side, and he hugged her tightly to his chest, playing with her hair, not letting her go for the whole night. His embrace was warm, and Y/N felt so safe - As never before, not even in her parents' home. She felt...Good.

The next day, she woke up still in Brahms's arms. She wasn't sure if he woke up or not, but she leaned to plant a soft kiss on the forehead of the mask, as she raked her fingers through his dark, curly hair, but before she knew it, a pair of arms wrapped around her torso, hugging her close to his chest.

"Good morning, Brahms. Did you sleep well?" her sleepy voice was so cute...He wanted to wake like this every day...As an answer, he merely nodded. "I'm happy to hear that. Come on, we have to eat breakfast, then take a shower...And after that, we can do whatever we want. Sounds good?" she asked, getting up and holding his arms, urging him to follow her. "No shower!" ah, the childish voice again, I see... "Then...How about I shower with you? I have some cute rubber duckies, if you want." she tried to appeal to his inner child, which seemed to pique his interest. "...Only if you wash me." he muttered, making the girl chuckle. "Okay, sure, sure. Let's eat something first. I think there's some milk and cereal." she remembered how much she loved to eat that every morning before going to school, when she was little.

She prepared two bowls and they ate in silence, until Brahms muttered that he wants to hear the music she usually puts when eating - And grinning at him, she put on LoFi music once again, which seemed to make the boy happy too.

After that, they went to the bathroom, and while Brahms waited for the tub to get filled, Y/N went to get the clothes in the washing machine, while getting some fresh clothes for the both of them. Apparently, he actually had other clothes, he just didn't want to bother washing or changing...For who knows how long...

As Brahms got in the tub, only briefs on, playing with the duckies, Y/N kneeled by the tub, taking the flower-scented showed gel and the sponge.

"Get in the tub too." Brahms put his arms on the tub edge, leaning his chin on them, looking at her attentively. "We don't have much space in the tub." she explained, but he had none of it. Instead, he rose from underneath the water, picked her up with a weird ease, and got her in the tub, not before splashing her, so her nightgown was soaked so she couldn't protest anymore. "...Fine, you got me. Let me clean you, then." she shook her head with a sigh as she heard him chuckle, gripping her wrists and pulling her to sit on his lap. Did he really like it that much, she wondered. "Can I shave your chest and neck, Brahms?" she asked as she trailed her hands over his chest, shoulders and arms, scrubbing with a sponge, one hand always finding its way on either her hip or her leg. The answer came in the form of a nod, and she reached to the sink to get a shaving blade and very carefully, making sure not to irritate his skin, or cut him by mistake, she cut down the overgrown, stinky, unwashed hair. In the end, his skin was finally clean and soft and smelling like roses and vanilla. "Let me sit behind you, I have to wash your hair." he seemed pretty exited, feeling her legs on either side of him, his head leaning back so her fingers could work miracles - He felt in heaven - He was so spoiled, and he loved every second of it. The shampoo smelled really nicely too, he had to admit. But her fingers massaging his scalp...Ahhh, it was so perfect, he was almost sure he'd fall asleep. "Let me wash you too!" he said, and in a split second, he could feel the girl's body stiffen, her eyes going wide, and her face...It was beginning to turn pink...? Was she...Blushing? "Ah, uhm...Well...Y-You can wash my hair, if you want?" she was stuttering! So cute! So cute, in fact, that he pinched both her cheeks, and they felt like marshmallows. "H-Hey, stop, that hurts." she pouted as he teased her. He loved that. "Yay!" Brahms cheered as he got her back glued to his chest, his hand gingerly tracing her neck, making her lean her head back, just as he did...But why did he like the sight of his hand wrapped around her neck? He didn't want to hurt her...But the visual was getting him feel weird things.

He followed the same routine as she did to him - Massaging her scalp, putting shampoo, rinsing, then this...Conditioner? Oh, it smelled nicely...And this is called...Hair mask? Ah, this is coconut scented! And she is smiling! She has a kitty smile! She looks like a cute little kitty!

After the bath time was over, Y/N wrapped him in a bathrobe, and while he wasn't paying attention, she quickly took off her nightgown and put another bathrobe on tying it tightly, and guiding the man back to their room, so she could use a hair dryer to dry both their hair, before brushing it neatly, so they could dress up...And he insisted she dressed in that cute, flowy, flower-patterned dress

"There, all good. What do you want to do now, Brahmsy? Do you want to go in the garden and see the flowers?" she asked, a bright smile on her face, both her hands holding his, and he could see her eyes were basically glimmering, pleading him to go out with her...But he hated the outside...Hmmm...

He grumbled a bit, but ultimately, he let himself be dragged outside - He hissed a bit, as if he was a vampire getting burnt by the sun, but after a while...He didn't find it that bad...? And the flowers in the garden were so pretty...!

"Hey, Brahms, take off your shoes and socks. Feel the grass. It will make you feel so calm and peaceful...Here, how do you feel?" she asked, intertwining her fingers with his. "It's...It tickles." he muttered, looking down and wiggling his toes to get used to it. "Come sit down with me. Watching the clouds is really relaxing." she said, helping him sit down, then laying on their backs. Instead of staying apart, however, Brahms pulled her close to his chest, her head resting on his shoulder. "...But it's kinda boring..." he muttered, as he started kneading her arm up and down, massaging it from sheer boredom. "Look, Brahmsy, that cloud looks like a bunny, don't you think?" she put her finger up in the air, pointing to one of the clouds passing by. "Ah! You're right! And that one looks like a dragon! And that one looks like a butterfly! Look, Y/N, it's so pretty!" his boredom dissipated quickly and it got replaced by excitement instead - Very wholesome, the girl thought as she looked at the person next to her getting so happy over such simple things.

They stood outside until evening came, and they could watch the beautiful sunset, the sky painted with the most gorgeous shades there are. "Let's get inside, dear, it's getting cold. We don't want to get sick, right?" she smiled at him, only for him to hang his head down, and then he took off his cardigan and put it over her shoulders and pulled the girl between his legs, her back glued to his broad, warm chest and his embrace made her feel so warm and at ease. "Brahmsy...?" she asked softly, tilting her head up, before feeling his chin on top of her head, but she was met with silence. "The stars are pretty. You are pretty. Y/N is the prettiest, brightest star. Y/N is my star. I love my star." his soft voice was heard, almost whispery, and after a few more seconds, she felt the softest, sweetest kiss on her hair, then on her temple and on her cheek, before his chin found its place back on her head. "I love you, Brahms." she said, with teary eyes, intertwining her fingers to his, pulling his arms closer to her and squeezing his hands. "And I've never loved anyone more than I love you."

Needless to say, that comment made the man giddy and happy, for he, too, felt happiest now than he ever did before. When they felt tired, Brahms picked the girl up and got her back to their now shared room, dressed in their sleeping wear and cuddled, yet this time, Y/N was holding him, his head resting on her chest, as she played with his hair, soothing, and humming a lullaby to help him sleep.

It was Brahms's Lullaby.

[rumblelibrary]

The Diary of Doctor Laszlo Kreizler

Chapter 1  -  Chapter 2

Synopsis: Alienist’s notes are private, sometimes gruesome, secrets of others and of himself.Those pages belongs to secrecy and decadence, have a glimpse to this world made of drafts, notes, accidents and reflections. Or maybe it is you the only person that should ever reach for it.

While you read this imagine Laszlo mostly at the end of his day, scraping the ideas and the thoughts, adjusting previous notes with additions, closing the day behind himself with a couple of sentences while sitting in his evening robe, a good glass of whiskey and his glasses bridged almost at the tip of his nose. Or maybe imagine yourself, you sneaky thing, reach for it from a far shelf.

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: listen, this is the set of ideas and confessions of a man living in the 1890’s. Most of them will be outdated, rough, even deprecating in some analysis of the roles of men, women and social status, religion, etc.So be prepared, my point is to make Laszlo reflect upon those topics, but to be as faithful as I can to his time. Mention of death, mutilation, self harm and sex. Psychologically troubled young children ahead! Author’s note: The story is placed between season 1 and season 2. Thank you for everyone that encouraged me to keep going. I have to wait for my local drop of serotonin to get fully Laszloed to go through this.

Lyra’s Contellation, Illustration taken from Uranographia by Johann Bode

Routine. Routine is comfort. Habit stabilises the character.

If you follow a routine, you won’t ever be victim of imprudence, of evil jokes of fate. The stability earned through calculated and repeated actions brings a sense of fulfilment that forbids other thoughts to come bashing in, breaking rules, breaking hopes that a solid scheduled routine forbids to have. I take my time to begin this week, I planned the things to do, the next steps for the case, the people to meet, the resources I am allowed to contemplate. I feel good, I feel back to myself and the events of the weekend seem far from me and my own perception. I probably got ahead of myself, carried by some instinctual though and random rush of emotion, to be always in contact with the same people and mostly kids probably doesn’t help my stance in the presence of other adults. I feel silly now reading back the last page, I felt tempted to tear it off, but to keep it there should be a small memento of not losing my temper so easily. I read it over and over and I know I am not as charmed as I thought I was. I am just lonely. I have always been and it is normal to face ups and downs even for a man of my age who is more accustomed to it.  To desire a partner is a natural instinct, to find somebody attractive is meant by nature, it is the body calling for the natural fulfilment of the reason we are put on this very Earth.  But even in a state of nature my own condition would be forbidding me to be part of the natural process of growing my own kind. I am the type of male that would be excluded because of his impossibility to give the protection to the pack, therefore it is just more reasonable to me to adapt to my condition. No matter what my Potentia generandi might be (the ability to procreate).

With all the smugness that characterises him, Niki showed off that he passed my challenge. But to be really of an help to his antics I didn’t show any kind of surprise. I treated him like he did the bare minimum, like he didn’t prove me any kind of superiority. He has a natural attitude toward challenging the figure of power, he is trying to overpower me, but I won’t satisfy his need. I have noticed he has a very technical brain, he finds ways to solve problems in ingenious way and not by throwing himself into the task. I proceeded giving him to work on a clock, an old broken one we had in the institute, one of the kids hit it with a ball years ago and nobody ever worked on repairing it. I gave him the clock, a couple of screwdrivers and a book. He called me a number of German names I won’t transcribe, but it gave me a certain amount of satisfaction. If my intuitions are right, I am sure the clock will be repaired by next week.

Analysis of the victim’s body through John’s eyes. The drawings and sketches are as detailed as I requested, all of this thanks to you joining him. I deal with art critic section, I am used to notice these things. You assure me, you play yourself low and I wonder why, nevertheless you did notice things neither John or I did, which pleased me. It fooled me, distracted me from my purpose to not give in to your witchery, as I leaned closer watching your pale hand move across the pages tracing this or that line, showing how this must be done with the killer on this side and not that side, with words so deliciously elaborate, your way of composing your speech is compelling, you could sell the drawing of a kid like it was a Botticelli. I noticed the shape of your hands, the way you move them, I wonder if you play an instrument, or played, some habits just stick with you through life. I focused on taking notes, your ideas and instructions giving me a new point of view, a new stimulus. What if that is the only way the killer can communicate? Or what if this is the communication that works for him? Could our killer be mute or deaf? Or that’s how society made him feel? This man, or woman, needs a listener and I am afraid that now, since he got our attention and the public’s, he won’t stop. Another killing could be just as close.

Scheduled: meeting with the parents of Alex Garel for new admission, Monday next week at 11 am. Love at first is a fetish and like all fetishes it is based onto an object that hides a deeper meaning, like gloves mean hands, to love at first sight means to see somebody that you think, and think only, to have the chance to share not only a sensual kind of bond, but an intellectual. Love at first sight is based onto not knowing someone well enough, but having the time to idealise most of that someone. I can see why I feel this attraction, using a particular phrase that Sara often mutters when investigating: you tick all the boxes. I know you do, your beauty is everything but conventional, you’re the kind of face that painters would paint and musicians would write hymns about, but any animal on the street would never be allowed to see. You have the grace of the body and the fire in the eyes, and then you speak. When you speak, I realise, you could bring the world to its knees. Also, you never speak out of context, and if you do it is to ease somebody’s position. You do it often with John or with Stevie, you say something really silly in order to put them back to a place of comfort. Some women would call it self deprecating, but I see that you only pick wisely your fights and your wins. You don’t need to earn your peace and quiet by neglecting, but by lifting up the others. I wonder if you do it with me too, if your silences are just you allowing me to be in a better place while instead your judgment is tearing me apart. I shouldn’t care, but I keep wondering, sometimes I take my time to answer you, I analyse every shade, every peculiarity of your question, I am looking for sarcasm, for a condescending voice, for something to hang on and bare you open. To prove myself you’re not perfect. But deep down I know that you do, you judge me and you do well.

Mother never said so. That’s what one of the girls in my care said today. Ursula. She is tough. Skin as thick as an alligator and the tendency to pull her own hair at night or when under a massive amount of stress, enuresis alongside erratic episodes of mutism. I tried the soft approach, it didn’t work. She is too accustomed to be indulged. Therefore today I pushed her a bit overboard, I teased her over opinions on the female body, the female role, she is only 12, but she is soon to bleed, she knows, I can tell from the way she clenches to her skirts, from the way she looks at me as a threatening figure. I am the incarnation of danger to her. Under her steady silence, I pushed a bit more, asking how her mother taught her to be nice and submissive. Does her mother tells her she is going to be a good wife? The phrase, which I reported at the top of the page, surprised me.  What is her mother teaching to her then? What closed her so much, locked her soul away, making a small bird like this choose the silence and the retirement of self inflicted pain over, what? Mankind? Or just Men? Is that even a curse? Should I cure her from a truth that her own mother whispered to her ear one night before bed and made a child decide that the world wasn’t a place to share her time with? Am I the man supposed to teach her that men are worth of trust? In the eyes of modern society, who measures its own value over the modesty of the women, she would be a champion, but at what price? I can’t in any way let her parents bring her back home after our recent meetings. Nevertheless, I have to make up my own mind on how to give her troubled soul ease without making her believe in fables. I, as a man, regard myself not worth of any of the trust they expect me to teach her.

In all of my years practicing with people’s feelings and traumas, I challenged myself to find those same traumas within my own mind. It is a tricky game, terrible, anguishing at times. But it straightens me, the pain of others, the pain of kids mostly, so unadulterated and pure, breaks the curtain between me and the lies that I often surround myself with. Pain is made of method, you can open it up, you can scrutinise it, part it piece by piece dividing it in sectors and, partitions, centre part, side part, heart of the problem. Pain is reliable. Happiness is not. It is random, cruelly sudden, unexpected, it washes over you in such deflecting way only to leave you alone a moment after ashamed and alone. I saw you again today. You were in a table full of what I could only guess as your former university colleagues, I saw pain in you, not heavy but constant. Annoyance, a bit of sadness. Your head titling on side and your eyes drifting on the left, you’re imagining something away from them.  A place? An object? Or maybe someone? Your hands play circles at the bottom of the flute of your drink like kids do, your smile only one sided. I don’t see you speak at all, only listen.  What could keep your voice down? I almost gulped down my own breath as you looked up and I realised how I must have looked. I was having lunch on my own, in a very private table and even entertaining myself with a newspaper on the side. I wish you didn’t, but you came over, your eyes shining.  Did I save you? Or maybe I was just a good excuse to leave that painful meeting behind. Don’t be so nice to me, it is not healthy. Don’t look at me like you expect anything more from me than me listening. I won’t smile back at you, I won’t give you care, attentions or thought. I won’t lean for your perfume, I won’t obsess over that dress you wore, that pin that adorned your neckline keeping your undershirt in place, a silver robin, I remember. I won’t remember the number of the buttons on the side of your glove, three. I won’t observe the little moles just under your ear. A small constellation, I later realised, hidden between your ear and the beginning of your neck. I don’t need to check in my books. It is a constellation. It is Lyra. Why? Why you must be like this? Are you the Lyra? Are you the instrument of Orpheus come to me to drag me out of Hell? The Tartarus holds my soul and you should know already, I am not worth the quarter part of Eurydice to be saved and she never came back anyway. I won’t be now recollecting the way your teeth sunk in the inner side of your cheek when you apologised for the annoyance.  You apologised twice, I ignored you both times with a raised hand to request peace and silence. I am not letting you in.

Reserved: Tickets for Wednesday’s evening Traviata by Giuseppe Verdi. The guest female lead promises a beautiful show.

Leonardo, as I am learning through Paul Valery essay, is who I would define as a figure of projective identification of the Subject or, to better explain it, of the knowledge of the Subject that formed and grew through the use of sketches in the experience of the Artist. I have always thought that the finest form of art was the representation of knowledge duly undressed by any personal identification. Leonardo, instead, proceeded to represent the figure through the essence of the artist, a representation technically unlimited on objects and symbols and that keep expressing the transformation and development of Leonardo’s own being.Some artists are testimony of the destruction of the world, of the loss of eternal beauty over decadence. And then you have Leonardo, who creates an art that is the gravity of the world’s system, of the nature, of thoughts and abstractions. I wonder if our killer does the same, if the way they presents the victim through their own personal view, if what we can read there it is their stories, their pains, their needs. Their happiness and troubles. What are they trying to tell me?  I need to know, I need to know to save a life, of course, but I also need to know to be able to sleep at night. Hair, hair are the epitome of femininity in any era. I keep studying Ursula and her habit to pull the. I took notes on it: she picks them by the bottom, slowly separates them until she gains an amount her mind defines satisfactory and then she rolls her finger and pulls, she does it until her finger is empty and there are no hair left. I find her process incredibly interesting. In men’s case the display of physical attributes is not as vital, a beard can be appreciated but does not modify the power of seduction of a grown man. On the contrary, for women hair are a vital part of their attractiveness toward the opposite sex, society sees the hair of a woman as part of their vital characteristics, also in ancient times for a woman to cut her hair or have her hair cut was a sign of deep separation from the society. Only heroines or whores wore that mark and the association of the two is so rooted into the way society always parted the role of a woman in two that it is nauseating to think of. I am still fearing to let Ursula go away, the repulsion that she is showing toward her own body makes it difficult even for me to crack her shell open as a man, but my deepest worry is when that hate will take a scarier and deeper tool on her. How a girl with such  a fear of what her body can do, like sex or pregnancy, can endure in the future to have an husband? Or even to be courted by anyone?

John is helpless and I admire him for that. He doesn’t hide it, he just is. He is vulnerable and exposed, he is an open well bursting with doubts and feelings and troubled waters. He is genuine in a way I could never be. Maybe that’s why I despise even more him talking about you, how he sees you every morning, how you greet everybody, how you behave even with interns, how you like your coffee.  Your talents, your wits, how you said this and acted like that and reasoned through him. How you forbid him to drink even when he felt tempted. How you stayed late over to help him collect all the informations I requested him to get. To him. Not to you. The evil demon of envy scratching in the back of my head screaming like a siren out in the sea, he demands to be heard, he demands to be allowed a part in this game. I won’t allow him that. I won’t allow myself any of that. This is a pure game of chess, if I give in a pawn now, I will lose my knight, and I know it. I advice him to not be so closed minded when he praises you, only to get surprised by the charms of a natural logical mind. I find a way to hurt him, he is an easy target, I look at him as his eyebrows twitch and he summons his patience on me. He lost the plot about you already, his bruised pride taking over. You won’t come into my life.

“Un dì, felice, eterea, mi balenaste innante, e da quel dì tremante vissi d'ignoto amor.”  (“On a day, happy and ethereal, you appeared in front of me and from that day, trembling, I lived on an unknown love”)

The words of Alfredo in the first act of the Traviata keep running through me, a chant that won’t let me go, almost painful. The Opera House, that was my hiding place, a place where in plain sight I could let out myself, unleash. The catharsis of the characters involved running through me, I didn’t need anything but their voices and those musical instruments to let out my fears, doubts and anger. When Alfredo came to the scene tonight, the lights were strong and slightly pinkish, the performer bursting out of the seams with passion. My eyes diverted only to see you there. Alone. Those blinding lights gave you the the radiance of a vision singing the notes of greek myths and heroes, that dark blue evening clothing rang through my eyes like it was a bright yellow, the little shiny details that adorned you so clear against the heavy lighting to look like transparent pieces of water collected to adorn your beauty. I wasn’t me, but Alfredo, and I was helpless against you sitting so far and yet too close from me. I was naked in front of thousands. I am aware of the effect you have on me and our last conversation was barely regarded as one. This is infatuation, this is the pure work of a lonely mind and not something worth of any of all the words that I am dissipating here. Yet. I saw you cry at the climax of the opera, Violetta, the protagonist, heartbroken falling on stage consumed by pain and regret for her lost love and ultimate sacrifice. Your eyes shone as you tried to hide the tears and collect yourself. Through my binoculars, I saw your throat tremble and gulp down something more than just a sigh of pain. Your jaw clenched, your gloved hand moves to hide your shaking lips. I reckon, I have never seen such sad lips look more inviting. You look at the wall on your side breathing through your nose and not even that can save you by the strength of the voice of the soprano. You’re defeated and so you brought a fine silk handkerchief to your eyes, your shoulders bent inward in self defence.  The Opera won. It won you like it always wins me. I wonder if you felt like this because of a past lover, somebody that broke your heart and made you feel wrong in any way.  And because of that little wonder it is even more clear to me why I am a man worth of no trust. Because for a moment, I know, I wished to be the one that broke your heart. That gave you just the pain you’re inflicting on me so mercilessly by offering intoxicating kindness and beauty.  To own your thoughts, tears and shame. To be the one man you have to look away from. I want to own all of that and, maybe, I will be freed of you the day you’ll be just another human being that hates Dr Laszlo Kreizler.

Tagged @cazzyimagines​ @lieutenantn​ @handmaiden-of-mischief​ @thesunflowersutra​ @zemomybeloved​​ @fictionlandslanddreams​ @charistory​ @greeneyedblondie44​ @apparrio​ @hb8301​ @whatawildone​

Let me know if you want to get tagged too <3

[avengers-age-of-fanfics]

just for you, honeybee (4/?)

pairings: steve rogers x fem!reader (platonic), bucky barnes x fem!reader

warnings: characters death, swearing, flirting with colonel phillips, guns, plane crash

word count: 4,327

a/n: holy crap this one is long! i really enjoyed writing this chapter just because i got to watch CA:TFA all over again and i cried like a little baby. hope you guys enjoy this! btw, next chapter is going to be very short - probably the shortest one yet, just a heads up!

“Johann Schmidt belongs in a bughouse,” Colonel Phillips started, “he thinks he’s a god and he’s willing to blow up half the world to prove it, starting with the U.S.A.”

You tensed up next to Steve as Howard moved behind you, taking a seat to your right, “Schmidt’s working with powers beyond our capabilities. He gets across the Atlantic, he will wipe out the entire Eastern Seaboard in an hour.”

Peggy’s eyes met yours before they drifted to Steve who tossed a pile of papers on the table in front of him. One of the Howling Commandos spoke up, “how much time we got?”

Colonel Phillips sorted through some files, “according to my new best friend, under 24 hours.”

You spoke up, “where is he now?”

The Colonel presented the group with a photo, “Hydra’s last base is here. In the Alps, 500 feet below the surface.”

Another Howling Commando spoke up, “so what are we supposed to do? I mean, it’s not like we can just knock on the front door.”

“Why not?” And just like that, Steve captured everyone’s attention in the room, including yours. You knew this was going to be a suicide mission, especially if he continued with this idea, “that’s exactly what we’re gonna do.”

Everyone looked at Steve with wide eyes, except for you and Peggy. Schmidt was in for a rude awakening.

-

Grabbing a motorcycle alongside Steve, the two of you headed into the snowy forest towards the base. Glancing over at Steve, you noticed he kept the design on the shield, joy sparking in your chest, “you kept it!”

Steve barely heard you over the sound of the motorcycles but he smiled, “not too shabby for your first Captain America design.”

You chuckled, about to respond until you glanced back, seeing six motorcycles behind you, “we got company, Cap!”

Quickly swerving back and forth to avoid whatever-the-hell they were shooting at you, Cap glanced back once more before he pushed a button on the pad attached to his motorcycle, two hooks with strings attached latching onto two trees. Right away, two guys on motorcycles failed to avoid the trap, sending them flying forward.

Cap yelled over to you, “get next to me!”

Speeding up a bit on your bike, you ended up next to Steve as he pressed another button, fire immediately covering two of the cyclists. You gave Steve a look, “that was so badass!”

On your left, you saw two Hydra motorcycles race ahead of you before you looked to Steve, “I got an idea! Move quickly!” Racing ahead, you quickly picked a pin from their motorcycles, making sure Steve was nowhere near them. Looking back, you sent a smirk his way as he sped up next to you, hearing and feeling the explosion of the motorcycles.

Riding towards the base, a tank was placed right before the entrance. Steve yelled, “stay right behind me,” just as the tank started shooting at you. Racing behind Cap, you both saw the tank explode as Steve shot at it from his motorcycle, riding up the cement barrier of the base.

Jumping over the barriers with your bikes, both you and Steve were met with Hydra soldiers with guns pointed right at you. Continuing your ride, you saw Steve jump off his, watching it explode the first wall of the base. Riding through the base, you quickly took down any soldier in your way, shooting them with your new best friend – StG 44.

Running a few fellas over with your bike, you looked over at Steve who was taking multiple soldiers down with the shield. Turning your attention back towards the fight, you continued to take down more men – but you noticed their numbers were growing bigger by the second.

In a spare glance, you turned to Steve who was now surrounded by two men holding flamethrowers, making it unable for him to move. You came to a stop, noticing a line of men pointing their guns at you. With a sigh, you hopped off your bike – but not before shooting one more guy by your feet.

You saw Cap look around for you worriedly until he met your eyes; you nodded at him, telling him to not put up a fight, at least not yet. He nodded back, allowing the Hydra soldiers to take both your weapons and leading you down the halls of the base and into a room that had it not hold one of the world’s most dangerous men, you’d say it had a beautiful view.

You and Steve stopped side-by-side with the Hydra soldiers as Johann Schmidt started talking, “arrogance may not be a uniquely American trait, but I must say, you do it better than anybody.”

This was not what you expected Johann Schmidt to look like.

He glanced at you, “seems you have no limits, Captain, bringing a woman into this.”

You glared at the red-faced monster, “I came here on my own accord, just to clarify, Schmidt.”

Johann hummed as he turned away from you, “however, even you have limits as to what you can do, Captain. Or did Erskine tell you otherwise?”

Steve spoke up beside you, “he told me you were insane.”

Schmidt seemed unsurprised, looking down to the floor and back to Steve, “ah…he resented my genius and tried to deny what was rightfully mine. But he gave you everything. So, what made you so special?”

Steve chuckled, “nothin’. I’m just a kid from Brooklyn.”

Schmidt turned to you, “how about you, little one? What makes you so special?”

You swallowed thickly, “good looks?”

You nor Steve really aren’t sure what exactly set Johann off, but a switch had flipped, and his face grew into a frown before he slapped you across the face twice, doing the same to Cap while also kneeing him in the stomach. Both you and Steve were put on your knees as all three of you breathed heavily.

With a slight grin, Steve looked up at Johann, “I can do this all day.”

Johann was not amused, “oh, of course you can, of course.” He paused before he continued, pulling a gun out from the side of his uniform, “but unfortunately, I am on a tight schedule.” He pointed the gun to Steve’s head just as the Howling Commandos began to zip line towards the base.

You growled towards Schmidt, “so are we.”

Once Schmidt realized what was happening, you and Steve quickly grabbed the guards behind you, pulling them in front as Johann fired his gun at them, their bodies disappearing in thin air. You gave Steve a look as the Howling Commandos flew in through the windows, firing at the enemy as Schmidt took off.

Quickly getting up off your feet, you scurried towards the hall where Schmidt took off, a Howling Commando yelling behind you, “Rogers! You might need this!”

Hearing the shield pass through the air, you knew Steve caught it as he yelled back, “thanks,” then hearing his footsteps take after yours.

Hydra troops marched down the halls of the base, guns ready to fire at any moment. With your heightened sense of hearing, you knew the rest of the platoon was taking over the Hydra base, gunfire slowly taking over your senses. Explosions filled the base as smoke and fire entered your senses; Steve ran beside you, sensing the same things.

You saw Schmidt turn down a corridor, yelling over to Steve, “this way!” Quickly, Schmidt retaliated, sending bolts of his gun your way, making you narrowly avoid being disintegrated. Steve ran beside you, shield blocking the gunfire as you chased after the madman.

With a lucky throw, Steve threw the shield, catching it between metal doors where Schmidt narrowly escaped. Cap let out a sigh, rushing towards the shield as you quirked an eyebrow, “lucky throw?”

Before he could answer, a Hydra Agent came around the corner with two flamethrowers, making Steve push you against the wall as he ran opposite of you; you both were trapped as fire encapsulated your vision. Glancing towards the fire welder, you tried coming up with a plan before, lo and behold, Peggy Carter shot at the man, his flaming body falling to the ground.

Both you and Steve looked around the corner, spotting Peggy as soldiers ran by; Steve smirked at Peg, “you’re late.”

Your eyes shifted towards the ceiling as you tried to avoid the awkward moment; Peggy spoke up, “weren’t you about to –“ Steve nodded, “right, yeah – y/n.” With that, you and Steve took off towards the door where the shield held its place. Grabbing your hand, Steve pulled the shield and quickly took off.

You spotted men from the 107th shooting at the giant airship, Hydra agents lying about the floor. Turning to Steve, who was a few steps behind you, you nodded your head, “we got a problem.” The ship’s engines had already started, and it seemed Schmidt was, understandably, in a rush to complete his plan. The ship turned, wheels screeching against the floor as you and Cap slowed down, watching it slowly make its way to the exit.

Steve glanced around, watching as Hydra forces and your own fought one another. With a nod towards you, both you and Steve took off, running headfirst into battle, making sure to avoid trouble along the way; that, and, well, Steve also wanted to get some hits in.

You noticed where Cap was headed as you two ran in battle, “how do you plan on fitting us both on that?”

Steve glanced back at you, “think you can hold on, kid?”

You grumbled, “yeah! But I’m literally older than you by like, 4 months…”

Quickly, Steve jumped over huddled bodies until he reached a box of supplies lying right beneath a chain; with a jump, Steve latched onto the chain as you skipped a step, latching onto his waist mid-flight. Reaching a safe zone, you jumped first, meeting Steve in a mid-run as you headed towards the ship Johann Schmidt was currently about to fly.

You and Steve ran beside one another, pushing to reach Schmidt even as fire from the engines burnt your face. You yelled over to Steve, “c’mon, Steve! We’re – we’re almost there!” Your last sentence turned into a scream, your body yelling at you for pushing itself to the limits.

The fans from the ship sped up as you and Steve struggled to catch up with Schmidt, your hopes slowly fading as he seemed to get further and further away. Steve pulled you to a slow jog, about to crash until Peggy Carter and Colonel Phillips pulled up beside you in one of Schmidt’s cars.

Colonel Phillips yelled at you both, “get in!” Before you even settled down beside the Colonel and Steve beside Peggy, you took off, hair flying behind you. You turned to the Colonel with a smirk on your face, “nice ride, Phillips!”

The Colonel glanced a look at you as he sped up, “figured I might keep this once we’re done here!” You let out a laugh that soon died off as you recognized the light from the sun and a runway – right where Schmidt currently was.

You looked to the Colonel, a worried look on your face, as he pressed a button beside the steering wheel; right away, the car you were seated in blasted off, hair wildly being thrown behind you as the Colonel grasped onto the wheel. You held onto the door handle, eyes wide as you were reaching the ship, “remind me to never drive with you again, Colonel!”

With shaky legs, you began standing up as Steve did the same mid-ride, reaching the back end of the ship. You and Steve yelled to the Colonel, “keep it steady!”

Peggy shouted over the sounds of the ship and car engines, “wait!” Steve looked back to Peggy as she pulled him into a kiss.

You looked to the Colonel with a shrug; he shook his head at you, “I ain’t kissin’ you!” You gave a laugh as you blew him a kiss, leaning on the hood of the car to avoid getting chopped up by the propellers on the ship. Steve followed right behind you, shield meeting the propellers only once, sparks flying.

You glanced at Steve quickly before you jumped towards the ship’s wheel, grabbing onto the metal support beam as Steve flew right below you, catching onto the lasting part of the wheel. Looking down, you tried steadying your breath as you realized how high up you were; grasping Steve’s hand, you pulled him up alongside you as the wheel you two stood on was slowly pulled into the ship.

With a shaky hand, you reached into your shirt and grabbed Bucky’s dog tags, holding them tight against your scolding skin, even though it was blistering cold in the Alps.

Once inside the lower level of the ship, you and Steve quietly made your way along the metal floors, looking below you as you saw a horrifying sight; bombs with names of major cities written on them, including Chicago and New York.

With a slight gasp, you turned to Steve who looked just as distraught as you were. As his eyes met the New York bomb, footsteps echoed above you, Hydra agents making their ways across the metal landings. With stealth, Steve jumped up, grabbing onto the railing, and kicking an agent over the ledge. Jumping just as high, you landed on the landing and met with the remaining three agents.

With a slight run, you met one agent halfway as he immediately threw a punch your way. You narrowly avoided it, ducking to the side and elbowing him in the face, hearing a nice crunch beneath your elbow. Steve made his way around you, kicking another agent in the chest as he flew backwards. Kicking your opponent over the ledge, you grabbed a knife holstered onto your thigh and threw it at the third and final agent running away, hiding him in the back of the neck; with a grunt, he fell against the side of the landing.

Somehow, Steve’s agent escaped during a quick moment of distraction, climbing on top of the Chicago bomb. Cap ran towards the control panel, pressing the red escape button before the poor guy could even make it inside the capsule, hearing him scream as he fell thousands of feet.

You took a quick breath, “I don’t feel guilty about that…is that bad?”

Steve shrugged, “I – I don’t think so…no, yeah, no, definitely not.”

Less than a second later, two Hydra agents ambushed you and Steve, punching you in the side as you let out a grunt. Avoiding another punch, you grabbed a knife from your thigh and stabbed your opponent in the chest, flipping him over just for good measure. Steve had already disposed of his guy as you kicked yours down towards the opening where Steve’s own guy had just gone down.

You wiped off the blood from your knife on your suit as Steve grimaced, “what, waste a perfectly good knife? Sorry I don’t have a shield, Stevie.”

Steve just shivered, “that’s just…gross, y/n.”

You rolled your eyes, “so overdramatic. C’mon, let’s go.”

Before you could continue on within the ship, however, Steve and you heard someone get into one of the bombs, closing the lid. Steve immediately jumped onto the window, another agent jumping on top of him. Without thinking, you threw your knife at the agent, hitting him in the shoulder as the bomb, along with Steve on it, dropped into the sky.

You screamed, “Steve! No – no!”

Grabbing at your hair, you held back tears as you watched Steve fly around, narrowly avoiding the tiny ship’s propellers. With careful steps, you saw the scene unfold as the agent you had stabbed was shoved into the propellers, blood flowing from the sky; you gagged, “jesus, Steve – that was disgusting.”

Stepping away from the platform, you trusted Steve and continued your way through the ship, trying to find Schmidt. Grabbing Cap’s shield from where it had been discarded before the bomb was dropped, you made your way to the cockpit where you realized it was quiet – too quiet.

At some point, you felt the ship shake and loud bangs filled the air as you hoped it was Steve – back in one piece. Slowly walking down the stairs, the shield protecting you, you quietly walked upon the metal grates of the ship until reaching the pilot’s seat; leaning to the side, you realized Schmidt was no longer there.

“What the –“ Before you could finish, you heard the sounds of a gun preparing to fire, and in a split second, you used the shield to protect yourself from Schmidt’s laser, the shot hitting the window of the ship.

Harsh winds forced itself into the ship, your hair blowing wildly as Schmidt stood before you, “you don’t give up, do you? Where’s Mr. Rogers, little one?”

Just then, Steve decided to make his grand entrance as you glared at Schmidt, “kids from Brooklyn aren’t exactly known for givin’ up, Johann.” With a flick of your arm, you threw the shield to Steve as Schmidt fired, forcing you to jump to the side. Steve caught the shield, blocking another hit from Schmidt’s laser as it hit the window again.

Cap ran towards Schmidt, blocking more hits as he fought with the red-skulled man, avoiding yet also receiving some hits. Once Cap was kicked to the ground, you jumped behind Schmidt, kicking his hind legs and kneeing his lower spine, hearing him grunt in pain in response. Steve stood up, pushing Schmidt against a wall before being slammed to the ground.

You ran towards Johann, arm going around his neck, choking him as he tried grabbing at anything for leverage. With a quick glance to the table lying in the middle of the room, glowing blue, you threw yourself on top of it, pulling Schmidt with you and onto the floor. Steve had then pulled Schmidt up, hitting him with his shield until Schmidt fought back, hitting Cap with his own weapon before Steve headbutted him.

Steve leaned back before he grabbed onto Schmidt’s uniform, throwing him towards the pilot seat, sparks immediately flying through the air. With a yell, you realized the ship was tipped downwards, heading straight towards, what looked like, an icy landscape. Flying to the ceiling alongside Schmidt and Steve, you flew towards Johann, punching him in the stomach as he did you, trying to gain some type of balance.

As the three of you fought in the air, you gave your best kicks and punches, watching Steve be thrown to the side of the ship. In the short time, Schmidt flew over and pulled up the steering stick of the ship, pressing a few buttons as you all three fell to the floor, the ship back to normal altitude.

Landing on the metal grates harshly, you groaned as Steve stood up, pulling you alongside him as he held his shield in front of you both. Schmidt turned towards you, gun in hand as he stumbled down the stairs, “you could have the power of the gods! Both of you!”

Schmidt shot towards you and Steve as you ducked, feeling the heat of the gunfire pass over your head, “yet you wear a flag on your chest, and think you fight a battle of nations!” He kept firing at you, Steve pulling you along as Schmidt continued, “I have seen the future, Captain, little one! There are no flags!”

Another shot fired over your head as Steve analyzed his next steps, yelling back, “not my future!” Leaping forward, Steve rolled and protected himself from another shot from Schmidt as you kneeled by the side, ready to step in.

With a grunt, Steve threw the shield at Johann, forcing him to hit the glowing table, the item inside slowly coming out of its container. You narrowed your eyes, “what the hell is that?” Its bright light captured your attention as Schmidt stood beside it, “what have you done?”

The bright blue box was now outside its container, off to the side from the force of Johann’s body; Schmidt grabbed it, and after a few seconds, bright lights flew around the ship and the universe seemed to open up above him. Your brain could not comprehend what you were seeing – millions of stars and planets littered the space above as Schmidt stood below, arms beside him as he looked up.

Slowly, Schmidt’s body began to deteriorate, his screams of pain echoing throughout the ship, rainbow flashes coloring your vision as both you and Steve looked away. Then, in a split second, the blue cube fell to the ground and Schmidt was gone.

You looked at Cap, “what…what just happened?”

Steve shook his head, leaning down to grab his shield before nodding towards the pilot’s seat, “we gotta figure this out.”

Sitting beside him as co-pilot, you turned on the radio as Steve tried to figure out how exactly to land the aircraft. He looked down at the map, noticing the ship was on its way to New York. Looking at one another, you pressed on the intercom button beside you, “come in! This is y/n l/n, alongside Captain Rogers. Do you read me?”

Right away, someone responded, “Y/N, L/N, what is your –“

Quickly, Peggy interrupted him, “y/n! Is that you? Is Steve with you? Are you both alright?”

You sighed at the sound of Peggy’s voice as Steve smiled, “Peggy! Schmidt’s dead and – and –“

Peggy calmed you down, “what about the plane?”

You looked to Steve for help as he talked for you, “that’s a little bit tougher to explain.” You raised an eyebrow at Steve as you grasped onto Bucky’s dog tags around your neck, trying to help the conversation. Peggy continued, “give me your coordinates, I’ll find you a safe landing site.”

With solemn eyes, you looked at Steve who was trying his best to possibly fix something, anything, “there’s not gonna be a safe landing…but I can try and force it down.”

Peggy stumbled, “I – I’ll get Howard on the line. He’ll know what to do.”

Steve shouted back, “there’s not enough time. This thing’s moving too fast and it’s heading for New York.”

The sky ahead of you looked beautiful. It was orange, mixed with bits of yellow and blue. Your nose had grown quite cold and your hair whipped your face as you still grasped onto the dog tags.

Steve breathed heavily, “I gotta put her in the water.”

You knew this was coming. You just knew it.

Peggy responded, “please, don’t do this. We have time. We can work it out.”

You called out to Peggy, “Peg…we’re in the middle of nowhere. If we wait any longer, a lot of people are going to die.” Steve glanced at you with worry in his eyes; you nodded to him as he continued, “Peggy… this is our choice. We’re okay.”

Steve reached into his pocket, pulling out a compass with a picture of Peg in the middle of it, placing it on one of the meters. With a grunt, Steve pushed the level down, the airship leaning towards the ocean in no time. You looked at Steve, your heart racing as tears raced your cheeks; not in fear, but in sadness.

Sadness that you never got to have your dance with Bucky at your wedding, nor see his smile once again or feel his lips against your own. You wouldn’t get to hear his gravelly voice in the morning right after a good night’s sleep, or get to hold his hand as he pulled you along at fairs. You wouldn’t be able to smell him or feel his hair against your fingertips as he cuddled into your chest. You wouldn’t be able to be with him before you died.

The altitude was dropping fast and Steve continued to look at the picture of Peggy, the sun glaring in his eyes, “Peggy?”

With a whisper, Peggy responded, “I’m here.”

Steve stared at the glaciers that were coming into view, “I’m gonna need a rain check on that dance.”

Your lips quivered as the glaciers came closer and closer to you. Peggy let her tears fall as she whispered back, “all right. A week, next Saturday, at the Stork Club. And I expect you there, too, y/n. You hear me?”

You and Steve let out a breath as Steve responded, “you got it.” Steve reached beside himself and grabbed for your hand, holding it tightly. The tears came faster as did the glaciers and the cold water.

Peggy continued, “8 o’clock on the dot. Don’t you dare be late. You two understand?”

You swallowed, tears clouding your vision, “yes ma’am.”

Steve stared at the oncoming landscape, “you know, I still don’t know how to dance.”

Peggy whispered as Steve’s hand gripped yours tight, “I’ll show you how. Just be there.”

Steve had his own tears running down his cheeks as you sobbed quietly, hand gripping his tight, “we’ll have the band play something slow.”

Steve turned back towards you, eyes sad as he saw your cheeks, “I am so sorry, honeybee. I’m so sorry.”

With your remaining hand, you held onto Bucky’s dog tags tightly, alongside Steve’s hand, as he turned back to the radio, “I’d hate to step on your…”

The last thing you saw was your James Barnes standing right in front of you, arms wide as he yelled, “my honeybee! There she is – looking gorgeous as ever, honey.” With a kiss to your lips, it almost felt real as you responded, “hi, Jamie.”

honeybee taglist:

@clownerlyluv @ginger-swag-rapunzel

[swanofsnow]

The evening talk, and turned into morning. Lena had dozens of questions for her mother, but was shocked, and filled with shame learning of her mother secret, and lie.

“ I had to depart from Doar, and say goodbye to my friends. I said farewell to the guards, one particular was your aunt Deirdre. She and I, we’re close and I told her if she was ever to need anything to look me up. A few days later a carriage was sent for me, and I returned to Snow Mystic. I’m not sure if it was the stress or the heart ache, but my brother Andrew was sick and in deep pain. His wife, had died, and their son was still away at school. The day I arrived I was introduced to a man named John Arkov, he was the commander of the fleet. He was also, going to be my new husband. He was selected for me, and he was much older than I was. He twenty three.. and was not keen to marry a teenage princess. But he knew this was a command, and that same night we were married and performed a bedding ceremony.”

Lena moved to pour her mother tea “ What’s a bedding ceremony..” she questioned “ and he so was much older than you were, you must have been terrified.” Nichola reached for the cup, holding onto it.

“ He was very handsome, and tall. I was more scared of the ceremony than my new husband. This ceremony involved having several men watch me perform an act with my new husband. So there would be no denial, that Johann was the father of my baby. Atleast that’s what we had hoped for, but your uncle swore he would recover and have his vengeance. He informed the court, I was taken advantage of, and summoned William Duncan to court, and when he arrived William.”

She took a slow breathe “ he didn’t deny it.” She bite her lower lip, watching as Lena paced the room. “ MOTHER! He didn’t deny it? He actually let that reputation and shame happen to his own family, and you let that happen!!”

A single nod was given at first “ He came with a condition, he would be given the chance to help raise the baby. I agreed, and right before Christmas I gave birth to a boy, a beautiful and healthy boy I named Ryan. I was also crowned that same year. Many came to visit the new baby, even one odd fellow. He was a strange man, but he vowed that my son would live a long time on the throne, and he would be handsome and have many suitors. I think now how silly it was, but I was worried how things would turn out for him.”

She sipped her tea “ Some years passed and William like clockwork would arrive on Tuesday, and leave on Thursday to see your brother Ryan. I got pregnant again, I was excited and eager for a new baby. During this time, a young girl would visit the castle, and she reminded me of how I used to travel when I was a young girl, her name was Autumn. I want you to remember that name in my story”

Lena nodded nervously, and asked her to continue. “ I was six or seven weeks.. when I caught John with another woman, it was Ryan 3rd birthday, and the entire court caught him with me. I was in a rush, running away from him, when I fell down the stairs, and I lost my child. After that, things were dark between John and me. I was not legally allowed to divorce him, so we had to remain under the same roof and live two different lives. Sometimes he would get so drunk, he would rage into my room and hurt me. Sometimes I would get drunk and hurt him. I had a personal guard assigned to sleep in my room, who trained me to protect myself. I eventually submitted request for further men and woman to come to the castle to help ease my pain, I asked for pirates, sorcerers, guards, many people to keep me distracted. “ Lena would move to raise her hand “ why did you need all of these random people, was it for anything in particular?”

Nichola would nod “ It was for power, and to keep me and my country in it, and to be advanced. But alsoJohn would leave the court, when his mistress gave him a daughter, he would retire to the hills. I became so obsessed with his infidelity, I drank more. my council was concerned about my drinking and asked for me to find a retreat to help recover. I was recommended to travel, and to leave my son behind in the care of his grandfather. they were very excited a boy had been born and they wanted to protect him. While I was gone, I went to different places, places called Paraíso, and Hillside, I even went to a place called Sundara. I.. returned confident and strong. “ she half way smiled “ or atleast I thought I was.. when I returned.. my beautiful little girl Autumn was grown, your aunt Deirdre arrived from Doar and a foreign prince, a very handsome prince looked at me, like I was the most beautiful woman in the world, his name was Uriel.”

Lena watched her mother tell her stories, there was life again in her cheeks, and she hoped she wasn’t using her last energy on this, she hoped by telling these stories she would find the strength to live.

“ Tell me about aunt Dee.. and this handsome prince Uriel.”

#the story continues

[johannesviii]

This is a long post about Shaman King I started to write ages ago and I don’t have a good title for it

Let me tell you about Shaman King for a few minutes, okay. Because the new anime adaptation is coming in like 3 months and I’m still not ready for it. Also I started to write this post 5 years ago just because I re-read the whole thing at the time and it’s been in my drafts since then. Oops

But yeah Shaman King was the very first fandom I got into when I first had a real internet access, around 2003-2004. I was around fifteen. The manga was still going. And in retrospect, it was full of problems. Among other things:

Not enough female characters & questionable choices for most of the ones who actually have a part to play in the plot

A black character drawn with big lips (see above), and I REALLY HOPE this is gonna get fixed in the new anime ; I mean even the author stopped drawing him like that a few years ago when he did the “remix tracks” extra chapters so come on please

An imaginary native american tribe who, while pretty cool, is still imagined by a Japanese dude in 1999 soooo yeah there’s some rough corners here and there (edit: got some anon hate about that but I'm sorry, "ancient aliens" tropes always make me uncomfortable)

An art quality which gets worse and worse over time due to deadline pressures and an increasingly exhausted author

Was stopped before it could reach its natural conclusion (the author drew an actual ending years later and tbh it’s great so I’m putting this very low on the list)

So yeah. Manga from 1999. Problematic. Aged badly. It happens.

BUT.

In retrospect, most of it is such a kick in the metaphorical butt of shonen manga as a whole I can’t believe it was competing against Naruto and One Piece at some point?? Like

It’s a shonen so it plays the "dramatic and sudden power jump” game, but it uses it to reach a surprising conclusion (in the “new” ending I mean)

Most of the characters are “shamans” which means they can see ghosts and spirits, and they use them to fight, to work, or to help other people. This is a manga in which you’re gonna see a Russian shaman channeling a Vodyanoy spirit into a drum to create a torrential flood. You don’t see that in every manga

It’s stated right away that no shaman can be truely, irredeemably bad, because only good-natured people can see ghosts and spirits.

So, no matter how bad a villain may be, they must have had a good nature once even if they look like a complete bastard at the moment.

How far is the author willing to go with that concept? Pretty far

Even without talking about the main villain and how the story ends because, duh, spoilers... Like

My favorite character, who gets a full redemption arc later, cuts someone open in his first chapter

He’s one of the good guys 10 volumes later

Speaking of which the amount of gore in this manga has to be seen to be believed, Jump would never let this happen nowadays

If you’re wondering why this is in the “positive” (......?) list it’s because I was 14/15 and all kids that age crave blood and angst

The main character, Yoh, pictured above, is very laid-back, and I mean very. He listens to the in-world equivalent of Bob Marley and constantly wears big headphones. Also he wears sandals, and sometimes there’s a weed leaf drawn on his t-shirt

His parents arranged a mariage between him and a girl shaman even though they’re still teenagers, so this would have potential for High Drama - but surprisingly enough it turns out they like each other and after that he just goes around saying “this is my future wife” and she’s like “hello if you touch him I’m going to end you”

It sounds weird and it......... is, tbh, but it’s also refreshing among all the “ugh, girls, yuck” tropes that nearly all shonen mangas used to have at the time

Yoh’s main goal in life is to live with minimal effort

When his grandfather tells him he must train to participate in a shaman tournament which happens every 500 years, because the winner gets a wish granted by the Great Spirit, he decides his wish will be to make everybody’s life easy so that nobody will ever be forced to work or do shit they don’t want to do to survive anymore

Yoh Asakura is a Millenial icon don’t @ me

Speaking of which

Almost everyone in this series is broke as f█ck

Yoh owns a big house but that’s only because the price was ridiculously low since it’s the most haunted place in Tokyo and nobody else wants to live there. The house is constantly full of other characters (including enemies) who have literally nowhere else to go

The only important character who isn’t broke has money because his family is super rich but he hates all of them because they’re all bastards so it’s super awkward

Another character bought a really cool motorbike but he’s going to be in debt for the next 40 years

Also he’s a hobo

And also bi

What I’m trying to say is: relatable

Also the tournament is held by an imaginary Native American tribe. They’re also broke. All of them. The two judges who are in charge of the main characters live in a cramped appartment and often try to sell souvenirs in the street to pay the rent

I know that’s hashtag problematic but I still love them I can’t help it

Just like in most shonen mangas the hero seems to amass a big collection of Friends but since everyone is a weirdo in a way or another and comes from all over the world it looks even funnier

At some point during the tournament, the main characters have to form small groups of three in order to participate to the next part. Yoh’s team is one of the strongest teams among the ones we’ve met at this point, and is composed of 1) Yoh, a laid-back sleepy kid wearing toilet sandals 2) the aforementioned bi hobo who’s sad because his current crush is in a rival team, and 3) a thirty-something tatooed guy with no legs and an IV drip and who looks like he hasn’t slept since 1997

Oh and they all wear adds for a bath house

Because remember: everyone’s f█cking broke

Spoilers for the mid-point of the manga but I need to talk about it because it encapsulates everything I used to love in it

You’ve been warned

So

At some point the main character, Yoh, is asked to choose between staying in the tournament or resurrect his rival

This is framed as some kind of very heavy, very huge dilemma. Like oh no what will he do. Will he give up his dreams and hopes. Will You Push The Button(tm)

So the choice is presented to him

In a very dramatic way

And he immediately goes “there’s a way to save him?? YES PLEASE”

He doesn’t hesitate a single second and drops the tournament in a heartbeat to save the guy

This scene greatly contributed to make me a better person I’m not even joking at all

I love Yoh

So anyway I don’t have a proper conclusion for this

Shaman King is very flawed and its flaws need to be acknowledged to fully appreciate all the good things in it, and the “old” fandom from more than 15 years ago was a very good formative experience for me because the forum I was on (which was nuked from the face of the internet by a hacker “looking for training grounds” (his words not mine, he posted it on our frontpage a full week before he did it) in 2005, rip) was full of people who were really into criticising every little aspect of the manga but still loved it dearly

And I think that’s a healthy way to enjoy things and I think we should bring this back

Anyway

Shaman King extremely flawed but full of good things

I still can’t believe it’s back

Johannes out

[mfb-better-fury]

Episode 1

Night

In an observatory, a boy is alerted to the new star fragment and searches for it through his telescope. Upon seeing it he becomes excited to have finally found it.

In an area of ruins, a hooded figure watches the star fragment fall and speaks to himself: “When a dazzling light shines brightly on the earth, from the heavens a new star fragment will arrive and awaken a great power.” He then calls to the star fragment to give that great power to “the black sun”.

As both watch, the star fragment splits into 13 pieces. One piece targets the observatory and hits the boy and his bey Mercury Anubius. He is knocked to the floor from the impact but quickly rises to his knees to ensure his bey’s safety.

As the other fragments fall, one piece makes its landing near the ruins. The hooded figure demands to know what’s going on then calls for Johannes, telling him to collect the scattered pieces. When Johannes disappears, the figure muses to himself that it is only a matter of time before “Nemesis” is revived.

Madoka has just finished the repairs on Galaxy Pegasus from the battle against Spiral Force when she watches a piece of the star fragment fly past her window. She assumes that she imagined it due to her exhaustion.

A woman with long blue hair is cleaning the parts of a bey when a piece of the star fragment comes in through the window, knocking her from her chair. It’s a struggle for her to get to her knees and look across the desk, but she finds the parts of the bey dimly sparkling. After the brief difficulty to get back in her seat, she picks up the parts to look at them closer, then sighs and decides it’s something to worry about in the morning. She reassembles the bey and uses a cane to get to her feet, then turns off the desk light. Storm Aquario is left gleaming in the darkness.

Next Day

At Bey Park, the semi-final round of a tournament is taking place, commentated by Blader DJ and Gingka. Kenta is battling.

Gingka continuously tries cheering for Kenta even though DJ keeps reminding him he must be neutral.

In the final battle, Kenta uses Flame Claw, raising Gingka's urge to battle. After the tournament, Kenta and Gingka head to the B-Pit, Kenta with his victory trophy. Madoka is asleep at her desk, but Pegasus' repairs are complete.

Madoka is awakened by Gingka's antics, and he thanks her fervently for her work.

With Pegasus repaired, Gingka and Kenta are eager to battle and run out, Madoka chasing after them. Immediately after exiting, a plunger arrow shoots down at them, prompting Gingka to push Kenta down. The arrow sticks to the B-Pit’s outside wall just as Madoka steps out.

Gingka finds a message tied to the arrow, challenging him to a battle. They head to the misty island mentioned in the letter.

Gingka, Kenta, and Madoka arrive at the coast of the misty island to find no one waiting for them, prompting Gingka's anger. Kenta and Madoka discuss the strangeness of Gingka being challenged right as Pegasus' repairs are complete.

A rowboat appears in the mist and the challenger is revealed to be Kyoya, rowed by Benkei. Kenta and Madoka express their lack of enthusiasm to seeing another battle between Gingka and Kyoya, causing Benkei to get riled up and then fall out of the boat.

Benkei reminds them that in Gingka and Kyoya's last battle during the World Championships the two tied. Kyoya is here to settle that score.

Kyoya jumps out of the boat and readies Leone. Gingka agrees to battle with him. Kyoya states that the entire island will be their battlefield.

Rock Leone VS Galaxy Pegasus begins

There’s an immediate burst of dust at initial contact. Gingka and Kyoya begin running along the island coast, causing their friends to make chase. Using Lion Gale Force Wall, Kyoya has Leone create a tornado of sand, which Benkei boasts about. Madoka uses her computer to gather an explanation they can understand.

The sand twister picks up Pegasus and hurls it against a nearby boulder, smashing the stone into rubble. Pegasus recovers at Gingka’s call, but Kyoya has Leone and its twister pick up the debris to hurl at its opponent. Madoka and Kenta call this out, but Benkei quiets them and Kyoya claims this is a battle to see who will survive.

Gingka is a little miffed at the realization that these tactics are why Kyoya picked the location he did. Kyoya declares this is the way of the lion’s hunt and the way of his strength. At this, Gingka can’t help but agree, knowing Kyoya’s ways and recalling their first battle.

Gingka then announces that he won’t let himself lose, and directs Pegasus straight for Leone and its tornado. Kyoya mocks this, but Gingka knows what he’s doing. When Pegasus is picked up by the wind this time, it crashes into a tree that topples over on top of Leone, instantly dispersing the sand twister. Madoka and Kenta cheer.

Kyoya initially gives brief props to Gingka, but Leone then breaks through the tree and frees itself. Seeing this Gingka decides to lead Kyoya into the forest for a change of environment. Coming across a gathering of tall boulders, Leone uses them to gain height and achieve a domino effect of knocking the flat-sided rocks forward with the intent of crushing Pegasus.

Madoka calls a frightened warning to Gingka, who in turn calls for Pegasus to ride the last boulder, slanted like a ramp, and jump. It evades the falling domino rocks and smashes into another boulder ahead, which shoots debris back toward Leone. Madoka, Benkei, and Kenta have more trouble avoiding this debris than Kyoya and Leone do.

As the beys continue clashing, Kenta complains the battle is getting out of hand. Madoka growls about having just finished repairing Pegasus.

More boulders are destroyed in the fight and Gingka commends Kyoya on his strength and the battle. Kyoya replies with a promise to settle things, which Gingka denies due to Pegasus’ attack-type strength giving him the advantage in a head-on battle. Gingka aims to prove this by having Pegasus loop around to hit Leone just as such rather than in a racing style. Leone is sent flying and lands in a lake of mud, though manages to stay above the surface.

Gingka calls for Pegasus’ Starbooster Attack, using two trees as walls to gain height and soar above. Pegasus’ spirit appears, making Kenta cheer. Madoka adds that Leone is stuck in the mud meaning it’s unable to use its own move in retaliation.

As Pegasus shoots down, Kyoya calls to Leone, which swirls up the mud in a tower to catch Pegasus’ attack. Benkei attempts to name this move but struggles, making Kenta comment to simply call them all “Lion Gale Force Wall”.

Both battlers urge on their beys, with Pegasus cutting through the tornado. However, when the light clears, Pegasus is now in the mud and Leone is nowhere to be seen. Kyoya calls their attention to the sky, where Leone now spins after riding its tornado. Benkei praises his friend.

Leone flips itself over and Kyoya calls for its King Lion Reverse Windstrike. He then taunts Gingka for his backfiring plan in changing their location and claims his only reason to grow stronger is to finally defeat him.

Gingka counters Kyoya’s words claiming that whenever Kyoya gets stronger, he’ll become stronger still, and that he and Pegasus are in agreement on this. Kyoya brushes this off and calls to his own bey, having it ride down the center of its reverse tornado to smash into Pegasus, yelling that this time he will defeat Gingka.

In this moment, Kyoya and Leone awaken their power. The resulting energy destroys the mud pond and leaves a crater in its wake as Leone evolves, and Pegasus plummets to the ground beside Gingka, landing on its side. Everyone is completely stunned.

Kenta questions Madoka as to when she added this feature and why she kept it a secret, but she denies having anything to do with it. Rather than cheering, Benkei suddenly quiets them, staring intently at Kyoya who has gone completely still.

Kyoya’s face holds a bewildered and somewhat haunted expression. He’s completely ignoring the still-spinning, transformed Leone, instead staring across the crater at the defeated Pegasus. “I...won…?”

An energy pulses across Kyoya and he grabs his head. His vision darkens until only he, Leone, and Pegasus are visible. Whispers start to echo around him and he mutters shaking denials, even before the words become clear. The voice is dark and harsh, ordering him over and over that his job isn’t done until Pegasus is destroyed.

In desperation, his eyes shut tight as he continues clutching his head, Kyoya cries Benkei’s name.

Benkei rushes to action, demanding Gingka not touch Pegasus as he runs across the crater to get to Kyoya. As Gingka wonders what’s going on, Madoka sees hints of dark energy flickering around Kyoya, making her think back to Tsubasa’s battles against the dark power during the World Championships. Realization hits and she cries out in alarm that Kyoya’s been hiding an infection from his battle with Ryuga this whole time, startling Kenta and causing Gingka great concern.

As Benkei gets closer to Kyoya, Leone reacts and moves to block his path. Deciding to shout from where he stands, Benkei calls encouragement to Kyoya, reminding him that he’s beaten this before and he can do it again. This only further worries the other three as they learn how oblivious they’ve been to Kyoya’s plight when Benkei seems to have known all along.

In Kyoya’s blacked-out vision, Benkei’s words are staticky like they’re coming through an old radio, but they are getting through. Slowly Kyoya starts getting a hold of himself and manages to open his eyes, hesitantly looking toward the fallen Pegasus. He doesn’t need to go further. The battle is over. It’s over and he needs to calm down, take a breath-

The whispers turn into a roar, drowning out Benkei’s voice and ordering Kyoya to attack. His strength falters, his eyes glowing red as he stares at Pegasus. The others see Kyoya lower his arms as the dark aura around him starts to grow. Benkei calls out to him, but goes quiet when he hears his friend speak as if in a trance: “Destroy...Pegasus…”

Leone responds, rushing around Benkei toward Gingka and the others. Gingka moves to grab his bey, but Benkei once again orders him not to touch it. Before Leone can make contact with Pegasus, Dark Bull slams into the motionless bey, sending it flying away from danger. Bull takes the hit from Leone head-on, and the explosion knocks Gingka, Kenta, and Madoka back due to their close proximity.

Benkei grits his teeth and holds his ground, ordering Bull to attack Leone in an attempt to divert Kyoya’s attention. Kyoya roars behind him, claiming that if he gets in the way he’ll be destroyed too. The dark aura now fully envelopes him. Madoka is frantically trying to collect data on the new Leone but comes up with nothing. With the way Bull is being pushed back, Kenta realizes Leone isn’t behaving like a defense-type bey at all.

Benkei refuses to surrender, leading the battle away from Gingka and the others and calling Kyoya’s name. There is no reaction.

As Leone mercilessly attacks Bull, Benkei calls out again, this time telling Kyoya to remember Battle Bladers, to remember how they were hurt during it because of the Dark Nebula and Lightning L-Drago. Benkei demands to know if that’s what Kyoya wants to happen again, and if he wants to be responsible for repeating it – responsible for hurting his friends. Benkei asks Kyoya if he intends to hurt the people he’s been trying to protect all this time.

In the darkness, Kyoya jolts. Fuzzy memories of Battle Bladers dance around him – Reiji’s battles against Hyoma, Kenta, and Gingka. Yu showing up severely injured due to his own battle against him. Ryuga’s battles against Hikaru and Tsubasa. Ryuga’s battle against him.

Beyond the voice controlling him, Kyoya begins to hear others. Benkei’s first, encouraging him, promising that he won’t tell anyone and he’ll stay by his side. Nile’s comes next, chastising Kyoya for being stupid enough not to tell them about this; Demure’s voice chimes in with concern and asking what they can do to help.

Then, Kyoya’s own voice: “I know how to stop this. But I can’t do it by staying here.”

Tsubasa answers: “Whatever happens, we have each other, right?”

Hikaru adds: “Maybe I can’t be out there battling with you guys right now...but I’m with you no matter what.”

Kyoya slowly clenches his firsts, his breathing becoming strained. “I...won’t…”

In the battle, Leone’s attacks against Bull start to lose power and speed. Kyoya begins to growl, catching everyone’s attention. He grabs his head again, but this time the dark aura appears to be shrinking, bright green taking its place. Benkei immediately starts calling to him again, affirming his belief that Kyoya can pull out of it. Though scared and still not certain of the entire situation, Kenta and Madoka do the same. Gingka is silent, watching the events fearfully.

With a roar echoed by Leone’s spirit as it appears in a sudden storm of wind around them, Kyoya breaks free from the dark power’s grip. Both the aura and the glow to his eyes are fully replaced by blazing green. In response his bey shoots away from Bull, driving itself into the forest leaving destruction in its wake until at last becoming trapped within a boulder and ceasing its spin.

Calling back Bull, Benkei rushes to Kyoya’s side with the others close behind. Kyoya is unsteady on his feet when they reach him. He tries to turn to Gingka, but his vision doubles and he falls against Benkei due to sudden dizziness. He manages to get two words out: “I’m...sorry…” before losing consciousness. Benkei fixes his hold on Kyoya, promising that it’s alright and that everyone is safe. Madoka and Kenta decide to go off to search for Leone.

Gingka stares at Kyoya for several seconds before turning around to look back at Pegasus, still resting where Bull had knocked it back to protect it from Leone’s attack.

The boy from the observatory has arrived at a harbor and is in a great hurry to find Gingka. Unknown to him, Johannes is on his tail.

[josefavomjaaga]

How did Eugène occupy his time after 1814? Did he have any responsibilities or functions, or was he put in mothballs?

First of all, thanks for the question. Eugène’s final years, those ten years of agony that, ostensibly, were filled with nothing but joy and pleasure, are a sad story. But if you want the short version: yes, mothballs, mostly. Or as Eugène put it later to Planat de la Faye: »I have sacrificed my independance for the sake of my family.«

Let’s start at the beginning: In 1814, after Josephine’s death, Eugène left France for good. Despite the fact he still owned both Malmaison and Navarre he would never be allowed to return to his country of birth. After leaving wife and children in Munich, he joined the Congress of Vienna in order to receive that »suitable« principality that was to be given to him according to the treaty of Fontainebleau. He is, to my knowledge, the only »napoleonide« to go to Vienna in person.

His situation there is best summed up in a diary entry by archduke Johann, his former opponent in the war of 1809, about Eugène’s obligatory courtesy visit:

1815, October 3: Beauharnais. I quite liked this man […] He has acted most honestly of all the French; how must he feel; he a few months ago at the head of Italy, now barely a French marshal, begging for some piece of land […]

As Eugène would soon realize, he was indeed reduced to begging, and beggars can’t be choosers. I’ll leave out all the humiliations during the congress, or this will turn too long. In the end, he nominally received his principality: Ponte-Corvo. Yes, Bernadotte’s former principality. It was, however, clear that Eugène would not accept it, but immediately sell it off for, according to Auguste, »12 millions«. With that money, he could settle down whereever he pleased and whereever people wanted to have him (which excluded France, from where Napoleon’s family was exiled).

Eugène chose Bavaria, in order to please Auguste, and because he could expect this country would be the least hostile to him. He was right, as far as regular people and king were concerned, who both loved him dearly. Not so much about nobility and crown prince though.

The relationship between Ludwig of Bavaria and his French brother-in-law is a topic of its own, and I do not know enough about Ludwig to be able to truely comment. Let’s just say that as crown prince, according to the law, he did already have some say in matters of the state, and when King Max Joseph wanted to make Eugène and his children official members of the royal family, i.e., a new branch of the house of Wittelsbach, he intervened. There were family disputes and public humiliations for the pesky French brother-in-law. At one point, Eugène was so fed up he wanted to leave the country, leading to workers rioting in front of Ludwig’s house. In the end, Max Joseph had to give in. He gave Eugène a principality (Eichstätt), the title of a duke (Leuchtenberg) and a status of »first prince after the Royal house of Wittelsbach«, with the rights of a mediatised prince. That was in October 1817.

Just for comparison’s sake: The Kingdom of Italy had had about 6 million inhabitants. Eichstätt had 24,000. The principality also was deficient, it had no real economy to speak of and would always cost Eugène more than it earned him.

But he now was at least officially a nobleman of the country – or as his French biographer Françoise de Bernardy put it, he had found his »corner in the world«. His very, very small corner of the world. He did take part in all court activities, built himself a representative palace in Munich, where he had brilliant parties and receptions, thus ostensibly claiming his former rank, was officially declared colonel of a regiment of chevaux-legers (the 6th, »Leuchtenberg«-regiment), and he belonged to one of the chambers of the Bavarian parliament (Landtag). He even can be seen taking an oath to the Bavarian constitution of 1818 among the Royal princes in the drawing below (in truth, even this was vetoed by Ludwig, Eugène took his oath together with the other nobles).

He did take part in the sessions of the Bavarian parliament and at least once held a speech in German (which was duely noted in all the newspapers!) but in general his personal situation and his lack of language skills prevented him from playing an active role. Auguste was already mortified to see Eugène get involved in politics at all, especially as in the matter concerned Eugène did not agree with his father-in-law and sole protector (Max Joseph wanted to weaken the role of the parliament, Eugène wanted to strengthen it). She would always fear that at some point the family would be chucked out of this refuge they had found.

She needn’t have worried. With that incredible Beauharnais tact, Eugène, a changed man ever since the fall of the empire, overweight, taciturn, circumspect, managed to die one year before king Max Joseph and before, under new king Ludwig I., his person would have become a real burden for his family. He suffered his first stroke during mass of Holy Thursday 1823, then briefly recovered during summer and finally gradually got worse until his death on February 21, 1824.

I have left out his relations with Napoleon on Saint Helena as I am not fully clear about them myself, and in any case, those were hardly political except in the eyes of all the foreign observers and secret agents who seem to have panicked whenever Eugène was seen or even only suspected of doing ... anything.

A drawing by Godefroy Engelmann that, if not directly done by Eugène, seems to be based on a sketch by him, according to the museum of Malmaison, hints at the fact that Eugène was quite aware of what was in store for him:

That would be a French soldier deserting his comrades calling after him, led by his wife to a future where a cross (Auguste was indeed very religious) rises above some faceless figures.

Or as he told Planat: »My position here is fake and entirely dependent on the king.«

[flamingredanon]

For the jewel baron siren Henry AU:

After a while of having the jewels, Henry finds his siren abilities have grown and he can now look human. His first thought, find some more shiny things, second thing he'd do after snatching everything that caught his eye? Well go check out those vicious fishermen and make sure they haven't caught any fellow sirens. Which they had, he manages to get the red headed siren, by the name of Ellie, out of those fishermen's hands and back to the water. Where they would be safe for a bit.

Henry, would then decide to go find those Toppat pirates and see if they have anything else shiny, Ellie decides to join him as she thought he would be fun. It really was, especially when they saw the Toppats faces as they got more of their shiny valuables and got another siren friend with the name of Dave Panpa.

The next thing Henry wanted to do was find those sailors and steal more things, as he really liked how every time he stole something shiny, that caught his eye, his abilities grew and he was able to do more. He was getting greedier.

Ellie and Dave weren't really having fun around Henry anymore. Sure he helped them out, but his goals were growing more corrupt with more things he stole.

When Henry wasn't out stealing things, he was toying with the silly humans. He especially grew fond of Wright, who was not only finding it harder to resist Henry's songs, but it was getting harder for Captain Reginald to snap Wright out of it when he was under the siren's song. And one day Wright disappeared, and the Captain knew why.

So a rare alliance sprang up with Captain Reginald of the Toppat Pirates, General Galeforce of the Government navy and Dmitri Johannes Petrov of The Wall United Fishermen. This white hair siren was growing stronger, and now they had kidnapped a human. They all agreed that the siren must be stopped.

So they laid out a plan to lure the siren with some fake jewels in an abandoned ship, making sure that their ears are covered and having a trap laid just incase he tries to sic Wright on them.

Henry was skeptical about these jewels, thinking about what to do while hugging Wright's arm. But the temptation was too strong, he just had to get stronger. Henry just needed to hum a few notes and Wright only growled, grabbing his sword and following Henry as they set out for the treasure.

Meanwhile, Ellie and Dave was grabbing Henry's treasures left and right, swimming very far off with them, so that when Henry returned, his treasures would be gone.

---

Henry had Wright scope out the inside of this abandoned ship, not trusting the ship, but Wright came back with a simple head nod that gave Henry the all clear to explore the ship. Henry was now getting giddy, with Wright still near him as they explored the ship.

Wright pushed Henry away as a net snagged Wright and hoisted him up. Henry bared his fangs as several people slowly surrounded him. Henry tried singing, to bring about more humans to his hold and save his hide, but the music didn't work.

And without water, Henry couldn't just swim to safety. So while he did fight back with claws and fangs, it wasn't enough and the beast was killed, dissolving into bubbles.

Wright was hoisted down, quite confused on how he got on the ship. Captain Reginald just showered his second in kisses, glad his Wright was freed from the spell.

---

Soon the three groups went their separate ways, no longer fearing the siren that caused trouble. And Dave and Ellie swam their different ways, wanting to get far away from the humans. Everyone however learned a lesson in greed and not letting it consume you, the story of the greedy siren being passed down for generations.