#the young girl that carries such a huge burden of responsibility on her shoulders

[mitski]

RWBY (09x04)

Just answer the question. What are you? Are you sure you know? You have to be sure of what you are, and what you are going to be.

[dragonedged-if]

My Second Interactive Novel

Dragon's Edged is an interactive novel, about a Author of a IF died and reincarnated to their own IF.

There are 4 love interest for you to choose from, 2 males and females each with their own past and secrets for you to learn!

(Note: The RO's are not final. I might add more in the near future and that no romance is not a option. Also, I want this novel open as much as possible not restricting itself to the medieval time era or any kind of era. For example, I might put modern music in the novel.)

(Warning: 18+ The story includes the following: Violence, , self-doubt, cliché's and many more will be added in the future.)

Links:

Demo: Prologue To Chapter 5, Discord

Introduction:

A mournful voice echoes through the room, as a figure gazes into a shattered mirror and sees a crowd surrounding a lifeless body. They brush away tears and make a swift gesture, causing the mirror to vanish and leaving them alone with their thoughts. "I must prepare for the ritual," they mutter, feeling the weight of responsibility heavy on their shoulders.

Lost in contemplation, they are suddenly interrupted by a loud crash as their door is thrown open. Furious at the intrusion, they turn to scold the person responsible, only to see Lucian standing there with a troubled expression.

"What is it?" they inquire, confusion evident in their voice. Lucian's somber tone and sorrowful gaze give them pause. "I had to be sure," he says quietly, his words hanging heavily in the air. Curiosity piqued, Lucille can't help but wonder what Lucian has discovered that has him so distraught.

The siblings were divine beings, with the ability to sense every life that was extinguished on Earth. She, the Goddess of Life, and he, the God of Fertility. But the question lingered in her mind - why were their roles reversed? Was it expected for a woman to oversee fertility? Despite this, they both carried out their duties with unwavering dedication.

Suddenly, she noticed a tearful expression on her brother's face as he blurted out his inquiry. "What is it, my Brother?" she asked with sharp eyes. But she was taken aback when he sobbed, "My favorite author has passed away!" Lucille couldn't help but sigh in exasperation and cover her face with her hand. "Oh, brother…" feeling a mix of annoyance and amusement at his display of grief.

Story:

You were once a renowned IF writer, but that title now seems like a distant memory. Your game, "Dragon's Edged," was a masterfully crafted tale of a protagonist imbued with the power and burden of a dragon's soul. But the dragon in your story wasn't one to make things easy for the MC - it was ruthless and stubborn, always seeking to kill them at any opportunity. Despite the challenges, you finished the game and released it to the world. To your surprise, it was immensely popular on "Rumblr" and gained a huge following. But then tragedy struck - an accident took your life, leaving your memories hazy and your spirit confused. As you try to come to terms with your sudden departure from the realm of the living, fragments of memory start to piece together. You remember walking out of the bakery with a cake in hand, ready to celebrate your father's birthday with your family.

You were walking down the street when a young girl suddenly stepped out in front of a speeding car. The next thing you knew, your world went dark and you couldn't remember anything that happened afterwards. But then, amidst the blackness, a melodic voice spoke to you and informed you that you would be reborn. Not only that, but you would be reincarnated into the world of your favorite story. It's a bittersweet feeling, leaving behind your old life for a new one, albeit fictional. But there's no going back now, and as they say, beggars can't be choosers - especially if they're already with the dead.

"A walk in the park!" you proudly declare your epitome of greatness, confident in your knowledge of every twist and turn in the story.

But then a sudden voice shatters your moment of triumph.

"Wait, there's one more thing!" it interjects.

"You know the IF you thought you knew? The Gods have rewritten it!"

"Oh!" your heart races with fear and wonder.

For life would lose its thrill and spark, if everything came with ease and bark. Don't you agree, oh dear Reader of mine? That challenges and strife make life divine?(But Nah, I just want to screw MC's life even more LMAO 😂🤣)

Features:

Pick your MC's gender

*Customize your MC's physical appearance.

*Make choices that will affect the story and the people around you.

*Choose your class and mastery.

*Can you find love among the characters that you created? Know their new story, see what makes them tick. 2 males and 2 females with their own personality.

*Will you follow the story that is dictated in the book or will you make your own narrative.

*Battle liches, dark knights, tackle conspiracy and many more!.

*Oh! A surprise character will be waiting for you in the story!

Romance Options:

"Clara Dacre, The Royal Princess"

"Do not envy the life of a monarch, for it is not all glamour and spark. Like a flower that wilts without rain, the weight of duty causes great strain.?

Physical Appearance:

In the kingdom, there is no one quite like the Royal Heir to the throne, Clara. She is the eldest of her brothers and the one who will one day rule the kingdom. At first glance, she appears a little shy, but once you get on her good side, the two of you can talk for hours with tea, of course! However, something is amiss - did you just watch her behead an enemy? It seems the gods have done her dirty by changing her sweet and kind attitude into something feisty and ferocious.

Do not underestimate her gentle nature, for Clara is a fierce and formidable warrior on the battlefield. Raised by her parents to defend against any potential threats(I forgot to mention with Lucas being her part time coach! Sheesh!), she exudes courage and fearlessness in every fight, willing to lay down her life for her cause. To Clara, her royal status is a mere hindrance to her true passions and pursuits - she much prefers taking matters into her own hands rather than being confined to a throne all day. She will stop at nothing to ensure the safety of her future kingdom, eradicating any who dare threaten its peace and prosperity.

Despite her title as princess, Clara defies all expectations of a noble lady. She is the embodiment of scandal and temptation, unbound by royal constraints. With a reputation as the kingdom's infamous trickster, she relishes in ruffling feathers and causing chaos. But beneath her playful facade lies a woman brimming with fire and vitality. She is fearless and outspoken, not constrained by societal norms but driven by pure pleasure and adventure. Her desires and passions guide her unapologetic actions, whether it be pursuing a new interest or indulging in a romantic liaison.

"Do you have what it takes to tame her untamed spirit? To match her sharp wit and irresistible charm? The one who can make her erupt with laughter, blush with desire, and moan in pleasure? But can you also capture her heart and make her yours for eternity? Can you withstand the trials and treachery that come with loving the Royal Heir, whose enemies are many and admirers countless? Are you bold enough to prove your love and earn her unwavering trust?"

"With a personality that will leave you in awe, captivated, and entranced, this character will ignite your senses and invigorate your spirit. Her fierce demeanor and playful spirit will keep you on the edge of your seat, craving more of her every move, every touch, every kiss. Can you handle the challenge of taming this rebellious princess? Or will you succumb to her siren song like so many before? The choice is yours, but be warned - she may just steal your heart in the and break it in the process."

"Lucas Pierce, The Royal Bodyguard Of The Princess"

Physical Appearance:

"Amidst this world of foes and deceit, I trust only my own feet. With caution and suspicion, I tread, for allies are earned, not simply said. So beware and be warned, for I am the judge and jury, And those who betray me will surely face my rightful fury."

In the realm of Rumblr, there is no individual more enigmatic and savage than Lucas. Despite his cruel tendencies, he remains the most adored and sought-after figure by his loyal Lucas-mancer(Namely, you). As the protector of the princess, Lucas exudes a piercing gaze that could cut through solid metal, and a menacing aura that surrounds him at all times. His unpredictable nature means he disregards hierarchy and social status. To him, if you pose a threat, he will not hesitate to bring you down, even if it means facing off against the most renowned figures in the kingdom.

As those who dare cross him quickly learn that he plays by his own rules. In this treacherous land, Lucas reigns supreme as the ultimate enigma

Doubtful do you? Not even the princess's closest confidants or her own comrades are immune to his scrutiny and interrogation before gaining an audience. Lucas is fiercely dedicated, meticulous, and swift in his actions - a master of the blade. But beneath his hardened facade, lies a deep sense of solitude that only the princess can ease.(Well, in his case only those he allows to ease his loneliness LOL!)

Can you convince him that there is more to life than his job? That there is love to be found in the world, and that he is worthy of it? not interested in making friends or finding lovers, as he is entirely focused on his role as the Royal Protector. But as you spend more time with him, you notice something different about him - a vulnerability that he keeps hidden from the world, before he shuts himself again and much more fortified than before, cementing the cracks you made to his defenses.

"Will you be to thaw his icy heart and reveal the beauty of life to him? Will you be the only person to see past his apathy, unearthing his tender side? The only one who can ignite a spark in him, making him experience joy and emotion once more? Are you brave enough to break down his barriers and touch his very soul? Can you make him understand that there is more to life than work, and that he is deserving of love? Or will he push you away and keep you at arm's length, never allowing anyone to get too close to him again?"

"Get ready to be swept away by a character whose intensity will leave you breathless and mystery will keep you on the edge of your seat. He is a challenge you can't resist, a thrill you can't deny, and a danger you can't resist. With just one look, he will ignite a fire in you that burns hotter than anything you've ever felt before. Can you win his heart and claim it as your own? Or will you become just another obstacle in his path of seclusion?"

"Lucian, The God Of Fertility"[M]

Physical Appearance:

"Your story, dear Author, is my dream come true. To be a part of it, that's all I want to do. I'll cherish each word, each page, each line. Being a character in your tale would truly be divine"

In the realm of the gods, there is one who stands out among the rest - the God of Fertility, Lucian. But the question remains, why is a man in charge of such an important department? It's not often you see men in this role, but Lucian doesn't seem to mind. In fact, he loves his job and performs it with enthusiasm.

He is the one who blesses the land with abundance, the animals with offspring, and the people with children. He is the one who makes the world a more beautiful and joyful place. But he is also a man who loves to have fun and enjoy himself. He is a fanboy and a friend.

Lucian is not your typical god. He does not act like a solemn and serious deity, but like a cheerful and playful child. He is always smiling, laughing, and joking around, making everyone around him feel at ease. He does not care about status or rank, but only about happiness and friendship. He is friendly to everyone he meets, and he treats them with kindness and respect.

But Lucian’s favorite person in the world is you - the MC, his beloved author. He is your biggest fan, your most loyal supporter, and your most devoted admirer. He reads every word you write, he leaves likes and comments on every post, he sends you gifts and messages of encouragement. He loves your stories, your characters, your imagination.

When you die, Lucian is heartbroken. He mourns your loss, he misses your presence, he longs for your return. But when you are reincarnated and come back to life, Lucian is overjoyed. He rejoices in your resurrection, he celebrates your comeback, he welcomes you with open arms.

Lucian’s love for you is pure, sincere, and unconditional. He will always be there for you, to support you, to protect you, to cheer you up. He will always be faithful to you, to respect you, to admire you, to cherish you.

He's goodwill, childish antics, and friendly nature make it easy to trust him. But could there be something more to his affable demeanor? Is there a hidden agenda behind his loyalty to the MC? Only time will tell.

Can you return his love? Can you envision him as anything other than a fanboy or a platonic companion? Are you willing to embrace him as a romantic partner or equal? Lucian's journey will evoke laughter, tears, and butterflies in your stomach. His wit and charisma will captivate you, while his talents and strengths (Seriously! Don't rely on his god-like abilities) will leave you in awe.

"Prepare to fall deeply in love with his character. The unwavering loyalty and fierce protectiveness he shows towards his beloved author will melt your heart. His carefree nature will captivate you, and his clever wit will leave you in fits of laughter. But don't be fooled by his playful facade, for within him lies a powerful and competent god who will stop at nothing to ensure the safety and happiness of those he holds dear. Who knows maybe soon enough he will be having you writing a snippet about the two of you?"

"Songixoninne(Variel), The Raging Inferno"[F]

Physical Appearance:

Left: This is her human looks without the draconic traits.

Right: Just a interpretation on how she will look like if I managed to add her dragon traits.

The tattoos, scales and sharp fingers, the red slits for eyes, etc.

"Oh pitiful humans, so frail and meek. How dull and mundane, your existence I abhor. Oh how I long for a challenge, yearning for an equal rival and a worthy foe , to match my strength and bring me woe, to truly thrive and to establish my sovereignty, that will be my drive."

You have braved endless perils and faced insurmountable challenges, but none can match the terror that is Variel. This dragon has left a trail of destruction and despair across countless worlds, earning the wrath of gods and mortals alike. And now, her cursed soul is irrevocably tied to yours, forcing you to share a fate with the most vile being in existence.

But as you finally confront this fearsome creature, you come to realize that she is more than just a monster. She is a dragoness with a name that strikes fear into the hearts of all who hear it, and her cruel and contemptuous demeanor makes her an unbearable presence. With sadistic delight, she inflicts torture upon you, using her immense power to dominate you as a ruthless tyrant. And yet, even as she mocks and belittles you at every turn, there is something alluring and intriguing about this wicked dragon.

Yet, despite her evil, you find yourself drawn to Variel. She is clever and witty, making you chuckle or cry with her sarcasm and dark humor. She is fierce and proud, showing off her skills in magnificent and flashy feats of magic. She is blunt and honest, telling you what she thinks without holding back or lying.

And as you journey with her, you begin to see hints of something else. A softness hidden under her hard shell, a warmth buried under her cold words, a yearning concealed under her fierce gaze. Could it be that she is falling for you? Or is it just another scheme to satisfy her twisted urges?

Despite her flaws, the dragoness exudes an irresistible allure, drawing you in with her charm and fierce energy. But can you withstand the barbs and jabs that come with being in her presence? Will you dare to challenge her, igniting her fiery temper? Or will you succumb to her, falling for the once-enemy now companion who holds your heart in her claws? Allowing her to have dominion over your emotion and soul!

"Enter into a world of unbridled pain and thrilling adventure as you uncover her story. Brace yourself for the whirlwind of emotions that come with encountering her complex persona, adorned with sadistic tendencies and domineering ways. You'll be simultaneously drawn in by her irresistible charm and terrified by her dangerous allure. From antagonist to ally, this dragoness will captivate you, leaving you desperate for more. Will you emerge victorious, or will Variel revel in your demise while you scream in agony? The choice is yours."?"

[possiamo-andare]

Just You (1)

JJ x Reader x Rafe (love triangle)

MASTERLIST

word count: 3.1k

summary: A new girl moves to OBX and a love triangle ensues. Your usual yearning, fluff writing :)

a/n: gosh, it has been too long. university has me swamped but since it’s the holiday break, i will try and update as much as i can. as of rn my other fic, sweeter, is on hold, while i try to write more and get back into the groove of things :) love y’all <3 

~

Many people do not care to know the difference between new and old money. To the working class, new and old money were relatively the same. To some extent, that was true. People that had either new or old money were rich nonetheless but when you grew up rich like Rafe Cameron did, the difference was all that mattered.

The main difference was how the money was procured. Old money was passed down. No one from old money had to work since they were born rich. Their manners were taught at a young age. New money meant that they had worked for what they had. At some point, they were not rich and now they were. They were not as defined and they had to be taught, at an older age, how to act. Rafe’s mother used to say you could see who was from old and new money from their ties. If it was a man, their ties would be neutral colours, nothing flashy. People from new money usually had something to prove and so they would buy extravagant things. For women, it was their heels. Women from old money had small heels that were polished as well. Women from new money had tall heels and they had never learned that they should polish the heel along with the shoe.

Growing up as someone from old money, Rafe had normalized that there was a divide between the rich people in Figure 8. Of course, there was a divide between the Pogues and the Kooks but that divide was course and palpable. This divide was subdued and rarely ever spoken about. Kooks that came from old money lived on the west side of Figure 8 while the Kooks from new money resided on the east. This unspoken rule proved to be useful since the two groups of rich snobs never liked to speak to each other anyways. This rule had been in place years before Rafe was even born and he had thought it would still be there even after he died. That is, until Y/N moved in down the street.

It was at the beginning of June when she moved in. The first sign that things would end terribly was when her family pulled into the parking lot. Her mother drove a beat up blue Camaro while her father trailed behind in a black motorcycle. Most people that lived on the west side of the island didn’t have flashy cars but they were well maintained and not so loud. Everyone knew they were from new money before they even exited their cars. And when they did, it was confirmed these people had just become wealthy.

Rafe’s family, like most on the street, watched from their windows as a tall, burly man with a long black beard and sunglasses opened the truck of his wife’s car and carried two large bags in the door. His two sons, both similar in size and features, followed after him. They carried two pink suitcases inside as the man’s daughter and wife stayed outside to open their garage.

Rafe’s eyes glanced over their house. It was one of the bigger houses on the block but it looked more like a huge cottage than anything else. His mind went to the thought of hippies invading their neighbourhood. He gulped. If they were some type of laid back, motorcycling hippies, he’d go crazy for sure. He knew Sarah would love them though; she always complained about how boring their neighbourhood was. But boring meant normal and that’s what Rafe wanted.

As his mother gossiped on the phone, Rafe watched the mother and the daughter laugh together. The mother looked like a hippie. Her hair was tied up on the top of her head and it had clearly not been brushed. She wore a light green skirt that reached to her ankles which then led to the flip flops that she wore. A white t-shirt was tucked into her skirt and she had big bracelets of all different colours dangling off her wrists. The daughter’s style was similar to her mother’s. She wore pink bootcut jeans and a white crop top, black chunky platform boots pulling the look together. Her hair was different from her mothers and was let down to blow in the breeze. They all looked like polar opposites from everyone else living in Figure 8.

At first, Rafe could care less about the girl or her family across the street. Granted, he would religiously watch through the window for when she would come outside to ride her bike around the neighbourhood with her brothers, and yes, he would sometimes wait until she was outside for him to take out the trash but he didn’t like her. If anything, it was the opposite. Rafe was too good for her. At least, that’s what he led himself to believe.

The first time he spoke to her was two weeks after she moved in. His mother had told him to stay away from Y/N’s family and Rafe had done an amazing job at doing so. Unfortunately, that all stopped when he had to pick Sarah up from school. She had thrown up in the middle of one of her classes and since both his mother and father were at work, the responsibility was on Rafe to pick Sarah up and make sure she was okay. Although reluctant to go back to his old highschool, Rafe knew he’d be in trouble if he was late in picking up his sister. When he entered the school's administration office, he finally came face to face with the girl he had been watching for two weeks now. Except, her back was turned to him as she argued with the secretary.

“That’s what you call a vegetarian dish?” Y/N raised her voice, not particularly enjoying being ignored by the school administration. When she first had come to this school, she had checked off on her form that she needed vegetarian dishes for lunch. Now, everyday since she had come, they had served her horribly chopped up lettuce with vinegar.

“Miss -” Ms. Buzden said, placing her phone on hold. It was the student’s lunch break so she usually called her sister during this time but Y/N was keeping her from doing so.

“Y/N.” Y/N smiled, finally happy she had caught the woman’s attention.

Ms. Buzden rolled her eyes, sighing deeply. “Y/N, dear, if you have a problem with lunch, please take it up with the lunch ladies.”

Y/N sighed, leaning against the secretary’s desk. “I tried to, Beth, but she told me to come here. I will not be ignored.”

Rafe was almost as surprised as Ms. Buzden was when Y/N used her first name. As he stood behind Y/N, waiting for his turn to ask where Sarah was so he could sign her out, he watched in slight amusement at the fact she was nonchalantly complaining to the secretary.

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you dear.” Ms. Buzden forced a smile, finally looking over Y/N’s shoulder to Rafe. “Rafe, sweetie, you’re here to sign out Sarah?”

Rafe hesitated for a moment, knowing Y/N’s eyes were on his. He felt as if an imaginary spotlight had shown on him for a solo and he had forgotten the words. His eyes glanced toward Y/N for a moment but it did not help his stage fright. Her beautiful eyes were squinting in his direction and for a moment he thought he would faint underneath her stare. His eyes quickly returned to the secretary’s and nodded quickly. In an embarrassing turn of events, Y/N spoke before Rafe did.

“Hey, I know you.” Y/N’s bracelets clang together as she lifts her hand up and points at Rafe. “You’re my neighbour. You’re always watching me through your window.”

As the secretary busies herself with printing the paperwork, Rafe busies himself by stuttering and gasping for breath at the accusation she had just posed. In an attempt to save himself from anymore embarrassment, Rafe tries and fails at coming up with a good excuse. Instead, he denies the accusation entirely.

“I do not watch you.” Rafe stubbornly blubbers out. He’s trying not to seem so embarrassed but she’s caught him so off guard that there’s nothing else he can do.

Y/N snickers, watching the poor boy stumble on every word. For someone older than her, he was not very mature. “No, you’re right. Watching would imply a causal aspect to the activity. More like you stalk me.”

This time, Rafe boiled over with anger. How dare this girl accuse him of stalking her? Rafe did not chase after any girl, no matter how attractive she was. “That’s a bit arrogant, isn’t it? To think everyone’s eyes are on you?”

Y/N continued to smile, unbothered by Rafe’s obvious rudeness. She shrugs, looking back to the secretary for a moment and grabbing her terrible vegetarian lunch before looking back to Rafe. “Not everyone’s. Just yours.”

And with that, she leaves the office. And Rafe knows he is screwed, because he just met the love of his life.

~

JJ Maybank shared almost everything with his friends. Emphasis on almost. They had always relied on him to be the funny one. To always goof around and take nothing seriously. So, when his dad first started beating after his mother left, he said nothing. He felt it was an unnecessary burden to put on the people that truly loved him. Eventually, the bruises and scars were too overwhelming to keep a secret anymore and he began to confess all his issues to his friends. But even then, as JJ tried to open up to the people he cared the most about, there was one thing he could never share.

He was scared of love.

Not just any love, but specifically romantic love. Every time he felt himself begin to develop deep feelings for anyone, he soon backpedaled and left them hanging. It was too scary to give himself to anyone. It would be a lie if he said it had nothing to do with his mother leaving. He had always believed that there was no love greater than his parents when he was growing up and when his mother left, it shattered him. Of course, he never blamed her for leaving considering how abusive his dad was but it killed JJ to know she did not want him to come with her. He had begun to believe that she didn’t think he was important to bring along. He believed that if she truly loved him, she wouldn’t leave without him. That’s what scared him the most; the fact that someone can change their mind about love so quickly.

So, JJ ran at the first sign of love. And he never shared this with anyone. Until that day.

In early June, when Y/N had first moved to OBX, there was a Start of Summer Fair. Right after classes ended on the last day of school, people in the community organized a fair for everyone who was excited for the summer to start. It was exactly two weeks after Y/N had moved in. Exactly two hours after she spoke to Rafe. Funny how the world works.

Behind the fair, there was a small lake where rarely anyone ventured. It was usually muddy and no one in their right mind would go swimming there. With that being said, JJ wanted to go swimming there. He had spent a solid hour with his friends at the fair before becoming exhausted. It wasn’t so much that his friends were exhausting him but a girl named Anna was. He had gone out with her once and had never called her back (as per usual) but she had not picked up on the hidden messages JJ had given her. Instead, she followed him around during his entire time at the fair like a little lost puppy dog. Just as she announced she was going to the bathroom, JJ had almost died from boredom. Thankfully, her going to the bathroom let JJ slip away from his friends and sneak away from Anna.

“What do you want us to tell her?” Kie asked, watching as her best friend was breaking off from the group.

JJ shrugged, not possibly being able to care less. “I don’t care. For all I care, tell her I died.” A bit harsh, yes, but that’s how JJ operated. Abandon them before they abandon you.

The idea to hide near the lake hit him as soon as he left his friends. No one went back there, not if they wanted an infection. Although slightly disgusting, if that was what he had to do to get away and have a moment of peace, he would make that sacrifice. Unfortunately, he found no peace because the second the lake came into view between two thick trees, JJ saw a girl in the water. At first, he was going to leave, maybe even shout a quick joke her way for getting in the dirty water. But when he saw what she was doing, he became curious and couldn’t help but venture forward and investigate.

Y/N, too invested in what she was currently doing, did not see JJ approaching at first. Daisies had begun to grow around the lake, which was already odd on it’s own, but some of them floated on the surface level of the lake. Y/N thought a bunch of Daisies would be a good surprise for her mother so, in an effort to be thoughtful, she emerged herself, from the waist down, into the water. She was not afraid of the muddy water staining her white dress (she had worse stains on her clothes), even excited to show her mother the lengths she went to to get the Daisies. So, with one hand, she held onto a wicker basket full of Daisies and with the other hand, she grabbed a hold of the daisies in the water.

JJ watched in complete and utter fascination as this girl who he did not recognize, fearlessly went into the lake and plucked some Daisies to put in her basket. She almost didn’t even look real. He blinked quickly to make sure she was even actually there. When he opened his eyes and she was still there, he was glad he hadn’t imagined her.

Finally, Y/N sensed a presence that was not her own. Quickly turning to her right, she made eye contact with JJ and her face softened. He was the least threatening person she’d ever seen and something about him made her heartbeat pick up.

She brushed this feeling off and instead, with a small smile on her lips, spoke confidently. “Hello stalker.”

JJ blushed, shoving his hands into his pockets and taking a few steps closer to the lake. “I’m sorry. Was just wondering what you’re doing here. No one comes here.”

“You’re here, aren’t you?” Y/N quips backs, a playfulness in her voice.

JJ thinks he might faint. “Um, well, I’m hiding.”

Y/N giggled. “Me too actually.” She grabs more daisies and puts them in her basket. She looks back up at JJ and speaks to him again. “Who are you hiding from?”

JJ gulps. He doesn’t want to scare away this girl by telling her why he’s come back here. He knows anyone else would judge him but, as he looks at her, he can see she would never judge him. “I’m hiding from a girl.”

Y/N nods, not expressing any disgust and JJ’s heart jumps for joy. “I see. Ex-lover, I presume?”

JJ shrugs. “We only went on one date.”

“Must’ve been a terrible date.” She jokes, and JJ realizes that she’s completely stopped what she’s been doing to listen to him.

JJ shakes his head, focused on her cute round cheeks. “Not really. She was nice.”

Y/N pouts. “Then why are you hiding from her?”

JJ feels as though it is too complicated to explain. And besides, how would he start? He’s never told anyone why he truly has never had a girlfriend. But something about this girl makes him trust her completely. He knows it’s the arrogance in her eyes. “I’m scared.”

Y/N nods, as if she understands him completely and he feels as though she does. “I see. You know, when I get irrationally anxious over something like this, I play the What If game.”

JJ’s brows pull together in confusion. “What?”

Y/N moves through the water and closer to the edge where JJ stands. When she arrives at the water’s edge, she reaches her hand out for JJ to grasp. He hesitates first and knows it’s because he likes her so much already and this will be the first time they will touch. The first time he’ll feel her skin against his is beside this muddy lake. Eventually, he grabs her hand and helps her out of the water and he knows, the second his hand touches hers, she’s his dream girl. His hands are on fire and he feels a pit in his stomach grow as her hand grips tighter onto him. There’s a spark and he’s sure there has never been anyone else that made him feel this way.

“The What If game,” Y/N starts, placing her basket on the ground. She starts to ring out the water from her dress but continues to keep eye contact with JJ. “is really easy. Here; tell me a fear you have about falling in love but make sure it starts with ‘what if.’”

JJ thinks for a moment. There are so many and he doesn’t know where to start. Finally, he chooses his biggest fear. “What if she leaves?”

Y/N smiles. “What if she doesn’t though? But, what if she does and then you find who you’re actually supposed to be with? The game is to just rationalize every irrational fear.”

JJ nods, a small smirk growing at the corner of his lips. “You’re not one of those girls who believes every breakup brings you closer to your soulmate?”

Y/N laughs. “Yeah, I wish. I’m not your manic pixie dream girl - wait, what's your name?”

JJ extends his hand, ready to feel her skin again. “JJ Maybank. Yours?”

Y/N smiles and shakes JJ’s hand. This should be interesting, she thinks. “It’s Y/N.”

“So, Y/N,” JJ starts, her name feeling good coming from his mouth. “If you’re not my manic pixie dream girl, then what are you?”

Y/N smiles. She was right. This is definitely going to be interesting. “I’m just yours.”

~

tagging; @tovvaa​

[iamnightduchess]

SnK 139 (A personal thought on Reiner & Mikasa's ending)

We have finally reached the end. For those who began this fandom since 2010, it's been 11 years of happiness, tears and heartbreak, on top of character discourse with our respective favorites. This manga is rich with amazing life values that requires more than just a quick zip through of every chapter. It requires a thorough, repeat reading. Hajime Isayama weaved his universe in a way that never cease to blow all of his readers' minds away but still touched our hearts in an emotional way.

(Special thanks to @pethellhounds for the key pointers for this post!)

No doubt, I love all of the characters, each of their flaws, strengths and growth but my two favorites have always been Mikasa and Reiner, individually.

Upon the first two reads, I was saddened, I was devastated and I allowed my emotions to filter the absolute value of the final chapter; in particularly to my most favorites. All thanks to the discourse we had in our RK discord, my brethren offered me a different perspective on how we could truly perceive ch.139 for what it truly is: a bittersweet farewell which only leads to new beginnings.

Reiner Braun

Armin was destined to save humanity, Eren confided on that himself. Even if it was Mikasa's personal choice on ch.123 that is the ultimatum that had saved humanity by eradicating the power of the Titans from the world for good. As referenced on this post, it has been Mikasa that was destined to free Ymir all along through her selflessness.

Upon first read, the following panel seemed to portray the remaining alliance members in a different light. Everyone looked amazing, happy as they exchanged banter just like how old friends with shared traumatizing experiences do. After all they're all celebrated world heroes - living with possibly an upgraded lifestyle, fame and wealth even within those 3 years. But upon several more reads and deeper observation, one could not entirely disregard the rather dark and gloomy atmosphere beyond the bright surface. In particular Jean and Reiner, who seemed to be a bit more noticeable.

Jean somehow is putting on a front as a skirt-chaser (having preference for younger girls) while Reiner seemed to be simping over his old crush (who's already married & has a child in Paradis).

The above panel seemed comical because the actions & lines seemed a bit "out of nowhere", but beyond the surface - everyone's hurting secretly from within, some are masking their pain, though some remained unaffected because they all shared a heavy burden of guilt towards Eren's death & Mikasa's withdrawal from the group to lay their friend in his final resting place all the way in Paradis. Jean and Reiner both are putting on a front.

Do remember that during the Marley arc, not even once was Reiner shown to reminisce about Historia very specifically. Not even in a fleeting thought, thus why it could also be deduced that she did not actually have a huge impact on his memory or his genuine affections beyond just a fleeting crush to hide his tormented mental state from within. How could someone who has been shown to have tremendous emotional growth and a consistent, albeit shaky psychological regulation during his primary arc was reduced to a typical simp archetype in the final chapter? This is not, a "Reiner can finally be his real self who's free of his burdens & he is someone who's enjoying his new life" moment.

The last time he portrayed this "simping" behavior? When he was 17 years old during the 104th's first SC excursion and when his psyche was almost teetering on its edges as his Warrior!alter is wrestling control against his soldier personality in Utgard Castle.

Reiner's simping (which was an intended joke) was also an indicator of a bleak truth: his DID regressed, from his regulated state and his psyche was completely torn apart from that day. In Marley, he had been extremely depressed but he was a loyal, strong and steadfast soldier who had only his duties in mind. To see him do a complete 360 & reverted to a creepy old behaviour, is truly saddening. He's been masking his pain with this front. Even Pieck could be seen sending him a silent, understanding look of concern for his letter-sniffing action.

In 139, despite having a new chance at life, having his mother's genuine love and acceptance & achieved his original dream in becoming a respected hero who is recorded in history, one could not entirely rule out the possibility that Reiner's DID has regressed to the point that either he reverted back to his soldier persona as a facąde or he'd might have developed a new alter altogether after having to experience Survivor's Guilt for the second turn. Yet this time, with no known time limit since the Curse of Ymir had been eradicated. DID is a lifelong condition. It does not go away, it cannot be healed even with modern medicine but yes, could be managed. That letter, the mentioning of Eren's name and their impending arrival on Paradis - the place he felt the happiest of his life - could be his trigger to put on that front. He, (along with the rest of the alliance on that ship) had to live with the fact that his and his family's new life and future had been at the expense of two people's livelihood; Eren & Mikasa. Eren sacrificed his life. Mikasa chose to bury Eren at his final resting place in Shinganshina and remain there to honor his memories on her own, without anyone by her side despite having fought together & almost on the verge of dying together.

(Thank you @lancerofdarkness for pointing this out!) We can see the banter between Reiner and Jean is very reminiscent of Reiner and Bertolt, where the latter cautioned the former on "not getting too carried away". Where Bertolt had a filtered approach, Jean had a more direct, head-on snipe. This dynamic had been initially observed much earlier in this post.

The alliance members could possibly have made a silent pact between them on not mentioning either Eren or Mikasa's name out of respect for that 3 years. Or if they, as well as the others, were not divulged of the real truth by Armin. With or without this knowledge, Eren's death and Mikasa's silent departure from the alliance do affect everyone. Some are more obvious than the others.

Once again, I feel compelled to share an unpopular perception that Reiner's simping is not his true self's behavior. It is a mask. A fake persona. It is a front to hide the real pain from within.

He cared about both Eren and Mikasa respectively, as much as the others do.

Mikasa Ackerman

Upon first reading, I was initially devastated for Mikasa's conclusion. It was her decision and selfless act that had saved all of humanity and won Ymir over, which completely destroys the Paths as well as removing the titan powers together with its curse. The woman who had been at the frontlines, placing her life at stake, almost dying first to protect the men in the alliance; she who had sacrificed everything ended up with nothing but only memories of the one who could never be and loneliness.

To throw salt into the wound, we saw Eren uttering in Paths on how he refused to accept the notion of Mikasa being with another man, he wanted her to only love him and have him in her heart even 10 years after his death. It was indeed a last spur of the moment declaration that ironically contradicted his plea in 138.

Their relationship was never meant to take off by riding into the sunset together, they are not destined to be with each other, even if their feelings are mutual. Despite my personal observation of their relationship as a form of enslavement in itself: Mikasa still sees it as her devotion & commitment to Eren. I have to respect her perspective on this.

Ymir mistaken Stockholm Syndrome as love, she perceives enslavement as love. Being used as a tool of war and breeding, surrendering all her will to her captor, yearning for his validation - she saw those as love. Now the glaring parallel between Ymir and Mikasa are truly obvious. Because of love, Ymir tethered herself to Paths or purgatory for 2,000 years and in exchange of Mikasa's decision & action, Mikasa remained tethered to her love for Eren & his memories for at least another 10 years if not for the rest of her life on earth. That is truly heartbreaking.

I was devastated. I personally believe she deserves better. She too deserves to have her happy end, to be loved and have a family of her own.

When Armin had dreams of seeing the world beyond the walls, Mikasa has always been a simple girl with simple dreams: i) to go back home within that forest in Shinganshina and ii) to be by Eren's side forever. Once we realised this, Mikasa actually had everything she ever desired after all. She's back home in Shinganshina, living in solitude and in peace with no burden of world peace, diplomatic affairs on her shoulder and has no need to put on a facąde. She's been grieving and she still cried for her yearning to see Eren's face again even after 3 years that she might not stop shedding tears in the next 7 years just like Eren wanted. That is how psychologically and emotionally affected she is with Eren's words, actions and death. She chose to remember Eren and keep her in her heart that it is almost seen as an imprisonment but she's also free from other wordly responsibilities unlike the rest of the alliance members.

Did I wish she would have a better ending than this? Absolutely. This young woman has never been on her own ever since she was born, it's heartbreaking to see her having to process her grief alone without even a single companion by her side. She lost all of her incredible physical strength and had to learn how to fortify her emotional strength through her grieving process. She has only learn on how to love and be loved by Eren, which has major missing components left to be desired. Mikasa deserves to be loved, to receive that affection openly in return from someone who would be ideal, respectful, trustworthy, expressive, equally devoted, the raindrop to her seed, the sun to her cold days and loving towards her and maybe one day, eventually would be able to grow a real family from that genuine love.

The last two bottom panel above we can actually observe the innocent kid!Mikasa just like Isayama promised. She is ready and curious to once again, learn more about the beautiful but cruel world. She is ready to leave the forest upon realizing that no matter where she goes, Eren will always be inside her heart.

She is at peace. Even if she looks way thinner, fragile that she should be and could be seen collapsing as she was hit by another wave of strong grief. But since the members of the alliance are coming to Paradis for a potential negotiation, it is been stated by Mikasa that they are also coming to see Eren's final resting place to pay their respects. She will be meeting her friends after 3 years for the first time and I could really hope that they can be the support that each other needed for true healing. I am holding on to the possibility of her being ready to move on and start living again after putting the course of her life on hold by mourning for Eren the moment she is reunited again with Armin, Annie, Reiner, Jean and Connie.

The bird flew over the ship carrying the alliance as it is heading towards Paradis before heading towards Mikasa's location, giving his answer to her "You're happy right?" question by wrapping that scarf around her neck for one last time. He wanted her to be free after 3 years of grief. He wanted her to move on when she meets their friends again because she does not deserve to be consumed in her grief not even another day. Not even for another 7 years. Not even for the rest of her life.

Anything that we envision happening after 139 is valid in this universe. I believe Mikasa will begin living her life to the fullest as the end of the series is also the beginning of her next journey. But this time, she will be doing it in the company of her loved ones. Together.

[ziracona]

The second of my ready updates:

The Kid (pt: 1, … 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16 ?) [Fate Grand Order AU]

We don’t find Ritsuka where we left her. It’s easy to follow the trail of carnage back, but there’s nothing there when we arrive, and Robin curses and hits one of the walls, muttering something I can’t make out. I want to say something to help him, but I’m feeling too much the same way myself. At least she’s alive, but if they’ve caught her…

“I told her to call us! And if she used that much mana, she knew she was in trouble, and she tried to fight instead!” snaps Robin.

“It’s possible something else happened,” interjects King David, “Couldn’t she have found someone else?”

That’s true. That’s true, and that would explain a lot! God, I hope so. I really, really hope so. I try to sense for another connection to a new spirit, but again, I find nothing, just like I can’t find my master.

“Come on,” says Emiya, “We need her back either way, and there’s nothing to do but search. If she left, she’d have started from here and had to head r—”

He stops.

I turn and follow his gaze. A little ways down the hall in that direction, there’s a door whose entire lock panel is melted. Bingo.

“Come on!” I call, rushing towards it.

As soon as I get there, I start to push open the door, but Robin catches me by my shoulder, and when I look, he’s pointing down the hall. “That way.”

“You can sense her?” I ask, amazed.

“No, but there’s faint mana traces in the air, and I’m extremely attuned to my own signature,” he replies, “She was wearing my cloak when we left her, and I can sense it picking up here—the trail goes that way. This way!” he calls to the others, “I’ll trace it!”

We tear off after Robin, turning down halls and up an elevator shaft. Alarms are blaring, and I still hear shouts in the distance. We only hit one patch of guards though, on the floor we get off on. They’re kneeling beside the downed bodies of other guards, whose blood has begun to dry already on the floor, and we catch them by surprise, knocking them out easily. She wasn’t alone, then, I think as I hesitate once the guards are down before moving on, And whoever she was with, they’re violent. And she wasn’t in control of them.

Not Ur-shanabi is good. Violent and not in control is really, really bad.

We go faster. A blur of tense, desperate movement down halls and past empty rooms and faint traces.

“I sense her!” shouts Robin, skidding to a stop halfway down a hall and changing course, “This way!”

He’s right! I check and I can sense her again too—one floor above us now, and a few halls over. King David breaks a hole through the ceiling with his sling and we move up as fast as we can, following her signature. We’re getting close, and overcome with a surge of intent, I pull ahead as we’re right on top of her and round the last corner first, and she’s there! She's there! She’s alive! She’s alive, and then the relief is immediately replaced with fear, because there’s a tall man I’ve never seen before, a heroic spirit like us, with some very intimidating energy coming off him, and two unmoving bodies slung over his shoulder, one a second heroic spirit, and the other Ritsuka, both unconscious and limp.

I draw and let a flurry of bullets slam into the wall all around his head. “Drop her!” I shout, “Or I won’t miss the next one!”

The man spins on his heel to face me and takes a step back, and I see on his face he’s thinking fast as the rest of the group slides into the hall behind me.

Seeing so many of us, the man grits his teeth and summons a long, thin sword made out of something I’m having a hard time looking directly at for some reason, simultaneously tightening his grip on Ritsuka and the other body and turning to angle himself between us and them. “What do you want!” he shouts desperately, “Aren’t all of you spirits too? Why are you attacking! What, are you dogs for this place?”

“We’re attacking because that’s our master’s unconscious body you’ve got highly god damn suspiciously slung over your shoulder!” snaps back Robin, bow aimed and leveled.

Eerily calm, beside me, King David readies his slingshot with a kind of poise and concentration that is genuinely unnerving. I do not think he will miss.

“Your master?” says the man in disbelief, “Do you think I’m an idiot? Outside of a ritual, a human being can barely sustain one spirit alone, let alone a human child—and this girl is my master. –‘Our master’? You expect me to believe this young girl is sustaining not just two, but six heroic spirits at the same time, alone?”

Wait.

Ahhhhh shit. Shit! That makes so much sense. Whooo second time today I’m real glad my instinct is to threaten and not to shoot strangers that only might be a huge threat!

“I don’t know what you want her for, but you’re not getting her!” continues the man with a ferocious intensity that makes him feel daunting, even heavily burdened and so clearly outnumbered. There’s a surge of mana around him, and in one burst of energy the grey suit is gone, replaced by a black and red uniform with a cloak and a full face mask, and the pressure in the room itself has changed and I’m suddenly hearing unsettling whispers in the air, and ah shit shit he’s flinging both bodies he was carrying out behind him and going to move which can only mean heee—crap crap crap; he’s about to use a bigass area of effect noble phantasm, and everyone knows it, and it hits me I’ve got about a third of a second before somebody shoots somebody in here’n—

“Wait, wait, wait!” I call, spinning my gun into my holster and stepping into the line of fire for the first few people beside me, hands up and out, because I like to think we’ve all hit the conclusion I just did, but everyone in the group is exhausted and tense and I’m not takin’ chances, “This was a mistake! Nobody shoot!”

To my surprise, no one does—not even the new guy. He stands, so tense he’s almost shaking, sword still leveled, but whatever he was about to do, he doesn’t—the mana level in the hall holds, and he listens.

Behind him in the sudden silence, I hear Ritsuka and the other guy hit the floor and roll with little thuds, and wince internally. I keep my focus on the guy in front of me and my hands up. “Sorry—We jumped the gun on you there-outah concern for our master,” I say apologetically, “I know this is gonna be real hard for you to believe, but she really is our master too. –If you find that hard to believe, you can check for yourself!—'parrently if you’re co-contracted, you can sense the connection to each other a little—you should be able to sense it from every one of us. Sorry I didn’t notice yours sooner; with our Master right on top of you, I wasn’t picking up the weaker signal under such a strong one. I can find it now, though.”

Taken aback and mistrustful, the man hesitates, then very slowly lowers his sword just a few inches, and beside me I sense the others do the same with their weapons in response. Taking that as a good enough show of faith, the man turns his head towards each of us in turn to sense for connections, then cranes his masked head to look at Ritsuka’s limp form where she landed, and says, “But. That’s impossible.” The earlier viciousness is gone now, and the air pressure in the room returns to normal. Wheeew, thank God! I let myself relax.

“She’s an unusual person,” replies Emiya, “Usually, you’d be right.”

“No wonder she passed out after forming a contract with me, the poor girl,” says the man softly like he means it. I decide I really like this guy. Got less than no idea who he is, but he was gonna get himself killed just now trying to keep Ritsuka and whoever else he’s got there from gettin’ hurt, instead of droppin’ ‘em and savin’ himself, and he clearly already likes her, so what else do I gotta know?

Shit—speakin’ of—

“I’m uh—just gonna go pick her up off the floor then? If we’re all cool?” I declare just in case the guy hasn’t decided he’s on board completely yet.

“… Oh. Yes,” he says with a note of chagrin, turning himself to look at where they’ve landed.

I go to her as fast as I can, unsurprised to hear everyone else coming too. The new guy comes as well, but he goes to the other body.

When I reach Ritsuka, I’m relieved to see she doesn’t look injured anywhere, just a little bit pale. I take a knee and scoop her up gently, trying to make sure there’s no damage I don’t see.

“Well, you look like you’re in one piece at least.” Robin, speaking softly. I glance up and watch as he takes a knee too and looks her over too. She’s still wearing his cloak, and he touches the hood, which is hanging loose, then sighs and pats her on the head. “And you took it off, I see. But I guess your judgement was okay, since things turned out like this. I won’t give you the worst time when you wake up again. You damn fool.”

The others are above us too now, and I glance up at King David and Emiya. I stand up so they can see too without trouble. “She’s fine, right?” I ask, since they both do healing to some extent. She seems like it, but bein’ unconscious always means somethin’ ain’t quite right.

King David reaches over and places a hand on her face for a second, then smiles. “She’s alright—just exhausted. –Good throw!” he adds cheerily to the other heroic spirit, who glances over in surprise from where he’s just stood up again himself with the other body he threw in his arms, “I don’t think that even really bruised her!”

The man seems to consider responding, but have no idea what to say, and shuts his mouth and just kind of gives an awkward nod. He hesitates, then moves closer to get a look at how she’s doing himself.

I haven’t had a chance to get a good look at the second heroic spirit—the one he’s holding—before this, but I do now. And…it is grim.

Shit. Whatever they did to him, it was bad. Weird that after what most have been two months of absolute hell I ain’t comfortable enough with to look at, I still feel like I got comparatively lucky. Least I knew what was going on…

“If you don’t mind my asking, what exactly is a teenager like her doing here, and with six heroic spirits contracted to her?” asks the new man, glancing over at us.

“Uh, rescue mission,” says Robin, gesturing vaguely, “Happened to see that one in trouble,” he indicates me, “broke him out, summoned him for backup,” he indicates Emiya, “and they came back here to clean house. The rest of us were all in about the same position I expect you two were.”

“Ah, then is that why he’s…?” says the man, gesturing to our unconscious lancer.

Emiya gives a nod.

“What about yours?” I ask.

The unconscious spirit in his arms is in way worse condition than our lancer is—at least, he looks a lot worse. The guy’s body is covered in deep purple runes and markings I don’t recognize that glow and pulse faintly, carved into his skin, and his body is swollen horribly all over and covered in tiny red bumps. The bags under his eyes are deep and his face gaunt and hollow looking, even swollen, which is somehow worse than either would be on its own. His long blonde hair is lifeless, damp with sweat and caked to his body, and he’s breathing raggedly and weak. I have seen spirits in conditions as bad as this from wounds, in the heat of battle, but never…sick? I can’t think of any other way to describe this, but he looks sick, which we don’t get any more—and he looks terminal, at that.

“Yes. This is what they did to him. …I…haven’t been able to fix it all. I thought my master might be able to help me when she woke,” answers the man. He’s stayed in his armor and mask, so I can’t see expressions at all, but he’s got a trustworthy voice—real sad, though.

“Can I take a look?” asks King David, “I may be able to help.”

The man hesitates, then says, “Yes. Uhm. —alright. –Might I ask who the rest of you are?” like he knows it was stupid to still be untrusting at this point, but he can’t help it. I think he and the other spirit must be friends, because I can’t imagine him being this level of protective over a complete stranger, and it’s about how I expect I’d be with Robin or Geronimo.

“You first,” says Robin at the same time Emiya says, “After you,” and they both look incredibly pissed that the other had the exact same impulse.

“Right. My apologies,” says the man formally, and I buy that—he seems frazzled and stressed. “My true name is Antonio Salieri.”

God damn it. I try to smile and not let my absolute lack of knowledge show on my face. Now there’s two spirits in the party whose names I have never even heard—this sucks. It always feels low-key rude not to know. It looks like King David’s in the same boat as me, so I feel a little bit better, but Robin and Emiya I think recognize it.

“And him?” asks Robin. Emiya was definitely about to say almost the same thing, but he stops himself from overlapping this time and gets some kind of an expression on his face.

“—I’m Billy the Kid,” I interject as friendly as I can, because I feel like we’re pilin’ it on a little harsh here.

“Thank you,” he tells me, then turning to the others, “This is Mozart—Wolfgang Amadeus.”

Oooooh, the composer! That’s pretty cool. Robin and Emiya both get incredibly strange looks on their faces, though, and I know Robin well enough to tell he’s suddenly trying really hard not to laugh nervously. The heck’s that about?

“King David,” chimes in King David, oblivious to this and holding up a finger in greeting. Salieri turns to stare at him. Then he begins softly to laugh hysterically, and everyone gets real quiet.

He doesn’t seem to realize how weird that is, and just looks down at the body in his arms and says, “It appears once again God looks out for you only, and particularly.”

“Guys?” I prompt in the hopes of turning this conversation back to semi-normal, and because it’s kinda bad form not to exchange names once an ally tells you theirs.

“Robin Hood,” says Robin, punching his timecard back into the present.

“…Emiya,” says Emiya like he doesn’t want to answer.

Salieri glances back up, serious and normal again, and nods slowly.

“May I?” says King David again, and Salieri obliges. King David starts looking over Mozart thoughtfully, muttering to himself in what I’m pretty sure has gotta be Hebrew, and he flicks his wrist without looking and his kinnor appears by him. As I watch, he shuts his eyes and begins to play. It’s the longest and most intricate melody I’ve heard from him, and it’s fascinating to listen to. Beautiful. Nothing I’ve ever heard before either, and he sings softly with it in his own tongue. It’s…really incredible. I’ve heard some pretty good piano players and guitarists in my own day, but seeing somebody like this, you understand for the first time the concept of a genius on an instrument—it’s so unlike anything I’ve heard before, it’s like it’s a totally different thing than what I thought of as music. While he plays, the glowing purple markings start to twist and dissolve on Mozart’s skin, a piece and a few at a time from foot-to-head, and as they go, his body begins to repair itself. It’s a strange thing to watch, curses leaving a body, but it's pretty amazing too.

“Damn,” I whisper under my breath.

“You said it,” agrees Robin softly with a smile.

“So, uh?” I ask, focusing my attention back on Ritsuka and glancing over at Emiya, “Any way to wake her up?”

“You could smack her,” says Emiya offhand, and then there’s a half-second delay and he gets a look on his face that says very clearly he did not think before speaking and wishes greatly he had. He grimaces, and gives Ritsuka a glance, then reaches out with his free hand.

“—You ain’t gonna smack her, right?” I make sure—to bother him, not because I’m really worried he would.

Emiya sighs at me and I grin. He places a hand on her chest and I watch geometric patterns runs along her skin for a moment.

“She used too many circuits she wasn’t used to using,” he tells me, eyes still on Ritsuka, “Flooded them and burned herself out a little. –She’ll be fine, though—I’ve seen a lot worse of the same. I think it just tired her out, the same way an intense amount of physical exertion someone isn’t used to might after an adrenaline rush would. This should help her wake up.”

He removes his hand, and the patterns vanish. Ritsuka stays still for a few seconds, then groans and turns a little in my arms to snuggle against my shoulder, muttering incoherently, and I smile.

“Thanks,” I say to Emiya. He gives a nod. “How’s the lancer doing?” I add with a little concern. I really expected him to wake up again already. Emiya’s expression darkens and closes off.

“It’s complicated,” he answers after a moment, “But not well. …I can’t really fix what’s wrong with him; neither can David, and the problem’s not his mana supply from the kid. It’s what they did before, and don’t think any of us can fix it.”

“Not even with a command spell?” I ask, taken aback and feeling a chill settle on me. Thinking about him vanishing and getting dragged back here to…that shit again. We got to raze this place to a pile of ash. A part of me wonders if that’ll really be enough, though. We’re lucky in that mages tend to guard any breakthrough like hoard of gold, but at the same time, these mages are selling, and if they’re selling, god knows how much they were willing to part with for money.

Emiya shrugs. “A spell could forestall death a little, but they’re not really meant for repairing a spirit origin with a gaping hole in it. This is something that’d take time and experience to figure out, if it can be fixed. The good news is that he’s not going to die in the next few hours or anything, unless he takes a lot more damage—if there’s one thing he excels at, it’s being damn near impossible to put in the dirt quickly—so, we don’t have to rush for a solution while we’re here. If we stay focused and on task, we should have a chance after we deal with this place. And if not, so long as we bring this place down, he should at least be able to avoid being brought back here.”

He's really thought this through. I know he’s a tactical fighter anyway, even not having known him long, but something about the amount of detail makes me think despite the weird interaction they must be some kind of friends. I’m distracted from considering that any further though, because Ritsuka shifts a little again and opens her eyes about halfway. “Mnnn…” She blinks unevenly at my vest, then turns her head up and squints at me. “…Billy?”

“Heya,” I say with a smile, feeling immense relief seein’ her up, “Feelin’ better?”

“Oh?” says Emiya, moving in too, “You’re up faster than I expected.” I feel pretty sure that’s his version of saying he’s relieved to see her okay.

“I am?” asks Ritsuka, still a little foggy.

“Hey kid,” says Robin, leaning over from the other side, “I see you did the exact opposite of what I asked you to.”

“No I didn’t,” she mumbles, blinking and trying to focus, “I was gonna call. I almost did—when I thought I was in trouble. But it was okay. I met a new…Oh!” Her eyes get clearer, and she tries to sit up before realizing she is being held and can’t very much like this. “Antonio! I met this other spirit—did you find—“

“—Don’t worry,” says Emiya, “He’s safe and sound; we already met.” I move to accommodate her view. “He’s right over there with David and Mozart.”

Salieri and King David are both looking over already, and King David gives a grin in greeting but keeps playing. Salieri starts to say something, but Ritsuka does before he gets a chance.

“With—‘Mozart’?” she asks, face scrunched up, looking from him to the other three and staring with absolute blankness at them “—The…composer?? Where did he come from?”

Wait.

“Wait, you weren’t—you didn’t contract with that one?” asks Robin before I can.

“No—I never saw him before,” says Ritsuka, just as confused, “Do I need to?”

Ohhhhh—of course. Salieri didn’t think she could contract with more than one person, and he said she passed out soon as the two of them made a pact—we’re all idiots. I can’t believe I didn’t even think to check.

“Hey,” says Robin to Salieri, almost accusingly, “How’s your friend still solid?”

“I’m maintaining him,” answers Salieri, almost taken aback, “I can’t for long, but I can slow down his consumption. It’s a…” He glances back at Ritsuka and sees the same confused look on her face and his tone changes immediately, warmer. “class ability. Mana replenishment.”

“What class?” says Robin, in a tone that tracks, because I have never heard that one before either.

“…Avenger,” answers Salieri after a moment. ‘Avenger’? “You’re awake again,” he adds to Ritsuka in the most friendly tone I’ve heard from him, “Are you alright?”

“…Antonio?” asks Ritsuka, staring at him.

It takes him a second to realize why she looks that way, then he gives an, “Oh,” and flicks his wrist, and the helmet vanishes to reveal his face again.

“Oh—hi,” says Ritsuka, a little stunned still, “I’m sorry—I didn’t recognize you for a second—that’s really cool armor you have.”

He doesn’t look like he knows how to process or respond to that.

“I think I’m okay now. A little tired and sore, but pretty good actually—How about you? How are you feeling?” she adds. “Better? -I hope?”

Again, he seems taken off guard by the question, but he glances down at himself, then up at her. “I’m…alright. Certainly better than I was, at the least. Thank you.”

She smiles. “Good. Sorry I passed out before explaining anything.”

“Well, it’s no wonder,” he says, looking at the assembled people she’s keeping up, “And I think I’m fairly up to speed now.”

“Did you rescue him on your own?” asks Ritsuka, indicating Mozart. He nods. “And that’s Mozart? The composer?”

“Yes,” says Salieri with a very specific tone that I weirdly can’t place.

“Wow,” says Ritsuka. She hesitates and looks over the whole group before looking up and settling on me, “How long was I out?”

“I don’t think too long—maybe ten, fifteen minutes?” I suggest.

“You work fast,” she says to Salieri with a grin, “Thanks for saving him!”

Salieri, king of not knowing how to respond, looks back blankly for a moment then gives a hesitant nod.

“Uhm,” she continues, glancing up at me, “I think I can stand up now, if you put me down.”

“Oh! Sure thing,” I say, setting her down but keeping my hands up in case she isn’t as steady as she thinks. She’s not, but she catches herself just fine, then gives herself a second to get her sea legs back before trying to walk again.

“Sure you’re okay?” asks Robin.

She nods. “I’m just a little dizzy. I really do feel a lot better—I think I should be able to anchor another one of you just fine once he wakes up.”

“Are you sure though?” I ask, “You got six contracts runnin’ now, and the last one took you out for a little bit. –Don’t you think another one might knock you out even longer?”

“I don’t think so,” says Ritsuka, who in fairness is bouncing back wildly fast, “I know I passed out after making a contract, but I don’t really think that was why; I was already really faint before that—it happened during the fight with the gashadokuros—when that one popped out of the floor, and grabbed us? I think maybe it just hurt me a little or something, and I hadn’t recovered yet.”

“Oh,” I say, heart sinking a little.

“My ribs feel fine now though!” she assures me.

Yeah, I don’t really think it was the gashadokuro that did it. I feel kinda guilty, too, because I knew when I did it I was putting all of us at risk of vanishin’, but what else could I have done? …I mean, we were about to get smashed, and she’s supposed to be my top priority as a servant. Even though she said that ain’t what she wants, if I’m just pickin’ my own priorities for me, that’s still up top. Plus, we all made it, so it turned out okay.

“That was me, I think,” I admit.

She blinks at me and tilts her head.

“I used a noble phantasm,” I explain, “I’m sorry—I knew you were tapped out already, and we’d agreed we’d all have to not, because of about what happened when I did, but I didn’t see another sure way out of you and me gettin’ smashed—and it did work! And turned out fine—so.”

“But. I thought yours doesn’t take much mana?” she asks, confused.

“Well, Thunderer don’t,” I explain, “But I got more than one. Whole lot of us do. And they ain’t the same.”

Beside me, Robin gives a nod.

“Oh.” She thinks about that, then beams at me. “Well wait, that’s great then! If that’s all it was, I don’t have to worry about making contracts!”

I smile back.

“Oh—how’s the lancer doing?” asks Ritsuka, turning to Emiya, seeing for herself how he’s doing, and face falling a little, “He’s still not awake?”

“He was for a little, but he passed out again—probably when you did,” answers Emiya, “He’s weak, but he’s holding on. In his condition, it’s just going to take more of a mana flow to keep him awake than the rest of us.”

“Okay,” says Ritsuka thoughtfully, “Well. Since I’m awake, that means he’ll probably be feeling better again pretty soon too, right?”

Emiya gives a nod.

I wonder why he doesn’t tell her. I guess he doesn’t want her to worry about something she can’t fix, but I think she should know. I would tell her now, if Emiya and the lancer didn’t seem to be some kind of weird friends, because that means he might know and be doing what the lancer would want if he was up to pick for himself.

“Okay—can you let me know as soon as he wakes up?” she ask. He nods. “Did the plan go okay?”

I give a nod, and Robin says, “Sure thing—we left them on an upper level, made sure to give personnel a chance to flee, but scare them enough to motivate them. It’s gotten quiet too, so I expect they’ve un-summoned the things.”

“That’s amazing!,” she says, “Wow, everybody did a really good job on their own. Thank you—OH! Wait—Mozart—this means we’ve got all seven—six, I mean, right? –One for each catalyst?”

“Think so,” I agree.

“I haven’t sensed any more of us,” adds Emiya slowly, “Which should mean all that’s left is bringing the building down, and destroying research. Taking care of staff.”

Ritsuka looks worried by the last note there, but she nods seriously.

“So we go looking for heads of staff next?” I ask.

Emiya gives a nod.

“We should find the security office then—checking the tech will probably be the quickest way to find them,” says Robin, then with a sigh, “Damn shame we didn’t pick up an assassin. They’d have come in real handy right about now.”

Ritsuka turns to Salieri and David, I think because I’m gettin’ more used to her problem-solving style, to ask about Mozart’s class in case it’s Assassin, but when she gets a real look at Mozart with her full sense intact, what she was gonna say goes right out of her head and she freezes and just looks horrified instead. Then takes a little step closer and asks, “…What happened to him?”

“Some intricate curses,” answers King David, still playing his kinnor, “It’s a nasty bit of spell work, but I can undo it—I’m almost done. It’ll take a little for his vessel to repair itself after the curses are gone, especially with such a weak supply of magic, but it should work just fine.”

“We should get moving,” circles back Robin quietly to just Emiya and me, watching them, “The yokai scattered them pretty well for us, but that won’t last us forever. Don’t want to tempt fate here.”

“Which one was the kunai?” asks Emiya in the same tone.

“Huh?” I say, taking about five seconds to mentally shift subjects back to catalysts, “Oh. Uh.”

…Who was the kunai? I try to mentally figure this through. “Picture,” I say pointing to myself, then gesturing to Robin, “Coin.”

“Earring,” says Emiya, indicating the ones the lancer is wearing.

“Earring,” I echo in confirmation, then glance at King David and the other two. “…I…King David’s gotta be the pitcher, right? And one of them must be the letter, the other the knife—could Salieri be the kunai?”

“If it was a common dagger, maybe,” says Emiya, “But a kunai? For a classical Italian composer?”

He’s got a point.

“Let’s find out,” says Robin, then louder, to Salieri, King David, and Ritsuka, “—Hey—sorry, quick question. These people had six catalysts for sure, and we have found six of us now. But we’re not sure they match up. –Don’t want to leave someone behind, you know. So, aside from us, there was a pitcher, a kunai knife, and a letter. We’re assuming you weren’t the letter or the knife,” he adds to King David, who gives a nod.

“From that list, I would have to be the pitcher—it was probably an oil pitcher,” confirms King David.

“That leaves two, and two of you, but neither of you make sense for the kunai,” says Robin.

“No, we don’t,” agrees Salieri, glancing up from the body in his arms, “We were both the letter.”

“You were both the letter?” I ask.

“Yes. It was from him, about me,” says Salieri tiredly, “And it called us both.”

That’s the worst possible timing to get dual-summoned anywhere. Almost any other situation it would at least be nice to be in a foxhole with an old friend. Talk about grim luck, I think. “So we’re still one short?”

“…I guess,” says Emiya slowly, “Or they simply haven’t used it yet. It seems like most of you haven’t been here long yet, Lancer only a few days; we don’t really know what schedule they’re on. The research stations aren’t far from us or the security huh, though—If we go  there first, we can probably find the answer.”

“That sounds smart,” says Ritsuka hopefully, “Let’s do that—we can’t leave somebody.”

“So was that a success?” Robin asks King David, glancing over at Mozart. The composer looks a lot better now. The glowing curses are gone, and while his body still looks kind of messed up, it looks a lot less on the verge of death. I guess that’s in line with what King David said. Still, poor guy is still pale and breathing shallow and weak. Whatever the spells were, they must have been hell on him.

“Yes, his vessel is resetting itself,” says King David proudly. He lets go of his kinnor and it vanishes. “It was some intensely specific spell work, they have a gifted and dangerous mage on staff. The mental effects should be already gone as they were more curse alone than inflicted physical damage, but it’ll just take however long it takes for his mana supply to replenish him enough to heal the rest.” He absently pats Mozart’s head once which almost startles Salieri. “Poor man. They really did a number.”

“Will it be enough?” Ritsuka asks, glancing up at Salieri, “To heal him okay, if it’s just from you? –I’d form a contract with him if he was awake, but, I can’t—I could give you a command spell though, for the energy, if you need it!”

“That’s kind,” says Salieri, “but you should keep them for true emergencies.” He looks at the man in his arms fondly and a little sadly. “I can tell he’s bouncing back remarkably fast as well, for all the damage done, so I expect he’ll be alright in a short time if things continue the way they are. He won’t be in danger of vanishing before that happens.”

“That’s good,” says Ritsuka, clearly relieved.

“We should get moving, then,” Robin almost interrupts, “We’ve already been in one place too long, and we can’t afford to lose momentum—especially if they’ve got tricks like earlier at their disposal. They seem to have temporarily lost us, and I’d love to keep it that way.”

“Right,” says Ritsuka, straightening up, “Okay—if David’s done, then let’s go.”

David gives a nod.

“Could one of you carry him?” asks Salieri hurriedly, like he’s afraid we’ll take off first.

It takes me a second to get that he means Mozart despite how obvious that should be, just because it’s so totally out of left field as a thing I’d expect him to say.

“I can continue to sustain his mana if I’m fairly close, and I can trade—I’ll take that one,” he adds quickly, indicating the lancer Emiya has, which visibly throws Emiya more than anything I’ve seen since Ritsuka calling him ‘Dad’, “—I have no trouble fighting while holding someone, but if I keep Mozart with me much longer, I may kill him.”

…

“You’ll what?” says Ritsuka.

“I. May kill him,” Salieri echoes himself quietly, glancing down at the unconscious body in his arms.

“…But.” says Ritsuka helplessly. Yeah.

“I thought you were friends?” I ask, lost myself.

“We are,” agrees Salieri, “Or—I am. I. Was—it’s complicated. I, Salieri, was his friend—am, his friend, but, I, as I am now—as the thing that has been carved onto the throne, am also his sworn enemy.” He’s struggling a little. It’s strange. Aside from the one time he went into hysterics he’s seemed as normal as the rest of us, but it’s suddenly like he’s trying really hard not to completely fall apart—not in a crying way—like he’s frazzled and shaky mentally all of a sudden, and struggling to ground himself. It…makes me sad. Almost agonized, he turns to Emiya and Robin like some last-ditch hope. “Tell me—you recognized my name. What do you know it from?”

Robin doesn’t answer, but Emiya says, “Stories. About you killing Mozart.” There’s something about his tone. Low, and something else too. Between pity and understanding. I think he gets what’s going on, even though I don’t yet. Though. …I think I might be afraid I’m starting to…

“Yes,” says Salieri bitterly, “That’s what everyone remembers, true or not, and so it is what the Throne wanted, and what the throne got.”

Oh.

Oh God. … I—s-shit. That’s…I’ve heard of that happening before, sort of. I’ve met people, just a few, that were a little like this—people from stories so many folks believed were true, the throne grabbed someone as like them as possible, and twisted them—fucked with their personalities and memory and abilities, and threw them on the throne as only a little who they were before, and a lot who it wanted to force them to be, to try and make someone who never was. I hadn’t thought about that happening with personal rumor—public opinion versus the truth, but of course it must. Which is…awful. …

“But you didn’t,” says Ritsuka, a question, but not at all a ‘did you?’—it’s very much a ‘so it doesn’t make sense?’.

Salieri glances at her and smiles a little sadly, exhales slow. “No. I didn’t. But that doesn’t get to matter for me now. I’m an Avenger.”

“I.” Ritsuka looks at him, then us, settles on Emiya, “I don’t know what that means.”

“They’re…embodiments of resentment,” says Emiya in a level tone, “Unlike us, associated with a legacy of skills or feats, they’re tied to an injury or hatred from their life, and manifested as an embodiment of that rage and the desire to chase it—to avenge.”

“So…You’re. …trapped?” she asks slowly, eyes big with worry as she turns back to face Salieri. He watches her solemnly with a kind of resigned, quiet sadness I recognize very well. “As…the desire to. ...”

“Kill him,” finishes Salieri for her simply, “And a personification of hatred of him as well. Always.”

“That’s awful,” says Ritsuka.

He tries to smile at her. “Yes. But there’s no escaping it. I ask only that you take precautions, with both of us here. It will be difficult, perhaps impossible, for me to do so on my own.”

She looks at him, then down at the floor, fist clenched, thinking hard. “But,” she says desperately as she looks up at him again, “But you didn’t do it—you’re still you. From before. You remember everything, right? You said—And you think like you, and—and when I was unconscious, you went and rescued him all on your own; you didn’t kill him!”

“Yes, you could say that,” says Salieri quietly, looking at something far past all of us, and I think maybe long ago, before returning to the present, “But it would be as fair to say that I am only a small part of him—of who I was. And that I am also very much the fabricated Man in Grey whose purpose and desire is to kill him. As well as a manifestation of people’s lies, and their hatred, and my hatred of them for it. I am more than one thing; I am enough things now that I could not say with certainty which one I am even the most, or if I am one the most at all, or if I am truly any of them, but I can say with absolute certainty that I cannot be trusted to stay the one I or you would wish for an entire summons.” He looks at her sadly. “I told you when you offered me a contract that I am dangerous. Not to you, not if you’re careful. But I am afraid I will not be as useful as you would wish. Despite my best efforts…”

“But,” says Ritsuka again, “No—it’s not about that. It’s—"

“—Think of it as like a command spell,” offers Emiya gently, taking a step up to be beside her, “But woven into him on summon, instead of lasting a short time. Even if he’s still who he was, none of us can resist compulsion forever. That’s not his fault or something you can fix for him. It wasn’t added to his manifestation here—it’s an integral part of it. Let him be careful.”

There’s something he doesn’t say, but I hear it just the same, from his tone and his expression, and the one on Salieri’s face. That this is Salieri’s way of trying to be himself, by achieving the goal he’d have wanted, even if it can only be attained by keeping himself at arm’s length and gunpoint.

And I think he’s right.

Ritsuka I think gets it too, at least mostly. She looks from him to Salieri in distress, then lets out a breath and nods. “Okay. …I’m sorry,” she adds, looking up at Salieri with so much sorrow on her face.

He smiles weakly. “Thank you, Master.”

“Oh,” she says worriedly, “please don’t call me that—you can just call me Ritsuka.”

He cocks his head at her.

“Like I said before,” she continues hopefully, “I don’t want a servant—I just want to help.”

“Oh?” says King David, who I’m realizing didn’t get the pitch when we snagged him. He seems both amused and happy about this development.

“Very well, then,” says Salieri, with a little half-bow.

“Oh—and you—” she adds, “Do you prefer Antonio? Or Salieri? Or Mr. Salieri?-“

“Salieri is fine,” he responds.

“Salieri,” she echoes in confirmation.

“Alright then, let’s get moving—Like Robin said, we’ve already lingered here too long,” says Emiya, moving forward and offering an arm, “I can carry him.”

“Alright, I’ll take yours then,” says Salieri.

“I can take both,” replies Emiya.

“But then how will you fight?” asks Ritsuka.

“Oh for crying out loud,” exclaims Robin, cutting off whatever reply Emiya was about to give and shooting him a look, then turning to Salieri and holding out his own arms, “Here—I’ll take him.”

Salieri passes the body carefully to Robin, though he looks unhappy about doing it.

“Oh—your cloak,” says Ritsuka, taking it off and handing it to Robin.

He glances back and takes it with a wink, casually slinging it over his shoulder, “Next time I lend this, you might want to actually use the invisibility.”

“Well, I did as long as I could,” she tries, but he’s already grinning at her, and she gets she’s being teased and smiles back.

“Let’s move,” calls out Emiya, a little annoyed now, and he takes off. Robin follows, but Salieri and King David both hesitate and glance at Ritsuka.

“I got ‘er!” I call, snagging her with an arm and bolting off after the others. She makes a surprised sound between a laugh and a yelp and then grins at me. I think it must be fun, going this fast when you’re still a human. I woulda enjoyed it for sure. Really should bring her goggles though—what if we have to go really fast at some point? I file that away.

Behind me, Salieri follows close, King David taking up the rear. I’m very glad we got Emiya on the team, because he’s got a good sense of direction and an ability to channel his mana into physical objects to read layouts and mechanical workings. I mean, we’re all not bad at figuring the layout of anywhere as heroic spirits, but the level he’s on is truly impressive. Guess Ritsuka got the summon answer she really needed after all.

As one, we dart down halls and through an empty gallery. Instead of hitting the elevator shaft again, now that they know we’re here, Emiya snaps a hole through the floor above with his bow and just takes the fast route from point A to point B. I can sense people nearby and a lot of mana not far above us myself now. I take a corner right after Robin and by the time I’m in the next hall Emiya has already downed six of eight guards, and Robin is taking shots at the next two. They are quite a tag-team, but I have a strong feeling they would both hate being told that.

“They were surprised,” Emiya informs us mentally, “It appears the distraction with the gashadokuro worked better than expected—they seem scattered.”

We race through this floor, passing offices and closed doors. I sense a large amount of mana behind one, and Emiya must too because he stops to kick it down. There’s no one inside, but there’s an automated familiar defense system, and a bunch of little magecraft wasps fill the air in a swarm. My gut tells me they got some kind of poison, and I slide to the side to take Ritsuka out of the line of fire before taking some shots at the swarm from the cover of the doorway. I’m thinkin’ Emiya, Robin, and I can all easily deal with this, but it’s gonna be hard not to damage everything in the room doing so, when I suddenly hear the sound of a grand piano behind me and turn in I think the only emotion one can have hearing a grand piano where it shouldn’t be, to see Salieri with the faint glowing outline of a phantasmal instrument at his fingertips. His fingers flash across the keys with precision and incredible force, and myriad of little grey figures appear between us and the swarm and destroy them in a flash of light.

“Thanks,” I say, kinda stunned. He gives a nod.

Emiya has wasted no time and is already inside, searching.

“What? Why did we stop here?” Ritsuka asks me.

“Something with a lot of mana was inside—we couldn’t tell what,” I reply, then to Emiya, “What was it?”

“Yours,” says Emiya by way of answer, stepping back out and chucking Robin his coin, which he catches in surprise and then turns over in his fingers with a very hard to read expression on his face. “Yours,” he adds to King David, tossing a clay pitcher, “And yours,” he adds, handing Salieri a very old letter in a sealed package.

“Where’s mine?” I ask at the same time King David says, “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“I can carry it!” volunteers Ritsuka, “I brought a backpack!”

He can’t seem to think of a reason not to, and gives it to her.

“Yours wasn’t in there,” says Emiya, “Neither was the kunai, or the earring.”

Huh. I…guess maybe it means they were already setting up a circle somewhere, to try and drag me back. That’s a great feeling…

Nothing to do about it though, so I give a nod and let myself puzzle through that while we move towards our target. There are a lot of alarms going off throughout the building now, which isn’t good, but I am starting to notice as we go that the security cameras aren’t tracking our movement. Emiya was taking care of them earlier, but I haven’t seen him do that in a bit—I think we’re past caring. But…

We hit the end of this floor and move up again, right through the floor like before. I hear Emiya’s voice in my head say, “Focus up. We’re nearing the research stations.”

He’s right. The layout of this building has been fairly similar before now, long halls, large rooms, similar numbers of rooms per floor. Interspersed with open areas like walking intersections. This floor is different. We come up in an abandoned office room, but the second we exit it, I see a huge metal door blocking us. I can feel the enchantments on it too—and it’s not just blocking a room, it’s making the entire rest of this floor inaccessible. On top of that, the thing fuckin’ looks like the entrance to a bank vault.

“Talk about extra,” Robin says, thinkin’ the same thing I’m feelin’. He glances at Emiya. “Can you tell if there’s any weakest point to the bounded field?”

Emiya touches the field, and it seems to shock him. He snaps back his hand and shakes it, then reaches his hand up like he’s going to call one of his swords, stops, and grimaces. “…It’s strong, but it’s far from the best one of theirs I’ve seen. I could break it right here, but it might put too much strain on our master.”

“-Ritsuka,” corrects Ritsuka.

“Ritsuka,” he echoes in our heads. He studies the door, then places his hand on the wall beside it, just before where I can sense the bounded field begin, and I feel a surge of mana from him. “I can point you to the weakest spots in the walls, but you’ll have to break the outer seal with your phantasm,” he informs me, “The rest of us don’t have the firepower right now.”

“Let’s go,” I agree, setting Ritsuka down and drawing my gun.

Emiya summons his bow and blows through a wall on our left easily, then indicates a spot to me on the forward wall, about eleven feet beside the door, and 3/4th the way up the wall. “There’s humans past this. Be ready to fight,” he warns us mentally.

I step up. “Let’s do this here and now.” I feel mana from Ritsuka flood me and level my gun with a surge of energy, “Fire!” The bullets tear into the wall and there’s one moment where they’re there in the wall, stuck on the bounded field, still pushing forward but not moving, like watching a fish try and break free from a net, then the bullets win and the wall shatters in a mass of metal and magic shrapnel. Emiya throws up a shield that looks like flower petals to me between us and the debris, and the second the initial burst is over, he dives in through the haze of dust. We all go with him, weapons ready. And he was right—there are people. About six mages sit at workstations, two of them already on their feet, shouting warnings and sending spells our way. There are four guard on our right side, and I can hear more people in the next room too. The first mage up summons a line of long needles, and is tactical enough to send them flying not at Emiya, but at Ritsuka past all of us. I move to deflect them, but Robin does the same ahead of me, furious, knocking them out of the way with his bracer and drawing on the mage who sent them, sending a bolt from his crossbow into their shoulder. The next one is smarter, summoning two golems from the ground to buy time. Robin takes a shot at one just before Emiya physically collides with it, ripping it to shreds with his shortswords, then spinning on his heel and taking the head off the second one. Panicked, the mage starts to cast another spell, but I hit him in the side before he can, and he goes down. It is real hard hitting someone deep enough with a gun that they go down for good, but don’t die, but I am tryin’ my best here. For the little boss.

The other four mages are all up now, and the guards have drawn their guns. King David’s gone in a flash, reappears by the heavily armored group, and starts taking them down with a shepherd’s staff which has to be one of the most cool things I’ve ever witnessed. He’s so floaty. Keeps springboarding off their machine guns when they try to take a shot and kicking them in the head, spinning around in the air and bringing his staff down right on top of another’s helmet. Springboards off that one’s chest as they fall back, then off the first one he hit too to project himself towards the last two, ramming his staff into both their necks at once.

Pretty sure he’s got that covered, I turn my attention back to the remaining four mages. One of them has summoned an arc shield around herself and the woman next to her, while the other is firing bolts of energy at Emiya and Robin from inside, and the other two have split up, one using mana to accelerate their own movement and try to move to flank us, the other getting some distance and trying to coordinate with the others by firing off stuns at range. He actually gets a hit on Emiya’s sword when the guy goes to deflect it in the middle of bringing down a golem and dodging another bolt, not catching it’s a stun in time, but he shakes it off somehow almost instantaneously—That’s right. The bounded field didn’t do much to him before, did it? Or not for long. Maybe he did know what that was. He’s good at that kind of thing. I call behind me to Salieri to take care of the flanker, and take a shot at the guy firing stuns. He manages to summon a shield fast enough to deflect my first shot, but the second one shatters it, and the third slams him in the shoulder and knocks him hard against the far wall hard enough he goes down.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Salieri pull what looks like violin strings made of blood from out of his own neck, and use his sword like a bow. Bursts of magic slam into the floor in front of the mage trying to flank us, and they fall partway through the floor and are left unable to dodge the last shot, which slams them squarely in the head and leaves them unconscious. I hope. Haha shit. We forgot to tell him Ritsuka pleaded with us to go non-lethal, huh? Whoops…

Ahead of me, the mage in the shield realizes that hitting Emiya isn’t going to work, and takes a shot at the unconscious lancer on his shoulder instead to throw him off. This has the opposite effect. Emiya barely rotates to keep the guy on his shoulder from being shot, then flings his shortswords at the barrier with so much force it shatters, and he’s in there almost as fast, catching the mage by the throat and flinging her into the far wall. Robin slides in and sweeps the feet out from the other, then knocks her unconscious with an elbow.

“Next room!” calls Emiya, indicating the same door I heard noise behind myself. The faster we go, the less chance they have to set up defenses. It occurs to me all of a sudden we have not assigned someone to bodyguard Ritsuka—a potentially fatal oversight—and slide back to stay with her as ahead of me, Emiya takes down the next door.

“Stay close, okay?” I ask her, trying to reassure her because she looks incredibly overwhelmed. Guess for your average teenager this is a whole lot of intense violence.

“Y-Yeah,” she manages, a little pale.

Shit.

“Hey, Salieri,” I call to him mentally, “Forgot to mention—Ritsuka bein’ a soft-hearted teenager, really wants us to kill as few folks as possible.”

“I’ve been informed,” he responds the same way, “She begged me to be merciful when I went to attack.”

I check with the senses I have as a servant to see if I can pick up the sound of the guy breathing from here. I can. Damn, I think, watching Salieri follow the others, And you held back. Guess you really like her too.

“Don’t worry—we’re doing what we promised,” I tell Ritsuka, “I can hear the heartbeats. –We’re holdin’ back.”

That seems to reassure her, and she gives me a nod. I pick her up and run after the others. They’re already breaking into a fight when I make the door. Less people here—just a couple security officers guarding the room, two people working tech diagnostics of some kind at terminals connected to a very large databank, plus one mage who seems to be overseeing things. The tech workers have taken one look at us and gone for the smartest human solution—an attempt to surrender—and curled up under one of the desks with their hands over their heads. The mage is shouting at them, and us, and security. One of the security members tries to shoot us, but King David lands a shot from his slingshot down the barrel faster than he can pull the trigger, and the weapon explodes on the guy. Emiya launches a couple swords at the other and pins him to a wall. The mage throws up a hand and starts to summon something, but I cap him in the knee and he falls to the ground cursing, then gets a kick to the head from Robin that lays him flat.

Beside us, Emiya flips the desk the tech workers are under and sends it skittering across the room and they both scream and try to crawl back. He’s way too fast to avoid, though, and darts past them, hitting them both behind the neck in passing, and they collapse, unconscious.

Emiya informs us mentally we’re almost to the core research station. That means probably a lot of people.

“When we get there, we’ll be able to find out if they summoned the last one?” checks Ritsuka.

“Probably,” comes Emiya’s reply, “Unless they’ve predicted us and flushed the system, we should be able to, so the faster we go in, the better.”

“Do you think they know where we are right now? The defenses have been surprisingly uncoordinated,” says Robin, flexing his fingers absently to keep them limber.

“There’s something wrong with security,” agrees Emiya, “Like we guessed before. Whatever is happening, it’s clearly deliberate, and I think it’s likely at this point we can agree it’s not a trap—it’s someone working towards their own goal.”

“Oh yeah! There definitely is! Someone was helping me earlier,” cuts in Ritsuka, “—I forgot-“

“-You forgot?” asks Robin.

“So much happened!” says Ritsuka, “But yeah, you were right,” she adds, turning to Emiya, “Someone is either helping us, or trying to hurt Ur-shanabi—or both—because they opened the door to Salieri’s cell for me, and sent me a message to go in.”

“Oh my god and she went,” says Robin so quiet only I can hear him. I feel him. You’re so nice but that sounds like such an obvious trap, I think, feeling the same distressed emotion I hear in Robin’s voice.

She reads the look on our faces. “Well, it worked! And they didn’t try and hurt me at all,” she pleads, “So my intuition was right!”

“I understand trusting your gut, and I respect that,” says Emiya very tiredly, “But please. Don’t do that in every suicidal situation that presents itself to you?”

“—Either way, that’s good, right?” says Ritsuka, “It helps us.”

“It does,” concedes Emiya in an exhausted done, “Probably, anyway. I wish you’d given us the full version earlier, because we really can’t postpone hitting the hub any longer without giving them way too much time to flush information or prepare. Once we’re out, please tell us everything.”

“Right,” says Ritsuka with a nod, serious now, “Sorry.”

He returns the nod. Then gets an annoyed  look on his face. “…Shit, if whoever is attacking Ur-shanabi is tapped in enough they’re communicating openly and controlling security feeds and doors for extended periods of time, we might run into trouble trying to hit the security station to find organization heads. We might not be able to access their information there at all.”

Oh. Shit… “What then?” I ask, “We still try and figure it out if that fails?”

“It’ll be dangerous to try and comb the whole building, if it comes that,” offers Salieri thoughtfully, “We should move preemptively if we can.”

“He has a point,” agrees Emiya. He considers. “Robin, you’re by far the best scout here. You should split off and try and find any head offices or command centers they have, or any leads on where leadership might be that you can find. If security is totally down, that’s the best shot we’ve got.”

Robin gives a nod and flips up his hood.

“Will you be okay alone?” Ritsuka asks worriedly.

“Sure he will,” I answer for him, “I never knew anybody better at keeping a low profile in a tight situation.”

Robin snorts and gives me a smile. “Something like that. –Who’s taking the composer?”

“I can,” says King David, happily taking Mozart from Robin and slinging him over both shoulders like he’s carrying a sheep. I feel like maybe I oughtta volunteer, since I ain’t at all so far, but I’m even shorter than King David…

“Alright. Best of luck,” says Robin with a two-fingered solute. He activates May King and vanishes.

“Okay!” Ritsuka calls after him, “But if you get into trouble, call to me, and I’ll use a spell!”

I hear him laugh quietly. “Well if that ain’t familiar,” he says, the sound of a smile in his voice, and he’s gone then.

“Okay—let’s be quick,” says Emiya, to the rest of us, “Last time they figured out where we were, they sent yokai after us.”

[crimsonandcloverwrites]

bhah ch8 reread as fast as i can before ch11 arrives help

aww Dani nervous for Jamie’s big race is so cute

i love Dani’s whole photography thing n her wanting to document their lives it’s so sweet

i’m suddenly stuck on the whole blue as a theme thing n now I’m noticing it everywhere/remembering their tent was blue and now their school colours are blue and Dani’s car is blue and I think Jamie’s house is blue. and of course THE SCRUNCHIE

god I love track star Jamie

flip these two are cute together

‘a favour for good luck’ god idk why this gets me so much I think like... Dani giving her this little piece of herself is so wholesome but weirdly loaded i just love it

the carson eddie banter is so funny sdkdhfgj

Dani is such a lil ball of emotions I’m obsessed w her feeling a million things while she watches Jamie

she’s a winner baby!!

also love that this is her setting the record that was mentioned in the prev chapter we love lil details being followed through

Jamie going straight for Dani when she won god that’s so cute

aw Jamie gets a kiss (and a whole gay crisis lol) for her win how sweet

oh no the beginnings of Dani and Eddie

pls this is so soft Carson and Judy so proud of Jamie

I just ate so many carbs I am finally properly fueled for this reading sprint (solidarity w Jamie)

aw Nan quietly proud of her

fkjdfh Dani and Jamie playing footsies at the table

god Nan n Jamie are such a force together truly terrifying to be stuck in the middle of I’m sure. Also fuuuck cld u imagine grown up Jamie and Nan interacting and Jamie in particular being a bit more chilled out and them getting along a lot better but finding their way back to silly little bickering arguments that are really just them knowing they can do that w each other and still be ok at the end of the day bc they love each other ouch it hurts to think about :(

lmao Jamie losing her mind at the sight of Dani in a towel lol I can just imagine her having the same reaction when they’re together too

oooh is the watch from Jamie’s great uncle (? Nan’s brother that she was named for right?) that’s so cool

ugh I want Dani to get her travel adventures so bad

god everytime Dani touches Jamie or says something really sweet or just gives her a look Jamie is suffering so bad

THE MIXTAPE (LITTLE BLUE DUDE SCREAMING AT THE SKY.MEME)

oh god they’re really just gonna curl up in Jamie’s bed and listen to this declaration of love mixtape while Jamie plays with Dani’s hair hold on a minute wait a second

oh no the eddie of it all

aw he brought her flowers (like I am not here for their relationship overall but he does do some sweet things sometimes and he does clearly care abt her)

ugh of course Jamie helped pick them out tho this whole situation is so complicated

god I’m so sad for both of them that their relationship ended up like this. Dani loses that friendship she cherishes so much when it becomes something else she never wanted and Eddie is in love w a girl who will never love him back that way. it really is heartbreaking

oh god the house party time for chaos

Jamie my beloved. sdkjfhsdkjfh and Roger trying to put the moves on her pls this will never stop being funny to me

ugh Dani already feeling so trapped in this life I hate it I hate it

Jamie fiddling w the coin necklace while she watches Dani n Eddie together feels like... she knows she’s losing Dani on some level ouch my heart

is this when Jamie was telling Ed of for letting Dani get drunk wdjkfhdj always the protector aw

she’s still wearing Dani’s scrunchie oh my god. u may have her hand ed but u will never have her hair ties

Dani’s dress MORE BLUE

this is such an interesting event w them like they’re best friends and they’re together so much but they avoid each other for half the party it’s so like... indicative I guess of things changing between them hmmmm

cursed spin the bottle. poor Dani

the zippo lighter. i love seeing things from the box in these chapters. like a gay scavenger hunt

the inadvertent cigarette kiss oh my god. also a little bit like... Jamie just leaning into the pain huh??? I get to put my lips where her lips were but it’s around this thing that has the potential to kill me. god the implications

a little fireside cuddling w ur soulmate ur never gonna kiss how romantic

the sandalwood. I fuckin love that she held onto this scent after Dani told her she smells nice one time. gays really do be like that huh

god this really is the softest moment

christ that almost kiss is so intense how did they just carry on as normal after that I would have died

lol “did i interrupt something?” bro........

dsfkjhdkj Jamie GROWLING at him hahhahahahhaha

oof Dani just wants more of her. I love there was the mention of her carefully constructed walls crumbling and now she’s just like... in this little bubble of almost with her n trying so hard to hold onto that in any way she can

and now she’s back w eddie ouch I hate watching the things she wants slipping out of her grasp

lmao Eddie not putting his arm around Dani when Jamie is there. she really put the fear of god in him I love this angry little lesbian so much

poor Carson being dragged to sports games like “no I’m gay I can’t”

lmao the pair of them trying to be sneaky smoking around the corner (and also having more Moments god the tension of it all)

oooh this Orpheus and Eurydice ref spicy (also fuck this was the beginning of her actually losing Jamie huh god the storytelling... *chef’s kiss*)

oh no Nan :(

god Karen is so awful how could u just break the news to your kid like that

it’s only pain hours from here on out huh

poor Jamie god my heart breaks

something about Dani saying she’s sorry and Jamie just saying she has to go put Mikey to bed fucking breaks me. the fact she’s just lost everything, her home and the stability she was missing from her childhood that she got to have for such a short time, and she can probably barely even process it but all she knows is she has to take care of Mikey. fuck

god her destroying her bike because she’s just so devestated but anger and destruction is easier to feel than being sad.... ouch

“You don’t - you don’t have to feel anything right now. I’ll feel it for you. For the both of us” how dare u make me cry like this

god Jamie giving the scrunchie back feels like such a fucking sad little acknowledgement of her deciding she has to do everything on her own noooo

Dani trying to confront her mom god this is all so much for them to be dealing with I am so sad

tiny mikey saying “want nana” so much pain

Jamie just clinging to Dani when they’re sitting in the pew bc it’s the only way she can ask for help right now ow

“Don’t fight me” my fcking heart this chapter is so sad I need a drink

Jamie is far too young to be self-medicating her way through this god this hurts to read.

this chapter has such a melancholic loss of innocence vibe like going from the teenage parties and boys and track meets and only really having to worry about themselves to this massive amount of responsibility on their shoulders when nan dies (like as much as Jamie tries to push her away Dani takes on a huge burden in trying to help her too) it’s so fucking saaaad

Jamie just breaking and finally crying all this out in Dani’s arms holyyyy shit that will never not break my heart

god Jamie just. determined to raise Mikey on her own cause god knows what the alternative is :(

oof the thread of Jamie determined to fix things. baby sometimes u just cant.

Dani trying so hard to hold things together in the ways that she can :*(

god this ending I am in pain. i know it’s ultimately for the best like Jamie and Mikey absolutely could not carry on like that but.... bro... bro..... ouch

ok gonna go cry in the shower for a bit n then i’ll be back for ch9

[yukipri]

On Deuce, Part 1 - a One Piece Mermaid AU Text Story

Alrighty, here's a story thing on Deuce!

My goal for this story? series? thing, is to not just give everyone a better idea of who Deuce is, but also bring up other Novel A characters and events that are relevant to the Mermaid AU (and there are several), especially for those who have not read the novels. Also want to give some info on what the hell Ace was doing in his Three Years between when he first left Dawn at 17, and him restarting his journey together with Lu.

I am defs in no way going to retell Novel A (if you wanna read them, the official English translations are out through Viz), but there are defs some major changes that occur in Ace's past as a result of Lu being a mermaid, that I feel are relevant and will tie in to some future decisions.

WARNINGS for this section:

＊I have not read the English translation of Novel A, only the original Japanese, and as such names etc. may be inconsistent.

＊This section contains MAJOR SPOILERS for Novel A volume 2, specifically about the identity of one of the novel only charas. If you want to read the novel without being spoiled, you may want to hold off on this, but if you don't care, go ahead!

＊Just a lotta Deuce being introspective, he's just that kind of guy.

＊Hint of implied AceLu

~~

Three years ago, Deuce met Ace on a deserted island, and they formed the Spade pirates together. Deuce was Ace's first crew mate on his first adventure, and he finds it poetic that he's also his first on his next, a journey all the way back to the starting point.

Deuce, in many ways, is Ace’s opposite. While Ace was the Spades' fire, their Sun, the charismatic leader who drew them together and whose flames fueled them forward, Deuce was the voice of reason and responsibility. Deuce was their strategist, their navigator, and their doctor all in one, a true First Mate who gave more orders than the captain to keep their crew functioning. If Ace was their beating heart, Deuce was their backbone.

Ace loved the Spades, and the Spades loved their captain, love him still, even after joining the Whitebeards. But Ace also carries darkness, and secrets that he decided he didn't want to burden his crew with, both for his benefit and theirs.

Ace has two major secrets: one, that he’s the Pirate King’s son, and two, that his “little brother” is a female mermaid.

The first, only Deuce knew among the Spades. He found out on accident, back on that deserted island where they first met.

Deuce likes to think that the rest of their crew would have accepted Ace regardless, that their faith wouldn't be so easily shaken by their captain's heritage. But at the same time, he both understands and sees wisdom in Ace choosing to remain silent. Knowledge of even the mere existence of the continuation of the Pirate King's bloodline is something that the World Government would and has killed for. Ace doesn't want to subject his crew to that, and to be honest, Deuce doesn't either.

But one other on their crew knew Ace's second secret, regarding the identity of his younger brother.

When Banshee, the lone woman on their crew, revealed that she was a mermaid, Ace's reaction wasn't that of a typical pirate. Their other crew members were a mix of awe at her tail, and rude disappointment that their mermaid crew mate was a plump older woman and not a sexy young babe.

But Deuce watched Ace, and saw his eyes widen, glued to the shimmering rich green of the mermaid's tail, and Deuce knew that he was being reminded of a specific person.

Deuce was already in the room when Ace asks Banshee to join them to talk in private. Deuce makes to leave, but Ace gestures for him to stay--after all, Deuce already knows what they're going to talk about.

"Auntie, sorry for calling you in here all of a sudden," Ace begins, using the nickname the crew had adopted for her.

"This is about me being a mermaid, isn't it," she says bluntly. "Is that going to be a problem, or...?"

"No, no, not at all!" Ace quickly holds out his hands placatingly, eyes wide.

Deuce doesn't blame Banshee for her wariness; he's heard more than enough about the dangers of mermaids out at sea, especially around pirates. Which, is probably what Ace wants to talk about anyway.

"It's...well, this is less me wanting to ask you questions, and more me wanting to let you know something," Ace begins, and Banshee frowns. The crew knows the basics of their captain's origins, and has had their ears chatted off about his love for his brother--but he doesn't talk much about himself much.

"It's about my little brother--"

Banshee heaves a huge sigh, all tension leaving her shoulders, and she throws an are you fucking kidding me glance at Deuce, who also sighs but minutely shakes his head to redirect her incredulous gaze back to Ace. Because well yeah, it is about Luffy, but it's actually serious this time.

"Well, you know my little brother Luffy," Ace begins again. "I don't tell a lot of people this, and actually other than you, only Deuce here knows. But...he, is actually a she, and she's, well, a mermaid."

Deuce watches the information sink in, because it clearly wasn't what Banshee was expecting.

"Is that why you caller her 'younger brother'?" she finally asks.

"Well that...that's a bit complicated, actually. That's not the reason why she's my younger brother. But I realized it's convenient, so I've just been going with it."

"I was going to say, if it's intentional, that's awfully clever of you, captain," she smiles teasingly, and Ace sputters while Deuce snorts. Banshee has a point, because Deuce actually had been the one who'd mentioned the convenience of the title 'little brother' in protecting Luffy's identity. But, he keeps quiet for now.

"So, yeah, I just wanted to let you know that well, that's where I stand regarding mermaids." Ace shrugs, then scritches his cheek, looking away. He's always awkward about Feelings talk, but it needed to be said, and Deuce feels proud of him.

Because mermaids are so incredibly vulnerable above sea level, surrounded by humans. While young maidens are the most targeted, coveted by slavers as a free ticket to wealth, power, and connections to even the Celestial Dragons, even an older woman like Banshee might face discrimination and danger. Ace had wanted to make Banshee feel safe and secure on his ship, and revealed his own familial connections to give his words weight.

The woman smiles fondly at Ace, much like she might a son, and ruffles his hair as Ace blinks dumbly. "Thank you, captain," she says. "I knew I had a good feeling about you, before I asked to join this crew. It's not often a mermaid joins a pirate crew, you know?"

"You surprised me, I didn't know mermaids could have legs," Ace says honestly, eyes brimming with blatant innocent curiosity as they flick shyly to her feet, and Banshee ruffles Ace's hair harder. "It's my first time meeting a mermaid other than Lu."

"Mmm, well, she seems to be in good hands, with an older brother who knows how to be discreet about her, even if it's only by following Deuce's plans," she says, and Deuce guffaws while Ace buries his face in his hands, because of course she'd already guessed. "But well, I know now. So you can ask me anything you'd like, and tell me about her, if you want."

With Banshee's invitation, Ace pounces on the opportunity, and Deuce listens in even as he continues writing in his journal, occasionally taking notes in the margins when their their conversation gets interesting. Banshee tells them how merfolk tails split when they reach thirty, allowing them to live as humans on land. She tries to convince Ace to keep his brother hidden until that age, when mermaids are far safer and less attractive to slavers, but Ace shakes his head. It was hard enough convincing her to stay behind this time. She'll be leaping off that island at seventeen, no matter what I say.

Eventually, someone comes banging on the door to pitifully beg Banshee for food.

"Thank you, Auntie," Ace says as they get up to rejoin the crew outside.

"You talk to me again whenever you want, captain. And I'm always ears to hear more about your darling Luffy." She says the last part with a knowing little wink, before stepping out, leaving Ace blinking with confusion.

Deuce sighs, because Ace can be oblivious at times, and clearly doesn't know how he looks when he talks about Luffy. And Banshee just found out that said Luffy's a girl, a mermaid, and unrelated to Ace by blood.

To be fair, Deuce's pretty confident that Ace's feelings wouldn't be any different even if Luffy was a guy and human, but he gets where Banshee's coming from. Even if it still seems far too early for Ace to come to any realizations about himself.

~~

~~

~~

Bc YEAH, Ace had a mermaid on his crew, so of course that is Majorly Relevant to AU.

Prolly jumping right to Whitebeards next update for this series, whee~

As always, thank you so much for reading, and an extra thank you so much to anyone who can spare me a few words of thoughts! ;A;

❀ ❀ Send YukiPri an Ask! ❀ ❀

~This ask has been added to the Mermaid AU Text Headcanons Compilation post~

[jean-does-not-have-a-horseface]

Before Dawn: Bonus Chapter (1)

Helloooooo, alright listen, I re read a choice with no regrets and uhm here is this, a little insight on what has happened a little while before our story began, I'm sure you'll want to see some nice bonding with Isabel

Warnings: just a few teeny little mentions of intercourse

@hidehaskak of course here's your tag❤️

Turtleneck

"Yehawhaww" The moment you appeared at the entrance to the roof Isabel screamed at the top of her lungs in great enthusiasm. You stood silent after you spared her a smuggling nod pacing your eyes between the two men that accompanied her, awaiting for a signal of approval. "I knew I could get you to come! You guys don't mind her hanging out with us right? She's a friend."

At that sound the males finally gave in, letting Isabel close the distance between the both of you. Her significantly smaller arms wrapped around your frame in a pure hearted childish manner and seeing that you towered over her you placed your hands on the small of her back, almost too reassuringly to the males' liking. Their unforgiving gazes burned holes in your whole body with much rage built in for ruining their fun for the night.

You knew you were practically unwanted, but it was for Isabel that you stepped foot on this rooftop to begin with. Tired of her never ending pleas to join her and her so called bros as they looked at the stars and talked about everything and anything you had decided to violate curfew and join her, not them, just her, because you wanted to share some more moments with her. This young little redhead was growing on you in the best way possible, you thought she kind of reminded you of yourself in times where you needed salvage or just a friend with whom you could share your piece of mind and heart.

She wasn't like that at first. Isabel probably resembled a rose, it occurred to you, with her godly youthful looks and her thorn like personality. It was a result from growing up in a trashhole like the underground, among thugs, being forced to build a rough personality if she wanted to survive, it was merciless for her and any other girl down there. But the bubbly side of her personality assured you she was much more than a badass teen who could hand you your ass in any fight, she had a pure heart and you longed to help her feel like she deserved post childhood experiences. But for now, it felt as if your roles had reversed. Sure, you were -if not just as her- bubbly and kind but sometimes you were frustratingly unresponsive and ill faced that it worried her until she got to know you. You hadn't put yourself in a place to talk about you trauma to her; she had her own demons and there was no point in burdening her with your abusive background, but you managed to explain to her that most of your weird and uptight behaviors, most things you could dispose of to become a better person, were curved into you in ways you could share yet. And Isabel, as respectful as ever had assured you it was fine not to be able to share.

Most girls would shut her out due to her formal nature as a thug, much like your friends who at first were adamant about discouraging you to befriend her. They had assumed she wouldn't be able to be nice and kind or to talk like them, but you were against any pretentious act behind her back. Maybe it was due to egoistical motives that you wanted to salvage this little girl, because she reminded her of you, and Nanaba, the only person who fully knew about your situation was taking a stand against this at first. She didn't want you to hurt yourself or the redhead in the process of trying to project your condition on her. But you didn't give up. With Isabel as your new bunkmate you had many chances of getting it right.

"Did you bring what I asked you to?" Isabel hurriedly asked, reaching her hands to make a quest inside the tote bag that you carried. You showed no sign of holding back as you let her peak into the cream colored bind, but only managed to cover your ear as her squeks got louder. "Thank you thank you thank you! Sit down, show me!

Isabel shooed Levi and Furlan apart, placing herself right next to the blond man while tapping her hand on her left side. You followed her smile hesitantly and proceeded to sit down to where her hand was rested a few seconds ago, next to Levi. You felt his eyes ravaging your whole form, up and down as if you were some dirty pig that seeked to rub its mud onto him. When seated neatly enough as to not touch him you proceeded to pry open your tote bag and toss a share of it insides to Isabel.

With a determined face she got a strong hold of the grey colored yarn and the pair of slightly thick needles you had managed to recover for her. "Okay show me, show me!"

"Oh what's that?" Furlan peeked his head over Isabel's shoulder to inspect of the situation.

"It's yarn and needles."

"Ahh, Furlan don't interrupt, (y/n) show me how to cast on!"

"See that's the easiest part, sweetheart." You watched Isabel coo at the support in your tone while she puckered her lips to a cute kid like pout. She followed your slow movements as if you were a goddess, showing her how to create new wolds with her strained hands.

Levi, even though he was suspicious of you, a member of Erwin's team who tried to coax her way into Isabel's life, felt somehow relieved to see that beloved expression on Isabel's face. He had overheard her once, taking to her self in the mirror, wishing she had a lady friend to spend time with and it pained him that she had a feeling of such lack inside her. Therefore your presence was a little soothing in their company. He would be lying if he said he personally didn't like it. After all he had thought you were a beautiful company to Erwin in one of the many times he had come across him in the Underground, silently watching him from the shadows. Not that he was a creep to begin with, it was just his lack and a response to the question of whether you can ever see a stranger twice, that you were actually a scout.

"Where did you learn to do this (y/n?)" Furlan was set to break off Levi's thoughts for one too many times tonight.

"Old mothers are adamant about these things, you know, good girl stuff and all."

"Oh." He began with a flirtatious tone that made both Levi and Isabel turn to him wide eyed "Good girl huh? Every Bad boys dream, including min- ah shit Isabel, ouch!"

The squint in Isabel's eyes was something that you couldn't see and you even ignored it as a matter of fact. Isabel was aware of your teeny crush on Levi, she had gotten it out of you one day during training after she had caught you gawking and drooling at him for doing the bare minimum. It was simply natural for her to get overly excited at the fact. Ever since then she had been convinced that him and you would be a perfect match, that you wouldn't have to be so uptight with him after all but you would always brush her off. It didn't torment you just get, even if his cold gaze somehow tickled your heart at certain times you were perfectly fine with hanging out around him. But there was no point in trying to convince Isabel to give up, not when she practically lived off of you and the male duo. Perhaps that was why she had squinted her eyes so hard at Farlan, she didn't want the couple in her head to be broken apart before it even started.

For the rest of your time with them you barely speak. You were fine with standing there and knitting away your project, a grey ribbed sweater that you had accidentally managed to make huge up to a certain point when you didn't find a purpose in casting off and undoing. You wondered if Isabel really wanted to knit or if it was her excuse to have you hang out with the ravenette since she had seemed to long forget about her needles and was fixated on a bottle of booze, talking away about some merchants in the underground flee market. You figured you should take your leave being to alienated to break their usual trio, you couldn't even keep up with their conversations, not that they cared to include you.

"So if you're all about playing housewife what are you doing here?" Farlan's voice calls out to you almost strained from any actual purpose, he probably knew it was kind of rude on the part to not include you after Isabel had invited you.

You remained silent for a few moments, tilting your head back to stare at the jewel decorated dark sky. Finding the right words for your purpose seemed unbelievably difficult and suffocating but it perhaps was nothing compared to their previous lifestyle.

"I didn't want to die." Two of the three almost fall to instant, bubbling laughter the moment your thoughts longer in the air as actual words.

"And you came here out of all places?" Levi sternly inquired without ever initiating some sort of eye contact.

"I wasn't top of my class, but even if I was I wouldn't go in the MP. I don't want to live a full life as a bastard you know and Garrison, let's say I have my reasons as to not going there."

Something about that bastard themed sentence caused curiosity to twitch inside Levi's chest but he didn't quest on it, oversharing wasn't in his plans to do so with a practical stranger, even if deep down you didn't exactly feel like one. He couldn't be explain that feeling but he could certainly understand what it was that made Isabel so attached to you. Something about your aura was like fresh, dripping honey, unprocessed yet sweet and endearing and overpoweringly strong to the flavor.

"You're not a bastard you had parents right? You just talked about your old mother."

Conveniently, Farlan's words allowed you to shut up and look away, further away from the former thug trio and into the vast horizon that laid before you. You contemplated what was it that enamored everyone outside the walls. With all that death, the scouts corpses that rot every where, you didn't have anything against the walls or life inside, taking down Titans and following orders was therapeutic enough to you as long as you came back to an eventual cup of milk tea and your knitting and embroidering projects. You couldn't bring yourself to give a damn about your future, but you liked fighting for the future of others, maybe somewhere there was a child, just like you, who wanted to get away from an abusive household and start a new life or pick up on experiences they had never lived. These people deserved not to feel caged inside the walls and plus, the nature of the Titans was very much appealing to you due to Erwin and his constant pep talks.

"Wait so how did you end up in Erwin's squad if you're mediocre?" Farlan pushed again, not wanting to let you stay silent for what's worth it.

"Don't forget I'm a veteran. I've outpassed the years a scout is expected to live so Erwin decided to move me to his squad, Mike insisted since we were from the same district."

"Oh so you fucked your way up huh?"

With the corner of his eye Levi watched as your eyes widened in shock. He couldn't possible know about your past, but you didn't seem the tyoe to go around and fuck your superiors so you could earn a higher rank. You were too ignorant to anything, it was prominent that you didn't care about even receiving your own room for serving well all these years.

"How dare you! As if it's something to open your legs for!" There it was, sweet confirmation that you indeed were ignorant.

"Good girl and all huh?"

"Sure."

There was something tense in the air as Farlan flirted, the subtle roll in your eyes, the unusual monotony of Isabel's voice, even Levi has seemed to bring his shoulders towards his collarbones in any attempt to distance his mind off of the unrequited nature of scenery. You weren't flirting back, momentarily he wondered if you even knew how since the sheer blush on your face betrayed your otherwise distinctive spitfire. You acted more childish than Isabel, in a way that you probably didn't realise caught Levi's attention because he didn't mind to spare you a glare, he'd rather keep it to himself.

____

Next time, it was supposed to be Farlan who approached to help you get your foot out of the muddy hole it was stuck to, Isabel squealed profanities at him, but it was Levi who had managed to push past him and the redhead, exposing his self to the cold pouring rain to run towards you. Just how stupid of your team was to leave you in the pouring rain to make your foot in your own?

His mind was at gaze as he sprint, random thoughts filling empty apathetic species that begged for overthinking to take over them. He knew Farlan didn't really like you, he was just trying to such to their plan and keeping you close was in sole purpose of getting closer to Erwin but for Isabel is want like that. She really liked your company, even he enjoyed some of your company at times and they weren't taking any chances with using you.

Moreover and much to his despise, he found himself in a very murky situation with each extension of his foot to your location. Fuck did you really have to look like that? With one leg stretched, toned bottom swaying in the air, strong veiny hands gripping on your knee, mud on the tips of your fingers and hair wet, making wild moves as you flipped your head upwards to get it out of your face. He twitched at the way a small tress stuck to your chapped lips, almost as if you were a goddess of water, a Nereid, as if you were made to be in this drenched state. Small droplets traveled from your chin down your exposed neck, hiding inside the base of your soft grey turtleneck, it was indeed a magnetising scenery, an alluring unraveling play to his eyes but he dared to rip his eyes away. He wondered if anyone could perceive this scene the way that only he did.

"Tch, try not to get that filth on me." He spoke as his sleek palms wrapped around your torso in delicate force, fitting almost perfectly. He closed his eyes. What the fuck was he even thinking? He wasn't even going to stay here for long.

"Wouldn't dream of it, but I beg of you to help before I get sick"

From a distance Isabel watched with teary eyes. A soft feeling of happiness engulfed her whole, not letting her give some form of attention to Farlan who clicked his tongue.

"Whatever Farlan, Levi is finally going to get some action for once. It's not like it's interfering with our mission!" Her brows forrowed at his sight. "He likes her, can't you see?"

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that if you don't actually tell him"

Her eyes harded at what Farlan had said. Of course, she knew Levi would deny ever laying his eyes on anyone but she wanted to be there to watch him experience falling in love, hell even falling out of it. Farlan should plainly accept that Levi is not always going to be hang up from their group. Sticking together even after their time at the military was a given, but wanting to have lovers and relationships now that they could enjoy their lives? Isabel was eagerly excited for it.

She watched you and Levi as you freed your leg from the muddy puddle, flying over by the force you had both been laboring and falling on too of each other, Levi's face was contorted in anger, fumingly red as he tried not to tell at you and she was definite about his feelings towards you.

Outside and laid with his back in the mud, Levi felt startled in a way he hadn't experienced before. He could faintly feel the tips of your breasts on his chest and he guessed you were using cloth binds since the impact wasn't enough to get him beyond a little flustered, but he could admit that this was embarrassing. He was angry, for being muddy that is, god knows just how much he despised mud and the smell of filthy rain but there was something about the way you straddled him and it touched a little flicker inside of him that told him it was alright to be muddy for a few more seconds, as long as he was underneath you. Despite his lack of experience in romantic or tense moments, he only had had sex a few times that he could count on one hand and he had despised each one for being disgustingly filthy, he definitely could sense the electric field in the air around you.

But as soon as the moment occured and you took your glistering eyes off of his, you pushed strength into your arms, digging your palms in the dirt to lift your self up and he was once again his normal self. With a click if his tongue he slipped from underneath you, denying your open hand that seeked to offer him a little help. He wasn't here for a sappy little romantic adventure, he was here to find those documents and kill Erwin, you were merely getting in the way of his brain functioning properly.

[frumfrumfroo]

I wrote a thing (Leia and Ben reunion angst)

.

Lamentations

Leia Organa hadn't really planned on getting old.

Not that she’d particularly expected to die young, either. The possibility (even probability) was certainly very real considering her tireless campaign to put herself in the thick of imminent danger, but logical reasoning about the likely outcome was never any match for her ambitions in life. Sheer bravado and the arrogance of youth had always been more than adequate to the task of pushing the reality of death from her mind. Even when fear or doubt got a grip, she had taken for granted that her rude good health and unshakeable self-assurance would continue in perpetuity as long as she managed to survive.

She hadn’t counted on a day dawning when she could no longer take matters into her own hands if need be. When tenacity might not be enough.

Now, hobbling down a corridor with the cane she hated but couldn’t yet do without no matter what her pride said, finding it slightly hard to catch her breath, she felt the years like anchors on every limb. She felt the weight of her choices pressing her shoulders down from their habitual imperious uprightness into an aged stoop. 

She was on her way to meet her own son for the first time as a grown man and the harm she had done him, her failures as a mother, trailed her like a colossal shadow. She sensed the cold presence of the past looming over her, its encroaching guilt nipping at her heels, and it made her feel more ancient than the deepest rivers of the Force. As if her bones were formed from brittle primordial rock, apt to shatter with a touch.

If Han were here he’d cut her down to size for thinking she was the one keeping the whole universe together, for trying to bear every burden, fight every good fight. He’d depreciate himself and distract her from her navel gazing, bounce her back into reality and remind her not everything depended on her. But small things did. Smaller things than she ever remembered to notice. He’d kiss her on the forehead and forgive her for her self-importance. Han had kept her human when single-minded, hotheaded determination threatened to turn her into some kind of overbearing political droid.

But he wasn’t here and never would be again.

When the girl, Rey, repeated her story of what had happened on Starkiller Base, this time after her sojourn on Ahch-to, and in much more detail than before… It was the first time Leia wondered if she ought to blame herself a lot more personally than she ever had, if it were her fears and hurts, her emotional retaining wall which created an opportunity for Snoke. Perhaps it wasn’t so inevitable, the enemy wasn’t so crafty, and she had simply abdicated her post as guardian. Every far-flung, bleeding heart responsibility she’d voluntarily taken on in her life- some she’d deliberately snatched out of other, more cautious hands- and she’d shunned the one which had the strongest, most natural claim on her. It was the one job she was worried she couldn’t do.

He’d been so small when she’d pulled his childish, clutching fingers away from the folds of her dress and pressed him firmly towards his uncle. He’d been only just as tall as her chest, gangly and skinny in the aftermath of his first growth spurt. His eyes had looked huge in his slim face, enormous and soulful pools of hazel gold and brown. Pleading. She remembered putting her hands on his shoulders and smoothing back his hair as she looked at him and tried not to notice the sheen of unshed tears, the trembling of his lower lip. She’d decided this was best for him and so she had turned a deaf ear to any potential entreaties, unwilling to be swayed from wisdom by sentiment. It had to be done. For his own good, she had to pretend this didn’t hurt. She couldn’t waver.

All her life she hadn’t had time for her sorrows, all her life she could ill-afford the luxury of indulging her feelings. When was it time? When had she fought for long enough?

When she won. That was always the answer. She’d rest, she’d have a life, when she had made a universe worth living in. When she’d made things right. What could be more important?

“There’s always some new crusade, though, isn’t there, sweetheart?”

Han’s voice, sharp on the endearment which he’d always used equally often in chastisement as in affection, laden with barely concealed hurt. She heard his pain, but she chose not to listen to it.

She’d thought there’d be time to make it up to him. She thought they would wait for her, her family, that her life would wait for her.

Her step faltered when she found herself standing outside the room in the med suite where Ben was recuperating. He was mobile now, his wounds were closed and his ribs were healing. He’d needed a lot of rest, more for mental and spiritual exhaustion than physical damage. He’d become a conduit in the Force the like of which was only heard of in legend and there had been some question if he would survive. She’d kept abreast of his condition since she’d been told of his arrival three days ago; he’d been in her every thought and breath and prayer, but she couldn’t visit. There was too much to do, too many people to oversee and decisions to make. She had plenty of excuses to keep avoiding the reckoning. 

Reportedly Rey hadn’t left his bedside once, never further from him than the fresher in the corner of the room. Poe said she was like a wild animal with a cub, hovering protectively over his prone body and questioning anyone who wanted to get near him. She’d maintained a death grip on his hand which only loosened slightly when she fell asleep in her chair at his side. Her own injuries were tended by a droid, under protest and without anaesthetic.

Leia leaned against the corridor wall and tried for what felt like the latest in several trillion attempts to come to terms with what Rey had told her about Luke. About Ben.

And she knew she deserved to blame herself. She knew. If he’d thought he could come home, he would have, and who had made him think he couldn’t? Han had fought for him and she’d have to tell him that no matter how painful it was to admit, she’d have to make sure he understood it wasn’t his father’s idea that Anakin’s blood flowed with latent corruption- not until she’d convinced him it did. Not until her secret festering fears clouded over the dawning love and hope they’d sacrificed so much to have.

The supreme necessity of forgiveness, of giving it and receiving it both, had become the hardest lesson she would ever learn. Her famously indomitable righteous anger had perished with a whimper, suffocated itself in weariness and despair; it was only fear that lived forever. It was fear which chained love, shackled hope, and bound the soul in darkness. And forgiveness drove out fear.

If Ben could forgive her, it seemed a mere pittance to forgive him.

When she rounded the corner the kids were silent but clearly communicating, the power of their connection like a subtle crackle in the Force which raised the hairs on the back of her neck. Rey was sitting on the edge of his cot, their heads very close together and her hands clasping both of his. Leia absorbed Rey’s mood first because it didn’t hurt nearly so much to look at Rey. The smile on her lips and the contentment in her eyes spoke of a peace the girl had never shown before. There was a confidence about her now, a knowingness. Leia had sensed she was searching for something from the moment she’d first seen her, noticed the void she was trying to fill. Leia had an eye for pressure points in people. She’d made use of Rey’s in hope that it would help her reach Luke. There might be an apology owed in that quarter too, but all thoughts of Rey vanished when Ben noticed her presence.

His head turned towards her and his face froze in an expression between horror and anguish, his pleading eyes just as she remembered them. He had a lot of his father in him, so much that it was striking, and a stab of agony lodged itself between her ribs that felt like her heart being pierced. But there was also so much of her in those eyes, in the slope of his jaw and the shape of his chin that she almost felt as if she were looking into a kaleidoscope reflection of her younger self. The certain, unshakable self she still half expected to see in the mirror before she turned on the vanity lights. He was a perfect marriage of her features and Han’s, with his broad cheekbones and regal profile, his full mouth and deep set eyes. 

It was probably because he seemed in that moment somehow both a mirror and the spitting image of her husband that it was the shame which hit her first. She couldn’t help but spin around and cover her mouth to try to swallow a cry.

There was a tiny gasping noise from behind her and then Rey’s voice murmuring something. She couldn’t focus on the words, couldn’t understand what was being said, but she knew the sound of pain was from Ben. He thought she couldn’t bear to look at him.

And she couldn’t, but not for the reasons he must be imagining.

She gathered her dignity and forced herself to look again. He was clutching his blankets where they pooled at his waist, his long black hair falling in soft waves which framed the drawn pallor of his face very starkly. He looked ill and frightened. Vulnerable, a child again.

“Ben,” she choked out. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, my darling boy. I’m so sorry.”

She didn’t know how long she’d been weeping into her hands when someone began to gently pry them away from her face, but her cheeks were wet and her eyes stung. She raised her gaze only to be confronted with a wide expanse of chest covered in the soft, oversized hospital smock which was standard issue for checked-in patients. She looked up, and up, and up to meet his eyes and couldn’t remember ever feeling so small in her life. 

Leia was a short woman and used to fighting to get the world on her level, but this was her baby. She’d carried him in her belly, held him in her hands, she’d last seen him when she still had to crouch to speak to him eye to eye. His once little fingers now dwarfed her entire arm where he was holding her wrist and he towered over her to such an extent that the top of her head barely reached the middle of his sternum. Her baby was grown up and she hadn’t seen him in person since he was ten. Since their heights had been the inverse of this tableau. He’d become a man and she’d been there for none of it. She’d chosen not to be.

Ben was leaning down, studying her with trepidatious concern, and she couldn’t help but reach up and touch his face. She put his hair behind his ear and cradled his cheek in her palm, feeling the living warmth of his skin and the tickling sensation of a hot tear which rolled down from the corner of his eye and under her thumb.

“Look how beautiful you are,” she said, almost without meaning to.

He ducked towards her hand, hiding behind his hair.

She wrapped her arms around him and he folded into her, dropping nearly to his knees so he could hug her back, so tightly that it almost hurt. He was very strong, the harsh conditioning of a footsoldier obvious in the broad muscles of his back beneath her hands, and it hurt to think how badly he must have needed to be, how much he’d needed to rely on himself and his ability to fight. How he’d never been safe anywhere from the moment he was born.

“I’m sorry,” she said again. He sobbed hard into her shoulder, as if the words had broken a dam inside him. Deep, wracking sobs that shook his whole body and made her hold him as close as she could and whisper to him the way she had when he was a fussing infant, when the nightmares she never dared to tell her brother about had gripped him in their malingering claws. When the fear of darkness which ended up swallowing their little family encroached too close. “Shhsh, shhsh, it’s all right now.”

His voice cracked when he finally managed to tell her, “It’s me- I'm sorry; it’s me, it’s me, it’s me. How can you stand it, how can you stand it?”

Leia suddenly found herself meeting Rey’s penetrating gaze over his head. If there was judgement there, it was less harsh than it justly could have been.

“I should have protected you. I didn’t protect you.”

“Mother,” he croaked with enormous difficulty, “I killed him.”

Her stomach rolled over and her vision blurred with fresh tears, but she held him with her, gripping the fabric of his shirt with white-knuckle intensity. “He loved you. I love you. I’m so sorry.”

His face collapsed like wet linen and he slid to the floor at her feet, burying his head in her skirts. There was a mantra of apologies and self-recriminations amongst the desperate sobs and she lowered a shaking hand to stroke his hair. 

“Ben, don’t. Please. Please don’t. Your father knew, he understood.”

Red eyes peeked up at her, his chin was trembling and those same fingers were clutching her skirts again and she wished she could go back to that day and tell herself her child needed her more than the galactic senate ever would. He needed honesty, his mother and his family, not a comfortable lie, a Jedi master or a carefully constrained destiny. She wished she’d seen him as clearly then as she did now, that she hadn’t been too afraid to look. She wished Han could be here to celebrate beating the odds one last time.

“If he could, he’d tell you this was the fairest trade he ever made.”

[hellzyeahwebwielingessays]

Lets debunk the BS from this. Up top a lot of this BS comes from Bob Chipman/MovieBob who is the guy who if you recall said:

-         Superheroes like Superman (and thus by extension Spider-Man who marry civilians were jerks for putting their spouses through the same stuff soldiers’ spouses go through

-         Spider-Man appeals best to teens (even though he provably doesn’t since most people get into him before their teens and he appealed to college students in his heyday)

-         The Spider-Marriage was nothing more than a forced publicity stunt

-         Sins Past is worse than OMD

-         Spider-Man is about passive aggressive power

-         And the best one, ever since OMD Peter and MJ had become ‘more interesting’

That all being said lets dive into this:

Someone asked the panel what a queer reading would add to the character of Miles…Jesus…that’s just the greatest sign of hope for this podcast isn’t it? Shoot me now…

Miles was not 3 dimensional when he was created. Even if you disagree it is nonsense to say that Peter wasn’t  three dimensional when he was first created. Just look at how much Stan explored Peter’s psychology in this singular panel from ASM #50

Look at that. Peter Parker pulled between the two sides of his life. Making a judgement of someone. But then calling out his own judgement of them and acknowledging maybe he’s in the wrong.

This was 1967!

That isn’t three dimensional?

Additionally other people would disagree that Peter wasn’t three dimensional early on.

And even if you disagree with that it’s nonsense to say he hasn’t SINCE become three dimensional or that retaining his origin story (which Miles broadly uses as the basis for his story in every version of his character) somehow holds him back from being three dimensional. If nothing else Peter was at least multifaceted for the time period.

Spider-Man wasn’t an example of stories about a 15 year old made for 7 year olds. Spider-Man was intended to be a senior in AF #15 and the stories were written by Stan for at worst an older audience but at best basically just for him.

Stan Lee confirmed that AF #15 was written not as a one off but as something that if successful COULD become an on-going series.

Its BS to say Peter makes no sense as a character because he makes sense about as much as any character within the confines of the superhero genre can. MILES doesn’t somehow make more sense whatsoever.

No. Spider-Man wasn’t merely a thrown together ‘hey here is a teenage superhero story with a downer ending’ it was a story about selfishness, responsibility and appealed via it’s relative normalcy and lack of idealization of the superhero protagonist.

The psychology and thematic idea of his exclusive powers (invisibility+venom blast) is the same…how? How is disappearing and repelling people the same thing? They keep saying that in the podcast as though it’s obvious and it’s really not

Great Power=Great responsibility isn’t Peter’s catch phrase it’s the philosophy underpinning everything he does

‘The young end millennials have been thrown under the bus by society so the optimism is reserved for the young end millenials like Miles and Gwen’ oh but also ‘you need 5-10 years added to each character to have this make sense and also Spide-Ham doesn’t quit fit’…So…the theory doesn’t  make sense then does it. Also, what optimism is there for teen millenials in the late 2010s? We are all shit scared Global warming needs to be fixed within the next 10-20 years. The young end millenials will not be in much of a position to do that. Maybe not the high-end millenials either. The power rests in older Gen Xers or even older generations. So this ‘generational’ theory is bullshit. Yeah, Miles as the next generation maybe makes sense but not when you apply real world concepts of who the different generations are. Especially considering that’s made up bullshit anyway.

‘Blah blah blah for most of my life I’ve been uninterested in Spider-Man because I’ve believed him to be WHITE MALE teenaged wish fulfilment.’…*internally groans*…oh boy…this woman is one of those  types huh. Frankly I, and I would advocate others too, take a salt shaker with them whenever they hear someone say something like this. But more importantly Spider-Man is seriously NOT what she describes. For starters Peter was a senior in high school when he began and shouldered adult responsibilities when his father died. That’s wish fulfilment? That’s a BURDEN. The reason that spoke to so many people was because he was just different and because his imperfections made him more relatable. The whiteness idea is also bullshit since he was intentionally or otherwise subtextually Jewish and has spoken to countless people of all colours across the generations. He very particularly has a HUGE following among African Americans which was partially what prompted the creation of Miles Morals in the first place!  Shit, the showrunner for the 1994 Spider-Man cartoon was black for God’s sake. Many of the head honcho creators for ITSV were people of colour who were clearly MASSIVE Spider-Man fans!

‘As a woman Spider-Man didn’t resonate with me’. Spider-Man is male. And he acts in ways a male would in the context of the situations. But the character as a whole, in his deepest themes and concepts, is a universal character. He does and has spoken to people across race, gender, sex, sexuality, class, culture and generations. Spider-Girl, Mayday Parker, was her father’s daughter and far more similar than different to him. She spoke to male and female readers. Peter Parker himself has had female fans since his inception. There is no end of female fans here on tumblr or in other online spaces that are the proof of this, to say nothing of old letters pages.

Miles feels more like a real kid and fits together better than most other versions of Peter Parker?...how? I don’t like USM the comic but hwo the fuck do you take that, Spec Spidey, the 1994 cartoon and the Raimi movies (that MovieBob adores btw) and say ‘it doesn’t fit together properly like Miles’. Dude, Comic Book Miles Morales is a teenager in New York who goes to a bordering school for scientifically gifted kids and yet is supposed to be an everyman. That fits together well? He risked his life before  being motivated to do so which is how most 13 year old woudn’t  have acted. Then he feels guilty about Peter dying but his BFF explains it’s not his fault and he accepts this but then goes on to become Spider-Man anyway. And somehow this equates to guilt+responsibility. THAT’s better put together? His character got web-shooters two different ways by the same writer and the guy he was a legacy to was resurrected within like 3 years of Miles’ debut. That’s well put together? This makes more sense and is more believable than a kid who’s Dad dies because he didn’t use his gifts altruistically, so he spends his whole life striving to use them altruistically?

Blah blah blah MovieBob spewing more shit about how Peter is a teenage wish fulfilment power fantasy even though he clearly isn’t from a modern POV and REALLY wasn’t in the early 1960s.

By extension arguing Peter is an adult male’s retroactive teenaged wish fulfilment fantasy of working stuff out is so plainly wrong. Peter Parker in the early 1960s didn’t have everything figured out. The whole world was against him totally unfairly. He needed Aunt May or the Human Torch at times to give him pep talks. His social life was barely existent! You wanna see a middle aged man’s retroactive young wish fulfilment fantasy? Go read Brand New Day, which MovieBob claims was superior to the pre-OMD era. What is the wish fulfilment here? That attractive young women like him? Is that it? That one thing vs. all the horrible shit beating Peter down?

Bob claims there was a lot more Steve Ditko in the early issues of his run compared to Stan Lee because Peter was very angry. First of all Ditko was such a private person claiming he was definitely angry and that the anger was all him is a MASSIVE speculation. Especially considering Stan wrote Spidey as angry plenty after Ditko left. More importantly, Peter wasn’t  angry in the early Ditko issues except for maybe issue #8. He had his moments sure, but it wasn’t at all consistent. He wasn’t raging out or smashing shit like he did later  in Ditko’s run. He was more anxious and neurotic in those early issues which is comparatively closer to how Stan and Romita handled Peter in their earliest issues together. Peter and the whole world of Spidey got angrier towards the end  of Ditko’s run. You know when Stan was letting Steve plot stuff more and more…It’s almost like Bob is full of shit or something

Bob tries to claim by the time ITSV was being written the kinks in Miles’ character had been worked out in the comics. Nah fam. If anything they’d been exacerbated. In reality it was the ITSV writers who took the wonky early Miles character and worked out those kinks themselves, creating an overall superior rendition of the character. A viewpoint I am not alone in.

‘The Prowler has never been a particularly noteworthy villain in the comics’ That’s because he’s not  a villain. He was kind of a villain in his debut but he very quickly became an ally to Spidey

The panel then get into a very pretentious discussion about how ITSV preaches you arne’t stapled to your origin, you are not your trauma. That claiming that is pretentious ala Zack Snyder. But like…isn’t that the POINT of super hero origins? That they contextualize everything about the heroes thereafter? Isn’t carrying his trauma with everything they do practically the point of Batman and Spider-Man’s origins; you know the 2 most popular heroes? Uncle Ben’s death IS stapled to Spider-Man because it underlines everything he ever does. Shit it doesn’t even make sense when applied to Miles in ITSV. He does what he does because his Spider-Man died and then so did his uncle. There is even a whole scene in his dorm room where each Spider-Hero relays the grief that shaped their own lives. I’m not saying you need death and tragedy to be Spider-Man. But that’s neither a bad thing nor something that ISN’T applicable to Peter nor ITSV Miles. Aren’t these idiots supposed to be film buffs? How do you screw up such a basic reading like that?

One of the pundits claimed the movie preaches acting heroically in spite of your tragedies not because of them. Again though…that’ not Spider-Man. Peter is a hero specifically because his uncle died. Miles endeavours to become Spider-Man because his Peter died. His Uncle Aaron’s death further fuels him and allows him to make to final leap of faith. Yes, Peter B. continues to be a hero in spite of his failings but it is only his experiences with Miles that make that possible.

‘They don’t need the tragedies to be heroic they are already heroic in their own right. Look, I don’t disagree with that more broadly. Mayday Parker didn’t need tragedy to be a hero. But in terms of the specific characters in this movie? That’s clearly not true:

This whole ‘in spite of tragedy’ shit is so pre-Marvel DC comics it hurts. Heroes who just innately do the right thing because it is the right thing to do is a dated and archaic invention Spidey and the other Marvel heroes were reacting against.

‘Spider-Man Noir detracted from the film’s message of diversity because he was a brooding WHITE MAN who prowled the night to enact fist based justice!!!!’ Do I even need to say anything to that? First of all literally every hero in the movie enacts fist based justice. Why does Noir operating at night make him worse than Peter B? Why does him being male make that worse than Peni or Gwen? Why does him being white make that worse than Miles or Peni? And as for detracting from the message of diversity, shockingly diversity can be found within the same ethnic or gender group. You know white/male people aren’t a monolith and all that. Plus creatively you want PERSONALITY diversity more than anything else. In this movie in particular you want shorthand conceptual differences too. ‘Spider-Man but an anime mech girl’ ‘Spider-Man but a noir character’. ‘Spider-Man but a cartoon pig’. This is how asinine this disgusting modern day mentality is.

Wow…MovieBob defending Noir from the asinine comment. I’m genuinely surprised. Too bad he doesn’t use the most obvious defence of ‘that is obviously a ridiculous statement to make you moron’

The next topic of discussion was related to Marvel moving away from Gwen as Spider-Man’s dead girlfriend. I spoke a lot about Bob’s ice cold take on that in this post.

He claims they introduced Spider-Gwen because the idea would be taboo and thus would get people talking. HA! Spider-Gwen was done as just a general idea not something to spark controversy. It wouldn’t even BE controversial. Marvel brought back a version of Gwen within 2 years of her death. They brought her back again 15 years after her death. They brought her back again 22 years after her death along with other versions who melted because it was the Clone Saga. During and after all those times they had AUs of Gwen in What If, Age of Apocalypse, Spider-Man Loves Mary Jane and other such stuff. An explicitly AU of Gwen Stacy in 2014 was one of the most aggressively uncontroversial  things you could do.

Gwen’s ballet shoes differentiate her from every other Spider-Man ever. I mean yes in terms of being a dancer I suppose but in terms of being dedicated and studious, training hard and earning immense physical control? There have been plenty of versions of Spider-Man pre-2018 who are like that.

The only way you can make Spider-Gwen work going forward is by not tying it to her death in the canon? Boy…too God damn bad her debut and origin is entirely built upon that. Her origin in the comics and in the movies is built  upon a role reversal because it is Peter who dies to motivate her. Film audiences would’ve still grasped that role reversal because it was only 4 years ago Emma Stone’s highly popular rendition of the character died. And that was in the last pre-MCU Spider-Man movie to boot!

‘The only Iron Man story anyone cared about was Demon in a Bottle’ Actually they only cared about that story and Armor Wars. But yeah, the MCU version is lesser for neither having his alcoholism nor a crippling heart condition. The mere fact people became complacent about that doesn’t mean it wasn’t reductive.

‘These are fictional characters they need to grow and change with the times to remain popular’ Gwen Stacy sucked shit in the 1960s-1970s and was then killed off and defined by her death. Somehow she still  wound up becoming a fan favourite by the 90s and 21st century. Spider-Gwen sucks as a character but not in concept. I never had a problem with the concept. But the idea that she needed to exist to keep Gwen popular is bullshit because Gwen had somehow become immensely popular in spite of being a nothing character. And that even presumes anyone needed to perform maintenance on Gwen to keep her popular. No we didn’t. She was an irrelevant character beyond her death. It’s like saying we need to change Uncle Ben or Bruce’s parents to keep them popular.

Gwen’s affect on Peter Parker was important for awhile but we aren’t that society anymore. It’s not a fucking societal concern!  Putting aside how a 2014 movie did Gwen’s death just a few years before ITSV, Gwen’s death is about a universal human experience.  Death, grief, moving on. Oh, I see. This halfwit mistakenly believes Gwen is an example of women in the refrigerator.

Gwen died because Peter had this perfect lovely girlfriend and everything was too great for him and they didn’t know how to write beyond that. An oversimplification. Gwen died because they needed to shake things up for sales in general. Because Conway shipped Peter with MJ. And a 20 year old Spidey in 1973 really was too young to be killed off. Oh and you know she was written like shit. Yeah that’s the part no one ever talks about. Gwen is played up as this underserving victim of a character but she sucked shit.

It’s almost the 2020s! So fucking what? People still lose loved ones in the 2020s? I’m not even saying Spider-Gwen should have died in ITSV or revolved around her counterpart dying. I’m saying this dumbass is wrong for bringing it up as though killing Gwen off is dated on principle. But this is the same moron who unironically said ‘I never connected to Spider-Man because he is a teenaged white male wish fulfilment fantasy’. I’m sure she got top marks in her gender studies class

‘sOme PpL nEEd 2 gEt oVa iTTTTTTT’ I genuinely wish this person would wake up mute someday.

‘We could do a whole movie about Spider-Gwen’. I don’t respect where this opinion is coming from but I don’t necesarilly disag- ‘Get Seanen Maguire to write it’…nevermind. This gets even worse when you consider Maguire had only been writing Gwen for literally 3 issues at the time this podcast was released. Of the back of three issues  you are declaring this writer qualified to write an entire movie about the character? Not even Jason Latour who created her. I smell someone who just jumped on the bandwagon or worse is blinded by agenda and ideology.

‘Gwen could’ve done with 5 more minutes’ It’s not her movie!  It’s Miles’ movie and secondarily Peter B’s movie because he is Miles mentor. It is through their mutual relationship that Miles learns to be Spider-Man and Peter learns to be Spider-Man again.

It never made sense for an 80 year old woman to be raising a 16 year old boy! Aunt May in the 1960s wasn’t in her 80s. She just looked that way because, duh, standards of health were different back then. A 40 year old now looks much younger and in better health than someone who potentially might’ve been born in the 19th century circa 1962! A working class  woman no less…With chronic health problems! Even if she was in her mid-late 50s her looking like that was totally believable in context! And her raising Peter was also entirely believable depending upon how old Ben and May were when Richard and Mary were born. It’s not beyond possibility at all that there was 15-20 years separating Ben and his younger brother, meaning if Peter was born when Richard was 25, Ben and May would’ve been in their 40s. Thus by the time Peter was 15 they’d be in their 50s or 60s.

These idiots keep treating Peter from Miles’ universe as a bona fide version of 616 Peter when it’s blindingly obvious he’s supposed to be an idealized rendition of the character. A version intended to be a juxtaposition to the version we all know walking into the movie.

Peter B. Parker having a more traditional version of Aunt May as opposed to a more proactive and involved version has left him with a sense of giving up. Er…no. It’s pretty obvious Peter B. Parker is the Spider-Man we know and love who normally doesn’t give up but one string of failures after another has brought him to his lowest. But he rises back up again. Look Peter is supposed to be a representation of human beings. Human beings need people and need emotional support. When you lose those people and are alone you can go to a very dark place. That’s Peter B’s story. If Aunt May had been more involved but everything else went wrong (including her death) he’d have still wound up in the dark place he went to. Blonde Peter might’ve weathered May’s death better in theory but he had OTHER stuff in his life to keep him afloat. Peter B lost most everything. What horseshit it is to argue if Aunt May was different he’d have not given up.

There was no purpose for Aunt May being as old as she was or on the cusp of death in the original comics. Er…yeah there was. She was that old because it made her more vulnerable and thus accentuated the loss of her husband and the need for Peter to be her support network. It also internally justified why she was so frail and unwell. Old people usually have health problems. Duh! But then Bob admits there is a reason for those decisions. So he is contradicting himself.

Bob presumes Blonde Peter told Aunt May his secret even though there is no evidence in the movie to support that idea.

Kids today aren’t resentful of their grandparents like older generations were, that’s why Aunt May is played differently now. Um…Peter was never resentful of Aunt May in the first place. He sincerely loved her and felt he needed to pay her back for all she’d done for him.

‘Kids today have cool grandparents because 50% of them would have been hippies.’ Hippies aren’t cool. And never were. They were pretentious losers that hid behind causes as an excuse to do drugs and have lots of sex. Over half a century later the world they claimed to fight for and want to build has yet to materialise and in fact is in a lot of ways far worse off than it was before their generation rose to the seats of power. The hippy generation are part of the baby boomer generation that are so thoroughly mocked today. The people in power who’ve fucked up the job and housing market for consequent generations. These idiots literally spouted a dumbass theory earlier on about how first wave millenials have been thrown under the bus. Who do you think did that? The baby boomers, many of whom used  to be hippies! And NONE of this demands Aunt May has to be different. I have no problem with her being different in ITSV. But the idea of someone who used to be a hippy being doting? Being a worry wart? Why the Hell is that a dated concept?

These idiots clearly view the world aggressively through an identitarian and group weighted lens as opposed to how the world really is. I.e. 7 billion+ individuals

There was a weird amount of focus upon gangsters in the Spec Spidey cartoon considering it was for kids. Not really, the show was reverential of the original comics. The original comics (which were for children) had lots of gangsters

To the people who bitch and moan about getting another Spider-Man it doesn’t take away from the one you had before. No one was complaining about Miles as another Spider-Man in this movie. People weren’t claiming it ruins the Raimi movies or something. People resent it in the comics because it waters down the brand and makes Spider-Man himself less special when he is an ONGOING character. It’d be one thing maybe if the torch was passed from person to person. But nowadays it’s literally all of them co-existing.

Blah blah bah symbolism of a young black boy fighting a big WHITE business MAN. Blah blah blah this is the type of bad guy Miles would fight in real life blah blah blah…Jesus Christ… these people really just buy that type of Kool-aid in bulk don’t they? As if Miles, were he ‘real’ wouldn’t fight anyone who’s doing bad things. FFS they just got done talking about Tombstone from the Spec cartoon. Tombstone is an African American!  And he’s in this fucking movie. He’s not some weird fantastical guy, he’s a regular gangster who happens to be albino. That’s it. Miles fights him in this fucking movie! Miles first major adversary in the comics was the Prowler who was another African American. Miles wouldn’t JUST fight ‘evil white businessMEN’

‘As far as I know about Doc Ock from Superior Spider-Man, which is excellent’ Wow. So, as would be obvious with anyone with a working brain and some prior knowledge of Otto, Superior is garbage. And saying you are basing your assessments of Otto on Superior is like saying you have never known about the character

Doc Ock is in so many Spidey stories as a scientific assistant to other people because the Green Goblin is always either dead or completely untrustworthy. Bob really just said that huh? This is further proof Bob has read precious little Spider-Man material. Doc Ock is NOBODY’s assistant. Even in Secret Wars he had to be threatened into compliance by Doom himself when Ultron was his attack dog. Doc Ock isn’t recruited by other people for his genius, he is the mover and shaker. He recruits other people and is the man in charge. And who the fuck is looking to get the help of Norman Osborn because he’s a scientist? Not to mention Norman is untrustworthy, oh but Otto?????????? The guy who tried to nuke NYC???????? WTF is Bob talking about?

Since we are in the ‘age of heroes’ (whatever THAT means?) it is impossible for Spider-Man to not be mentored by some other hero. Er…yeah it is? This is obviously a defence of MCU Spider-Man and it holds no water. First of all DC and Marvel have had young heroes show up when there are a plethora of heroes around they’ve not had mentors. Second of all it’s entirely possible for Peter to not WANT a mentor and it’d be entirely believable that the other heroes might not see themselves as mentors or might mistrust him.

The Spider-Heroes take their grief and turn it into action. WHOA WHOA WHOA! Didn’t these guys say earlier that the movie preaches the heroes are more than their trauma? That they aren’t stapled to their origins? That they move on from it? What’s this change of tune all of a sudden?

Miles Dad was probably made into a cop to avoid having a difficult discussion about how the police would react to a black super hero or a black Spider-Man. Yeah, or it’s because you know…his Dad worked in law enforcement in the comics so you know…faithfulness. Also the police don’t discriminate against black heroes in the MCU except Luke Cage. Also, also not every fucking cop is racist. Also, also, also how would they know Miles is black his costume covers his whole body!

Miles Dad was super authoritarian. Dude. He didn’t like vigilantes and he followed basic rules like stopping not abusing police sirens. That’s hardly akin to being a jackbooted fascist.

Miles would’ve had a different relationship with authority and the police if his Dad hadn’t been a cop. Er…no not necessarily. First of all being the son of a cop doesn’t mean he’d have not experienced institutionalized racism from the police. Second of all even if he had experienced that he could still believe in justice and taking down obviously evil and dangerous people like Kingpin.

They never touched upon institutional racism from the police in Luke Cage which was for adults. Er, yes they did. The rapper in the later episodes of season 1 (the Bulletproof Love guy) stated he wasn’t going to call the police. The police were stopping and searching black men in their hunt for Cage. Black people wore shirts with holes in them in order to protect Cage and defy the cops. The rap mentioned how nobody was interested in protecting their neighbourhood.

Nobody wants the tell a superhero story about institutional racism within the authorities. Isn’t that literally Luke Cage’s origin? Didn’t Black Panther mention that earlier in the year ITSV was released.

I’m going to disagree that Miles fighting Kingpin was unnecessary because of the cultural connotations we talked about….God…You couldn’t just say ‘the main hero obviously has to defeat the main villain. Duh!’…

Dan Slott is a dang genius! As if you needed more proof these people are unqualified  to talk about Spider-Man…

Spider-Verse’s (the comic’s) fan service is what happens when you get Spider-Man fans to do the story vs. ITSV. Nah fam. ITSV is what happens when you get real fans who are talented  vs. Spider-Verse is what happens when you get a real fan who fundamentally misunderstands the characters and is a hack

There is no real Peter Parker. Who cares! The real Peter Parker is the original because he is the one everyone else is derivative of and therefore based upon. And fans AND creators and Marvel itself clearly care about that because they sure as fuck didn’t kill him  off so Miles could replace him. They killed off the secondary and surplus Ultimate Peter Parker. Treating the original version as the true  one doesn’t invalidate any other versions because they can still be great characters unto themselves. But given how disgustingly SJW this whole podcast has been I am unsurprised they go in for this participation trophy form of analysis where everything is equal all the time.

It also doesn’t invalidate the idea of Spider-Man being anyone. Spider-Man CAN be anyone. But not everyone can be Peter Parker. If we are going to say otherwise the praise these jackoffs lauded onto Miles for how his specific identity was explored is invalidated. Peter is Peter. Miles is Miles. They can both be Spider-Heroes worthy of the mantle.

Because Miles is a POC people who don’t look like Peter can believe they can be Spider-Man. I’m not arguing against Miles but seriously, that was the case before Miles existed. The showrunner of Spider-Man 1994 was an African American and he related to Peter Parker in the 1960s. Poc can relate to Spider-Man regardless of skin colour.

The original comic book version of Spider-Man isn’t the true one just because he is the original. Er….yeah. It seriously does precisely BECAUSE he is the version all the other ones are derivative of. Hence he’s from the PRIME universe. Shit the Spider-Verse comic book the movie takes mild inspiration from literally says that. Granted it then contradicts itself but the point still stands. Because he is the original one he IS the true one because without him the others would not exist. He is the canonical one!

The true 616 Spider-Man will never be in any adaptation because there is too much continuity…Yeah…so? How does that make him not  the original one in the broad context though when you compare every version?

Continuity is the killer of enjoyment when it comes to movies. No, this podcast is the killer of enjoyment. And btw, maybe ask all the people who went to see Infinity War earlier in the year ITSV was released and ask them if continuity ruined that movie for them. This is such a lazy, myopic attitude.

If continuity is used to exclude people it is bad. Good job nobody was ever saying ITSV shouldn’t exist because Miles isn’t Peter then

Infinity War is a fine movie even if you do not know who everybody is. No it isn’t. Infinity War is wholly inaccessible if you do not know who everyone is because it’s throwing dozens of characters at you with little-no context provided.

Black Panther is better than Infinity War, this proves continuity is bad. No. Black Panther not having to have it’s story wrapped up in everything else in the wider universe was what helped make it better. FFS, Winter Soldier is better than Avengers 2012 and that still relies upon plenty of continuity. Civil War is better than Thor the Dark World and the latter has way less continuity than the former. It’s not about having continuity it’s about how you use it. Black Panther was world building in it’s own corner. It wasn’t plugged in so directly to the wider universe the way Homecoming or FFH was. THAT’s what made it good but that’s not a continuity issue that’s a world building issue.

Continuity is toxic when you use it to claim a long running fantasy series didn’t satisfy you. Uh huh, hey do you wanna ask all the people who hated Game of Thrones’ final season that?

Oh, and one of the pundits, the one who bleeted on about Spidey as a ‘tEEnAgE WHITE mAle wish fUlLfiLmEnt fantasy!’ is a Hollywood actress. Now her views make waaaaaaaaaay too much sense

In conclusion…Sigh…For a podcast called School of Movies I think these guys need to go back to kindergarten.

[starstruckteacup]

Cottagecore Films (pt. 10)

Elizabeth (1998)

TW: blood, mild gore, torture

starring Cate Blanchett, Christopher Eccleston, Geoffrey Rush, Joseph Fiennes, Daniel Craig, Richard Attenborough

This dramatic retelling of the early years of Queen Elizabeth I’s reign over England opens at the death of Catholic Queen Mary in 1558, whose demise brings her half-sister Elizabeth to the forefront. Elizabeth must battle the unforgiving French abroad, dangerous conspirators at home, and at times even her own advisors as they push their agenda onto the young queen. As she grows in experience, Elizabeth learns to put her own needs before the mischief of the court and the confusion of unbalanced alliances, declares her undying love for her people, and establishes herself as one of England’s strongest rulers to date.

I really enjoyed the strength and grace carried by the entire film. Overall, the film maintained an air of dramatic tension, but never felt as though it strayed from the truth of Elizabeth’s story. I do think that, at times, the film felt perhaps too historical though, like a documentary. At moments of high stress, such as assassination attempts or uncovering the conspirators, the film felt a little too factual instead of emotional. It continued the same tone and level of emotion throughout, instead of raising it and lowering it with each scene. That said, Blanchett performed impeccably as Elizabeth, bearing the dignity of a monarch so fluidly you might think she truly was one. Every emotional response was executed so fully that it was as if the audience was given a real look into her life, rather than watching a mere biography. Even though many of the actors in this film are well-loved, I feel like the film could have done more with them at times. Eccleston played a manipulative villain who truly believed he had the best intentions for his country, but he was given far less screen time than he deserved. I would have loved a deeper insight into the complexity of this character, which Eccleston tried to deliver fully in every scene, but there simply wasn’t enough time with him. Similarly, Craig was on screen for mere moments at a time, with few to no lines, yet the audience was expected to fear him and worry for Elizabeth’s safety. Craig’s character was truly menacing, namely in the scene where he walks down the hall in the dark with his robes billowing, but we saw so little of him that he felt almost insignificant to the overall story. The film was over two hours, but with this cast I would have loved to see a limited series or something of that nature, just to provide more depth to the story. As a side note, I don’t know how historically accurate this film was, so I’m not going to comment extensively on that. If that was something you were looking for, you won’t find it here. 7/10

Pan’s Labyrinth (2006)

TW: blood, gore, fascism, war

starring Ivana Baquero, Maribel Verdú, Sergi López, Doug Jones, Ariadna Gil, Álex Angulo

Ofelia, a young girl caught between her love of fantasy and the horrors of fascism surrounding her, finds herself pulled into a mysterious world after she meets a Faun in a nearby haunting labyrinth. The Faun orders her to complete three tasks to prove that her soul is unchanged and that she remains the true princess of the Underworld. As she struggles to complete these tasks, Ofelia’s life is threatened on many occasions, both from the fantastical world of the Faun and the human world she’s forced to remain in. Horror and death strike as her home falls to the revolution, and they quickly catch up with her, even as she strives to protect the life of her newborn brother and understand who she is truly meant to be.

This was an absolutely fascinating film. The settings alone were absolutely haunting, from the camp to the woods to the labyrinth, but most especially the Pale Man’s table. The attention to detail at every point brought this story to life, and truly filled you with constant dread. The way the Captain carried himself, the pile of worn-down shoes in the corner, the pomegranate on the Pale Man’s table, the microexpressions on every character’s face, Ofelia’s green dress (reminiscent of Alice in Wonderland, especially within the context of the scene)... Every small detail contributed to the story, even when they aren’t actively moving the plot along. There was never a moment for the audience to feel relief or victory, even as Ofelia overcame trial after trial. I spent the entire film waiting for the next terrible thing to happen, but instead of being exhausting like other movies, this one has me thinking about it nonstop. I watched it the day before writing this, and I can only think of watching it again. I feel like it demands a second viewing to truly understand it, which is a marvelously rare feeling for me. The acting is also truly exceptional. Child actors tend to struggle with conveying complex emotion on screen, but Baquero conducted herself with the grace and skill of any experienced adult. She pulled at the childlike wonder in me, but still grounded my adult side with her gravity. Ofelia carried the burden of trauma, but never relinquished the belief in something more; Baquero conveyed that in a most excellent fashion. All of the actors were phenomenal, but Baquero outshone them. Also a brief aside: Jones was incredible as the Faun and the Pale Man. I’ve never felt so wildly uncomfortable or threatened as I did watching the Pale Man walk around. I hated it viscerally from an emotional standpoint, but from the film and acting perspectives, Jones created something mind-blowing. I definitely had to be mentally and emotionally prepared to watch this film, but it truly was a masterpiece. 10/10

The Garden of Words (2013)

starring Irino Miyu, Hanazawa Kana

Rainy days bring lonesome highschooler, Akizuki Takao, and struggling adult, Yukino Yukari, together at the Shinjuku Gyoen National Garden. Takao shares his dreams of becoming a shoemaker, but Yukari says very little about herself, instead focusing on supporting Takao’s goals. When the rainy season ends, the two don’t see each other for the rest of the summer. When school resumes, Takao accidentally learns a devastating truth about Yukari, but it doesn’t change the way he feels about her. His naive love, however, changes everything.

I greatly enjoyed the aesthetic of this film. It took place mostly in the beautiful gardens, with artistic emphasis on the water, trees, and plants that surround the character. It was truly beautiful to look at, and really serves to push the audience toward visiting the actual garden as well. The artists also focused in great detail on the small movements of the characters; each emotional change was reflected in their movements, which you don’t often see done so gently in any realm of animation. The whole film felt incredibly soft and touching, and truly brought to life the small moments that make living so special. Despite the artistic aspect being so beautifully done, I felt the story to be a bit lacking. While I enjoyed Takao’s story, and much of his process was befitting of a 15 year old boy, I felt that he could’ve been given more depth. Basically all of his potential for personality was crammed into the last five minutes, and what we got was beautiful. I definitely felt that the movie could have been longer than 45 minutes to accommodate this character expansion. The same can be said for Yukari. Her twist was monumental to the plot, but we didn’t get to see what the real impact of it was. She says throughout the film that she has to learn how to walk again, and we learn that she has some kind of physical disorder, but we never learn what that is and how it ties into her mental health, which seems to be addressed as an entirely separate point. We got several scenes of her alone, so even though Takao didn’t know much about her (which fit the story well), the audience certainly would have benefitted from learning more about her character, especially for the climactic end scene. Lastly, their relationship was kind of natural, if uncomfortable, at first--it makes sense for Takao, a young impressionable teenager, to fall in love with an older woman--but then it takes a turn for the hugely unhealthy--Yukari puts the burden of her own mental health on the shoulders of a boy--and this is implied to be okay. The film didn’t outright condone it, but it also didn’t condemn the potentially toxic dynamic. I wouldn’t say it was a pedophilic relationship by any means, but it was definitely unhealthy at its core; you could see hints of it over the course of the film, even though the story maintained its innocence. It’s definitely playing with fire though. 6/10

Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four // Part Five // Part Six // Part Seven // Part Eight // Part Nine

[jiminphiliacx]

It's gonna take me a minute, but I could get used to this. (DAENSA)

The Great hall was packed with people, men indulging in drunken boasting bashes and meaningless brawls, women deeply discussing the gossips of the week and the young maids huddled in a corner, pointing at young, green lads and giggling a little too often and too loudly for Sansa's tastes. She could feel them though, she had been one of them, the lifeline of the group, ogling at young dashing boys and sharing fantasies with girls of her age, it seemed like a million lifetimes ago but she could remember that time fondly, things had been easier then. Much easier.

Her blue eyes scanned the crowd with disinterest, sipping the wine slowly from the old jug, fighting the urge to gag and spit it out. It tasted similar to the one she had had at the wall , which also seemed like a thousand lifetimes ago, sitting by the hearth and sharing childhood stories with her brother. She was standing near a towering pillar which was secluded from the crowd and at the same time provided a perfect vantage point to see everything that was happening there. This is the kind of place Arya would have sought after for such huge occasions with noisy people Sansa thought fondly, her lips curving into a wry grin.

She scanned the table at the end of the hall near the fireplace, where her parents used to sit, which later Robb took over, followed by Bran and then herself and Jon. The other important lords from noble houses were seated there now, drinking and eating to their heart's content. At the other end of the table, seated in the chair closest to the fireplace was a woman, with her back facing the hall, her face hidden from her view. Her platinum blonde hair piled down, past her shoulders, her soft locks loosely braided unlike in their usual majestic fashion. Her shoulders were slouched and she was leaning towards the fireplace, like it was whispering something to her and she was listening keenly. Her body was still like a statue and the cup in her hand was filled to the brim with the piss they were all drinking.

Sansa took a huge sip and placed the jug on a random table before making her way towards the woman by the fire. She must feel lonely Sansa thought. Jon had gone south to make preparations for Dany's coronation and she knew it would take a few long weeks for everything to be in place for the occasion. Jon was the only person who had been hyped up about what lay ahead. Everyone's attention was on the white walkers, after which their attention turned south, to the hot seat of the mother of madness. After defeating her, thanks to the mother of dragons, that was all. Every threat that had come their way, they had thwarted.

This was their happily ever after. The white walkers were killed, thanks to Arya. Cersei was defeated and was executed publically after a final confrontation Sansa had had with Cersei. But it didn't feel like a celebration. There was nothing to celebrate. Noone to celebrate with.

Sansa stopped infront of Dany and hesitated for an instant before speaking. "Your Grace..?" No reaction. It was as thought she was invisible. She didn't even flinch, her eyes still fixated on the fire. Sansa waited for a few long seconds. "Dany..?" she called out, this time a bit louder, leaning closer to her. Dany pulled back with a slight jolt and turned towards Sansa. Her lilac eyes were hazy, her forehead gleaming with sweat. Her face was unusually pale and her attire was a bit loose fitting for her. She seems to have lost a few pounds Sansa thought as she smiled at Dany. "May I?" She asked, pulling up an empty chair beside Dany.

Dany took a second before smiling and nodding. It was as though she had been in a trance and her voice had snapped her out of it. Dany placed her glass on the table and straightened herself, smoothing out her attire. Sansa sat down and stared at her. The reflection of the flames from the fireplace seemed to dance on her face, her eyes gleaming like jewels amidst them. She noted that her cheeks were flushed red and so was the tip of her nose. Wait is she drunk? But her glass.. Sansa's eyes glanced at the untouched cup and then she noticed a few jugs by the fireplace near Dany's chair. Then it dawned on her, she had had one too many drinks. 4 full jugs.

"Dany..are you drunk?" Sansa asked anyways, seeking to strike a conversation with her. Dany's eyes fluttered rapidly and she gave a lop sided smile before nodding, like a mischievous child proudly admitting the mistake it had done, with a sense of accomplishment. Sansa sighed and clucked her tongue before pushing the filled glass away from Dany's reach. "Having too much fun I guess? I'm glad you're enjoying yourself" Sansa said chuckling. Dany didn't reply, her haunting violet eyes holding her gaze, her lips still curved into an amused smile.

Moments passed, and Dany didn't seem to be moving or averting her gaze. Sansa cleared her throat and adjusted herself, pushing her think auburn hair behind her ears, staring at the old, stained floor. "You're beautiful, Lady Stark..I bet I'm not the first to notice that". Sansa's breath hitched in her throat as her head sprung up to meet the other woman's gaze, her eyes wide. She opened her mouth but didn't know what to say. She was glad they were sitting by the fire, noone could tell she was blushing madly. What am I supposed to say? Thank you? She's just being nice..roll with it Sansa

"Thank you, Dany...that's a nice thing to say.." she finally said, regaining her composure. Sansa had observed Dany since the day she set foot in Winterfell. One look and even a beggar would know she was a queen. The way she carried herself, her posture, the authority in her voice, everything screamed royalty. And grace. But the woman sitting before Sansa was not the future queen of the seven kingdoms. She wasn't the mother of dragons. She seemed to be a young naive girl, one too many drinks inside her, her posture askew, her hair in disarray, her speech slurred. Everyone cannot be perfect all th time. Even the perfect Daenerys Targaryen.

"If only you loosened up a bit and were not so uptight all the time, like you had a stick up your bottom, you'd be more lovable" Dany uttered, her eyes all over Sansa. She didn't seem to care about the consequences of the words that came out of her mouth and what it meant. She seemed to be spilling the first thing that came to her mind. Thoughtless. Sansa didn't know how to reply to that, again flustered and helpless. And a tad bit taken aback. Me? Uptight? What was she saying? Sansa's mind went absolutely blank. Maybe SHE had had too many drinks too. Maybe she had been imagining things. There was no way her brother's girlfriend, her Queen would be talking to her like that.

Ironically, she grabbed the glass of drink she had put away earlier and gulped it down, all in one go. Maybe she was uptight, but could anyone blame her? She had to carry the burden of responsibilities and her family's future from a very young age and had gone through so much, and she had to be uptight and closed off to deal with the people, with monsters she had come across, not letting them see a petrified young Sansa behind the mask she wore, of Lady Stark.

Dany cooed as Sansa emptied the glass, smiling widely. "Now THAT'S more like it, Sansa. That's a step in the right direction." She said loudly. Sansa looked around cautiously, but everyone was took drunk to notice their intoxicated future Queen who was going to lead them into a better future. Dany pushed herself forward slowly and sat at the edge of the chair, placing her hand on Sansa's lap. Sansa flinched at her touch but never moved, maintaining eye contact with her.

"You know Sansa, your brother was uptight and rude when I first met him. Blabbered on about duty, honour and loyalty. Tsk tsk, so serious and boring" Dany said, rolling her eyes and trying to mimic her brother's monotonous voice and failing, miserably, which bought a smile to Sansa's lips. "And now, look at him. Off to plan a coronation for the future Queen. None of that brooding mysterious personality anymore..always looked like he was having a midlife crisis didnt he?" Dany said, frowning in disgust, pouting.Sansa couldn't help but agree, though, was she bad mouthing her own boyfriend? What was she getting at?

"If I could get someone like him to be a bit more relaxed and calm, I bet I could loosen you up too" she said, grinning from ear to ear, her eyes gleaming and the distance between them dangerously closing as ever second passed. Sansa could feel her heart thumping so hard against her chest, like a bird fluttering in a cage, fighting to break free. Was she suggesting...

It was beyond flirting at that point. It was a bare, direct invitation. It was Sansa's turn to stare and stay still, not able to recover from the shock. Say no. Walk away. Maybe she's joking. Laugh and take her hand off your lap. Her hand on my lap..so soft and warm..and so dangerously close..

But she didn't move. As every second passed, Dany's triumphant grin grew wider. She bent and took a huge jug, which was half filled, and emptied it's contents into her mouth, the drink dripping down her chiseled jaw, making it's way down her neck. Sansa's soft eyes followed the wet trail and she gulped. As Dany finished her drink, she stood up, stumbling for a second before she laughed and held the table for support. She pulled Sansa by the hand and started walking out of the Great hall.

The crowd in the vast hall did not seem to thin, the people jesting and drinking and puking, forgetting the time that passed, forgetting their duties and their responsibilities. Everyone was so preoccupied that noone noticed the Dragon Queen stumbling towards her chambers, with the lady of winterfell following her like an enchanted puppy, forgetting all honour and modesty. Winter might have passed, but someone else was definitely coming that night.

[happyvoidharmony]

Just a look.2

rating : M 

pairing : Miraxus (Mirajane/Laxus) 

found : fanfiction.net

Chapter : 2/7 (proof-read by @aconstellationofmemories)

Unfortunately for her, defeat was not something he was used to. If she wanted to play that game, then he would play with her and only God knew who had the most experience in this area.

The brunette stumbled before the white-haired woman, her shoulders shaking in long sobs and her cheeks soaked with tears between which she barely managed to articulate the word “sake” to the barmaid. The barmaid leaned toward her friend and gasped in surprise at the empty usually purple pupils of the card mage. Gently, she tried to lift her body, now unconscious and devastated by alcohol.

In a quick gesture, she managed to free one heavy arm and began to take the second out of the curly brown curtain. Unfortunately for her, it carried the full weight of the brunette because she barely managed to move it slightly.

“Need a hand?”

His deep voice startled her as the lightning dragon slayer’s piercing gaze met hers, appearing behind her as a gift from heaven to take over her impossible task, namely: moving her friend to the infirmary. The blond man grabbed the drunk woman by the nape of the neck and the hollow of her knees before lifting her up in one go and following the path indicated by the white-haired woman.

He put his drunk burden on one of the white beds and watched the barmaid cover her with white sheets and place a cloth soaked in clear water on her forehead. The barmaid looked up at him and stammered a brief thanks to which he replied with a simple nod.

“She’s in a bad state,” he said, disturbing the silence.

She nodded sadly. “She must have gotten drunk in a bar nearby and winded up here when she saw the light on.”

“Shouldn’t you have left already?” he asked her.

“I could ask you the same question.” She smiled amusedly at him.

The thunder Dragon Slayer mage had fallen silent. For a few minutes only, the brunette’s long groans disturbed the heavy silence. Not liking this dismal atmosphere he reengaged:

“Does that happen frequently to her?”

“Sometimes, but it’s becoming more and more common these days.”

The white-haired woman also fell silent. After all these evenings she had spent at the guild with Cana while she was empting up her drinks, she felt responsible for the brunette who, until recently, confided in her. But despite that, she was unable to know the reason for her friend’s too frequent drunken episodes.

A tear escaped from the barmaid and crashed onto her black dress. She wiped it furtively and looked up at the blonde who was staring at her insistently. In a dash, he got up and walked slowly towards the door.

“You coming?” he asked her. “We’re not going to stay here all night… or at least what’s left of it,” he said, glancing at the clock whose pointers were uniformly approaching the number twelve.

“I can’t leave…” she mumbled.

“I really doubt she needs you to sleep.” His sarcastic tone suddenly irritated her. Annoyed, she passed the door before him with a determined step and met his amused gaze.

He watched her striding away with a confident gait. She returned behind her bar and began to prepare some order. Her white hands fluttered among glasses and drinks with incredible speed. She washed, wiped and tidied up with natural ease while the young man sat at one of the stools and watched her.

There was no longer any trace of the sly smile she had managed to put on her angelic face earlier. Instead, she looked worried and uncomfortable.

"Can you get me something?” he asked.

“So now you’re planning to stay all night?” she questioned, cynical.

He looked at her and wore that smirk which he had thought was gone for far too long. “Am I bothering?” he replied with the same smile.

The white-haired woman smiled even more and put the ordered drink in front of him as an answer, then straightened up and cast an amused look in her eyes. "Not if you can make conversation,” she finally said.

The blond man sneered and glanced back towards the woman who was looking at him with eyes so transparent and opaque at the same time. Seeing that she was waiting for a reply, he sighed. “I wouldn’t count on it if I were you. Talking is not my best feature.”

“–oh yeah, I forgot you only knew how to communicate with fists.”

The lightning mage widened his eyes and inspected the white-haired woman whose eyes were staring at him with an insolent and playful attitude. Did she just openly call him a bully? She may not have been entirely wrong, but not to the point of completely denying his ability to exchange a few words with her. It was a pure, simple and far too direct provocation.

“Well, my hands surely help me communicate with women, but I really doubt this is the kind of conversation you’re expecting.“ He said each word by slowly detailing the body of the young woman who immediately blushed. She tried to answer but her words tangled in her mouth. She remained helplessly silent, standing still in front of one visibly very happy Laxus on his reply and the embarrassment he had still managed to bring about in her.

Suddenly, the little clock, whose ringing remained discreet during the day, rang twelve times, breaking the laden silence that had settled down. In the distance, they heard the repetitive coughing of the brunette who seemed to have a mad cough. The blond man turned his head towards the white-haired woman who made him understand the pointlessness of any action. After a minute that seemed like forever, the hiccups faded and the heavier silence re-established itself.

“She seems okay…” the demonic mage whispered, before launching towards her handbag to grab a small communication lacrima. “I’m going to call a taxi, take her to Fairy Hills before getting home quickly,” she said in an unusually rushed voice.

The young man frowned. "I don’t know if it’s very safe for a girl to take a cab alone at this hour, you don’t want me to come with you?” he suggested with an anxious half-smile.

And he was honest. He had heard horrific stories about rapes of young women who had taken taxis overnight and been found been overly pleasing with the driver. In addition, Mirajane was an attractive prey for people like that. She was beautiful, young, famous and surely already served as fantasy for a good part of the men in this country. That kind of man was easily capable of this sort of things if he saw her alone and exhausted from her work day.

The white-haired girl smiled sincerely and looked at the blond with kindness. It was rare for him to show thoughtfulness towards someone and she knew by his attitude that he acted without ulterior motives. He always managed to make her understand his meaning and not a sign of some sort of personal agenda floated in his golden gaze.

“It’s nice to ask, but I can handle this kind of situation and defend myself when necessary.”

Unfortunately, she already had to face it and only violence had helped with those men whose hands were a little too wandering for her taste and visibly attracted to the idea of payment in kind. She rarely used her powers in her daily life, which allowed her to have them available in the event of an assault, especially since always being alone at such times suited her to avoid being embarrassed when she refused a little too insistent “advances” with her claws.

The lightning mage looked at the young woman who seemed calm and confident. Surely she was right; she was more than able to protect herself. Besides, he was not going to force her to accept his presence when she clearly didn’t need it.

“However,” she said with a small grin, “I’m not going to turn down some help in order to carry her to the car. I’m going to call Erza to help me carry her to her room once there.”

The blond man nodded, but the idea still seemed absurd to him. “Isn’t it a little silly to wake her up in the middle of the night for that?”

“Men are not allowed to enter the building. Don’t count on me to break this rule and get shouted at in the morning.”

He laughed softly at her answer. It was true that this kind of regulation had been in place for a long time in the dormitory and he wasn’t surprised that the knight mage continued to implement it.

“Honestly, I don’t get the point of this rule,” he replied while the transformation mage ordered the said taxi.

“To avoid outbursts, I think. I don’t live there so I didn’t have the details,” she said between two of her calls. “I’ll ask her if you want.”

“I really hope she won’t say it’s there to preserve their virtue. Otherwise I’m renaming the place the Abbey of the Young Shy Virgins.”

The white-haired woman laughed heartily but concentrated again when the sleepy voice of the redhead answered her call. After informing her of the situation and fixing the details, she hung up and turned to the blond man with a long sigh of weariness interrupted by faint hiccups. He understood right away and followed her to help him move the brunette out of the white bed. He lifted her the same way as before and walked outside while the transformation mage collected her belongings and closed the huge wooden doors of the guild.

The taxi arrived after a few minutes of silence which seemed an eternity in the eyes of the lightning mage who was beginning to feel the weight on his arms. The young woman opened the back door, greeted the driver with her usual politeness and motioned for the mage to put his burden on the backseat while she indicated the destination. Then she turned to the mage and started with a strangely embarrassed look.

“Thanks for the help…” she trailed off. She fell silent, not knowing what to say next. “And thank you for keeping me company, time flies faster with someone,” she added with a dazzling smile. “See you tomorrow.”

“See ya,” he replied with his eternal sly smile.

He pivoted on his heels and started walking towards the city without glancing back. The white-haired woman remained a few seconds to watch the silhouette of his broad back as it gradually became distant before disappearing into the horizon. Then she remembered the presence of the taxi and got into the vehicle precipitately which started almost immediately towards the hill of the dorms.

When she arrived, her eyes immediately fell on the red-haired mage, with dark circles and disheveled hair, waiting for her. She asked the driver to wait for her, got out of the vehicle and smiled benevolently as she saw the tired face of her best friend.

"Sorry to bother you at this hour,” she began.

The redhead replied with a sleepy smile and helped the white-haired woman carry the brunette to her room, which of course was on the top floor. The climb was exhaustingly laborious with the two women feeling the full weight of the unconscious brunette. They had a few scares when her body almost fell to the stairs several times. But they came to the end of it and succeeded after twenty long minutes in putting the sleeping girl in the bed of her respective room which the redhead had opened with her double keys. They both collapsed against the wall, panting loudly.

“We did it,” the knight mage said.

“Finally…” the silver one exhaled.

“I don’t know how you manage to do it all by staying up so late,” the first woman said.

The second one glanced at her with a look full of questions.

“You work until I-don’t-know-what-time and then you bring her home all by yourself,” the redhead went on.

The white-haired woman blushed and replied, “I had a lot of things to put back in place since I was not there yesterday. Oh, and Laxus helped carry her to the taxi.”

The redhead seemed surprised by the last piece of information. “Laxus? The real one?”

The demon mage laughed and nodded. “He was hanging around and he must have been surprised when he saw the lights still on. Then Cana went in…”

“He helped you carry her?” the knight mage asked abruptly.

The demon mage laughed softly since she was finding this last question so absurd. He wasn’t a monster and wasn’t not going to watch her carry Cana with great difficulty while sipping his beer quietly without lifting a finger.

“Uh…yes, is that so surprising?” she asked in turn, her cheeks slightly pink.

Her friend shook her head, smiling and replied, “Just unusual.”

The white-haired woman nodded with a smile. A slight silence settled while the two mages were still panting.

“Besides…” the demon mage said, standing up, “he’s asking what the point of prohibiting boys to enter Fairy Hills is.”

The redhead widened her eyes and seemed to think for a little while. “I don’t really know. It was a rule that was in effect when the former owner was still alive and I just keep it,” she replied simply.

The white-haired woman smiled at this answer which was so much like her friend.

"But don’t count on me to delete it,” she continued in a much more serious tone.

The demon mage stared at her with a surprised look. She had never brought up the idea.

The knight mage added with her most solemn tone, “The rules are the rules.”

The woman almost choked on laughing, remembering so much of the conversation she had the day before with her younger sister. Erza had launched her sentence with such a serious and theatrical air that her reply seemed carefully written and repeated in advance.

“Of course,” she finished, still containing her laughter despite her huge smile.

Then she went down quickly, throwing a quick “good night” to her friend who stayed upstairs. She joined the vehicle that was still waiting for her and went home safely, despite the rather heavy remarks of the driver who kept telling her that he was at her entire disposal at all hours of the day and night. The young woman thanked him with a tense smile and finally returned home, after one of the most trying days of her life.

It had been a few weeks since that evening had passed. Life had gone on and Cana hadn’t recovered from her troubling emotions. Erza and Mirajane had tried to make her talk about her too many drunken occurrences these days but received nothing from the brunette. Cana tried to pretend that these were only isolated disappointments of her private life. So she continued, drinking and stumbling to the bar late at night. The white-haired mage had learned to manage these incidents.

The guild was as noisy and messy as ever. In barely two weeks, poor Makarov had received enough complaints to make a staircase that would allow him to descend through the window of his office. He was considering the idea in order to avoid those damn mailmen more and more these days. They always came back with more complaints.

Fortunately, the pile of complaints remained proportional to the jobs’ one. The board was abounding with jobs of all kinds, ranging from the annihilation of a clandestine guild to the delivery of important items - for their owners - through requests for monster hunting and gardening.

The white-haired woman had almost choked while hanging this particular request. It came from an elderly lady in the city who could no longer take care of her garden and who hoped “a few good souls to do it for her”. She seemed so exhausted from her trip to the guild that the transformation mage didn’t had the guts to tell her she could have just hired a gardener. Besides, the mission seemed perfect for Droy, she thought.

She hastened to prepare the last ordered drinks, including a beer which she placed just in front of the blond man who had been staring at her for a good minute.

“You look depressed,” he remarked, taking a first sip of the amber liquid.

The white-haired woman smiled and continued to prepare the orders while cleaning everything that could come in handy.

“Just thoughtful,” she replied with a sigh.

“About what?”

The transformation mage giggled and looked at the blond man with a raised eyebrow that he could recognize even among thousands.

“Oh, nothing. I just took a job in from a client who wants us to take care of her garden.”

She shook her head as she said those words and laughed, as the situation seemed absurd. If the garden in question had been huge and wild, she would have understood the waste of money. Instead of finding a professional with a cheaper wage, she chose to seek for help from the less trustworthy mages at Fairy Tail – the guild known for its incredible gift of tearing apart everything in its path.

The lightning mage sighed in despair. “I hope it’s a real jungle.”

The white girl shook her head, laughing. “Not really… If you ask me, the grass is not up to four inches.”

“Can’t she just hire a gardener?“ he went on, still falsely offended.

She nodded, smiling and going on with her activities. Then, when she saw that the blond was finishing his beer with his insulted attitude, she approached and took the empty glass with a mocking pout.

“I thought you’d be the first to jump on it. Is helping a poor old lady to take care of her green plants not worthy of your abilities?”

She almost exploded with laughter when he quickly turned his head to stare at her, insulted as if she had just damaged his honor and his bloodline’s. Her blue eyes stared into his golden ones. He was just longing for making this eternal little pest who never hesitated to directly attack his pride regret her every word. He recovered and decided, before her laughing eyes, to respond with more subtlety.

“If your grandmother is a model and in her twenties, then it can be negotiated.”

The white-haired woman blushed at his remark. As always, he must have had a knack for direct but very effective answers. He had once again managed to make her feel uncomfortable and he must have probably exulted internally to see her so embarrassed. She hated pretending to be the prude girl in front of him, but she couldn’t help but think that his description, however small, described her perfectly.

A doubt invaded her. Was his last remark directed at her or was it just some worthless words? After all, the 20-year-old models were a common fantasy, so he could have said this without thinking of talking about her personally. Her pulse had accelerated over her thoughts that she had to breathe for a few seconds to calm down. She turned to the lightning mage who looked at her with a sly smile, obviously very satisfied with the result.

A comment. It was just a simple, unimportant comment with no specific target. He just threw it in to annoy her because he knew she was receptive to it. No, it didn’t bother her. She was not a puritan like Erza and she could talk about sex with her friends - except her brother - without being embarrassed. At least as long as it didn’t concern her. But the blonde’s words could only be interpreted so much, and a part of her didn’t take long to assume so. Above all, he always took special care to accompany his words with long nonchalant glances on her body with his eternal grin.

Her cheeks instantly caught on fire. Was he hitting on her? Wasn’t his ambivalent behaviour of recent times as disinterested as she wanted to believe? She was used to heavy flirts, but from a guild member, from Laxus, with serious insinuations? It disturbed her way more. But how could she know if he was serious? He could just be enjoying embarrassing her. Or maybe he didn’t realize what was going on and he was just talking about sex with a friend.

Friend.

Had they ever been? As far as she could remember, their relationship had always balanced between hostility and a sort of rather knowing and completely indescribable rivalry. She was unable to describe the relationship she had with him. Friendship seemed like a pleasant, if hypocritical, alternative. They weren’t friends. Well, they were. In their way. But could we really call it friendship? Surely. They had known each other for a long time, appreciated each other - in their own way but still - and could spend time together discussing everything and nothing. They were friends and nothing else.

So why the looks he had on her did seem so interested? Why couldn’t she get this idea out of her head? The possible thought that he saw her differently. That he wanted more than this simple friendship that the white-haired woman insisted on offering him. She turned her head towards him and met his golden gaze, still as amused and attractive. His eyes quickly returned to their original place and a heat wave suddenly invaded her against her will. She breathed deeply and felt her cheeks overheat as she became aware of what was happening to her. She shook her head violently to get her thoughts back on track, although a bucket of cold water would have been more effective.

They were just friends, why was she reacting like that? Why did she feel like she was thirteen again? How did he manage to have so much hold on her without even wanting to? Was that what he was trying to do? Did he want to have fun watching her lose all her sanity with a few words? Was he trying to flirt that way?

But what was wrong with her? They were friends. Comrades. How could she just imagine that he had any interest in her? How could she imagine that he could be attracted to her? She was just the guild’s barmaid, or the little gothic scrappy girl to him. Nothing more, nothing less. She took a deep breath, resumed her biggest smile, and turned once more to reignite the conversation without him suspecting her troubles. Her grin faded and she froze.

He still looked at her, but completely differently. His smile and playful gaze had evaporated from his fine features. His strange eyes stared at her as if they could read right through her. His whole muscular body was leaning casually against the bar. He didn’t say anything, he didn’t make a move. She swallowed hard. He looked at her with such intensity that she was afraid of breaking into a thousand pieces at the slightest movement.

To just feel his breath slightly closer. To be able to run her thin fingers over his torso that she knew was perfectly sculpted and slide them gently through his wheat-blond hair. Feel his hands brush against her and violently caress her raw skin. Was she entitled to have such a desire towards a comrade? Wasn’t it necessary to avoid at all costs seeing more into him than a simple friend? Because of the fear of overly complicating their already complicated relationship? Could she let go of her desires that were beginning to burn her?

A throat clearing suddenly broke the tension. A young woman with purple hair stood opposite them, on the side of the bar, and was visibly trying to get noticed by the two mages. They turned their heads with the same gesture and looked at the intruder who seemed horribly embarrassed to interrupt. After a short moment of awkward silence which felt long enough, the violet-haired woman finally released the reason for her appearance.

“Mira, could you check the alcohol supply? I think we’re going to run out soon,” she said quickly.

The white-haired woman blinked for a few seconds of misunderstanding, but recovered as quickly as she could and offered her brightest, fake smile that she hadn’t given in years.

“Of course,” she replied.

She quickly went to the stock door and fled the scene, sinking at full speed into the depths of the guild’s basement. Her short breaths and rapid heartbeat made her tremble so much that she almost collapsed on the stone staircase. Her legs gave way next to a shelf full of all kinds of food as she collected the last clear ideas she had left. She. Had. Wanted. Laxus. She had felt the need to approach and touch him. He had looked at her. And that had been enough to ignite her. What was wrong with her? Should she blame herself or blame him? After all, he was the one who purposely disturbed her to put her in this state. No, she started it all by herself. But she would never have gotten there without help.

When she emerged from her thoughts, life seemed to have gone on regardless of her. Tables were flying, members were screaming and fighting relentlessly. Those who weren’t involved were watching the fierce battle as they happily wagered on the winner.

Her eyes flashed on all the faces present without finding a catch. She stared at each person avoiding a flying chair but without realizing that she hoped to trip over one in particular. Faded. Gone. Without any trace of his former presence. The young woman wanted him to understand her way of thinking. How dare he play with her that way? This first class idiot knew perfectly what he had said and what she had understood. What did he want to achieve with his stupidities? Make her go crazy and make fun over her when she tried to have a more intimate relationship with him? Like this time?

[lonelypond]

Teenage Mutant Ninja Idols

Love Live x Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, 3.9K, 1/2

This is entirely your fault, Tumblr ; ) 

Out skating one day, Yazawa Nico, Kousaka Honoka, Hoshizora Rin, and Sonoda Umi are accidentally exposed to a mutagenic gel, causing Umi's werewolf traits to be transmuted to the other three. A year later, they find themselves in trouble again as they meet four individuals who know a lot about mutations. And pizza.

Practice Interupted

The sheer shiny cliffs of buildings surrounded Sonoda Umi, the moon a cool silver slash in the sky, her ears alert for any sound. They were meeting here tonight, for meditation practice, now, when the influence of the moon was slim, controllable. Nothing about the three young women who Umi was expecting was controllable, so she had to settle for what she could.

“Hey, Nico, there’s a car! Watch it.” Kosaka Honoka’s voice shouted from the west and Umi turned in that direction.

“Nico Nico Ni!” There was the high, shrill call of Yazawa Nico’s battle cry and Umi could see in her mind the tiny, twin tailed tornado torque off the front of a car or slide under a truck or some severely dangerous manuever.

“Wait for me, Nico!” And there was Rin, about to catch up, speed past, and do something even stupider than Nico had done. Umi sighed. Her life was now inextricably linked with those three maniacs and the burden was on her, since she had burdened them with her curse.

A Year Ago

“C’mon Umi, this is boring. I told Nico and Rin I’d meet them at the skatepark.” Honoka whined, her t-shirt untucked from her board shorts, her hair shoved under a backwards snapback.

“You are going to flunk more than half of your midterms if you do not allocate several days for study.”

“Umi, I’m bored, I had to sit in class all day and now, Rin’s got a cool tricks she’s showing off that I need to learn.”

“What you need to learn is how to conjugate verbs in English.”

Honoka rolled her eyes, “Been there, bored that.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

Honoka bit into a pastry and then stuck her tongue out at Umi, before sending her board rolling ahead. “See you at the park.” And Honoka hopped on her board and sped away.

Umi snarled. She could feel her anger rising. She glanced up at the sky. Still late afternoon, not yet moonrise. Maybe she could talk some sense into Honoka. Umi centered her chi, did three deep breaths, and then took off at a steady jog for the skating bowl Rin, Nico, and Honoka preferred.

###

Yazawa Nico was all set. Tokyo Olympics coming up, skateboarding was a full fledged, medal event, and Yazawa Nico was on track to level up her skills to crack the competitive circuit. Add charm, cuteness, and an unparalleled knowledge of the skate scene and Nico was about to make a HUGE splash, launching her own clothing line next month. Honoka’s best friend, Kotori had helped out and the custom shirts and bandanas were going to be seen in TWIG skating videos worldwide.

“Hey, Nico.” Rin hissed in her ear, sliding next to where Nico was sitting on the lip of the bowl.

“Yo?”

“That girl” RIn pointed to a tall redhead in jeans and a tight gray polo shirt, “keeps taking pictures of you. I think she’s in my grade.”

Nico leaned back and yes, there was a redhead with an actual camera, not just a phone, circling the skate park, pausing to kneel or lie down or prop herself at an odd angle to snap a shot. She saw Nico looking and startled, nearly dropping her camera.

“Hot.” Nico thought, then smiled, “Hey, if you want Nico to pose for you just say so.” Nico bounced up, dropped her board, and rocked an ollie into a nosegind, to pop up in front of the girl.

“I...I’m...you’re just here and I...have…” the girl seemed to be choking on air and waved her camera in Nico’s direction instead of finishing her sentence. Long eyelashes blinked over shimmering lavender pools.

Nico kicked her board up, flexing as she caught the nose, glad she’d worn a tank top. Sweaty though. But she’d pulled off a sweet move.

“What’s your TWIG? Tag Nico when you post your snaps. @NicoNollie.” Nico stepped forward and the taller girl tried to step back, but nearly fell over a huuba ledge. Nico reached out her arm and pulled the girl in close. She smelled like flowers. Nico stared into wide, surprised eyes, and then felt herself falling back when the girl shoved her.

“Hey!” Nico screamed as she dropped her board and rolled down the bowl slope, scraping her elbow.

“I didn’t ask you to touch me.” The girl pouted.

“Maki!” Rin yelled suddenly. “Nishikino Maki. We have study hall together. You say hi to Kayo-chin sometimes.”

The girl turned, eyes narrowed, “I don’t know you.”

“But you know my best friend, Kayo-chin? She’s in all your smart classes. Glasses, cute, super super smart.”

“Koizumi?”

Rin nodded as Nico pulled herself back up to ground level, glaring at her assailant, while she wiped her elbow, “Where’s the first aid kit?”

Rin shrugged, “So you skate, Maki?”

“No.”

“Want to skate? We can teach you.” Rin offered as Nico sat with her legs hanging down, wincing as she put an alcohol rub she'd found in her pocket on the scrape.

“No.” Maki opened her camera bag, settling her Fuji inside.

“So why are you taking pictures of Nico and then injuring Nico when she saves you from falling?” Nico awkwardly placed a cute bunny bandaid over her wound.

Maki glanced away, crossing her arms, one hand reaching up to play with her hair, “Had to take sports pictures for class.”

“And skateboarding is the best sport.” Nico’s voice boomed with approval.

Maki shrugged, “I like that girls and guys skate the same. And I didn't have enough time to hit the surfing spots.”

“Nico surfs.” Nico announced.

Rin glanced down, puzzled, “Since wh…”

Nico’s elbow connected at bruising speed with Rin’s shin.

“Nico?!??!!”

“Just shut it, Rin.” Nico stood up, stepping up to Maki, “So did when you post the snaps of Nico’s favorite tricks, you’ll tag Nico.” There was a pause as Nico levelled a serious glare at the photographer, “Right?”

Maki shrugged, turning away from Nico. Nico’s hand shot out, grabbed Maki’s shoulder and spun the other girl back to face her, “Right?”

Maki tensed, ready to open her mouth for a rant when a crouching body on a board zoomed between them.

“Save me, Nico. I’m not fast enough.”

“Honoka, what the hell…”

“She’s after me, Nico. She’s going to ruin everything!” Honoka 180'ed and hopped off next to Nico.

“What’s happening?” Maki asked, wondering if she should just leave.

“Her’ Nico grabbed Honoka by the back of the shirt, “ninja bff is about to drag her off to study.”

“You have to save me Nico!”

“Nico has her own problems.”

“Honoka.” Umi’s voice, though calm, carried. And then a siren blared, startling all the girls clustered around the skate bowl.

“You can’t make me study.” Honoka shouted.

“Let Honoka go, Nico.” Umi slowed, hands on hips, glaring at Honoka.

“Gladly.” Nico dropped Honoka, brushing her hands together.

“This happens all the time, Maki.” Maki was surprised to find Rin suddenly next to her, chatting as if they talked every day.

“I don’t really see how it affects me.”

“Nico never studies either. But then her Mom gets on her. Nico’s got it tough. Her dad died and she’s the big sis.”

“I don’t really care.” Maki was fascinated by the energetic gestures Nico was throwing around as she mediated between the other two girls.

“Anyway, Nico’s the best and I bet you got cool photos.” Rin gleamed, “Can’t wait to see them.”

“I don’t even know you." Maki rolled her eyes at her conversation partner.

Rin had a bright idea, “Hey, sit with us at lunch. Kayo-chin would love that. Aren’t you usually by yourself?”

Maki frowned, it sounded like she had no friends, but she just liked to play games on her phone without interruption and this Rin seemed to be all interruptions. “I’m fine. It’s not…”

And before Maki could finish her sentence or Umi could strangle Honoka, an out of control motorcycle with a glowing canister strapped to the back vroomed toward them. Nico leapt for Maki and Rin, an arm around each of them, pulling them down in the bowl. As the bleeding driver fell off  and the cycle forced Umi and Honoka to roll after Nico, the canister broke free, spilling a viscous gel across everyone but Maki, who watched in horror from where Nico had pushed her as the other girls thashed and screamed.

BACK TO NOW

Umi frowned. This was worse than she expected. Nico’s head was cocked at the angle for ultimate sassiness, her fur ears forward, alert, and smug. Ruby eyes flickered between dare and amusement. Nishikino Maki, who had not been invited to tonight’s session, was sitting on the edge of the roof, doing a terrible job of hiding her amusement at Umi looming over a smug Nico.

“This is not a date night, Yazawa."

“We’re not dating.” Nico and Maki echoed. Rin giggled, her ginger tail swaying.

Umi rolled her eyes, “You need to get serious about your training, Nico. You remember what happened last month?”

Nico’s confidence dented slightly, “No one was hurt.”

Honoka was perched next to Maki, glad Umi was lecturing someone else tonight, “I don’t know, Nico. A lot of people might have wanted to eat ice cream and you wiped out the whole freezer section.” Honoka’s grin showed her full set of fangs.

Umi sighed and addressed herself to Maki, who was usually responsible, “Did Nico drag you here?”

“Mrs. Yazawa came home early so I didn’t have to watch Nico’s brothers and sisters. So I was bored.” Maki shrugged.

“Maki needs to learn self control anyway, so she doesn’t yell at cute little Nico so often.” Nico winked.

“Maybe if cute little Nico didn’t stalk every girl who said something about how cute her ears are, I wouldn’t have to. You’re supposed to be discrete.”

“I have to agree with M…” Umi started.

“People think it’s cosplay, Nico’s gimmick, super duper cute.” Nico raised her hands to her temple, “Nico Nico Ni, Nico wins EVERY popularity contest.”

“Not mine.” Maki muttered.

“It is supercute. If we had to catch something from Umi,” Rin said as she grabbed at her bobbing tail, “I’m glad it was furriness.”

“You didn’t ‘catch’ furriness, Rin.” Maki stated. “Exposure to the mutagen caused your dna to alter, influenced by Umi’s lycanthropy.”

“Well, I like my tail.” Rin slapped the back of Maki’s head with it as Maki snarled.

“Too bad you didn’t get anything cute.” Rin teased.

Umi sighed. This session had gotten out of control even faster than usual. Her exposure to the mutagen had caused her hair to grow all the way down her back, her wolf ears present every day, not just during the days around the full moon. And the full array of animal senses Umi could never turn off, so she could sense so much more than anyone was willing to confess. Even if Nico and Maki refused to admit they were dating, their scent profiles and pheremones screamed it loud enough that Umi wanted them living several states apart. And Umi could feel her own attraction to Honoka, as well as the need to wrestle with the fact that Honoka had yet to mature fully. Rin also remained in a state of innocence, friendly to everyone, and very attached to Koizumi, but not yet ready for...Umi couldn’t even think the words in her mind...adult things. Eager for a distraction, she focused on Nico, who was watching Maki shove Rin away from her. Nico watching Maki was one of her few calm states so Umi hated to break the mood, but maybe they could transition to meditation. Or at least a few breathing exercises.

“Everybody on their feet. We’re going to start with warmups.” Not too much grumbling as the three settled into their starting pose. Umi nodded at Maki, “If you’re here, you work out with us, Maki.”

Maki considered, but instead of making a show of protest, joined Nico where she was standing behind Rin and Honoka. Nico suddenly became much more focused on her positioning, her posture improving almost immediately. Maybe Maki being here would be a boon.

Something metallic zinged by Umi’s ear. She whirled, reaching for a weapon she didn’t have. Nico’s voice screeched behind her, “MAKI!”

Umi was too busy searching for the threat to look behind her, but from the sounds, she guessed the dart had hit Maki, who had fallen, to be caught by Nico’s quick reflexes. So Nico was busy. Umi inhaled. 10 warriors, encircling the roof. “Rin, grab my bag. Honoka, to me. Nico…”

“Got her.” Nico said before Umi could finish.

Rin tossed weapons to everyone and Umi started the mental meditation that would allow her wolf side to take over completely. It had become so much easier since the accident to slip into the body that only the full moon used to summon. Nico would transform when she was angry, so Umi was teaching her restraint, and with Rin and Honoka, it seemed to be a random thing, more of a joy than a burden. But since as young as she could remember, Umi’s training at the Sonoda Dojo had been about controlling her animal side, so the others just opening freely to the change was a puzzle.

Umi readied her stance, gripped her no-dachi in her thumbed paws, and parried the first blow. Figures in black rushed her, trying to surge around her. Rin was at her right, with a katana, Honoka a little further to left so her naginta could use its full range. They were the wall protecting Maki.

And then out of the sky came commentary. “Hey, look, Leo, creepy ninjas vs. samurai furries. Are we in a video game?”

A more commanding voice stage whispered, “Quiet.”

And then a deeper, rolling grumble, “Yeah, Mikey, you’re blowing our surprise attack”

“Nah, these guys are even stupider than…”

“You?” the grumble hissed as three green blocky figures dropped in front of Umi, ninja weapons flashing as they pushed the attackers back.

“Hey, they’re girl samurai.” One of the newcomers stopped to stare long enough that Umi saw a simple, cloth, orange mask and a turtle shell. “Cool.”

“Umi.” Nico sounded panicked. “Maki’s not responding to me at all.”

A slash of the no dachi lamed an opponent and Umi stepped back to let Rin, Honoka, and two of the newcomers cover her as she fell back to Nico’s position.

“Is she breathing?”

“Barely.” Nico grimaced as she showed Umi a dart, “Poison?”

Umi sniffed, shaking her head, “Sedative. Might be too high a dose.”

Nico was blinking at a hyper sonic rate, to keep any tears from leaking out, “We’ve got to get her off the roof.”

“Can you and Rin carry her?”

Nico nodded.

“Rin. Help Nico.” Umi ordered.

Rin was there before Umi finished her sentence, raising Maki off the ground. And then ten more ninjas dropped in.

Nico, with a burst of adrenaline, bent down to swing Maki over her shoulder while Rin moved to intercept the first attacker. And then one of the turtles cartwheeled past Umi, grabbing Maki from Nico, and heading to the roof’s edge, the ninjas encircling them.

“Hey!” Nico shouted, pulling out her twin swords, cutting her way into the scrum.

A sudden flurry of arrows and shuriken flew toward them and then, with majestic poise, this turtle, head wrapped in a tattered red mask, froze, a surprised look on its face, and toppled forward. Before Nico could reach Maki, the creepy ninja scrum had grabbed Maki and gone over the roof. Nico watched them pull away in a van, and then collapsed on the roof edge, arms out, head hanging down, whispering “Maki.”

“Don’t worry, I put a tracker on their van.” A three fingered green hand grabbed the roof edge next to Nico, and a turtle face wearing a purple mask turned to smile at Nico. “I’m Donatello. Call me Donnie. These are my brothers. Why’d the Foot Clan kidnap your girlfriend?”

Nico lifted her head just barely enough to glare at the green face six inches from her nose, “Ask the Foot Clan.”

Donnie, jumped up on the roof, and pulled a pad out, with a green blip moving away from them. Nico grabbed it, “Umi, we have to follow them. Now.”

Umi was parrying three swords so Nico’s demand went unanswered. With a massive effort, Umi threw her opponents back, howled, and bashed each of them with the hilt, knocking them unconscious. Rin and Honoka had the rest tied up, with the help of the two conscious Turtles. Nico shoved the one who’d grabbed Maki with her foot as she pulled the dart from its shoulder, “They got this one with a dart too. Can we go rescue Maki now?”

“Hey, Leo, let’s take the Shellraiser.” the orange masked Turtle said as he put his weapons away.

“What’s a Shellraiser?” Rin and Honoka asked in unison and the Turtle waved them to the street side of the roof and pointed down at a subway car converted into some kind of travelling siege engine.

“Whoa!” Honoka

“Can I drive?”’ Rin bounced with excitement.

“No.” Nico had a grappling hook out and was about to drop off the roof. “Shotgun speeding.”

“Excuse me.” The blue masked Turtle held out its palm, in a stop gesture, “I’m the only driver. And we can rescue your friend.”

“Who even are you?” Nico glared, grappling hook ready to bash.

“Leonardo. Leo. These are my brothers, Donatello, Michelangelo, and Raphael.”

“Sleeping Beauty.” The orange masked one snorted.

“The unemployable comedian is Mikey.” Donnie explained.

“Nico doesn’t care if you’re Ms. Zoo America. They took Maki.”

“Do you know why?” Leo asked.

“DO I CARE WHY?” Nico was screaming, her arms flailing as the grappling hook got closer to landing a secure grip in Leo's nostril. Then she pivoted, “Umi. Help Nico.”

“We are very pleased to meet fellow guardians of goodwill, but our friend’s situation appears to be urgent. So we have no time for non productive chatter.”

Nico checked the pad, her voice hitting a panicky high note. “They stopped. Which means whatever weird thing they’re going to do to Maki is about to start.” Nico paled, her ears slumping.

Umi stepped up to Leonardo, her hand out, “I will be commandeering your vehicle now.”

Nico was furled up, a low growl drawing the attention of the Turtles. They watched as she transformed, increasing in size until she became the size of a large bear, black fur covering her completely.

Mikey pushed Leonardo, “Leo’s the only one who gets to drive the Shellraiser, It’s a rule.”

"Shellraiser?" Raph sat up, rubbing his forehead. "We're saving the girl." Donnie whispered.

"Of course, I am." Raph pushed himself to his feet.

Nico ran to the edge of the roof and jumped off, metal groaning as she landed solidly on the roof of the shellraiser. Donatello glanced back at Leo, “I guess I’ll be reinforcing that. Hey, wait, she’s trying to claw her way in.”

Mikey grabbed the pad Nico had dropped, “Van’s on the move again.”

“Hey, did they drop off Maki?” Honoka asked.

Rin, slumped, suddenly terrified for her bff.

“I’m going down there before she wrecks my custom mods,” Raph said and vaulted down to the car.

Leo frowned, “That’s a multi car crash waiting to happen.”

“Agreed.” Umi sheathed her sword at her back. “We may need your help. If we have to check out the building and follow the van.”

“And save the werewolf’s girlfriend.” Mikey grinned.

There was an angry howl.

“What did she say?” Donatello wondered.

“A lie.” Rin stood, ginger fur covering her as she did, but retaining her bipedal status. She sprinted, leapt into the air, and landed like a cat on the hood. Nico huffed.

“Nico thinks we don’t know they’re dating.” Honoka said.

“Ha! Like nobody knows April dating me.”

“That’s not what’s happening, Donnie.” Mikey was standing on the roof edge, watching the scene below, and he winced as a large noise happened. “Oh wow. The furball just crushed a dumpster with Raph.”

Leo was tumbling toward the ground, Donatello following, using his staff to vault, Umi paused briefly to calculate the arc and speed of the leap necessary to land her near Nico. Honoka was standing next to Mikey, throwing air punches in support of Nico’s attempts to rip through the Shellraiser’s roof.

Leo pulled out the keys, jumped into the vehicle, and started the ignition. Nico howled. Umi landed lightly on the hood and strode toward the window. Leo wondered briefly if she was going to kick her way through the windshield, but then remembered she wasn’t Raph or Mikey.

“Nico.” Umi snapped. “Get inside.”

Nico snarled, claws crunching dents into the metal of the roof.

“This is boss.” Honoka said as she and Rin jumped into the Shellraiser right after Mikey, Donnie, and Raph.

“Fine, stay on the roof." Umi closed the side door behind her. “Drive.”

###

Nishikino Maki woke up, headachey, sore, groggy, shoulder throbbing. Where was Nico? The last thing she’d heard was Nico calling her name. She could smell cedarr incense and wood and nothing familiar. Opening her eyes slightly, she took in details of the room. Antique Japanese screens, incense burners on low tables, floor to ceiling glass facing the night cityscape. She could hear several voices, but no actual words. She tugged at her hands. Tied. Ankles too. Not gagged, but she wouldn’t want to be drawing attention to herself until she had a plan. She closed her eyes again and concentrated. Fingers on her right hand altered, paw and claws replacing fingers. Claws were much much better for slashing through rope. As often as she’d cursed Rin’s clumsiness in accidentally biting her and then bounding off during Rin’s first full moon transformation, the time Maki'd been putting in working through the mental exercises Nico always ranted about was going to pay off now. Perhaps she could slip out of here before she was discovered or needed to use her wolf abilities in a fight. She’d done so well at keeping them a secret, even from Nico, who had wondered occasionally about different scent mixes coming from Maki, but when Maki said, “it’s because I’m in love,’ Nico had blushed, fake grumped, and never mentioned it again. Nico hadn’t replied that she was in love too, but there had been a few extra hip bumps when they walked home. Right now, Maki was content to wait. She got to spend most of her extra time with Nico, and occasionally catch the smoldering glow in Nico’s beautiful carmine eyes when she thought Maki was preoccupied with something else. Maki knew Nico thought she wasn’t smart or rich or…something enough for Maki, but Maki was going to patiently nudge Nico until her fiercely talented future wife got tired of underestimating herself. Or couldn’t resist Maki’s charms anymore. Grinning as she freed her wrists, Maki carefully moved her bared claws to free her ankles. Still the low rumble of conversation. Too many people to take on without backup, but maybe if she could manage to sneak…

And then the windows shattered. Maki recognized the growl and her instincts took over, inner wolf becoming fully outer wolf to rush to Nico’s side.

A/N: This is entirely the fault of the anonymous Tumblr ask who said "all of them are werewolves."Truth to tell, I have had a really really busy stressful month that included the death of my wife's father, along with all the lives lost to Covid-19 and American's evil beating heart pumping systemic racism. And I'd bought a TMNT mask for wearing in public spaces, so I was in a Turtle mood, and started watching the animated series and here we are. I was going for episode pacing, so this initial effort is a two parter. I also feel like my writing has been wrenched out of the zone by everything and I really really just want to finish something cute and fun and kickass.Take care. I appreciate all of you who've read and/or commented and/or written and/or kudoed to keep this Love Live corner of the universe lively.

[unsuccesscr]

here it is , the All Might death fic, roughly 4k words of pain ft; Izuku being a mess, Melissa deserving the world, and Bakugo starting a fistfight (for the greater good)

warning; major character death. no gore or graphic depictions but a lot about the grieving process.

blame @eighthilles

“Sir? Sir, you can’t go back there--” A nurse pleads after Izuku as he follows the stretcher through the expansive hallways of the hospital. Towards one of their surgical rooms. He can’t quite see, over the seeming ocean of hospital staff. Doctors and nurses dressed in crisp, clean clothing, and masks on their faces.

A bit of blond hair, one hazy, blue eye, the tips of bony fingers. And then someone’s holding him back as their wheeling the only father he’s ever known beyond huge, unyielding, double doors.

“No, no,” He protests, plaintively, but not truly putting up enough of a fight to potentially hurt the one restraining him. “I have to see him, I have to…”

I have so much I need to say. 

I’m sorry

Thank you

I love you

Please don’t go

Seeming to sense his escalation in panic, the nurse gently guides him back to the waiting area. For some reason the touch is calming, and he can feel his adrenaline draining away slowly. A result of her quirk, in all likelihood, but even calmed he’s in no state to analyze it properly.

“I understand how you feel,” The woman attempts to soothe “But the sooner Mr. Yagi gets into surgery, the better his chances are.”

“Chances?” Izuku parrots, unintelligently, throat closing. “He’s going to be fine, right? He’s going to be ok?”

The nurse looks at him sadly, but doesn’t say yes. Instead she hands him a clipboard, asks him to fill it out; and tells him that she will let him know when they know something.

Izuku takes the forms and nods numbly. Spends a long time staring at the page without really seeing the question. Pen in hand and pressed against the paper but not writing a word. 

How many of these questions can he actually answer? He doesn’t know any of this. Not Medical History or Family History or Medications. Even at their closest the retired pro had a habit of hiding his ailments in a ridiculous attempt to not become a ‘burden’ like he could ever be that after everything he’d done for Izuku, for the world.

The young hero begins to fill out what little information he does know. Name, age, occupation. Details the injury that All Might received from All For One nearly two decades prior. Tries not to think about how he’s the least qualified person in the world to be doing this. 

And yet, somehow, he’d been All Might’s emergency contact.

He’d almost ignored the incoming call from an unknown number, deeply entrenched in getting the paperwork for the still fledgling agency sorted. No sidekicks meant that each hero had to pull their weight with police reports, incident reports, press releases. Not to mention the reassignment applications, recommendation letters, and other legal documents pertaining to the people who entered their doors looking for help. It added up, quickly, and it needed to be done.

That, in the end, was why he’d ended up relenting and answering his insistently ringing cell phone. After all, it could be an emergency. 

It was an emergency.

“...ku?” 

Izuku’s head snapped to attention at the sound of someone speaking directly to him, looking up at what he assumed was another doctor. Dressed in a white coat over formal attire. The older man looked familiar, somehow, but he couldn’t exactly place it. But he was smiling at Izuku with a nervous warmth.

“Deku,” the doctor starts again, and the hero’s name causes some heads to turn. Izuku isn’t shocked he wasn’t recognized earlier, he rarely is; out of costume. He didn’t have the remarkable stature of some of his colleagues and he wasn’t exactly exuding his normal levels of confidence.

“You saved my family, three years ago,” he prompts, as if sensing that Izuku has no recollection. Ah, now he remembers. This man and two young girls trapped beneath a collapsed building, fires from a barely over villain fight still raging. Of course, there were plenty of other heroes on the scene as well, all performing similar rescues. It wasn’t exactly an extraordinary achievement. 

“I’m glad everyone was ok,” Izuku says, somewhat mechanically, still unable to quite function under the circumstances. “My fa...All Migh...Yagi Toshinori, do you know what happened? Will he be ok?”

The doctor’s expression shifts, closely mirroring the look of pained empathy the nurse had given Izuku before.

“Mr. Yagi suffered from acute heart failure, seemingly caused by stress. A neighbor found him outside his apartment and made the call to have him brought in. His condition is very unstable, and we won’t know until we’ve cleared the blockage if there’s been any permanent damage…”

Somewhere along the way Izuku stops listening to the explanation. Alone, he’d been all alone. Did he see? Did he hear? Did he know Izuku was here, before they took him away? Even if he didn’t….he had to know he was loved, right?

“...let you know when I know more,” The doctor concludes and Izuku nods to indicate he’d heard at least that much.

______________________

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” The doctor says, not even an hour later. And he does, truly, seem sincere. But Izuku cannot comprehend it. Dead. All Might was…

Gone.

It didn’t make any sense. Of course no one is immortal, of course All Might had that old injury to contend with. But he was always ok. Even after his retirement, he was always ok. Until he wasn’t.

The doctor is explaining, now, what went wrong during surgery. How they’d lost him on the table. How he was under anesthetic at the time, asleep. Hadn’t felt a thing.

Good, that’s good. He deserved to go peaceful.

Izuku abruptly stands up, hands the doctor the partially filled out forms, and fishes out his phone.

“Calls,” He mumbles to himself in a tone of voice so robotic even he doesn’t recognize himself. “I need to...call people. Let them know. Make arrangements.”

The doctor seems puzzled by his reaction, but gives him his space as he paces their waiting room making call after call.

“Mom? It’s Izuku,”

“Melissa? This is Midoriya Izuku,”

“Lemillion? It’s Deku,”

Over and over, repeating the news. Apologizing. Listening to the immediate, intense, feelings of grief and wondering what is wrong with him to just feel...hollow.

“Hello? Iida, it’s me, I’m at the hospital and…”

_______________________

The calls continue, well into the night and now into the next day. Izuku’s in his office once more, dressed in the same clothes as the day prior. Looking disheveled and focused. A ghost of his high-school years. 

The other heroes working at the agency move around him nervously. Looking at him, then whispering to each other. He ignores it, there’s too much to do. The funeral service, friends and family. Then, of course, the public memorial. There’s the matter of what to do with possessions in All Might’s now vacant apartment, plus his remaining assets.

He’s muttering to himself now he’s aware, because more heads are turning towards him. More concerned expressions.

“Dekukun,” It’s Uraraka who seems to be feeling brave, approaching the manic hero directly “You should go home and rest, you look like you haven’t slept at all,”

“I can’t, I have to stay. I have to get things ready. The casket and flowers and...shit, I almost forgot, Katsuki and Melissa are stateside, I’ll have to book a flight--” He reaches for the phone but Uraraka puts her hand over that.

“We’ll handle that,” She says with a look that says even more pointedly that this isn’t up for debate. “That’s the point isn’t it? For us all to work as equals,”

And she’s right. That is the point of the agency. But this isn’t agency work.

“This is different, it has to be me,” Izuku shakes his head.

“Why?” Todoroki asks, not bothering to hide that he was eavesdropping on their conversation; his stare piercing through Izuku’s entire being.

“Because…” Because he owes it to All Might. Because he hadn’t been there, let him die alone. Because he’d never done what he was supposed to, never made things right. Never said all those things on the tip of his tongue. Had let his fear swallow him whole and now there was nothing left to do except arrange All Might’s funeral.

“It’s my responsibility,” Izuku says, simply. Firmly. Gathering his notes and list of numbers and cell phone. “I’ll go home, do the rest of this there. I shouldn’t be disturbing your work. I’ll be back after the memorial has finished.”

No one stops him from making his exit.

______________________________

“Izuku!” Melissa calls out the moment she sees him by the baggage claim. Katsuki stays a distance a way, watching as the young engineer rushes to hug the haggard looking hero.

Startled, just for a moment, he stumbles a foot back. Melissa, seeming to have predicted this, keeps him up right as she buries her face in his shoulder. “I can’t believe Uncle Might is gone,”

Slowly, he wraps his arms around her as well, holding her close and letting her tears wet the fabric of his shirt. He has no idea what to say, no words of comfort, so he just holds her while she collects herself. Ignores Katsuki glaring daggers at him over her shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Melissa says, finally, after coming up for air “I’m sorry, you must be more upset than anyone and here I am carrying on--”

“I’m fine,” Izuku replies with a tilted smile, squeezing her hand. “It’s good to see you.”

She pulls away, brushing off her clothes and sniffling a bit; clearly on the verge of even more tears. “My dad wanted to be here, too, but…”

“I know. I tried to pull some strings, get him amnesty so that he could attend but…” he trails off, shaking his head. The authorities had been clear, they consider David Shield to be too dangerous for such a journey. It was unfair, after just one incident all those years ago. It left Melissa alone, too.

“I booked you guys rooms at a hotel not far from where the service will be held, I’ll take you over so you can get some rest,” He changes the subject to one that is slightly less awkward. Katsuki continues to not say anything as he follows Izuku and Melissa out of the airport.

________________________

There isn’t much time left before the funeral service, and a lot of things to get done before hand. At least, that’s what Izuku tells himself in order to keep busy after all the invitations had been passed out and the funeral arrangements made. 

He’d found a lovely funeral home to plan everything, they handled a lot of heroes. Izuku was asked to make a few decisions. Flowers, venue. What All Might was to wear when he was buried. He had suits, more fitted to his form after his retirement, but there were his hero costumes as well. Of every era. That could be refitted if needed.

Izuku thought it would be unfair, after all All Might had done for this world, to have to remain the Symbol of Peace even after being buried. And, selfishly, he wanted to say goodbye not to his childhood hero but to the man who raised him. So he’d decided on a suit.

But using the funeral home meant that there wasn’t much of an active role in the planning process. Which means large blocks of time which Izuku had requested off of work to do nothing but sit and stare at the wall. Or worse, be passed from person to person as they all expressed their condolences.

The brief stints on which he paid visits to his own apartment he’d been handed enough home made meals to feed the entirety of Japan. He’d brought them to the agency, so they could be passed out to anyone who was currently using it as refuge. It wasn’t as if he’d eat all that regardless.

That had killed an hour or so, but had come with the extra painful process of each one of his friends telling him to ‘take it easy’ and then having to persuade them that he was fine, really.

And he was. He was fine. Oddly fine. Exhausted, sure, but he’d been busy. He keeps waiting to not be fine. For it to finally hit him that All Might had died, was gone, that he’d never see him again. To cry his eyes out like Melissa did at the airport.

To cry at all.

While he waits, he finds things to do. Like pack up All Might’s old apartment. Sort his belongings into boxes so they can be stored somewhere and then auctioned off for charity. It’s what the former number one would want, Izuku is sure of it.

The man hadn’t owned much, most of it was keepsakes. Some from his years as a pro, but most from his time as a teacher at UA. Handmade trophies and cards from students. Pictures in frames and in albums. Izuku tries not to think too hard about how many of them feature himself. Pointedly avoids looking directly at a framed photo of his mom, All Might, and himself at his high school graduation ceremony.

“I can’t believe it, my little Izuku is so grown up,” Inko Midoriya wailed, holding a squirming eighteen year old Izuku in her arms as he whined in embarrassment. Still, it had felt nice. To have accomplished what no one thought he could.

Well almost no one.

All Might, the first person to ever tell him he could ever be a hero, strode right up to the small Midoriya family with a big smile. “Midoriya my boy! You really have come far, you should be proud.”

“Thanks dad,” Izuku said, the relief of finally being able to escape his mother’s grip preventing him from thinking about what he was saying. The realization hit him a moment later, a moment too late. He looked up at his teacher with a red face, sputtering. “I’m sorry--I didn’t--”

All Might looked stunned for a moment, before pulling the boy into a hug of his own. “I’m proud of you, my boy.”

That was, of course, was all it took for Izuku to start bawling. Which was exactly what he was doing when the picture had been snapped.

Now, a decade later, he stares at the photograph for just a moment, mouth dry, before gently placing it face down on the side table. There wasn’t time for reminiscing. He had to pack these things up.

________________________

As more and more people file into the room and take their seats, Izuku wonders if he should have looked for a bigger venue. He’d had the list of attendees before hand, had invited them himself, but somehow the crowd seems bigger within these solemn walls. Suffocating, even.

The air is thick, causing his brain to go hazy as he greets people as they walk in. Some shaking his hand, giving condolences; others daring to pull him into a hug. Mostly those were the people he knew well. Mirio, Iida, Uraraka, his mom. And Melissa again, as she ushered in a disgruntled Katsuki.

“Katsuki,” Izuku greets, unsure of what to say. There are so many years between them. The extended silence the most amicable their relationship has ever been. Apparently the explosive man feels less so now, keeping his hands firmly in the pockets of his dark colored suit until Izuku takes the hint and retracts his own hand. “It’s good of you to come.”

“You too,” The blonde speaks for the first time (at least to Izuku) since his plane landed. “Surprised you weren’t too busy to show up.”

Sharp red eyes wander around the room, landing on the sunflowers next to the portrait of their deceased teacher. Not exactly traditional, but Izuku had spent hours staring at, frankly, depressing flower arrangements before coming to the conclusion that All Might would have hated all of them. 

Katsuki seems to agree because he actually smiles slightly. That is, until Izuku returns it with an awkward smile of his own; causing the other hero to click his tongue and frown irritably, rushing off to find his seat.

“Bakugo!” Melissa calls after him, distressed by his behavior “I don’t know what’s up with his attitude, I swear.”

“That’s just...Katsuki,” Izuku replies. Although that wasn’t entirely fair. He hadn’t been this volatile in years. But there were other people to greet and Izuku really didn’t care to spend any more time analyzing Katsuki’s sour mood.

Melissa looked hesitant, but eventually turned to find her own seat. “I’ll talk to you when it’s over, good luck, Izuku.”

______________

It’s not until the service is over that Izuku registers that he won’t remember any of it. It was as if he’d been asleep. All of it, the crying, the speeches, even his own. If he hadn’t written it down he would have no idea what he’d even said. Did it go well? He had no idea. It had all faded into the background, keeping him in a stupor.

He’s snapped to attention by a hand on his shoulder. Aizawa looks almost the same, somehow, even after all these years. His eyes say that he’s on the verge of giving Izuku a lecture, but he decides better of it as he sizes the young hero up.

“Midoriya,” He says, eventually. “It was a nice service. Go home, get some rest.”

Maybe it was force of habit but Izuku almost immediately says ‘yes Mr. Aizawa’ before he remembers he’s not 16 and a student in Eraser Head’s class anymore. So instead he forces a smile, and says “Thank you, I will. As soon as I take care of everything here.”

Aizawa pauses, opens his mouth to argue, then closes it again. He opts instead to nod and give Izuku another pat on the shoulder, before leaving with the now nearly grown Eri in tow.

Things continue in this fashion. People tell him it was a nice service, express their condolences, insist he get some rest, then go home. Until almost everyone is gone. Melissa and Katsuki are waiting, hanging in the back so that Izuku can give them a ride back to their hotel. 

Maybe he should have made arrangements for someone else to take them, he would probably be held up for a while. He walks over to them to suggest just that but Melissa cuts him off before he can start.

“We’re fine waiting.” She insists on Katsuki’s behalf. “It was a lovely service, Izuku, Uncle Might would have thought so too.”

“Yeah, real fuckin’ nice” Katsuki spits, having reached his limit of polite conversation. “It was real fuckin’ nice how you didn’t let anyone help, like you’re the only one affected by all this. It was real fuckin’ nice that you disappeared, didn’t say a word to him for years and now show up like the prodigal son after the fact and pretend like nothing happened. It was especially nice when you stood up there and talked about All Might, the hero, the Symbol of Peace. Like he was a fuckin’ stranger. Like you didn’t even know him.”

Izuku flinches with each pointed, and frankly, true, accusation. Backing up almost subconsciously. Scared of Katsuki in a way he hadn’t been since high-school. Or, more accurately, scared of his words, scared of what he may say next.

“Do you even care? Do you give even a single shit that All Might is dead? Because you’re acting like you couldn’t care less. Did he really mean that little to you? You, the favorite, the golden child. Oh we’re so proud of Deku who can’t be fucked to pick up the fucking phone” Katsuki growls, following Izuku as he stumbles back.

“You know, I get it. Why you never talk to me. I was a jerk, the biggest asswipe on the face of the fucking planet. I made your life hell and you hate me and I deserve it. I deserve for you to pretend I don’t exist. But what I can’t fuckin’ figure out is what the hell All Might did to earn the same treatment! Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you treated him like shit when all he ever did was support you!”

“Even now you’re just staring at me with those fuckin’ zombie eyes, say something! Say something you piece of shit! Show any emotion, if you even fuckin’ still have ‘em!”

Katsuki’s impromptu speech is interrupted by Izuku’s fist connecting with his jaw.

The blonde looks stunned, holding his jaw where there’s now a large blossoming bruise. For a split second it seems like that will be the end of it before he lets out a guttural yell and tackles Izuku to the ground.

Izuku retaliates by slamming his knee, sharply, into Katsuki’s gut. Causing the taller man to cough and roll off him, briefly. They get a few more kicks and punches in before they’re separated. Izuku being lifted off of Katsuki by a not at all amused Tetsutetsu while Ashido hooks her arms under Katsuki’s shoulders to keep him from lunging again.

“Get off of me,” he hisses, shoving her away enough to stand up and straighten his suit. He glares at Izuku but makes no moves to lunge at him once more. Tetsutetsu, in turn, sets Izuku back down.

The moment his feet connect with the floor, a hand smacks him across the cheek. Before he can question it, or even comprehend what had just happened; Melissa has turned around to do the same to Katsuki.

“I can’t believe you! Both of you! Acting this way at Uncle Might’s funeral!” She scolds, potentially the angriest Izuku has ever seen the American. “What would he think, if he saw this? What would he say?”

“It doesn’t matter,” to the surprise of everyone, the sullen, bitter, words come from Izuku and not Katsuki. They turn and look at him, expecting him to apologize or give any indication that he was joking. 

“It doesn’t matter!” He asserts again, wiping blood from his nose. “He’s gone! It doesn’t matter what he’d say or what he’d think because he’s gone!”

His voice cracks on the last word. Because it’s true, All Might is gone. He’d died without Izuku even getting to say goodbye; let alone all the other things. 

I’m sorry I haven’t kept in touch, I was scared. Terrified, that you’d hate me.

I admire you, more than anyone else. And I appreciate everything you’ve done, for the world, for me. I wouldn’t be who I am without you, I wouldn’t be alive.

Because of you I had a safe childhood. Because of you one of the biggest threats to man kind is rotting in prison. Because of you people had hope. I never meant to tarnish your legacy, you’re the entire reason I wanted to be a hero in the first place.

I know it doesn’t seem like it, that it looks like i’m tearing down everything you worked for. That’s why I've been avoiding this, because I didn’t want to hurt you. Because I want you to be proud of me. But this is what needs to be done it’s the right thing to do. Just like what you did was right then.

You were there for me when no one else was, when my biological father couldn’t care less. You took me in, you raised me. I shouldn’t have shut you out, I shouldn’t have avoided this. I wasted precious time.

I’m sorry, thank you. I love you.

“It doesn’t matter, whatever I say, or do; it won’t reach him anymore,” Finally, the damn breaks. Starting with a gasping, hiccuped breath, silent tears streaming, working its way up to full on sobs, enough to wrack his entire frame.

“It’s about damn time,” Katsuki mutters, although there’s no more malice in his tone. “I’m taking a cab back to the hotel, let me know when the waterworks are over,”

Melissa looks angry once more, like she wants to say something, but Katsuki makes his exit quickly, and chasing after him would leave the trembling Izuku alone. So instead, she holds him like he did for her, letting his tears soak her dress.

“It’s going to be alright, because I am here.”

[alittletournesol]

Kingdom Of Jinju {MinKey} part 28/33

Chapter 28 : Invasion

Night had surrounded the palace after the long and tough day combining a tumultuous council and a rather expected trial. The rest of the afternoon had been even busier, the King and Prince immediately laughing preparations for their now essential leaving to Mongje ; they couldn’t wait as much as they wanted, for it would mean to risk their life for even a longer time.

The further interrogation of the spy after her trial, in the snugness of her cell, had told more and more interesting details of her mission. She had been in town for a few weeks to quietly investigate the people, learning as much as she could about her target ; it had been a chance for her to be around the south side when soldiers had come to fetch every endangered person during that storm… it had been an open door to the palace for her, although she had still waited before trying to put her plan into action.

She had almost succeeded, the only flaw in this long thought plan being the unexpected presence of no one else than the Prince in the King’s quarters. She could have got rid of him in a flash too… killing both sovereigns on her own, something which had never been done before. A first time in the Five Kingdoms’ history.

Recalling these events, Jinki was lying on his back but even the softness of his mattress couldn’t sooth his tensed muscles. He felt as if he had failed his duty, his promise to defend his best friend at the risk of his own life ; he knew he hadn’t, yet it hadn’t been thanks to him. The day had been so hectic that he was only realizing at that exact moment that he had almost died, he had never been this close to death. 

Even when he had almost been buried alive under the school’s ruins because of the storm didn’t feel like the scariest moment to reminisce. No, this time, it had really been a matter of seconds before his throat could have been slit, giving him only a few seconds to resist before dying, just enough to perhaps witness Minho’s murder. Would have he been strong enough to survive a bit more, to see Kibum die as well ? And Jonghyun, who had been there too ?

Although they were all out of danger for the time being, he still felt the weight of failure on his shoulders. Now he was surrounded by worries regarding their upcoming journey of the Prince’s hometown. He might be the General, but his appointment wasn’t distant ; an invasion needed solid leadership qualities, which he knew he had. Yet, never had he led an entire army, appointed lieutenants to represent him when his place was always as close to the King as possible. 

It was an important organisation that required an utmost sense of strategy, and he was overwhelmed by this simple idea. Added to this, the young girl’s revelation itself was still resounding in his head and it was like voices were yelling all potential consequences at him… from the security of two persons he was attached to, to the safety of an entire kingdom if the invasion didn’t come as intended. After all…

“Jinki.” A gentle voice was calling him, but he couldn’t tell for how long. “Hey, baby, come back to me.”

Blinking a few times, the soldier got a grip and the blurred scenery around him started to clear until he distinguished the face above him, with its familiar sharp features and affectionate eyes. He frowned, noticing the glint of incomprehension in the usually bright irises he liked to look into until he felt at ease. Jonghyun’s blonde eyebrows were slightly furrowed, a disturbing curved line forming between them. 

”Jonghyun…” He whispered before shaking a bit his head. “I’m sorry, I spaced out.”

“I noticed, it was like you didn’t hear me anymore.” The teacher replied, the corner of his lips suddenly raising a tiny bit. “Neither were you feeling me.”

“Feeling you…?”

Before he was in a position to ponder these last words, Jinki got hit by where he was at that exact moment and what he was doing before he had got carried away. He was completely naked, his legs up in the air with his thighs pressed around a just as naked, tanned body. Kneeling between them, Jonghyun was overhanging him with his palms facing the mattress on either side of his partner’s waist. And when the soldier made a slight move, the sudden stinging sensation he felt finished to wake him up.

“By the…” He choked and hid his face with both his hands after a quick look at the man staring at him. “I’m so… Don’t tell me I fell asleep.”

“I don’t know if it would have been better or worse, but no.” The teacher ended up smiling, holding himself on one palm to softly free his lover’s face with his other hand and look at him. “As you said, you just spaced out.”

“I’m so sorry, it’s not about you, I’m sure you were wonderful but I… I’m…”

“You are troubled, your mind is somewhere else.”

“Did you… finish…?”

“Of course not, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I kept making love to you while you don’t even realise it ?”

“Just… Forget about it, I’m ready, let’s do it.”

Saying this and without expecting an answer, Jinki cleared his throat and let his head and arms fall back on the bed. And he waited. 

“Jinki.” The blonde man giggled. “We can’t.”

“Of course we can, my mind is here now and I’ll keep it here, I promise.” The other answered, using his heels to pull his lover towards him. “Come on.”

“No, I mean… you’re not hard anymore, it’s been five good minutes already.”

“What ?”

His eyes widening, the soldier lowered his head to watch his own crotch, gaping when he realized than he was indeed not responding anymore to Jonghyun’s efforts. That was a first time for him, and he was sure he had been hard when they had started… of course he had, otherwise his lover wouldn’t currently be inside him. A sort of shame invaded his already busy mind as his face turned red, and he quickly grabbed the free pillow to cover his whole head.

The teacher couldn’t help but laugh, although he wasn’t making fun of Jinki, this quite new situation for the latter being unfortunately amusing. His reaction was such a contrast with his usual way to handle whatever clumsy things happened to him… he was cute, and Jonghyun could fall for this over and over again. With an extreme delicateness, he moved backwards to free his own member and took a short moment to clean it before he walked on his knees to sit next to the other man.

“Why are you hiding ?” He asked, his hand reaching under the pillow to softly caress the soldier’s cheek with the side of one finger. “Won’t you show me your face ?”

“It’s… humph… shame…” A muffled voice just mumbled in return, making the other smile.

“You know, I remember a day, a few years ago, when I couldn’t get an erection although I was with one of the most handsome young men of Mongje’s nobility. We tried everything but I never got hard… so I told him to go away and I hid for the whole night and next day in my room. I even avoided him afterwards, because I believed he might think he wasn’t good enough for me to want him. Which would have been so wrong, actually, I was the most disappointed man in this story. Such a shame I couldn’t jump on that delicious creature that day.”

Jinki quietly listened to the blonde man’s story, which he told with such ease that he suddenly felt like a kid. At least, he had managed to get hard in a first place… was it really a good thing to compare them and benefit from it ? Slowly, the General pushed down the pillow and looked at his boyfriend, who was still waiting to see him with a smile on his face.

“He really didn’t reproach you with it ?” He asked, and his genuine curiosity just made him even cuter to Jonghyun’s so privileged eyes.

“Of course not, our body doesn’t always react the way we would want it to.” The younger answered, not ceasing his little touch on the other’s cheek. “Three days later, he begged me to stop after I made him come three times.”

“And now, you’re lying.”

“I admit, but at least it made you smile.”

When he was given a quick wink, Jinki laughed and relaxed, staring at the ceiling. The things he would do for this man… he couldn’t even list them. 

“So, will you tell me what is burdening you that much ?” The teacher wondered as his fingers ran through the dark hair, starting to braid three thin strands without even realizing it. “It’s not good to keep it inside.”

“It’s just… everything that fell on us so fast.” The soldier sighed. “I don’t know what to think about it, it’s all so sudden and it’s quite a huge responsibility on my shoulders.”

“And these shoulders are stronger than you think. Nevertheless, it’s your very first invasion and it’s a consequential one. You’re scared ?”

“Not scared, rather confused about how to organise myself. And it’s not only about it, I mean… a war can occur. The Prince’s father attempted to murder our King, twice, and he almost succeeded the second time. We have proofs of Mongje being involved, and the girl confessed, she said his name. What if he doesn’t admit ? What if he refuses to submit ? We will have to besiege the manor, the town around, maybe the whole province… Is it really safe, is it— ”

“Alright, that’s enough, you’re going to pop a vein. I hear your worries, and they’re reasonable. But you’re far from being alone in all this situation, you don’t have to lock yourself and try to resolve everything by yourself.”

“What do you mean ? Everyone is so busy already, they don’t need to hear me whining while they’re getting prepared themselves. They’re even more affected than I am.”

“Yes, but there is someone you tend to forget when he’s the certainly the best person to consult when you need military and strategy advices. Tomorrow morning would be the good time, before you drown in your worries.”

“Who ?”

“Aren’t you the son of a man who used to be in your place ? And if I know my history well, a man whose own father besieged Dongjeo on behalf of his sovereign for a bit less than a year ?”

The soldier blinked a few times. It took him a few seconds to remember that indeed, his grandfather had led a siege during a one year long war that had opposed Jinju and the kingdom of the Gods’ Mountain… and he had brought his wife and children with him at that time. His youngest son later became a General in his turn for the late King Minhyuk. Jinki’s father.

“What time is it ?” He bluntly asked, unsettling Jonghyun for a moment. “It’s not that late, right ?”

“I would say one in the morning, sun sets pretty late during summer and night had been here for a bit more than an hour.” The other man replied, frowning. “Why ?”

“Father used to sleep early when he was on duty, but now that he’s retired… he might still be awake.”

“Wait, you’re not planning to visit him now ?”

“I won’t sleep if I don’t speak with him now. You’re right, the answer was just before my eyes, I can’t let it pass me by.”

Saying this, the General jumped out of his bed and grabbed his shirt to put it on quickly. In no time, he had his sword in hand and was running outside the room.

“Jinki, come back !” The teacher called him as he stoop up in his turn to reach the door, bringing the sheet with him to cover his naked body. “Lee Jinki ! Your trousers !”

* * * * *

The next morning, it was under a bright sun that the spy was taken out of her cell by two soldiers, her arms firmly held to prevent her from escaping. What they didn’t know, or didn’t want to admit, was that she definitely didn’t want to run away, for that prison was actually safer, more comfortable than the small room in which she had been living with her fellows for years. 

Although she had acted tough during her trial, she couldn’t deny how she had eventually broken down when that guy with blonde hair had uncovered her secret so easily… was he even human ? Sure he had been present during her first questioning, right after she had woken up from the hit on her head. But he had remained quiet, all questions coming from the mouth of the one with a soldier attire — a high status, she had guessed.

She was still dumbfounded at how her deepest secret had been revealed in such a short time, but after a quite good night’s sleep, she could see her way through it. It seemed to be a good thing for her to be kept here, since she wasn’t destined for death despite what she had tried to do. It was still surprising, coming from the King himself, but now she felt like she owed him her life, when she had been the one almost taking his. 

However, she didn’t want to hope some royal forgiveness or anything ; she was still an assassin, a spy for a province who wanted the death of the most powerful person in all the realm. She might be young, but she wasn’t stupid enough to blindly expect her life to suddenly smile to her. Nothing would bring her family back and she didn’t have anything to do in this world anymore. 

As she was taken inside the palace, she couldn’t help but stand gaping at the inside architecture, the colors and decorations ; never had she had the honor to visit such a beautiful place. Her family wasn’t poor, yet they weren’t wealthy either, and it had been the reason behind their unfair slaughter. Not poor enough, not rich enough. She snorted alone. She was in between, she wasn’t part of a side of this society, and it felt worse than being forced to beg for food in the streets.

She was so lost in her negative thoughts that she kept her head lowered when both soldiers made her stop in a new room. She just heard footsteps here and there, the sound of chests and cases being put down and of rustling parchment. The almost imperceptible grazing noise on the paper was clear enough to let her guess it was the tip of a quality brush. 

“Guards, let her go.” A voice interrupted her quiet study, but she didn’t look up for all that. “She can stand on her own, please leave us.”

Both men obeyed immediately and the girl almost sighed with relief when the strong pressure on her arms ceased. She heard them leave and close the door behind them, but it was evident that they were guarding it from outside. Still, it was one pressure less. As she rubbed her left arm with her fingers, she let her eyes wander to the side of the room, discovering a charming wallpaper with flowers. It looked so modest she wondered is she really was in the palace of the great King…

“You must be hungry.” The voice from earlier spoke again, this time drawing her attention and curiosity enough to make her look towards its owner. “I asked for fruits to be brought, please serve yourself.”

The young woman cocked an eyebrow as she eventually put a familiar face on the voice, which she eventually recognized as well. The Prince of Jinju himself was standing a few meters away from her, leaning on a long table covered with rolled out scrolls and maps. He wasn’t even looking at her but it didn’t feel rude, she could sense it wasn’t his intention ; he was just extremely busy, considering his status and the considerable packing that was happening in the room.

Every here and then, a houseboy or housemaid entered by a second door, either joining forces to carry a big chest or bringing smaller cases one by one. It was like a ritual, their sovereign would put his own paper work aside to take a close look at the contents of each box. He then told the servants if there was something missing, or something too much, and would draw a tick on one of the lists spread on the table. As soon as a package was announced ready, it would be brought elsewhere to make space to more.

A journey was definitely being prepared, and quite an important one, the girl thought. She didn’t understand why she had been led here though, for she wasn’t of any use.

“Tell me about yourself.” Kibum gently asked, gesturing to a maid at the same time and making her present the basket of fruits to the girl. “You’re tough today, but I suppose you were not as much before. It interests me.”

“I… Hum, I was just a child.” She replied after a long moment not knowing what to say nor do, while she accepted a peach and nervously started to peal it with her nails. “There isn’t much to say tho, it’s kinda boring.”

The way some servants looked at her with surprise in their eyes startled her, making her think she had said something wrong. They were staring at her, then at the Prince and her again… it was quite strange. However, she relaxed a bit when the raven haired man giggled and finally looked at her ; his eyes were gentle, he didn’t want to harm her in any way. He was sincere.

“Have you ever mixed with nobles ?” He genuinely asked. “My servants are surprised by the way you addressed me.”

“Oh, no I didn’t…” She stuttered, understanding the issue although she didn’t change her way of speaking. “I’m not a noble and they don’t really mix with us.”

“That is why you never learned how to speak formally. I will not mind it, after all, I do not talk this way in private either.”

“I can make an effort, your… Highness ?”

“Your Grace is enough for me, my dear, Highness will be for the King. Where were we ? Why would your life be too boring for me to hear it ?”

“As I said, I am no noble, your Grace. My parents lived from their farm and field, it was quite big but still not enough to make us rise a bit more. We never had a real status.”

“Yes, Mongje tends to be unfair in terms of status, that leaves a lot of people like your family and you hanging between the people and the nobility… I know that, unfortunately. You were a farmer, then. What were you doing to help your family ?”

Once he asked this question, a houseboy brought a new box and the Prince had to take care of it, yet he notified the girl that he was listening. She hesitated at first, not prepared to tell so many things about herself… but the man had a reassuring aura around him.

“It will sound weird but I was in charge of our field’s harvest.” She said, slowly eating her fruit between two sentences. “My father had back pain so he couldn’t lean on, and my mother… she suffered a gangrene because of an infection years before and a doctor cut half of her leg. They couldn’t do it.”

“It is a chance your mother survived an amputation.” Kibum commented before he realized what he had said. “Oh… my apologies, this was not the best thing to say.”

“It is… fine, I suppose ? My siblings were too young to do it so I was the only one.”

“You had siblings ?”

“Yes, a sister and twin brothers. They were younger than me, ten and six years old.”

“I presume your sister looked like you ?”

“Not really, but my brothers had my face. It was funny when we were he three of us sitting next to each other, my parents wondered whether I looked like a boy or they looked like girls.”

“The same happened with my older sister, we looked alike a lot. She had thiner features, though, so it was me who apparently looked like a girl.”

“I didn’t know you had a sister, your Grace.”

“I had one, indeed. She passed away last year.”

“I’m… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s fine, now you know I can partially understand your pain. Shall we talk more ?”

The smile on the Prince’s lips was encouraging, but not pressuring, and the girl eventually returned it. As she watched him being kept busy with all these chests and boxes, tracing lines on maps with his fingers, she answered his questions about her and her family, her previous life. The more she talked, the more relaxed and at ease she felt, and she dropped her guard for the first time in years.

Kibum carefully listened and made sure to ask proper questions that wouldn’t invade her privacy too much. He was just curious about this young woman whose life had got destroyed so fast, so soon. He wanted to help her, or at least to give her a sympathetic ear, because he knew it could really have a positive effect on someone who had suffered as much as she had.

As time passed, he learned that her name was Siyeon and that she was just thirteen when her family had been killed by his father’s soldiers. The weather hadn’t been clement for a few months, which had resulted in less gatherings ; even the extra livestock they had decided to give up on hadn’t been enough to give her a proper income. They had barely received enough to eat, and when the tax levy had occurred, they had been unable to pay theirs. 

The officer had been generous enough to grant them a delay, but purposely made it too short. When he had come back to claim the due money, a few armed soldiers were accompanying him ; Siyeon wasn’t home at that moment, for she was visiting a friend with the authorization of her father. The Prince felt a lump in his throat when he realized the poor girl had come home without knowing anything, and discovered her family slaughtered in their own house. 

As she had told everyone during the trial, she had discovered it was the work of Lord Taehyun’s soldiers, thanks to the piece of parchment nailed on her door : unpaid taxes. These were the words that caused the death of two parents and their three children. She had mourned them for months, after burying them with the help of her neighbors ; although she had refused to depend on them when they had proposed her, they would still kindly brought her food when she would lack it.

The way she had become a spy had been pure chance : she had witnessed one of them during his mission, and he was almost as young as her, barely two years older. He hadn’t had the strength to kill her, for his investigation in the village to find his target had led him to learn about the slaughtered family. However, she had begged him to kill her so she could join her loved ones. He had refused, and instead, had brought her to the spies’ hideout. He had pretended that her natural skills with blades had almost had him killed, and she had been accepted in the order.

Trained, accommodated, fed… and paid, once her missions had started. Killing hadn’t been part of her job before her twelfth mission ; to assassinate the King of Jinju had been the sixteenth. The first spy who had failed this mission was the elder brother of the young boy who had brought her. She had failed too.

“But now that I think about it…” She ended up saying. “I feel relieved.”

“Because you failed ?” Kibum smiled. “Me too.”

“Will I stay in the dungeon forever, then ?”

“My husband is still thinking of a way for you to be free, but you understand we cannot release you into the wild.”

“I understand.”

“Speaking of the devil and he shall appear.”

Frowning, Siyeon got the allusion when the doors opened and she saw the King enter, his stately bearing being so impressive she couldn’t look at him for too long. He was so tall than she felt even shorter than she already was, and a bit overwhelmed. He was accompanied by three soldiers who stood by his side and startled the young woman as they grabbed hold of their weapon when they noticed her. However, she got reassured by the way the sovereign didn’t look at her and addressed the Prince, his voice soft and his tone gentle.

“Do they keep you busy, my Prince ?” He asked with a smile, his hand placed on the other man’s back. “You should take a rest. I was about to take a light meal, will you join me ?”

“With great delight, my King.” Kibum replied, not even pushing his husband away when feeling him so close in front of people. “But ask your question first.”

“My— you will have to teach me how to anticipate one’s intentions the way you do with me.”

“Perhaps, or perhaps not. What is it ?”

“I have not seen my General since yesterday evening, I might get worried if he does not show up soon. Is he with…?”

“No, he is not. But Sir Jonghyun told me he left his quarters really late at night to go find his father.”

“Did he ? I will send a soldier to him. I see you have company ?”

“Indeed, may I introduce you properly ? Her name is Lee Siyeon, and we talked a bit about her interests and life.”

The girl swallowed with difficulty as she didn’t know how to greet a King, but a quick glance at the three soldiers helped her. One of them was looking rather young and indulgent, and he quickly showed her a proper bow. Immediately imitating him, she kept looking at him, as he was lowering his hand to let her know how much she had to lean on. When he stopped, she stayed like this for a few seconds before standing up.

“It is a pleasure, Siyeon.” Minho said while Kibum showed a thumb up to the young soldier behind them — certainly a friend of his ? “I discussed your case with my private council : you will know soon about our decision, but you can already unwind. You will not go back to the dungeon.”

“Really, your Highness ?” She asked, maybe a bit too loud.

“Yes, we just have to make sure of some things more. Will you be patient ?”

“Yes, yes your Highness.”

“Good. Dear, could your maids perhaps give this young woman more decent clothes for the time being ?”

“Naturally.” The Prince replied before clapping his hands to call three young girls inside. “Sweethearts, I will need your help. Can you help our guest and find her some better clothes ? Also, please find a way to cover a bit the hole that was made in her hair… I do not want her to feel uneasy.”

As they obeyed, the three maids approached Siyeon and kindly gestured her towards the door. With one last look at her hosts, the former spy made sure she would be safe, and the Prince’s nod in her direction reassured her. When she left, both husbands looked at each other and quietly agreed to leave too. For his safety, the King couldn’t command the three soldiers to let him in peace, so he led Kibum to a private room ; once Taemin, Jongin and Wonsik made sure the room itself was safe, they went out and guarded the closed door.

The sovereigns sighed and let themselves fall on the couch, Minho placing his hand on his husband’s thigh while the latter rested his head on the strong shoulder. They remained quiet for a moment, until a few knocks at the door announced a houseboy who brought them some tea and things to eat. As soon as they were alone again, each savoring their snack, they eventually broke the silence.

“I see you took good care of her.” The younger started. “She seemed less terrifying, standing here shyly.”

“I made her comfortable, it wasn’t easy at first but I managed to make her talk more and more.” Kibum answered with a smile. “She really went through a horrible situation, she had very young siblings and she was helping her parents with so much care… I feel really guilty on behalf of my father.”

“Please don’t, it’s not your fault. We will protect her now.”

“How did the private council go ? Did they accept not to let her rot in the dungeons ? She’s so young, we must help her repair her mistake, have a new life…”

“I agree, that’s why I didn’t let them a choice. I asked them for advices about how to hire this young woman.”

“Hire her ? Minho, she might have been a farmer once, but she spent three years working as a spy, a very good one. You can’t make a common maid of her, it would be a very harsh sanction.”

“Listen before sermonizing me. Do you remember your lessons the ancient kingdom of Silla ?”

“Please, it was only a few centuries ago so it’s not that ancient. Of course I remember, with the reign of King Jinheung. He might be the one I know most things about. Why so ?”

“You must already know about the class of Hwarangs, then. But before them, he created a similar class of warriors. They were chosen according to the same criteria, beauty and skills, but the difference was that they were all women.”

“Minho, are you talking about Wonhwas ? We both know how they ended, two leaders of a group of female warriors, one murdering the other over jealousy, the class being abolished… What are you even thinking about, bringing it back ?”

“No, this would be a mistake to try recreating the past exactly as it was. But Wonhwas’ duty was to ensure the royal family’s safety, they were skilled warriors. And I think it would be a great position for Siyeon, considering her skills. I mean she almost killed us !”

“It’s not a bad idea, but it deserves more consideration than just one private council. Be reasonable, this really is an important decision to assign someone as a… a new version of Wonhwas. Can it wait until our return ?”

“I guess it can. Then, I was thinking of letting her come with us, after all, she knows things and we promised her to punish your father for what he did to her family. We could kill two birds with one rock. What do you say ?”

“I say this sounds reasonable, it will certainly trouble my father to see her by our side and not his anymore. And we will keep an eye on her that way. Leave me the task to tell her about this, she seems to slowly trust me so I have to go on.”

The King nodded and praised his husband about how involved he was about this girl despite the reason of her presence in the palace. He trusted him, Kibum had become enough of a cautious man to take right decisions ; his communicating and phrasing skills were also a precious asset, that couldn’t be ignored. 

Once this was settled, they took a moment to quietly enjoy their tea, staying close to each other and playing with each other’s hand. Minho looked at their fingers and smiled at the thought they seemed to have been created to be interlaced, their respective phalanxes fitting perfectly between the other’s… however, they looked so empty. The King was wondering if he could change that, maybe by commanding the blacksmith to forge similar rings ?

He was so lost in these pleasant thoughts, playing with his husband’s fingers, that he got startled when the latter stood up.

“We should go back.” Kibum said. “I still have to study the maps and you must find Jinki to get our army prepared.”

“You’re so attractive when you tell me what to do…” Minho said with his deep voice, unable to refrain himself from pulling the other man against him, holding his waist. “I don’t like it when we barely see each other in a whole day.”

“I spoil you too much. Be an adult, my King.”

“You will regret asking me this.”

With a smile, the tallest of them captured his elder’s lips with his, ravishing his mouth with that passion that was never sleeping in him. Slightly laughing, Kibum didn’t refuse the kiss and even intensified it by sliding his hands under his love’s collar, caressing the warm skin of his neck. It was too short, but they couldn’t ignore their obligations in such a time…

“Now, let’s go.” The Prince said when he broke the kiss. “I will meet you tonight.”

“My bed always longs for your body.” Minho replied, brushing his nose against the other man’s. “To think we will be forced to sleep separately again, and for how long…”

“I was thinking… my parents used my taste for the male sex against me, in a way. It’s a fair game if we present ourselves as what we are. The royal couple of Jinju. After all, we will besiege them so we can do what pleases us…”

“I like this idea. Almost everyone in this palace knows about you and me since yesterday so why pretending the opposite any longer ?”

“I agree. Shall we, then ?”

“Yes, I will be honored to introduce you to my parents-in-law as my beloved husband.”

Laughing, Kibum stole one last kiss to the man he loved with all his heart, and they pressed their foreheads together for a few long seconds. 

“When will we leave…?” He eventually asked Minho.

“In two days, at dawn.”

___________

Mongje’s walls appeared in sight after a few days of travelling, the great convoy surrounded and protected by hundreds of soldiers, if not thousands. A still considerable number of them had remained in Jinju to keep the kingdom and palace safe, while the Queen Mother was assuring the regency for as long as her son and son-in-law would be away. It was far from something new to her and Minho had faith in her, the decision had been taken with no hesitation.

The sky was a bit clouded, the soft smell of light rain perfuming the air, everything around feeling humid after the surprising shower. Feeble rays of sunlight were starting to pierce through the clouds, and Kibum was busy appreciating the returned warmth against the skin of his face. He was standing alone after requesting a moment with himself, and observed the place he had spent his whole life in, from afar. 

Behind him, he could hear the murmuring of a river combined to both the King and General’s commands. The great organisation had started, the entire army being separated and their placements revised ; a few squadrons had already left an hour before, each led by two lieutenants appointed by their superior. They would soon positioning themselves in a way to surround the enemy’s territory, allowing the King, Prince and their personal army to start a diplomatic invasion.

From where he stood, the raven haired man could distinguish his parents’ manor, the off-white bricks and light brown roof presuming a welcoming atmosphere. Perhaps it was, he couldn’t know how all these noble guests had felt when attending an audience or a reception. Him, on the other side, had never felt welcomed in this home and didn’t remember most of his childhood. It was like his mind had protected him from bad memories by making him conceal three quarters of the young Kibum’s life.

Only remained the few happy moments he had spent with his sister or with some of his mother’s maids who had been surprisingly kinder to him that his own genitor. He smiled at the remembrance of the nanny who had literally raised Haneul and him, offering them an affection he would never forget. His elder had received love from both their parents, Lady Eungyu taking care of her, teaching her ladies’ manners with passion and sparkles in her eyes ; she used to be so proud of her first born.

This, until his birth. He still didn’t know why his mother never showed him as much love as to his sister. She acknowledged him, at the very least, but never had she hugged him when he would cry, hurt himself or just need reassurance. It was like all her maternal instinct had been given to her daughter, and there wasn’t any more for her son ; he never resented Haneul for it, because despite being manifestly the favorite child, she had always showered him with love.

She had replaced his mother, somehow, teaching him a lot of things when she was barely two years older than him. He remembered her being so mature for her age, willing to satisfy everyone around her ; her happiness rested upon others’ happiness, and it started with her younger brother’s. She had wiped his tears, taken him to their nanny when he would fall and scratch his knees, even secretly brought him pastries filled with red bean paste a young cook would bake just for them. Their taste invaded his mouth and Kibum licked his lower lip ; he would give anything to have one again, to share it with her.

But he was about to go home and find no one who loved him. The only reason that would have encouraged him to return to this place would have been his sister’s presence. And when he looked at this bright, beautiful manor, it looked sad and unwelcoming to him. He felt a knot in his stomach and gritted his teeth, his head lowering by itself and his eyes staring at his fingers. Mechanically, he started scratching the thin skin around his thumb’s nail, an old habit of his.

He got drawn out of his thoughts by the sound of footsteps joining him on the grass, and a small hand he knew too well covered his. As he looked up, he met Taemin’s sweet smile although his own eyes were emotional as well at the thought of going back there. If the Prince thought his life had been hard in Mongje, he couldn’t even imagine how his young friend was still looking so contented after all he had been through.

“You didn’t expect it to hit you like that, right ?” The young soldier asked, keeping his elder’s hand in his and looking at Mongje with him. “It feels like years.”

“Though, it’s only been six months since we left.” Kibum commented. “Did you expect so many things to happen within only half a year ? I’m a Prince, you’re a soldier… we’re not children anymore.”

“I don’t really miss my childhood, I prefer to leave it in the past. My future looks much brighter now, and so does yours. They sent a son, and today they will welcome the Prince consort.”

“Yes… Mother will have a heart attack when she will see you wearing this outfit, you know ?”

“She always hated me, I bet she would have liked me to remain a useless boy all my life, nobody. I’m more stressed about your father…”

“He never really showed his emotions, so don’t expect too much. He might look at us blankly until we announce the reason of our visit. Then, he might explode.”

“Do you remember when you would stand in front of me, to protect me when he was about to hit me ? Now, it’s me who will protect you.”

“You’re brave. You’ve always been, you didn’t need my protection back then.”

“I don’t think you need mine either today. But I’ll be there.”

“Me too.”

Looking at his best friend, the Prince smiled and pulled him into the kind of embraces brothers exchanged. It was strong, filled with emotions that didn’t needed words to be conveyed. It was a quiet way for them to give each other enough strength to face a place they would no longer call home, neither of them. They had a home, and had left it a few days ago to pay a visit elsewhere. They weren’t coming back as the Lord’s son and the half-adopted orphan ; now they were the Prince of Jinju and an elite soldier of the King’s army. 

They wouldn’t fear anyone anymore.

“Can I join ?” A soothing voice interrupted their hug and made them turn towards its source. “Sorry to interrupt you.”

“Hyung…” Kibum smiled, approaching the blonde teacher and affectionately putting his hand around his nape. “You should have interrupted us sooner.”

“Both of you looked like you needed time alone to reminisce the past. I can sense you’re apprehensive of going back, am I right ?”

“Maybe we were, but I think we settled things.” Taemin nodded. “We’re different now, and Mongje isn’t our home anymore. But you…?”

“Me ? My home is wherever both of you are.”

“And the General, right ?” The Prince teased him. “I’m kidding. Will you stay by our side during the invasion ?”

“Of course. I will just take a moment to visit my parents, I think my mother has some things about royal blood to tell me. Mongje is too stuffed with secrets, it’s time for us to uncover them.”

The three of them sighed all together and turned their head towards the view, remaining quiet for a few seconds before Jonghyun took place between his two favorite students and held their back. Back to the beginning, he thought. They had gained ground since their departure, six months before, they had found themselves in Jinju and would now have to face the most difficult part of one’s growth : the past. It was up to each of them to let it take them back or to affront it, pushing it away for good.

The clouds were still covering the sky but it was less dark than a few minutes before ; the blonde man smiled alone as he saw a pleasant metaphor here. A town clouded by its secrets, but the sun was eventually making its way through them and enlightening a new place. 

“Your Grace ?” Minho’s voice brought a halt to the three men’s observation, all of them turning around to look at him. “If you need more time…”

“It’s fine.” Kibum answered, exchanging a stare with his friends before slowly walking to his husband, a smile on his lips. “Is it time already ?”

“Yes, our troops must be positioned now. Do you still want to blow them away ?”

“Were you scared that I might change my mind ? My parents must see who I became and who they’ll be dealing with from now on.”

“Then, let’s get changed. We’ll be leaving in half an hour.”

* * * * * 

Here and there, between the few houses and barns, both adults and children were keeping themselves busy. While men were making their respective livestock go back inside for the upcoming evening, women were already calling their children from the house’s door for bath and dinner. It was the end of another tough day for Mongje’s commoners, as they were called by the upper society.

They were living at the border of the town, with only a low wall made of white stones separating both areas. However, the people wasn’t disallowed to enter the nobility’s part of the province : they only had to walk along the wall until its end, which made a turning point to a whole new world. The more they walk to the North, the bigger the town got. Homes were built with higher walls, reinforced with stones and large beams ; between two opposite houses were hung a thick thread where a few paper lanterns were tied.

Although the sun was still far from completely setting, around six persons were wandering the streets with a stepladder and a long stick. It was a long process to light all lanterns up, but that maybe was the most charming thing in the town — at least, the only charming thing to Kibum’s eyes, who used to watch the show from his sister’s window when night would come. 

At that moment of the day, dinner was starting to get prepared and it was a matter of around two hours before the sky would darken. The surroundings were quiet and peaceful, until a particular noise startled all people that were still outside. It was a dull and cadenced sound that went louder by minutes passing ; at some point, it stirred up curiosity and more and more persons went out to find the source of that surprisingly pleasant din.

They didn’t get disappointed.

It took a few moments before a silhouette became visible, followed by another one, two more, until dozens were walking towards them. The origin of the sound was revealed in two huge drums, each held by a man wearing a military attire ; they were hitting it once, hard, one after another to maintain a same solemn rhythm. When they reached the first commoners, the latter frowned as they wondered who they were… and found themselves even more taken aback by the sudden squadron of soldiers following them in perfect rows.

It was like a formal parade, but they weren’t wearing Mongje’s colors and symbol. Whispers rose in the growing crowd, and only grew louder when one recognized the well known pearl on the banners. Their guess was confirmed when the rows gradually separated to make space to what could be seen as the most impressive means of transportation the people had ever seen.

Entirely built from the strongest wood in all the realm, an imposing sedan chair was being held by at least a dozen of porters, followed by a few litters which were certainly transporting maids and houseboys. Although it was almost all covered by a pure white silk sheet, it was noticeable that the carrying poles placed on the men’s shoulders were made of carved gold. But what did impress everyone around was the whole new style of chair in front of their eyes. It wasn’t a cabin for royalty and nobles where only one person could sit, thus hidden from curtain-twitchers. 

It was a whole banquette with not a single wooden wall to keep it inside ; twice larger, it could welcome two persons and, obviously, way more porters. As if the transportation wasn’t incredible enough, all got their breath taken away when there wasn’t any more doubt about their sudden visitors. There, sitting high on the seat and holding themselves upright with the utmost dignity, the Royal Couple of Jinju was being carried through the streets.

Surrounded by two good hundreds of soldiers to ensure their safety, they were inspiring power and respect. But the presence of the Prince, who was already known around here as the young Lord, was even a bigger surprise. He wasn’t the young man they had caught a brief glimpse at in the past, he was a whole different person. Still looking the same, with his thin features and his long almond-shaped eyes ; but his aura gave off more self confidence.

Without saying a single word, he glanced at every face he recognized from the time he would walk in town with his sister. It felt so weird to see familiar features after a period that had seemed way longer than six short months. Despite all his willing, he swallowed with difficulty when he saw a man look at him and immediately whispered to his wife’s ear. Sitting by his side, Minho’s sixth sense when he came to his husband made him aware of how he tensed up in no time.

Discreetly, he moved his arm to let his hand slide on the silk of his attire until it found the other man’s. Startled at first, Kibum almost removed his hand by instinct but remembered what they were ; before being a Prince, he wanted the world to know he was a husband. So he accepted the touch, slowly interlacing their fingers and appreciating the soothing pressure. If he was stressing out in front of the people, he would clearly pass out in front of his parents.

Getting a grip on himself, he let the porters carry them all along the low wall until the town, where the nobles had already gathered by hearing the parade coming their way. This time, there was even more people recognizing him, and he held his head high to avoid any stare ; not everyone here accepted the way he had been betrothed to the most powerful man in the real, him, a young man who didn’t care about governing. It was for the best not to show anything for now, they would see how worth and value later, by themselves.

Unexpectedly, the parade felt way shorter than their wedding’s one and less uncomfortable. The young Prince wondered if he had become used to all these traditions and show-off stuff… but this time, compared to his very first time he got carried that way around a town, he felt like he had found his niche. He was ten times more confident about his status and he could thank Minho for trusting him so blindly throughout the months.

However, he felt a small lump in his throat when they arrived at the gates of the manor and stopped. From afar, he saw Jinki step forwards and command Mongje’s sentries to open the doors to let his Royal Highnesses enter. The guards seemed perplexed, for this visit hadn’t been announced and manifestly wasn’t amicable. Not with such an escort. But he couldn’t refuse anything the General of the King asked ; he shouted to his fellows and the way to the manor opened.

“Send a page tell your masters that the King and Prince of Jinju have come for an audience.” Jinki told a sentry. “They will meet them immediately, by order of his Highness.”

Without protesting, the command was obeyed and in no time, the convoy walked forwards again, inside the manor’s frond yard. The latter was quite long, for the first independent rulers of Mongje had wanted to live far from the lively noises of population. It took them a few minutes to reach the small staircase that led to the house’s door, which opened almost at the same moment they arrived before it. 

Kibum flinched when his parents went out on the door step, obviously in a rush considering the announcement that had just been made. His mother was as austere as he had left her, still wearing her usual mourning clothes and her face betraying her shock to see her son again. However, the Prince didn’t recognize his father ; it was like he had grown ten years older, his features were drawn and his eyes tired. His salt-and-pepper hair were now almost completely grey, his usual presence vanished.

“My Lady, my Lord.” Jinki said loudly. “Show your respects to the Royal Couple of Jinju.”

Once he said these words, Kibum’s parents stood gain for a few seconds before respectfully bowing. When they straightened up, the porters put the chair on the floor and one of them helped Minho to step down first. This time, he had enhanced his usual royal attire with a cape that fell on his back until his ankles ; the inside was a slightly darker shade of red than his clothes, but the outside was gold, reflecting the sun behind him in a way that his head seemed surrounded by a halo of light. 

To his husband’s delight, he had refused the formal hat he was supposed to wear, to let his brown hair free, and the movement of his thick front bangs revealing the large yet subtle golden diadem encircling his head. For the first time in all his public appearances, he was wearing earrings that fell from his lobes to his jaw, golden as well but encrusted with thinly carved pearls that made his kingdom’s wealth and renown. Finally, around his right middle finger was a shining signet ring with the royal seal engraved in gold.

He hadn’t made more effort, for he knew he didn’t need more things to be recognized and respected, whatever the kingdom he visited. And more than that, he wanted to leave the spot for his husband to shine, especially here in Mongje ; Kibum had asked him to pull out all the stops, and the King hadn’t only accepted, he also had let him know he wouldn’t let him hidden in his shadow. He would let his Prince show himself as outstanding as he could be.

Still holding his head high and not sparing his parents-in-law a look for the time being, Minho skirted the chair and placed the footboard himself in front of his husband’s side of the transportation. With his habitual gallantry, he offered his hand to the still sitting man, who smiled to him before he slid his long fingers on the warm, soft palm. The King held them with care and started stepping backwards to lead his partner out of the chair, down the footboard until the bare ground. 

Once Kibum was standing on his two feet, two maids who had left their carriage walked to him and arranged his outfit. And indeed, he totally stole Minho’s spotlight when he came forwards to stand by his side, his hand still held by the other man at waist level between them. The look in his parents’ eyes changed, from their first shock to utmost surprise when they eventually considered him after staring at the King since their entrance. 

This time, the young Prince had had no intention to honor their host’s place by wearing its colours. He had chosen to wear what suited him best, bringing his own extra yet elegant touch to already rich clothes. He had brought his dark hair and light complexion out with an  all emerald green attire, for he knew it was the perfect colour for him to wear — and the one his husband preferred. Yet, this time, he had used their short three days of preparation to make it better.

The royal tailor had meticulously sewn golden filigree designs all along the outfit, curved lines with their ends drawing the pearls of Jinju. It looked simple at first sight, but one more thing had been sewn on the shoulders : a cape, way longer than the King’s, so long that it was falling like a river of emeralds and graciously ending like a train. But that wasn’t all : the cape itself was embroidered with countless tiny pearls that made it scintillate under the luminous shine of the setting sun.

To make sure this sumptuous part of his attire would remain visible, he had asked advices to the Queen Mother herself about how to wear his hair in a magnificent way that wouldn’t make him look like he was just copying a queen. That was why she had sent her two maids who were responsible for most of her formal hairstyles, to accompany him and honor her by dress her son-in-law’s hair. Thus, he had them styled in an extremely complexed chignon, ornamented with very special jewels that were made of small golden pins joined together by thin golden chains. 

As a surprise to honor his husband’s wish to show himself majestic, Minho had hired the royal blacksmith’s first apprentice to forge a golden tired, encrusted with pure emeralds shaped as diamonds. Kibum was wearing it in a way it was decorating the base of his chignon. To make a set, he was also wearing golden earrings with a tiny green stone on their exact center. And as his own final touch, the Prince had emphasized his long almond-shaped eyes with a thin trait of kohl.

He was transcendant, to the point he noticed his mother step forward to look at him as if she wanted to make sure such a magnificent person was her son. But he haughtily ignored her and looked at his father instead… almost getting startled by the sad smile he made out on the man’s lips. Never had Lord Taehyun of Mongje smiled at his only son, his strong charisma had always rested upon his undeniable authority and wish for perfection. Although that day, he seemed resigned. 

“Your Highness, this is a surprise.” Lady Eungyu eventually spoke as she bowed. “A pleasant surprise, naturally, to receive you in our humble house. Had I known about your visit, I would have arranged our most luxurious quarters to suit your Highness.”

“Your willing is appreciated, my Lady.” Minho replied. “However, our visit has nothing to do with pure courtesy from a son and a son-in-law to their parents. Your Grace ?”

“Our unexpected visit rests upon a politic matter that we should discuss immediately, without letting you consult your few ministers beforehand.” The Prince pursued. “Would you please escort us to the room where you grant audiences, for we do not want to waste our time with excessive and unnecessary compliments.”

“Y-Yes.”

As she threw daggers at her husband, Kibum’s mother cleared her throat and clapped her hands for a group of pages to lead the way to both sovereigns. The latter didn’t need to be asked twice as they entered the manor, side by side and Minho always stopping everyone with his arm to allow his partner to enter another room first, following him right after. In no time, they reach a quite large room that only had two huge chairs facing a tea table on a stage, and pillows on the floor for visitors to kneel or sit while asking their requests.

Naturally, both King and Prince ignored them and walked straight towards the seats, taking  their legitimate place. Swallowing with difficulty, Lady Eungyu stood straight with her husband next to her, both looking at these two figures of power and apprehending what would come next. Seeing their own son manifesting so much magnificence was troubling them, the woman seeming to be fuming.

“My Lord, my Lady.” Minho started, his voice loud and inspiring submission. “We will not beat around the bush : we have come unexpectedly to give you a chance to answer for a monstrous crime against the crown.”

“What are you saying, your Highness ?” His mother-in-law immediately choked. “A crime ?”

“Two, to be specific. I suffered two assassination attempts very recently, and if the first one was meant to raise our wrong suspicion about Baemyeong, we discovered through a thoughtful investigation that both assassins have been sent by order of Mongje.”

“With all due respect, your Highness, this can only be a mistake. We are ruling an independent province that is starting to financially struggle, due to the willing help we offered to your kingdom. We would definitely not have ways to pay anyone enough to murder someone as powerful as you.”

“So, you deny your implication in this extremely serious issue despite the proofs I could bring ?”

“Yes, your Highness. Mongje is innocent of any crime it is accused.”

“Dear ?”

“Certainly, my King.” Kibum hid a smile as he stood up, raising his hands towards the door to make Jinki and four soldiers lead Siyeon inside while protecting her. “Please let me introduce you to Lee Siyeon, the skilled young assassin who failed to assassinate both my husband and I a few nights ago.”

Lady Eungyu’s eyes became filled with a growing anger as she saw the girl, and she bit the inside of her cheeks when turning around to face the sovereigns again.

“She is an impostor, your Highness, we have never seen her before.” She affirmed. “Will you believe a commoner’s daughter instead of two persons from nobility ?”

“Are you sure you have never seen her before ?” The King repeated, his tone obviously implying that he had smelled a contradiction. 

“Yes, I swear it is the first time I see her. We receive commoners often here for random requests, so we tend to know everyone by now.”

“Then how do you know she is the daughter of a commoner ?”

The woman stuttered as she started to answer, looking around her at Siyeon, the guards, then the King and Prince again. When she saw the smile on her son’s lips, she couldn’t help but burst out.

“Say something !” She yelled at her husband. “Will you remain quiet while we’re being accused of attempted murder ?!”

“You suddenly seem in need of support, Mother.” Kibum calmly commented.

“What wife wouldn’t need a husband’s support ?! This is fraud ! You, just talk, by the Gods !”

“Do you think it is reasonable to shout that way in front of our sovereigns ?” Lord Taehyun eventually answered. “Do you think their suspicions will reduce by looking at you losing your temper ?”

“How dare you ! It was you, right ? You sent those assassins because all you care about is power ! Power, power, and always power !”

“Your Highness, your Grace.” The man ignored his wife and looked straight into the eyes of his son. “We will show ourselves law abiding about all your questions regarding these crimes. However, we would like, according to our rights, to request for a trial as tomorrow’s first thing.”

“Very well, my Lord.” The King agreed. “Still, this trial will happen in the way I decide : starting this moment, the manor and Mongje are under my authority. For the time you will be accused of attempted murder, you will have no right to communicate with your wife or with anyone else. You will thus be confined in your respective quarters, guarded by my own soldiers until the trial. Do you agree with this ?”

“Yes, your Highness.”

“What ?! Taehyun !”

Before Kibum’s mother could throw a stronger outburst of anger, Lord Taehyun bowed to Minho and Kibum, and turned away to let the royal guards escort him to his quarters as announced. Lady Eungyu protested at first, screaming to imposture and scheme. When they were both out of sight, the Prince allowed himself to sigh deeply and lean on to take his face in his hand. Looking at him, Minho smiled and caressed his back.

“You know when you’re a teenager and your parents scold you in front of a friend of yours ?” The oldest man asked. “You feel ashamed, right ?”

“Sure, the biggest shame ever.” His husband replied.

“Well, it’s nothing next to the shame I’m feeling right now. She rarely throws fits like this but when she does… you saw.”

“I was surprised, though. She was really aggressive and even shouted at your father, but him… he was calm and quiet.”

“Yes, Father was… different. In a general way, I mean. It’s like he lost all his presence, all his power. How old do you think he is ?”

“Looking at him today, I would say sixty.”

“He’s turning forty-eight in five months.”

“You’re kidding ?”

“I wish I was. There is something wrong, he’s not the father I used to live with. We haven’t been in good terms all my life but this… this is not normal.”

Minho looked at his husband, not knowing what to answer. He could clearly see how Kibum seemed troubled by his father’s attitude, which was so different from everything he had seen throughout his childhood and teenage years. When they had exchanged about each other’s lives and families, both sovereigns had mentioned their respective parents’ behaviour and personality, and the King remembered how he had learned about the Lord of Mongje being someone virulent and with a certain attraction for power.

But he had found himself dumbfounded when seeing such a quiet person, almost reserved and looking quite submissive to his wife. The latter was his complete opposite and fit more the description the Prince had given from his dad… this sudden turnaround was bringing a new light on this issue. But they would have to wait for the trial to verify their thoughts.

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A few hours later, Minho was walking in the manor with Jinki, who was reporting to him about the confinement of his parents-in-law. Although Lady Eungyu had shown herself vehement at first, she had eventually accepted the command and was now in her quarters with no one else but a maid — the King couldn’t refuse that. On the other side, Lord Taehyun had almost left his escort behind by heading to his room voluntarily and without being asked twice.

It was now time for the sovereign of Jinju to take a good rest after both a long journey and the audience right after their arrival. Their goal had been reached : they had hit their mark with their clothes and presence, and Kibum had shown his parents how he had reborn since his leaving. The General notified his friend than before going to visit his family, Jonghyun had confessed to him that he had never seen such expression in the Lord and Lady’s eyes when looking at their son before.

If there was admiration, the woman had still a glint of frustration shining in her irises, for it wasn’t this child of hers that she would have liked to see in such a position. Her husband, though, was giving the teacher a hard time ; he couldn’t figure him out as easily as usual, with this quite surprising attitude. Minho took notes of this information, assuming that if both his Prince and the blonde man struggled to recognize Lord Taehyun in the person they had had before their eyes earlier, there must definitely be a mystery to resolve.

As he wished a good night to his General, the King asked guards if they had seen his husband somewhere around or if he had gone to sleep already. He was immediately guided to the back yard which was made of the manor’s gardens and the vault where Kibum’s late ancestors were lying. Thanking his informers, the tall man headed to the shown direction and noticed how a tiny part of the garden was full of Kibum’s favorite flowers — surprising, why would his mother grow them, considering her lack of affection for her son ?

He was about to enter the vault when he caught a glimpse of an emerald train behind it. Frowning, he skirted the monument and found his husband offering him his back, standing with his hands on his stomach, head lowered and eyes closed. Slowly, Minho approached him and stood by his side without disturbing him ; the Prince was communing with himself before a recent tomb, beautifully covered with different sorts of white flowers.

It could only be his sister’s grave.

Without a word, he let the other man peacefully reminisce this close member of his family while himself looked at the tea table placed in front of the tomb. Incense sticks were slowly burning in a bowl, resting next to a portrait of Kim Haneul. The more he observed her well drawn features, the more he understood why his husband always said he looked like a less perfect version of his older sister.

She was as beautiful as him, though her features were thiner, but their eyes and lips were shaped exactly the same way. It was surprising but sent a strangely familiar impression that tended to warm Minho’s heart. 

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she ?” Kibum’s voice drew him out of his reflection.

“Yes, really beautiful.” The other man replied with honesty. “You look alike so much it startled me.”

“Our faces are almost the same, yes, though I’ve always been considered the less pretty. Only our nanny didn’t make us compete about our looks like our mother did. I remember she felt sad that I was always told that my sister was more beautiful than me, and she invented a bedtime story for me to never feel unworthy despite the harsh words I could hear.”

“She created a story just for you ? She’s sweet.”

“Yes, she was the sweetest woman, after Haneul. The story she told me was about a female duck who laid seven eggs, but when the little duckings escape their shell, one of them didn’t look like the other. It was all grey, with tousled feathers and clumsy feet, it really was an ugly ducking. Its mother and siblings still took it with them but they weren’t really affectionate, and the poor thing kept being rejected, even by other birds that sometimes hit it with their beak.”

“A strange story.”

“It’s not over. The ugly ducking was unhappy, it felt awfully different and was resigned that he wouldn’t find its place in the world. This was until a storm happened and it got separated from its family, the river’s flow taking it away. The next morning, when rain stopped, it was alone on the bank and felt even sadder… but its cries lured a splendid swan that immediately embraced it when finding it. It happened that the ugly ducking was in reality a baby swan, its egg had been moved from its nest to the duck’s. As soon as it found its real family again, it realized his worth and grew up to become the most beautiful swan of the area.”

“That’s beautiful, and to think she created only for you to not think you were an ugly ducking is lovely.”

“Yes… I was thinking about it right now because my sister loved it as well, although it wasn’t for her. And somehow, I have the feeling that the ugly ducking I once felt I was, has become a swan by staying by your side.”

“The most gracious and gentle swan ever.”

With a smile, Minho pressed his lips against his husband’s temple, the latter smiling in return and nestling against the other man’s chest. They remained a few minutes before the grave, Kibum comfortably telling some stories about his sister and him, when they were interrupted by a soldier. As they turned around to look at him, they got startled by the man accompanying him : Lord Taehyun.

“How did you escape my guards’ surveillance ?” The King frowned. “You shouldn’t be here, you showed yourself willing to respect my rules earlier and here I find you outside your quarters by night.”

“I know my own house better than your guards, your Highness.” The man replied, his tone still as calm as during the audience. “Be reassured, they have no idea that I am not in my quarters anymore.”

“A secret passage…” The Prince whispered before raising his voice. “Why are you here, Father ?”

“I wanted to do something good for once in my life, because I am tired.”

“What…?”

Kibum’s eyebrows furrowed and he observed his father’s features, widening his eyes with surprise when he noticed this sad smile again… and tired, shining eyes.

“My son, you grew up well.” Lord Taehyun said. “It is not thanks to me, and I came to regret it as soon as I watched you leave home, a few months ago. But from what I saw, you became an even more impressive person than I thought you would.”

“Father…” The Prince stuttered. “Why are you saying this now ? If it’s a way to move me before your trial, it won’t work. I’m not as weak with my emotions as before.”

“My intentions are pure, son, and I feel beyond apologetic that you had to come with such news for me to realise my wrong actions as a father. I’ve been a wrong parent to you, but I want you to know that it was all against my will.”

“I beg your pardon ?”

With a sigh, the elder man joined his hands together on his chest before he approached his son. Instinctively, Minho stepped forwards but his husband raised his hand to stop him, staring at his father.

“Explain yourself.” He commanded. “Enough of lies.”

“Yes, enough of lies.” His father replied, meeting his eyes. “I would never lie to you while standing before my daughter’s grave.”

“Please, talk…”

“I owe you the truth, and I wanted to say it before the trial but not in your mother’s presence. It is a good thing that I find your with his Highness, because there are too many lies remaining in this place… and I’m tired of carrying their weight alone on my shoulders, I can’t handle them anymore.”

“I am listening, my Lord.” The King nodded, even more troubled than before as he could sense the other man’s sincerity in his wish to confess so many things.

“I am not the descendant of Mongje’s rulers’s line.” Taehyun sighed again and looked at his son. “We made everyone believe it at the time, but the truth is, I have been raised by your grandfather like his own son.”

“My grandfather ?” Kibum repeated. “But I only have one, Mother’s father. You told me your parents had died.”

“Yes, they had, when I was a young boy. But they were your grandparents’ closest friends, members of the highest family in our province… the real heiress is your mother, and our wedding had been arranged before we could even walk.”

“What does it mean…”

“It means that all the power I was pretending to chase, all that violence I showed to base my authority… it wasn’t my choice. But your mother wanted to grow her power as the heiress in silence. At first she didn’t care about all of this, it changed when your sister was born : she had given birth to another heiress, that’s when she started seeking for even more power through me.”

“What changed ?” Minho asked, feeling that a plot twist was about to happen.

“Kibum’s birth. According to Mongje’s laws, if the ruling family has only one child, they will rule whatever their sex is. But as long as there is a son, eldest or not, he becomes the heir. And your mother didn’t accept that, she wanted Haneul to be the next ruler, not you.”

“But mother never stuck her nose in Mongje’s affairs…” The Prince protested, dumbfounded. “She hated politics, she was always leaving everything to you, to the point you never had time for us ! And the few moments we spent together, you were… you weren’t a gentle father. What is the reason behind that, then ?”

“I would have loved to be that gentle father you wanted, Kibum. But… I made a mistake that gave your mother enough control over me to use me as her muppet. I was threatened.”

“What did she use against you, my Lord ?” The King asked. “It could be a real proof in our own issue.”

“I will tell this in good time, tomorrow during the trial. I’ve seen my son on a throne today, and the strength, the courage he showed made me feel ridiculous, a coward. That’s what I’ve been for so many years, a coward that has fallen into an evil woman’s clutches. She has done everything in secret, she had hidden so many things from you… and I will be able to prove later that she is the perpetrator of your attempted assassination, your Highness.”

“Then, why coming now if you are going to reveal everything tomorrow ? It makes no sense.” 

“Because… because I wanted to show you something, something I don’t want to hide anymore. That’s the only secret I have, the only one I managed to keep from your mother. Something she doesn’t know, and that will help you tomorrow to show her real self. I hid it from her instead of getting rid of it like she commanded me to.”

“Show us immediately.”

The tension in the back yard was growing, but Lord Taehyun didn’t need to be asked twice ; he asked the sovereigns to follow him and even told them to bring as many guards as they want to prove his good faith. He then led them to the front door, heading out of the manor’s area to walk through the town’s streets. Fortunately, no soul could be seen at that hour, and their late walk went unnoticed.

After a few minutes, they stopped in front of a small house that seemed completely common. Minho and Kibum looked at the elder man while the latter approached the door and hit four times against the wood… with an original rhythm. It was a code, as to notify the person living here that it was him coming and no one else. This already looked quite strange and only made the atmosphere grow more tensed. After a few seconds of silence, the door was opened to reveal a familiar silhouette, that made Kibum gasp.

“Nanny ?” He asked, in disbelief when he recognized the gentle features of the now sexagenarian woman. “I thought you had left the province years ago ? What is all of this ?”

“I did, my boy…” The old woman replied. “Look at how grown up you are… I am so relieved to see you healthy after so many years.”

“Son, your nanny indeed left, but I made her come back.” Lord Taehyun explained. “I needed her because she took good care of your sister and you, and she has my full trust.”

“Is it the day, my Lord…?” 

“Yes, it has come. Can we enter ?”

“Naturally, please come.”

Despite their heart urging them to run inside and discover what was being hidden from them, both Minho and Kibum waited for their elders to enter and followed them inside. When the door was closed behind them, the nanny led them through the living space, until a small room without any door, the inside only hidden with a thick curtain.

“I must warn you, she’s asleep for now and we shouldn’t wake her up.”

The woman’s words achieved to kill the Prince’s last ounce of patience ; as soon as she lifted the curtain, he headed inside first, followed by his husband and father. And what he saw rooted him to the spot. There, in the obscurity of the small room, was a crib. Because fo the silence that had fallen on them, they could all hear the almost imperceptible breathing of the small being that was fast asleep with a sheet on the tiny body.

A baby.

“Who… Who is that ?” Kibum managed to ask although his voice didn’t leave his throat, his words coming out in a whisper.

“That, my son…” his father answered, “is your niece. She came to this world on the day your sister left it.”

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