#then next thing I know leif almost dies???.?

[hana-bobo-finch]

BUG FABLES CHAPTER 4

[kiwibirb1]

Okay so what do you get when you combine a amphiba fixation and Ocarina of Time? A half-baked AU where instead of amphiba the girls ended up in OoT era Hyrule and the calamity gems are the spiritual stones.

No seriously the colors are like perfect. More details (like a lot more be warned) under the cut because I have a feeling I'll ramble.

Okay, first Marcy. She ends up in Kokiri forest, and immediately gets sidetracked by studying the Kokiri's biology and shit. Wit gem is now Kokiri Emerald. Has roughly the same relationship with Deku Tree as she does with Andrias, but no manipulation!! Wooo! Would be hilarious if she ended up in Link's role, but I have this idea of she lands there like 3 years before the events of OoT, so Link is just a little baby gremlin. Oooo she could be the one to teach him basic moves she copies from the Vagabondia games. Doesn't go and find her girls like immediately beacuse Kokiri do the whole "Everyone who leaves DIES" and she doesn't think to check this with the Deku Tree (who would tell her that's just kokiri she'll be fine). Gets lost in the Lost Woods a LOT. But makes new friends in the skull kids, so there's that!

Next up... Sasha! Strength here ends up with the big, burly gorons! Manages to build up a high temperature tolerance but still can't handle mild spice lol. Strength gem replaced by Goron Ruby, yada yada. I haven't made it far enough into OoT to see if sumo wresting comes up there, but even if it does, I'm taking it and saying she introduces them to it. Has the Biggoron sword wayyy early because she helped the dude make it and got impatient. (Link still gets it because the girls made it home by the time of his adventure, but even though it's made already, he doesn't get it till adult.) Doesn't leave immediately because uhhh rockfall! Yeah rocks blocked the way out of Death Mountain for a while. Has a Grime-ish relationship with Darunia but no jail time and less toxic on both sides. He's still like father figure but more chill.

Finally, Anne! Ends up with the Zora, and fends off flirting from Ruto (who is like seven, why is this seven year old so horny?) while learning to swim. Heart gem is Zora sapphire, you know the drill. Oooooo wait gotta figure out how that works with the box uhhh, time travel shit idk. Leaves for Castle Town almost immediately (like stays in zoras domain for like two weeks) and gets lost. Finds her way to Lon Lon Ranch and BAM found family trope betcha didn't see that coming, huh? So yeah she stays at Ranch for a while helping out, getting a new sister, taming horses. Eventually leaves for Castle Town with her own horse, where she manages to get an audience with the king. King agrees to help her find her friends if she babysits Lil Zel. (yeah sure trust the random stranger with the two year old princess that is VERY KIDNAPPABLE(Impa does not agree but eventually grows to like Anne))

The music box! I realized that it uh needed some revamps to fit so section for it now! Okay, so due to time travel shit the stones are in the music box but are also ancient artifacts of the regions. Basically music box ends up in earth because not Leif uhhh (I probably should finish OoT first huh) but yeah girls do the whole woosh thing but the stones get separated and end up in their respective regions like 100 years before the girls go. So they're still like the regions things. Since time travel they're colored and charged, BUT when the girls get there, they suddenly uncharge and go gray because now the times are synced up and stuff. This is how girls find the correlation and then plot and junk.

I have so many thoughts for this i will not be getting sleep tonight. I will also probably infodump more about this, so yayyyy

[feastfic]

On my computer right now and I just spent like, I think maybe only an hour on this??? 

But hi!!! I wrote a thing! And I really want to say things about what inspired me to do this and why I thought of this, so if you wanna know please lmk! (Please I really wanna talk about this AU digjasobjn)

So since this took less than an hour and it’s currently almost two in the morning for me (and I took my sleeping meds) this is probably rushed and doesn’t have as much going for it as I wanted, so please keep that in mind!

This will be under the cut for spoilers, and tw in advance for implied/mentioned murder. Also wildly out of character behavior but it makes sense in the context of the AU I promise; but enough of me going on. Here it is!

He was just… mad these days. Well, not mad. But certainly unhappy. Upset, maybe, was the best word to use.

Ever since he and the rest of Team Snakemouth left the Swamps, he seemed a different bug. Ever since he’d killed The Beast- a rightful act of revenge, of vengeance for his previous friends- he was bitter.

He didn’t even quite know why he felt this way. Kabbu couldn’t tell if it was a new onset grief for losing his team, rage at The Beast, fear of losing the people he currently cared about. There was so much to feel about, and not enough of him to contain all of these feelings.

So he just decided not to contain it. Not around Leif or Vi, of course. There was no way he’d expressly show them how he felt. Not when these feelings were so destructive, so unlike how he normally was. Kabbu was not a bug to hate easily or quickly. But he had a feeling that that was what was going on. He hated- no, loathed; utterly despised this feeling. He wanted, needed to take it out somehow.

He didn’t seem to care about much anymore. His fighting skill wasn’t any better or worse off, but both Leif and Vi knew something was up. Other bugs that the team had previously encountered also could tell very easily that something was up with the typically gentle beetle.

Where he was once careful in battle, he was no longer. His caution was thrown to the wind, it felt like. More nicks and scratches collected themselves on his body, not out of the battles he’d won, but just out of his lack of self-preservation.

“What is up with you lately?” Vi popped the question as they took residence in the hotel underneath the termites’ dome. “Ever since we left that swamp you’ve been acting all weird.” Even her normally sarcastic tone was tinged with real and genuine concern. Not that she’d ever say that she cared any time soon, of course.

Kabbu gave her a side-eyed look, his arms held crossed as he leaned forward on the leaf bed he got when the room was rented out. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He stated bluntly, his gaze focusing on the bee on the bed right across from him. Behind her was Leif, silently watching the two of them talk. The moth had gotten quieter since the swamps, too.

“You’ve been all… all- I don’t know! You just haven’t been yourself and there’s no reason for it, Kabbu!”

“We agree with Vi. You’ve had a big change in character.” Leif said, quiet but as direct as ever.

With both of them on his case, there wasn’t a lot that Kabbu could say. He didn’t want their sympathy, he didn’t want them worrying about him. How could he ever tell them that he didn’t know if he even wanted to be part of the team anymore? Well, he didn’t have to. And, well… he could always just leave out of nowhere. Not that he was thinking of doing that.

He waited until the lights of the dome dimmed- the termites were going to rest as well now. To his side, he heard Vi’s soft snoring, but had to sit to make sure Leif was asleep too. It was a good thing he was, or else this would get awkward and stressful fast. 

There was nothing he chose to bring along. Except for the explorer badge that he and Vi got on their first day as an official team. It’d be only Vi now, but she had Leif. They’d be like every other team- a party of two, instead of their devious three. And that was it- he was never the item carrier; the bag with all of their things always went to Vi, where she’d protect their belongings as valiantly as she could. So the badge was just another thing that she’d keep.

Well, that was basically it now. Bringing along nothing with his person, Kabbu slipped out of the room in silence. He took the elevator back down to the ground floor, leaving for the great doors that had welcomed him into the dome just yesterday. The guards there of course asked him about his intentions and why he was leaving- alone especially- but he just coated his answer with a white lie.

“I’m only going to take the ant tunnel. It isn’t far from these gates.”

The two termites glanced at each other, their antennae twitching between one another like they were exchanging a telepathic message.

“Well,” one began, before letting out a sigh; “alright, but just go to that tunnel, alright? We don’t need any of those Farland beasts coming through. I’m sure you understand.”

“I do; don’t you worry.” 

The other guard worked the mechanism that opened the gate. Not all the way, only just enough to let Kabbu step through. When he entered the foggy abyss of the Forsaken Lands, the gate clanked shut behind him not long after. He nearly disappeared into the pressing grey surrounding him, so much so that he could barely even see the two termites standing watch outside their kingdom. That was certainly a good thing for him, at least.

He wasn’t going to the tunnels. What he needed was time to himself. Figure out what he was going to do now. Because leaving the team was sort of a big deal, even if he’d been considering it for a while. 

In theory he could join something like the bandits, or stake off for himself somewhere out in the wilds. No, the bandit idea wouldn’t work- they’d recognize him, even if that Astotheles character gave them heed about his defeat to Team Snakemouth before his disappearance. And while he could just live off in nowhere, that wasn’t the life he wanted to live now.

What he wanted was to make a big change. Something that’d get the attention of everyone. With the Wasp King being under high pursuits and being a bigger threat, he could get away with many more things. But what? What was there that he could do? He just wanted to break something, really. He wanted to do something to take out the way he felt so crushed about everything that happened in the swampy grasslands. Let everyone know what The Beast did to him.

By doing the same thing to everyone else. 

He looked down at his carapace in the deep fog, turning over his arms to look at all of the scratches that would remain on him either until he died, or until his next molt. But he was an aged man- he hadn’t molted in forever; not since he was much younger. These scars might as well be permanent, then. All of these would bear witness to whatever he decided on doing.

Oh, did he know it was wrong. He hated himself for it. Hurting innocent bugs was still something he didn’t want to do from the bottom of his heart. It wasn’t that he felt that it was all he could do though, but it was the thing he wanted to do most. He was scared. Both of the possibility of his actions, himself, and if he’d be caught. 

Fear. 

It was what he was going to make everyone else feel.

The same suffocating, horrible, gut-wrenching fear he once felt.

If he couldn’t bring himself to be the grand hero that everyone held Team Snakemouth up to be, then he simply wouldn’t. He was no team leader, he was no Green Ranger. He was Kabbu, damned.

If he was so sure of this course of action, he’d become someone like who he was once fighting against. 

The wasps were the enemy, or perhaps once were. He’d start there. Keep the pretense of doing good.

Those troopers wouldn’t know what hit them, or any of the other damned… things he’d sparred with. 

Oh, no. He wasn’t going to stop there. He just needed a gateway. Surely he wouldn’t feel bad about hurting a few of those folk. He’d work his way up; he just needed a way to get his initial anger out is all. It just so happened that a certain kingdom worked in his favor as a target.

He’d go from revered to hated, to where bugs would fear to speak his name for the things he’d done. Where exterminating a few wasps would first be looked up upon by other kingdoms, when the numbers began stacking higher and higher concerns would rise. Nobody would know it was him, not for a very, very long time.

From hero, to anti-hero, to villain.

He’d be a bad guy if it meant he didn’t have to live in guilt and sorrow for his own past. 

Only he mattered to himself now, and he was going to make sure that nobody got in his way or tried to change this path he was choosing. 

He walked further in the fog, until all he could make out of his surroundings were the cracks in the rock beneath his feet. This would be a long path for himself. 

Many countless nights full of himself hating himself, nights where he thought this was the best idea he’d ever had. Nights where he cried, where he laughed to himself. Going from his past self to whatever he’d be called was nothing easy.

But time passed. Days turned to weeks, which turned to months. He was only a fraction of his former self. Down the line he’d forgotten most of what inspired him to go on this outburst, but there was no turning back now. He’d abandoned his humanity just a month ago- these past thirty days were the easiest he’d had in what felt like years. 

And there was no telltale signs about Leif or Vi ever since he left. He’d heard of the talk when he first left; he entered towns from time to time cloaked in leaves and scraps of fabric bugs left about, shielding himself from observant eyes. People wondered what could’ve possibly happened.

They weren’t finding out any time soon.

At least, not from him. He was a little busy with… other things.

Which reminded him, as he sat alone in a small pub off the center of Defiant Root. The bar was a common ground for other bugs in shady business, so Kabbu fit right in. Ironic. But that was besides the point.

He didn’t like calling his craft murder. Nor assassination, or anything like that. But terms meant nothing when anyone else would know what it was called. What he was doing was never anything he’d thought he’d be able to do, but as it turned out, dealing with crippling survivor’s guilt and other feelings for so long made you numbed out to such things like death.

There was no joy out of it, but he didn’t do it just to do it. There was still the motive of fearmongering. He just didn’t know how far he’d take it.

Well, he’d find out in a week.

Because on his marks right now was a certain general. That’d surely get people to talk.

[barbaracleboy]

Can’t Come Back

Another kinda angsty blurb thing. I dunno, I want to write and draw comedy most of the time but sometimes the odd sad idea pops into my old noodle. Also, Spoilers for Leif’s Request.

Leif woke up, and he was laying in some grass, though that was the extent of his knowledge on his location.

Leif: Kabbu!? Vi!? Chompy!?

Leif looked around desperately for his team, but found them nowhere. Something he did find, however, was a small pond close to him. He briefly saw something red in the pond as he scanned the area, but he snapped his attention back to it upon realizing what he might have just seen.

Leif looked into the pond, and noticed the strangest thing in his reflection: his eyes were brown, rather than the blank white he’d known them to be for so long. What’s more, his wings and carapace were a warm, wood-like red, instead of a cool, icy blue. Leif just stared at his reflection for a while, to the point you’d be forgiven for thinking he was some sort of narcissist. Leif didn’t quite feel love for himself as he stared, though. Rather, he felt a sort of peculiar mix of familiarity and unfamiliarity, like he had come across a long lost twin.

Leif: W-what?...We...

With too many thoughts going through his head Leif just looks around the area again, the thoughts of his team being much less prominent now: instead, Leif was just wondering what the hell happened to him. While looking around Leif noticed something else familiar: he saw the Anthill Palace. He was close to the Ant Kingdom. Now Leif wondered about something else...

Leif ran to the Ant Kingdom Plaza and dashed through, past various bugs, many of which looked to him with pure shock. He didn’t greet any of them, he didn’t stop to answer their questions. One bug in particular was on his mind, and he needed to make sure if she was there. Leif ran until he reached a quaint wooden house. It was in the same spot he remembered Muze’s home being, but he knew exactly who this home belonged to.

Leif: I’m home...

With no hesitation this time, Leif knocked on the door of the house. A voice responded, but it didn’t sound willing to open.

???: I-I’m sorry, can you please come back later?

Leif has heard this voice before. He knew exactly who it belonged to. Even harder, Leif knocked on the door.

???: Please, I asked you to come back later...

Leif was feeling saddened, but he refused to leave. Once more he knocked on the door, and this time heard it opening.

Pink Moth: Listen, jackass, I said-

It was Muse. Leif didn’t think he’d ever see her again, but he knew it was her. It was Muse, his wife...a great, powerful Moth to whom he was closer than any other bug. It looked just like her, and her attitude when opening the door was just as rude as how he saw her half the time. The other half she was cheerful, of course, but somehow he found-

Muse kneed Leif in the groin and yanked his face towards hers by his fluff.

Muse: WHERE THE FUCK WERE YOU!?!?!?!?!

Leif: (Weakly) It is so nice to see you again...

Muse: THAT WASN’T WHAT I ASKED, MOTHERFUCKER, IF YOU COULD HAVE JUST FUCKING COME HOME WHY DIDN’T YOU!?!?!? I THOUGHT YOU DIED!!!!!!!

Leif: Me too...

Muse: WHAT!?!

Leif: Forgive me, your majesty, but may I come inside, get something to eat or drink? Maybe then I can, er, attempt to explain things.

Muse almost couldn’t believe it: not just that Leif was alive, but that he had the gall to crack jokes despite her concern. She wasn’t too shocked, though: she knew him pretty well. Still gripping Leif’s neck fluff, Muse pulled him into the house as he closed the door behind them.

Muse forced her husband into a nearby chair before she looked into his eyes with a fiery intensity.

Muse: When me and Rebecca left Snakemouth, we last saw you cornered by a Spider, just about dead. Why are you here now?

Leif: Listen, I genuinely don’t know why.

Muse: The hell kind of explanation is that!?

Leif: It is so, so complicated of a story, I’m not sure I can really get through it all.

Muse: You’d better try, or else-

Leif: Or else what, you’ll beat me up? You really think I’d take that as a punishment?

Muse just stood there for a moment, trembling with rage. After a few moments tears began to flow from her eyes and her fury-filled expression turned to one of relief. She almost tackled Leif and gave him the sweetest hug she ever had, unusually careful and light.

Muse: I-I missed the crap you’d spew so much...

Leif was happy to be so close to Muse again. She was crying, but that was fine. They were together again, and he knew deep down, that they could do great things together...He knew that he should get to explaining his situation soon, it could make things easier...

The two Moths stopped when they heard the sound of a nearby hungry larva. They were so focused on each other that Muse had forgotten of it, and Leif had failed to notice.

Leif: Hey, is that ours?

Muse:...

Leif:...When’d you have him?

Muse:...I laid his egg shortly before we left for Snakemouth...

Leif: What? Why didn’t you say anything?

Muse: I wanted to surprise you. I wanted to come back from our mission and...

Suddenly, Muse was angry once more. As she picked up her baby she stared daggers at Leif.

Muse: Why did you leave us?

Leif: Wha-I-I didn’t try to! Things just...happened...it’s funny, isn’t it? How things just kind of happen? Of all the great things that happen, often due to mistakes?

Muse: I didn’t ask for philosophy, Leif.

Leif: Heh, we...I-I know.

Leif looked to his and Muse’s child. It was small, but it was to be a Moth one day. What great potential it has...what...

Leif was still feeling odd. His mind was still racing, he still had so many thoughts. Before Muse could ask what in the world he meant by “We”, the two of them heard another bug coming down the stairs.

Muse: Rebecca? I thought you were sleeping?

Rebecca: Yeah, but I heard you yell...Leif?

Leif: Rebecca...

Leif stared at her for a moment. The Ant he had known for a while as short, old, and blissful was now looking taller, younger, and more stern. She even had a belt and scabbard around her waist, this Rebecca was clearly more active than the one he had become accustomed to. One trait remained between the two forms he knew her in, though...

Leif: Your arm...

Rebecca looked to her missing limb. The wound was still relatively fresh. It still hurt. Leif knew that fighting was harder for her now...

Rebecca: Mm. I don’t really care, I’d rather lose a limb that I liked than a whole bug...

Rebecca looked to Muse a moment, the two of them sharing concern.

Rebecca:...Speaking of which...(Looks to Leif) What happened? We all presumed you were dead.

Leif: All?

Rebecca: You think the Queen could send a scouting party, have only two-thirds of them come back, and nobody would care? Guard around Snakemouth was expanded heavily afterwards, it was made completely off-limits to anybody without explicit permission from the Queen...And she personally held a funeral for you...

Leif didn’t realize just how much of an effect his disappearance had. Clearly the bugs around here liked him, cared for him...they probably trusted him...Leif began to feel a bit of uneasiness inside of himself, but he knew it was fine. It was normal. It was what he was made for...

Leif: Ha...can’t believe you guys all cared for me so much...I’m so lucky to have made it back.

Muse: We’re lucky that you made it back, Leif.

Rebecca: You’re gonna be a big deal, I can tell: You beat death!

Leif: We didn’t do it alone, Rebecca...

Muse: You said “We” again, what’s wrong with you?

Leif:...There’s nothing wrong with us, love...let us show you what this pathetic, insectoid body has been blessed with...

Before Muse and Rebecca could question Leif’s strange words, he turned to them...and pale white stalks started bursting out of him, all over him. Muse clutched her larva hard and fell to the floor, screaming as her beloved seemingly died before her eyes once more.

Leif: This is good, Muse...we now have such power, such life...let us share it with you...

Leif began walking towards Muse, his stalks squirming all around, but before he could get very close Rebecca unsheathed her blade and swung at him...

Leif awoke with a shout, and was left panting and sweating as he collected his thoughts. He looked to his hands and found them to be blue, as usual...

His teammates were awake as well, no doubt because of him. As Chompy tried getting up to Leif, full of concern, Vi just grumbled at him.

Vi: Ughhhh, what the hell’s wrong with you?

Leif: W-we’re sorry...just had a bad dream...

Kabbu: Would you like to talk about it? Mayhaps that can help you feel better?

Leif:...Look, i-it’s fine. We don’t need to talk, it’s...nothing we haven’t said before

Vi: Then why’d you have to wake me up, dummy?

Kabbu: Vi!

Vi: Ugh...look, Leif. You’re fine. I know you’re like, all weird. I don’t really understand it that much, but worrying so much about stuff none of us can control won’t make you not weird, and it obviously won’t make you feel good either. The life you got now is all special and junk, rather than crying over stuff from the past and thinking “what if this, what if that???”, just think about what you know you can do. Think about what you’re gonna try to do, think about the good stuff you did, and think about all the stuff you can do things about. You can make your new life good and yours, so do it.

Kabbu:...

Leif:...

Vi: Did that help?

Leif:...A little, probably. Thanks.

Vi: Yeah, whatever, I’m going back to sleep, wake me again and I’ll punch you.

Kabbu: (Sigh) I pray you rest easy, friend.

Leif: Thanks, Kabbu.

Chompy has now successfully reached Leif’s bunk, and she rubs her head all over his fluff. Leif chuckles a bit before petting her a little.

Leif: Thank you too, girl...

Chompy curls up next to Leif and gets to sleeping herself. Leif lays in his bed for a moment, his head yet again racing with thoughts. He thinks about his dream, Vi’s words, what he is...It’s all so complicated, but maybe Vi’s (perhaps overly simple ) talk could be what he needed? Vi’s not the sharpest knife in the drawer but she isn’t the dullest either...Whatever the case, Leif slowly shuts his eyes and drifts back to sleep...

[feistypaants-archived]

Between The Pipes [Chapter 7]

Rating: M Words: 2060 Pairing: Kristanna Summary: When a new owner takes over the Arendelle Ice Breakers, Kristoff isn’t sure about his future with the team. That is, until a PR nightmare throws the newest member of the media team, who also just so happens to be the daughter of the new owner, right into his arms. Kristoff and Anna can’t even stand the interviews they have to do together… how on earth are they going to fix this mess? Hockey!AU.

[Chapter Index]

Where To Read: [AO3]

Notes: hopefully kristoff is a bit more sympathetic in this one lmao. He was a massive dick in the last chapter, but he just is dumb and doesn’t know how to handle himself. Sooooo anyway. :^) 

Enjoy!

Why couldn’t he stop doing that?

Kristoff sat for almost two hours, wondering if she would come back, and not wanting to be the dick who left her stranded if she did. He figured it was the least he could do, considering how he spoke to her. 

Why couldn’t he stop doing that?

It wasn’t like she had done anything, and he had genuinely gone into this lunch with the mindset to be nice . But he didn’t expect her to start trying to get to know him or put him on the spot. He felt his whole body tense with the desire to stay hidden, stay secretive, to make sure that she knew as little about him as possible. Something deep inside of him was wailing to get out and open up. He let something slip. He mentioned his father . The only person who knew about his father was Sven. 

Sven and his real parents. The ones who took him in when his father was too busy playing hockey to care about his young son.

He wasn’t ready for her to know about it. He wasn’t ready for the media to know about it.

He wasn’t ready for the media to know that he was the son of Leif Sørensen, a powerful defenseman in the Super League who was more focused on making it to the NHL than caring about his family. Leif Sørensen, who wanted nothing more than to be the best player in the world and didn’t care when his wife left him and his newborn baby. Leif Sørensen, who would leave his son alone for weeks on end and didn’t even seem to mind when his child got taken away and was sent to live with a new family.

Leif Sørensen, who died young from a heart attack, who never made it where he wanted to, who practically sighed with relief when his son was adopted officially and moved to America.

Kristoff wished every day that his father could see him now - wished that his father knew that his son accomplished what he couldn’t.

But he didn’t want anyone else to know about it.

So when he slipped, mentioned the tiniest little thing about it, he panicked. He threw on the worst attitude he could muster and shut her down. 

But she kept poking at him, wiggling her way into the tiniest crack he had shown, getting deeper and deeper under his skin. That was when he had to shut it down. He had learned from the best how to drive people away. As much as it panicked him, it helped that she did what he suspected she would and threatened to tell her father about it.

Spoiled little rich girl.

He sighed and finally stood, checking how much Anna had left and decided it was only right to try and give it back to her. It wasn’t her fault that this went to shit.

Sven was going to have his head.

—

“What the hell is wrong with you!?”

Kristoff tried his best not to wince when Sven actually punched him in the arm. He deserved it, he knew, and just let Sven continue on his rampage. His cheeks were red, brows low and eyes narrowed as he practically bared his teeth, ready to attack. “She was just trying to get to know you, was just trying to be nice and what did you do? You’re a complete asshole .” 

Sven leaned back, arms crossed over his chest as Kristoff tensed under his glare. He mumbled out something that he knew his captain wouldn’t hear, and grimaced when he felt Sven’s fist collide with his shoulder again. “I’m sorry!”

“No use in telling me that.”

“Look! She…” Kristoff threw his arms above his head with a groan and slumped further. “Something about her makes my stupid head want to open up and I can’t , okay? I’m not…”

Sven softened for just a moment. Kristoff struggled to find his words, mumbling a few non-starts before he finally came up with something he knew would convey all that Sven needed to know.

“She got me to mention my dad. No one knows about my dad.”

“ Dude ,” Sven whined, clapping his hands on top of the slightly taller man’s shoulders. “Isn’t that a sign, though? Your subconscious is literally screaming at you to let her in.”

“I don’t know her… I don’t trust her.”

A scoff, a quiet “you’re an idiot,” and then his hand was practically cupping Kristoff’s cheek, an action he wasn’t sure he was so comfortable with. Then he patted it hard enough to almost be classified as a smack, and Kristoff felt himself relax.

“You can’t get to know her if you keep treating her like this.”

Why was Sven always right?

He swore that he’d apologize the next time he saw her. Sven nodded as if it were good enough, and left him alone. 

Unfortunately, Anna hadn’t shown up to the rink in a few days, and Kristoff could feel the panic rising in his chest like acid with every passing moment. Had he been bad enough that she quit? Or, worse, was she going back to see her father and make him do something about the disrespectful goalie? She had threatened it… but was she really that kind of person?

It would be easier, he thought, if she were. 

He went through the practices, jumping at every person or sound that he thought could possibly be her, frowning when she didn’t come around the corner. He wanted to apologize, genuinely, but her not showing up was making that rather difficult .

But it was a Monday and it was still early, and he hoped that maybe there was a chance of her still showing today. He jumped at the puck that hit the glass behind him, and looked up just in time to see Mattias stalking towards the ice. 

“Bjorgman, my office, please.”

Oh god damn it fucking shit no.

—

Coach wasn’t patient today, so Kristoff just stripped off his padding and jersey before heading to the office. Walking around in compression shorts and a tee-shirt weren’t out of the ordinary, so he hurried onward and hoped it was good enough. He had gotten a low chorus of Oooo ’s as he skated off the ice, and when Coach silenced them with a loud bark of a shut up and practice , Kristoff knew it was serious. 

So he moved quickly, padding down the halls, and frowned when he heard multiple voices coming through the closed door. Knocking tentatively, Kristoff pushed open the door and felt his heart start beating faster when he saw a familiar head of red hair, neatly arranged into two braids, her cheeks red and expression shameful.

She fucking didn’t.

“Kristoff,” another voice said, pulling his attention away from her. Gerda, he thought he remembered her name being, the head of Public Relationships and Media, was standing in front of him, her hand extended. When he shook it, she gestured at the empty chair beside Anna and smiled. “Please, sit.”

He felt like a school kid again, getting scolded for cheating off an exam. 

Kristoff forgot his size for a moment and frowned when Anna’s arm retreated to her lap after his own brushed against it. Was she really that repulsed by him? Was he really that terrible of a person that just his arm brushing against hers made her recoil like that? 

There was an unfamiliar itch on the back of his neck, one he rolled his head to try and get rid of, frustration growing as it just got worse and worse . “What’s going on?” He started, lifting a hand to scratch at the back of his head. It didn’t help.

Mattias sat at his desk as Gerda lowered herself to perch on the edge, arms crossing over her chest. 

Now he really felt like a school kid again. Come on.

“I’m sorry, did…” her voice was meek as her eyes glanced to him for just a second before focusing on the gray carpet beneath their feet. “Is something wrong?”

Gerda smiled and shook her head, and Kristoff almost laughed as he and Anna breathed out a simultaneous sigh of relief. This still didn’t make sense, though. He leaned forward, bracing one hand on his knee as he did, elbow popping out to the side. “So what’s going on, then?”

“Well.” Mattias’ voice was powerful as ever, as he leaned forward on his arms and sighed. “Kristoff… It’s come to my attention that… you haven’t been doing so well with the media side of things over these last couple of seasons.”

What ?

“We’d really like it if you could make an effort to stick around for interviews, and show up to all of the charity events…” He shrugged. “And the fan events.”

Kristoff stiffened, frowning deeply. “I’m here to play hockey , coach.”

Mattias gave him a nod, but shrugged. “Well, unfortunately… part of being in the NHL is giving back, and part of being on this team , is participating in these events.”

He was balking now, his eyes wide and his hands gripping the edge of the desk as he leaned forward. “Come on .”

“This is non-negotiable, Bjorgman.”

He threw himself back into the chair with a groan, arms crossing tightly over his chest. He was too busy pouting to notice Anna sit further forward in her own seat, hand meekly raised in the air. 

“So… why am I here?”

Gerda dropped her hands into her lap with a nod. “We’d like you to be the primary reporter in charge of covering and interviewing him. 

And, in sync, “ What ?”

She let out a soft laugh and sat up straighter. “Anna, I’ve been impressed with how much effort you’ve put into just your first two weeks, and I’d like for you to have a chance to make a name for yourself. Richard quit, and we need an on-the-ice interviewer… so I would like for you to give it a try.” 

Kristoff tried not to be distracted by the movement of her throat as she swallowed, and turned his attention back to the two sitting in front of them. “There’s no wiggle room here?”

Mattias shook his head. “None. You do this, or you’re benched.”

Shit.

Anna still seemed to be processing the information when they were excused, and Kristoff had to slow down his steps to stay in stride with her. “Hey,” he started, trying not to laugh when she jumped as if she hadn’t even noticed he was walking beside her. “I…”

She stopped, looking up at him with those pretty blue eyes, and Kristoff felt his face flush. “I wanted to apologize for the other day.”

He saw a change in her, when she stopped being overwhelmed by the news and was back to hating his guts. Anna crossed her arms and looked up and down his body, her hip cocking to the side. “Go ahead.”

“What?”

“Apologize.”

Kristoff’s eyebrows furrowed, his shoulders rising with confusion as he continued to stare her down. “I did .”

“No,” she dragged out, her lips forming a perfect o as she leaned slightly forward. “You said you wanted to apologize.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

“No!” Her arms dropped to her sides, tense and frustrated as she turned and continued to walk off. “You’re unbelievable!”

He was genuinely confused, tripping over his feet as he spun quickly to keep up with her long, angry strides. “Okay, okay! I’m sorry!” She stopped suddenly and he almost ran her over as he did his best to halt his steps. Kristoff took in a deep breath, blowing it out in one slow sigh. “I’m sorry.”

“All right.” Her voice was softer now, as if that was all he had to do to make her give him another chance. She looked down at her feet, suddenly bashful as he towered over her, arms braced on his hips. “Well,” she risked a glance up at him and scrunched her lips to one side. “If we’re going to have to work together, we… should probably figure out how to be civil.”

Kristoff felt a weight lift from his chest as he nodded. 

“I can be civil.”

She laughed, and he flushed again. Even her laugh was pretty. 

“I doubt it, but I guess we should give it a try.”

[jade4813]

The Lies We Tell Ourselves, Chapter 4

Fandom: Zoey’s Extraordinary Playlist

Title: The Lies We Tell Ourselves

Rating: PG (I’m assuming it’ll stay there?)

Pairing: Zoey/Max

Synopsis: Max would do anything for Zoey. Including posing as her fake boyfriend to give her father one last “big moment” to celebrate with her. Nothing could possibly go wrong. After all, it’s only his heart that stands to be broken. Right?

Chapter: 4/?

Author’s Notes: Takes place after Zoey’s Extraordinary Glitch.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

“So, you want to go on a date tonight?” Max asked, wheeling his chair around the edge of her desk, his tablet balanced on his lap. He saw her shoot a quick glance towards Joan’s office and resisted the urge to follow her gaze. Joan had taken the news of their “relationship” in stride – though, given her current romantic situation, she couldn’t exactly do otherwise. However, she had exercised enough oversight to order that Max report directly to her for the foreseeable future, heading off any accusations of preferential treatment. Still, if they were going to sell the fiction of their relationship, Zoey and Max had agreed they needed to act like a couple, even at work. And that meant being seen going on dates.

And – if Max was very lucky – maybe even flirting in the hallways. But he was getting ahead of himself.

“Ah, sure,” she agreed. “That’d be great.” When she offered him a small smile, he returned the gesture and wheeled back around to his desk. Their first official fake-date. He couldn’t wait.

As it turned out, however, fate had other plans. With Tobin and Leif tackled the next phase for Chirp, it was up to Zoey and Max to troubleshoot the newest problem with the SPRQ Watch. A little after four, Joan called them into her office to notify them that the watch had developed its newest glitch: it was swapping heartrate and step counter data, leading to wildly inaccurate (and somewhat alarming) readouts for both. When she declared they weren’t to go home until it was fixed, Max inwardly groaned. So much for their date. Their fake-date, he corrected himself quickly.

But later that night, hunched over his computer with only Zoey for company, he decided the situation could have been worse. At least he got to be with her.

“You know, you don’t have to stay,” she called out to him, leaning back in her chair to stretch.

Max was a little taken aback by her offer, and he replied, “It’s all right. I’m happy to help.”

She threw him a slight grimace. “Max, please. It’s silly to ruin your whole night. I can take care of this; I think I’m pretty close to identifying the problem. It seems silly for us both to stick around.”

Although he wanted to argue, he changed his mind when he got an idea. “If you’re sure?” he asked, standing and reaching for his jacket.

Zoey looked a little surprised. “Of course I’m sure! Go on! I’ll see you tomorrow!”

But she wouldn’t have to wait that long. When he returned to the office twenty minutes later, she was sitting quietly at her desk, staring morosely at lines of code. “Max? What are you doing here? I thought you went home.”

He held up one of the two bags he was holding, and he saw the exact minute the smell of the food it carried made its way to her desk because her eyes went wide and she straightened in her chair. “You really thought I’d abandon you here by yourself? I thought you knew me better than that,” he chided her gently. “I went for a food run. I figured if we couldn’t go out for our date – our fake-date – then I’d bring our fake-date back here to us.”

“That’s…very thoughtful of you,” she remarked, though she hesitated and threw one last look at her computer screen.

He knew what she was thinking. “Give me five minutes while I set up in the conference room, but then you really need to take a break to eat. The glitch will still be there after dinner, but you won’t be if you pass out from hunger. Plus, brains work better with food.”

“I had food!” she protested, her voice following him to the conference room. “I got some chips from the vending machine earlier!”

“Cheetos are not food,” he called back over his shoulder, sliding the door shut behind him with his foot. Glancing at her desk one more time to make sure she hadn’t followed, he hurried to set the scene.

It took Zoey more like six minutes to find a stopping point in the code she was reviewing and make her way to the conference room, and when she did, he smiled at her gasp of surprise. “What is all this?” she asked.

He held her chair for her as she lowered herself slowly into her seat, looking at the meal he’d spread out before her. “Deli sandwiches from that place you like down the street. They were out of all the good sides, so I’m afraid I was stuck with kale chips.” He paused, considering, before acknowledging, “Which I’m not entirely sure are an actual food. But if we get desperate, I’m sure the vending machine still has some Doritos I can scavenge. I figured you were probably sick of coffee by now, so I got you a cup of hot tea with a little honey instead.” Just the way she liked it.

She nodded absently, as though she was still trying to take it all in. When he saw her finger the edge of the Happy Birthday tablecloth in amazement as he joined on the other side of the table, he threw her a wry look. “Okay, so the convenience store a couple blocks away was pretty low on options. But a first date requires a certain amount of panache. Even a fake one. And this was the best I could do under the circumstances.”

“It’s…amazing. No, really. It’s perfect,” she rushed to reassure him. “But are those really a good idea?” she asked, nodding at the cluster of birthday candles he’d stuck into two cupcakes – makeshift candelabra – in the middle of the table. Darting a cautious look towards the ceiling, she looked around for a sprinkler system.

“Oh, right,” he agreed quickly. He’d been so swept away by the idea for this impromptu date, that thought hadn’t occurred to him. “Maybe we should blow those out. Getting soaked would probably put a damper on the ambiance.”

Zoey picked up one of the muffins and handed him the other. Before blowing it out, however, she suggested, “What do you think? Should we make a wish?”

One corner of his mouth quirked upward. He already had everything he wanted. Well…almost. “Why not? I guess it is tradition.” He watched as she closed her eyes, pondering her own wish. In the faint light of the candles as they cast a soft glow around her face, Max thought she had never been more beautiful. Then she pursed her lips and exhaled quickly, extinguishing the flame.

When she opened her eyes again and saw his candles were still lit, she threw him a puzzled frown. “You didn’t make a wish?”

“I was waiting for you to go first,” he answered. It wasn’t a lie, but it also wasn’t entirely the truth. He’d been too captivated by her to even remember he was holding candles of his own. “I didn’t want to take the chance that we’d confuse any potential wish-granting fairy if we both went at the same time.”

She pressed her lips together, trying not to reward his bad joke with a smile, and he closed his eyes. He didn’t have to ponder his wish. It was the only thing in the world that he really wanted. I wish… a voice in his mind whispered softly as he prepared to blow out the candles. I wish…

As they cleaned up after their meal, Zoey remarked, “There’s something I should probably tell you. I actually…well, I was afraid this would be weird. Going on a date with you. A fake date. Going on a fake date with you.”

He threw her a bland look. “Our first romantic fake-date is basically an impromptu birthday party that is somehow set nowhere close to either of our birthdays. That’s not weird?”

He answering bubble of laughter washed over him, sending shivers down his spine. “Okay, weirder,” she acknowledged. “This is actually…very sweet. I just thought, you know…we’ve been friends for a long time. I figured it would be awkward to transition that into a romantic relationship. Even a fake one. Didn’t you?”

Picking up a stray kale chip – which he was still convinced wasn’t real food – he popped it in his mouth as he shrugged. “Not really. I always figured the best relationships start with friendship. If the person you love is also your favorite person in the world, why would it be weird?” Not wanting to spoil the mood by reminding Zoey of the lingering shadow of his own feelings, he focused his attention on his empty chip bag, crumpling it into a tiny ball as he and joked, “I always thought it would be like hanging out with your best friend, only, you know, with more kissing.”

“Are we going to be doing that?” she asked softly, her words freezing him in his place. His arm had been lifted to toss his garbage towards the trash can, but he lowered it slowly to the table as he considered her question. “Kissing, I mean,” she clarified, though it was hardly necessary.

Max sighed, pulling his attention away from the mess as he met her eyes across the table. “Honestly? I don’t know.”

“I wouldn’t bring it up if it weren’t important,” she reassured him, skirting the edge of the table to stand by his died. “But when we were at dinner with David and Emily the other night, she started asking me questions when we were in the kitchen cleaning up.”

“Questions? What kind of questions?” he asked, surprised that she hadn’t mentioned it before.

She waved her hand in the air in a vague gesture. “Oh, I don’t know. Just…questions.” When he just stared at her, she huffed and admitted, “All right, so it kinda felt like a cross-examination, but she’s an attorney. You know how they are. I guess she thought we were acting a little weird.”

He frowned. “Weird how? You think she suspected the truth?”

Zoey looked down, her hands fiddling idly with a discarded napkin. “I don’t know. Maybe not that so much as…um…well, that our relationship may not be…going…well. I tried to explain that we just hadn’t been dating for very long so we were still in the awkward phase of our relationship, but I don’t know how long she’ll buy that.”

With a heavy sigh, Max ran a hand through his hair, trying to gather his thoughts. “Wow. Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I wasn’t sure how to bring it up, I guess. And, anyway, I thought it probably wouldn’t matter because we would, um, get used to…everything before we saw them again. I’m not trying to push you or anything, if you don’t want to kiss me –”

“That’s not the problem,” he interjected, shaking his head. “The problem is that I do want to kiss you. And that makes this…complicated.”

“But does it have to be?” she asked in a small, pleading voice. “We don’t have to overcomplicate this. We can just think about it like…like shaking hands. But with our mouths.” She gestured vaguely at her lips, which didn't help his ongoing battle to not stare longingly at them, imagining what they would feel like to kiss.

“So, basically, it’s nothing like shaking hands,” he pointed out in a dry tone.

Her tone was apologetic as she explained, “Like I said, I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

She had a point, and he knew it. But that didn’t make this any easier. “I…I’m trying, Zoey. Can you give me just a little more time?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Of course.” The silence that fell between them was uncomfortable, filled with all the things they weren’t ready to address between them. Finally, she took a step back and said, “Anyway, I should probably get back to work.”

He nodded, gesturing at the table. “Go ahead. I’ll come help you when I’m done cleaning up.” He leaned over to collect the rest of the trash, but when she disappeared around the corner, he straightened with a sigh.

He should have realized Emily wasn’t going to be easily fooled. She was a very sweet person, when you got to know her, but she wasn’t the most trusting soul on the planet. She was also very protective of the people she cared about. If anyone was going to greet their story with skepticism, it would be her.

Max grimaced as he tossed out the rest of their trash. He knew he needed to get past this. He just didn’t know how. How could he kiss her and not want it to be real?

Because it was for Mitch. Because the whole reason they were in a pretend relationship was to make him happy in his final days. If he wasn’t going to commit wholeheartedly to their charade, what was the point? It had been unfair of him to offer to be Zoey’s pretend boyfriend if he wasn’t willing to follow through.

Or was that just an excuse? He ignored the question.

“Zoey, wait!” Max called out, following her out into the main office area.

“Yes?” she asked, turning around. She was standing by the hanging wicker chairs, where she’d sung her heart song to him not long before, but he tried not to think about that.

He stopped a couple of feet away from her, feeling inexplicably awkward and unsure. “You’re right. There’s no point in doing any of this if I’m not willing to do what it takes to sell it.”

She hesitated. “Are you sure? I really don’t want to make you do something you don’t want to do.”

Max bridged the distance between them. “I’m sure. If it’ll make Mitch happy, it’s worth it, right?” She nodded slowly. “But I think…it’ll probably be a little weird. Our first kiss, I mean. Maybe we should – ah – get it out of the way now. So that we seem more comfortable with each other when we’re in front of your family.”

Zoey blinked in surprise and took a half step back? “Really? I don’t know if that’s necessary –” she protested weakly.

“You think we should have our first kiss in front of Emily? That’s like putting chum in the water. There’s no way she wouldn’t pick up on it!”

After a moment’s hesitation, she nodded. “I see your point. Okay. If you’re – if you’re sure.”

Moving slowly, as if a sudden movement would scare her away, he reached up and cupped her face in his hands. “Close your eyes,” he whispered.

She did as he asked, then opened one eye and gave him a mildly suspicious look. “Why?”

Max grinned. Did she think he was going to prank her or something? “Because the first fake-kiss in a fake-relationship is very serious business. If you’re staring at me, I’ll get nervous and blow it, and then you’ll think I have terrible fake-kissing skills and fake-breakup with me,” he teased.

Biting back a smile, she closed her eyes again. Taking a moment to steady his breathing, he brushed his thumbs lightly across the high ridge of her cheekbones, down the soft skin of her cheeks, and along the curve of her jaw. He could do this. None of it was real. He just needed to remember that.

Leaning down, he hesitated when his mouth was inches from hers. The feel of her breath against his lips made him shudder with longing. It’s fake. None of this is real. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s all fake.

“Max?” she breathed, her voice soft and uncertain.

Before he could second-guess himself, he closed the distance between their mouths. It’s not real. He felt her lips part on a tiny gasp and moaned, one hand sweeping down her waist to her side as the other caressed the nape of her neck, toying with the soft curl of hair that wrapped around his fingers. It’s not real.

Her hands hovered above his chest, but when he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her in, she fisted her hands in his shirt and clung to him. He felt her murmur something against his mouth and hesitated, but her hands swept up his chest to his shoulders. It’s not real, he reminded himself. Then she wrapped her arms around his neck, sweeping her tongue against his lower lip in a silent invitation.

It was enough to shatter his self-control. Crushing her against him, Max lifted her off her feet as his lips parted and he poured all of the love he’d struggled to hide from her for years into his kiss. Zoey…oh, god. Zoey. He sucked her lower lip into his mouth, scraping it softly with his teeth. He couldn’t count the number of nights he’d spent thinking about her, fantasizing about her kiss. But even in his dreams had never captured the softness of her lips, the warmth of her breath.

She tasted like honey.

Zoey made a soft sound as he turned with her in his arms, and he smiled against her mouth. “God, Zoey, I –” he began. I love you. He caught himself before he could say the words that would reveal him. The words she didn’t want to hear. The reminder was like a splash of cold water, pulling Max out of his romantic haze.

It’s wasn’t real, he reminded himself.

But it felt real.

Embarrassed that he’d allowed himself to get carried away – and ashamed that he’d allowed himself to forget it was all an act, if only for a moment – he rushed to put her back on her feet and step away. His body nearly betrayed him, his hands reaching to hold her again, and so he shoved them into his back pockets and retreated another step.

Should he apologize? She had lifted her hand to her mouth, her fingers pressing against her lips as she stared at him with wide eyes. Unable to meet her eyes, he looked down, absently smoothing the wrinkles in his shirt caused by her hands. As he often did when he wasn’t sure what to say, he resorted to humor. “So, uh, that should do the trick, don’t you think? I can’t imagine even Emily would be suspicious after that.”

“No, I don’t think so,” she agreed softly.

He ran a hand through his hair, which he realized only belatedly had been mussed by her hands. “I should – should we get back to work, or -?”

“No! That’s okay!” she blurted, confirming his worst fears. He had crossed the line – if not with his actions, than with the way they betrayed his emotions, reminding her of feelings she didn’t want to face. “I’m almost done here, anyway. You can head out.”

His stomach sank. While he normally would have insisted he remain to help, he needed some distance from her. Not to mention time to get his head on straight. “Okay. Yeah. Right,” he mumbled. His hands still ached to hold her, and he didn’t trust himself not to give in to the urge, so he shoved them into his pockets as he turned to go.

It wasn’t real. It wasn’t.

At least…it hadn’t been for her. The problem was, it had been for him. So what was he going to do now?

[ceies]

Thorfinn - Where he came from and where to go?

I’ve watched Vinland Saga last week and started giving my opinion on the show recently. Since it’s all still on the forefront of my mind, I like to talk a little bit about my first impression of these characters. So “First impression” because I only watched Vinland Saga once, but I’ve rewatched certain clips, read a few short YouTube-comments and … spoken with people about it (mostly fawning over Askeladd tbh :D). So, this is not just my first impression after watching the show, but it is also influenced a little bit by the ideas of other people. However, as I haven’t actually gone and read any other characterizations before… there may be a lot that I’ve missed there may be a lot of questions I have that are long answered within the fandom or there may be some interpretations of these characters, that are not shared in maybe more thought-out and well-researched Characterizations.

So Spoiler Alert!

Synopsis:

In the first episode Thorfinn is just six years old. He lives with his father, mother and older sister in a small village on Iceland. His father is former and now retired warrior and as such admired by the whole village. He is in many ways what not just Thorfinn but many kids and young adults in the village aspire to be. Thors’ friend Leif is a sailor who has traveled all the way to “Vinland” (essentially Canada, I think) and tells inspiring stories to Thorfinn and the other kids. Thus, Thorfinn grew up dreaming to become a warrior like his father, traveling to the fabled “Vinland”, conquering the seas and going out on his own adventures.

The chance for an adventure comes sooner than expected, when Thors old comrade Floki and his Jomsvikings come to Iceland to demand that Thors joins the war between Denmark and England. Thors who has little choice in the matter agrees and thus, the whole village breaks out in excitement for the upcoming war. A war Thorfinn, intends to join.

When Thorfinn finds his father’s old weapons and draws the dagger being enraptured by it’s “Beauty”, his father talks to him about “Killing”.

“You have no enemies. Nobody has enemies. There is no one who it’s okay to kill.”

Thorfinn doesn’t understand these words, yet, and the next day he sneaks out onto his father’s ship to join the journey to Norway and possibly the war in England. However, before they ever reach Norway, they are attacked by a band of Vikings. Thors being the “larger than life��� powerful warrior that he is, fights the pirates/Vikings with his bare hands, then challenges Askeladd, the leader, to a duel demanding that in case of his victory all of his men go free. Despite Thors easily overpowering Askeladd, the pirates don’t honor the duel and Thorfinn is promptly taken hostage.

To protect his son and men, Thors gives his life and dies in front of Thorfinn. Some of his last words were:

“A true warrior does not need a sword.”

Thorfinn is devastated by that loss. He does not understand how his father who was so much more powerful could die. He doesn’t understand why his father refused to kill and is now dead himself. What he does understand, is that his father’s murderer Askeladd still lives. Disregarding or simply not understanding his father’s words, the young child swears vengeance against Askeladd, sneaks upon his father’s ship that the pirates take as spoils and screams his intention at the enemy.

Shortly after the Pirates land in England, Thorfinn gets his first chance at revenge. He stands over a supposedly sleeping Askeladd, sword raised over his head… and then he hesitates, steps back, and leaves. The next morning, he challenges Askeladd to an honorable duel, stating that as his father’s son, he would go the honorable way.

Of course, young Thorfinn stands no chance against Askeladd, but after another few encounters between Thorfinn and the band of Vikings Askeladd offers the boy to join his men, proof himself on the battlefield and then duel him again as often as he liked.

In the following years, Askeladd puts Thorfinn to use. He sends him on increasingly more difficult tasks, many of which could have easily ended in the boy’s death. Slowly killing his way through England, Thorfinn grows up into a teenager. By the time he is sixteen he’s a much changed and stronger warrior and he finally gets another chance to duel Askeladd……..

The Father, and the Father’s Killer

Thorfinn grows up from a six-year-old bright and happy child full of dreams of adventure, with a loving family, and a peaceful home to a teenager obsessed with hatred and vengeance, growing up on the battlefield while drowning in guilt.

What is very apparent early on is that, while Thorfinn focuses his rage on Askeladd who murdered his father, in his most desperate moments he also and maybe even to a greater extent blames himself for his father’s death. He was taken hostage when his father was all but winning the duel. He had snuck onto the ship against his parents’ wishes. Had he not been there, maybe his father would have lived. Another aspect that he feels guilt over – although this is hardly addressed until midway through the season – is that he left his family behind. While his father is dead, his mother and sister still live on Iceland. A slightly older Thorfinn has a dream of his father, telling him to come home and protect his family, only for the dream to turn into a nightmare when the village and is attacked and his father is killed all over again, while Thorfinn is powerless.

He often dreams of Thors. In these dreams he always turns into a child again. His father gives advice that is very true to Thors’ actual character. It is quite obvious from this that Thorfinn knows his father would not want him to pursue revenge and kill Askeladd. It’s something he has known from the beginning, even if he does not understand exactly why his father is like that or what it means to be a “true warrior”. Thorfinn listens to his father, but ultimately, he does not follow. There are some things even dream-Thors does not tell his son. Things he “has to learn himself”. As those dreams in my opinion are just that: dreams and not otherworldly visions, this seems to suggest that there in fact are many things Thorfinn does not know about his father even subconsciously. He knows his father would not want him to pursue revenge, but he does not understand why. The fact that Thorfinn always reverts to his six-year-old self in those dreams I think means that he never grew up from that moment. He might have physically aged, gotten a lot stronger and a bit smarter, but he is internally still that same small child devastated by his father’s death. In ten years, he never moved on, he never got to properly mourn.

Instead he focuses all his hatred on Askeladd, obsessed with revenge – which seems to be the very reason he is never able to move forward as a character. Over the years, and at the end of the show this is painfully apparent: Thorfinn did not grow. He got more badass, but he never changed. He is the same angry boy, only maybe with every year a little bit angrier a little bit more lost in the darkness.

When Leif finds him years later, he does not even recognize the happy and bright young boy within the hateful teenager he meets.

To Thorfinn Thors is an anchor. He is his idol, who he aspires to be. It is his father he thinks about when he imagines a warrior, a true warrior or the concept of honor. It is because of his father that he decides to seak revenge the “honorable” way in a fair duel instead of a dagger in the dark. In many ways Thors is a bright beacon in Thorfinn’s life. He is his idol and it is him whom he turns to in his dreams. However, Thors is not just the Anchor he can rely on… maybe more so he is an anchor to drag him down further into the darkness. Because it is Thors death that Thorfinn focuses on more than his lectures. It’s his pursuit of revenge that he will disregard even Thors most fundamental ideas for.

Thorfinn knows, his father would not want him to kill… and yet he kills left and right. Thorfinn knows his father would want him to go back home, and yet he spent 11 years growing up in war. And all of that happens because of Thors even more so than “in spite” of Thors.

This show very much explores the idea of “Killing the Father”. And Thorfinn is stuck in stasis: His father is dead, but he cannot let go. (This is in stark contrast to Canute, who can let go of Ragnar.)

The other relationship that is most important in exploring Thorfinn’s character is Askeladd. Askeladd is for almost the entirety of the season Thorfinn’s sole focus of his hatred. While in the beginning, he still shows anger and resentment against characters like Bjorn – who were very much also responsible for the way his father died – at the end of the day, it seems to be just Askeladd who he is obsessed with.

Askeladd at this point is an adult, and a lot stronger than Thorfinn, so of course this young kid is no threat to him. But smart, conniving and pragmatic bastard that he is, he knew immediately how to use this revenge-obsessed boy to his advantage. Thorfinn is essentially willing to do everything to get Askeladd to agree to a duel. He also seems to have little concern for his own safety, while simultaneously being a crafty and increasingly strong warrior. Askeladd can use this kid to his maximum potential and soon Thorfinn grows into the most effective and powerful weapon Askeladd has at his disposal – short of his own intellect.

Thorfinn… is somewhat aware of the fact, that Askeladd uses him, but until the very end he never quite understands how much he is using him. Thorfinn does all these things, because he truly believes it will lead to his vengeance. But Askeladd goes along, because he knows for a fact, it never will – or only in many, many years when Askeladd is already old and weak.

To Askeladd Thorfinn’s revenge is a ridiculous game. It’s something that is quite obvious in the Anime from the start, but it hits even harder when Askeladd finally spells it out for Thorfinn:

Thorfinn is a slave to his revenge. And thus, he is a slave to Askeladd. And that without even really knowing.

Because physically there is nothing hindering him from just leaving Askeladd and going home. But he can’t. The weirdest situation is when Thorfinn talks to a slave girl about how he is no slave – when he very much is in that meaning of the word – but if he were he would kill his slaver – which he is very much trying to do… at least that’s what I thought at first. Later Askeladd spells it out: He is in fact a slave to his vengeance, a slave to Askeladd… but he never really tried to kill him. Because if he had, Askeladd would be long dead. All Thorfinn is doing, is playing a ridiculous game because he is terrified of “liberating himself” as that would force him to finally acknowledge his own guilt.

Apart from that hatred, ultimately, there’s another deeper relationship between Askeladd and Thorfinn. This is something the show, as well as both characters involved try to hide and deny for the longest time, but also the type of relationship you know has to be there. Askeladd essentially raised Thorfinn for 11 years. He did that through the harshest means, demanding traumatizing and horrendous things of him, turning him into a murderer, ridiculing him, beating him to a pulp and readily abandoning him on the battlefield. But he still raised him, he spent 11 with this boy watching him grow up from child to man. Thorfinn grew up with Askeladd as his closest and really only relationship, as an adult to learn from. He did that kicking and screaming, spewing hatred and anger… but he did spend 11 years growing up under Askeladd.

Of course, between the two, eventually a relationship would form that went deeper than just superficial pragmatism on one side and deep-rooted anger on the other. Ultimately, they would grow to care for each other. This is of course something both denied, even to themselves. There are a few moments like when Askeladd looks at Thorfinn and suddenly realizes how much he had grown, that seem to hint at that growing relationship, but it is well-hidden within these characters. As long as Thorfinn is obsessed with revenge he can not let himself care for Askeladd and as long as Askeladd sees such a useful tool in Thorfinn he cannot quite acknowledge that he would regret his death.

Shortly before Askeladd’s death Thorfinn can finally let go of his pursuit of vengeance. There is a short scene when Thorfinn stands in Leif’s boat staring at a bird. This is one of the scenes that I’ve been thinking about the most. It reminds me a little bit of a scene in Episode 7 when the war was put on halt and upon questioned what to do now, Askeladd said they would “do what the birds do”. So maybe, I thought, it meant that with Thorfinn having given up on his revenge and no real purpose where to go, staring at the bird take flight made Thorfinn remember that moment and “take flight himself.” I don’t know… if somebody has a good interpretation of that scene: Help me out!

I don’t think Thorfinn went to find Askeladd. Instead, I think that Thorfinn upon wandering through the town heard the commotion and realized something was happening. However, when he saw Askeladd die in front of him, it was obvious that he cared. There is still part of him, that I think is attributing the pain that he feels upon the loss of his “mentor” to his now forever lost chance at revenge. But it is telling, that Askeladd even somewhat needs to remind him that they are supposed to be enemies.

When Askeladd dies Thorfinn not just ultimately loses his purpose that had kept him going for the last 11 years but he also loses a person that was quite close to him, even if he utterly hated him. Thorfinn is devastated.

I think it’s interesting to mention at this point, that consistent with his character so far, the first reaction he jumps to after Askeladd died was again revenge, attacking Canute. After that however, the moment when he is dragged away from Askeladd’s body, he in his last act of the season let’s go of his dagger.

This is so important, because while I assume it means that at this point, he finally let go of his revenge- because it is ultimately lost to him – and the last 11 years… He also let go of the last momentum of his father So, maybe this is a way of him saying that he can let go of Thors now.

As this is supposed to be a characterization of Thorfinn not Askeladd, and since it’s already very long I won’t go into detail about Askeladd’s relationship with Thorfinn (so the other way around) nor what Askeladd maybe thought when he saw Thorfinn in the finale nor what he maybe meant with his words… that will all be part of a possible later, and possibly even longer Askeladd-post… But I want to finish this trying to guess where Thorfinn may go from here:

So… Thorfinn I think is at this point ready to properly mourn his father. He never did this, because he was never really willing to accept his death. I see him letting go of the dagger, not just as him letting go of his hatred and vengeance, but also him slowly getting ready to let go of his father. Finally, 11 years after his death. That said, that probably won’t be easy. I don’t really know that much about the process of mourning, but I’ve heard about the “five Stages of Grief” and if this is in anyway like that… he has been stuck in the “Anger” phase for the longest time. So, I think it’s possible that in a second season he may be stuck for a while in the bargaining and/or depression stage… And I think, we will probably have to go through the same process now, regarding Askeladd.

The way Askeladd died was in a way similar to how Thors died, as in “he seemed to do fine in battle, then Thorfinn appeared, creating an opening for the killer”. So, I don’t think he will be stuck on “Anger” the way he did for Thors’ death, because I think he is old enough to ultimately understand what has happened and why. He did have a short outbreak of anger here, and he may not like Canute anymore – if he ever did… but ultimately, I don’t think he will stay angry at Canute. However, I think in the next season Guilt might be a rather unfortunate companion, even if again he probably knows intellectually that it’s not his fault. This fits because it also is what he has to now deal with in regard to Thors’ death.

If I understand my (very shallow and quick) google search on the Five Stages of Grief correctly, that would be part of the “Bargaining” stage.

Askeladd’s last words were more or less:

“How do you want to live your life? Don’t stay here forever. Go ahead, Son of Thors. Go beyond. Become a true warrior, that is your real fight.”

The way Thorfinn looked in this scene, the question “what to do after Askeladd’s death” never crossed his mind. So even when he joined Leif…it wasn’t really so much a conscious decision of “this is what I want to do” but rather… just following Leif around.

So, because the show is called Vinland Saga… I do think, that ultimately, he will join Leif to get to Vinland or explore some new ocean. But… not now. At the moment, I think he has to do some soul searching which… so far he wasn’t the quickest in developing and growing internally, the guilt for Thors’ and Askeladd’s deaths will probably further drag him down – so I think it will be a while until he makes the decision what he wants to do. If this decision will then be going to Vinland or whether he first decides to do something else entirely I do not know… But the way I’ve come to know Thorfinn I would not be surprised if he needed a big junk if not the entirety of season two trying to just overcome his guilt and finding a new path forward.

That said, even if he now still wanted to go with Leif… which I assume maybe he would want to do that, just because it’s the only option he has and the only person in the town he really cares for… I think that would be difficult because he just attacked Prince/King Canute. So… he’s not going to die… but I’m pretty sure this will have consequences and he will be punished in some way… I’m kind of… unsure what punishment that would be, but as I have spoiled myself a little bit by seeing a picture for the second season where he was in chains – I assume the punishment will be slavery. Everything else doesn’t make much sense anyway, I guess unless they want to mutilate him… which… would be unfortunate since we spent so much time building him up as this badass duel-wielding warrior.

Thorfinn as a Main Character:

The funny thing about Thorfinn in his role of main character is, that through long stretches of the first season he doesn’t feel like the Protagonist. Don’t get me wrong, the Anime makes it quite clear that he IS in fact the main character, but since he does not change much at all between episodes 5 and 22, he seems somewhat “less exciting to follow around” as a character. While I was always hyped to see him fight somebody, midway through the season Canute and Askeladd stole the show. They seemed so much more exciting and so much more interesting to follow around. Both characters were also far more active in the story, while Thorfinn was just lagging behind. Not just in terms of character development but also in terms of the plot that was now unfolding. For the most part – excluding the emotional highlight of Thorfinn’s breakdown over Askeladd’s death – story wise Thorfinn wasn’t needed for the finale. Overall it felt like Thorfinn got less and less relevant for the actual plot the closer we got to the end of the show. Of course, he had moments in between, and especially the last three episodes did wonders for his character development, but still during these episodes I felt like the story didn’t care about him. It wasn’t about him. And the part oft the plot that he cared about (the revenge arc) was something nobody else – not even Askeladd really cared about.

This is difficult to put into words because… Thorfinn still got a lot of shine even in the last episodes. He was always a focal point in the show. But it’s like Thorfinn follows a character-centric story, that focuses entirely on his development and how he processes his father’s death, how he learns to let go of his pursuit for revenge, how he grows up and becomes an adult… while everybody else and the rest of the world follow a very plot-driven story of “We need to decide the succession of the Danish throne”. And this is a plot in which Thorfinn as the main character has no investment in whatsoever…

The one character that brings and holds these two separate stories together is Askeladd. So, I feel like over the course of this Saga we will probably watch Thorfinn grow from young child to old age and follow him through whatever development he goes through in that time. In that sense, he is the main character. But it also feels like what happens around him, is not always or maybe even not at all about him and the individual arcs or seasons may prominently feature other characters as a second “seasonal main character”. In that sense, “Thorfinn is the main character of the Vinland Saga, but this is Askeladd’s Arc… or maybe even Canute’s Arc”.

Of course, it could be that I’m wrong and this is only the case for the prologue, because it is a prologue and Thorfinn is still young and once he is older and more powerful and has a new agenda, he will be able to shape events more actively himself.

Over the course of the Season there were a few times where I did not particularly like him as a character, where I found frustrating or even a bit annoying, but I always understood his anger. As far as main characters with revenge-arcs go (which is not a character-arc I normally care about), I think this is my favorite handling of this particular character type. What I also really appreciate is how while in this season this character is stuck on revenge and he is stuck on revenge for a long time, it is also obvious at the end, that this will change. And since this is the Prologue, I have high hopes that maybe in the future we will see more of a “redemption type” story unfold. As normally if there is a main character in pursuit of revenge, it seems like moving past that and giving up on it is the major thing the story is about. Here with Thorfinn, him giving up on revenge is already happening in the Prologue. So maybe I’m too optimistic about where this story will unfold, but I’m looking forward to following a character who has already given up on his revenge before the main story is even really starting.

[scullysexual]

What was originally just going to be a simple epilogue turned into a full blow sequel. Halfway through this a multi-chapter format began and I can’t see this being posted just one big final chapter so now it’s just a sequel which might or might not be a good thing but I guess we’ll see.

@today-in-fic @purrykat @baronessblixen @suitablyaggrieved @sarie-fairy Tagging you guys cause I know you’d want to be tagged haha. Anyone else wants tagging let me know. @kittydurs

I hope you enjoy this as much as you did Jewel.

Sunlight streams through the gap in the blinds. A small bedsit positioned perfectly that the first rays of light are bright enough to wake him up.

Mulder should be grateful for it, really. The first to wake means he’s the first to find a good spot on the pier, leaving the night owls to fight for the remaining places.

It’s been almost three months and this humble life has already proved to be much of a trial. He had underestimated it his whole life. Sympathy for those who lived this kind life he’d always had but the empathy had been lacking. Only now can he truly understand just how hard they had to work.

Beside him, Scully stirs, muttering something that sounds a lot like What’s the time? eyes struggling to open.

Mulder smiles, a hand reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair out of her face as she twists and turns to face him.

“It’s early,” he mumbles into the quiet room. “Go back to sleep.”

He watches as she settles, eyes falling shut once more.

The months passed since the disaster hadn’t been easy on either of them. When they had finally arrived at New York, the world had held its breath- maybe not directly for them but Mulder and Scully had felt it all the same, parting the ship, the miraculous survivors of a ship that couldn’t sink.

His dreams were still plagued with that night; icy water and chilling screams. When he slept, he had no escape- he was back there, clinging onto that rail, watching people drop to their deaths all around him. Sometimes he even saw Scully fall and those dreams had frightened him the most.

He never fell, though. Even when he was in the water, he could never die. Only those around him could die.

Scully fared no better. Sometimes she would just stop, get lost somewhere in the memory of that night. They never spoke about it, it was an unspoken agreement they had made stepping onto the docks. Nobody was aware they had been on the ship at all. After all, Fox Mulder had died and Dana Scully had never stepped onto the ship. It was easier that way, or so they told themselves.

With time wasting away he climbs out of bed. Their mattress in the corner has him scrambling over Scully to actually get out. His efforts to not wake her fail and, as he’s fumbling with his clothes, her eyes open for the second time.

“The pier doesn’t open until later,” she croaks. “Why do you need to leave so early?”

“Got to get the best spot on the pier, Scully,” he says, rolling up his sleeves. His attire had changed in the months that had passed. Gone were the handmade tailored suits he’d wear to dinners, now it’s just a simple shirt and some trousers. Even his shoes had taken a turn for the worse.

“You need new shoes.”

There’s a hint of worry in her voice, they barely have enough to pay their rent and eat.

He ignores the way the leather rips away from the sole.

“They’ll be fine,” he says, reaching over to grab his sketchbook- the only expensive investment he’d made after he lost his original in the sinking. He tries not to focus on that. There’s only a few drawings in this book, mostly personal stuff for when business is low and his hand aches to draw something real aside from the cartoon portraits of people willing to waste their cents.

Now ready, he walks the short distance back to the bed.

“I’ll see you later, okay?”

Scully nods and Mulder presses a kiss to her forehead and then her lips before he grabs the keys and heads out.

The hallway is littered as always, even this early in the morning, people sit on the stairs trying as best they can to sleep. They don’t live here but the landlord does nothing to prevent them from entering, he’ll just go round with a cup and a silent request for money.

“Good morning, Leif.”

It still takes him some time for realise that he is Leif, not many people call him by that name and he’s Mulder to Scully regardless. No, only one person calls him Leif.

Mulder turns to see Susi standing in the doorway of her studio, scantily clad as always.

He smiles, intending on continuing with his journey before Susi’s speaking again.

“You know if you ever get bored, my door’s always open,” she tells him, with her cracked-teeth smile.

Mulder awkwardly nods and smiles, saying nothing. He tries to keep his conversations with Susi brief after their first night here and she had gotten a little too friendly with him in the communal area, much to Scully’s dismay. He had only tried to make friends.

He leaves Susi where she is, unlocking the front door and making his journey to the pier.

 Scully spends her days counting coppers. Better with numbers than Mulder, they agreed that she would handle their funds and that’s how it had been for the past four months.

Yet her heart drops when she’s finished adding and subtracting the money away to find that there isn’t enough to pay the rent and feed them.

In the early days, when they’d discussed what they would do about jobs, the price of Mulder’s drawings had been brought up a lot. He’d argued that the drawings were worthless and if he was selling them at a ridiculously high price nobody could come to him. She, in turn, had argued that maybe the price should be decided on the work put in and the work produced.

It doesn’t work like that, Scully, Mulder had told her afterwards. People pay for what they get, they don’t care about how much effort has been put into it.

Scully could only scoff. How would you know? she’d asked. Everything you wanted has been handed on a gold plate. All Little Fox would have to do is throw a temper tantrum and Mammy and Daddy would cough up.

Perhaps it had been a low-blow but his words had only made her angry. He knew nothing of this, of trying to find a good-enough job to pay the bills. Once upon a time, he’d have inherited some big company, his wealth sealed in that outcome and until then he’d been all nice and cushy.

After a while, after what Scully had said had fallen to the floor, Mulder said, Perhaps it’s best we get away from each other for a while. We’ve been cooped up too long in this room. With that he’d left, leaving Scully to figure it out.

Just like she has to do now.

She stares at the numbers, maybe hoping they would magically change to the right number but no, they don’t, they stay as they are.

She can owe, she thinks. She’ll have to.

He hands the stupid drawing to the woman as the man drops the money into the pot.

The third person. The third person in five hours.

Despite it being August, despite it being lunchtime, the sun high in the sky and pier packed, nobody was interested.

Mulder cracks his back, already sore and aching. Still six hours to go, still a chance to bring home some real money.

“Business not going well?”

Mulder internally groans at the sound of a familiar voice.

“What do you want, Fuller?”

He tiredly looks over to the weasel-faced man casually poking around his stall, his face lacking stress, his hands in his pockets, and a cocky demeanour reminding him all too well of Alex Krycek.

“Just looking around,” Fuller says. “Seeing how the competition is doing.” He picks up Mulder’s money jar and pulls a face. “Ooh, not well I see.”

“You not got your own stall to man, Fuller?”

Fuller laughs. “I’m on a break. See, unlike you, I can afford these little luxuries.”

Mulder had met Fuller very early on. They both fought for the same spot on the pier- the spot Fuller now occupies- and since then it had been a race to see who could get there first. Fuller always beat him, regardless.

“Why don’t you have your little break somewhere else then?”

He goes to push Fuller out of his stall but the little weasel man is quick, hopping out of the way just before Mulder can grab him.

“Careful, Brevik,” he says. “Otherwise you won’t be around much longer to pay that rent.” He gives a sideward glance to the jar again. “Not that you’ll be paying it this month anyway.”

Fuller saunters off then, back to his own stall.

Mulder sits back down on his stall, wipes the sweat off his forehead and looks wearily at the jar himself. He thinks it’s rent day today and just hopes there’s enough at home to cover it.

“It’s Mulder, isn’t it?”

Mulder pauses. His real name being uttered by somebody else…He chances a glance up at the person, not really sure what to think.

“Christ, they said you were dead.”

Mulder frowns at the man who stands before him. He looks familiar but Mulder can’t for the life of him replace him.

The man chuckles. “You don’t recognise me, do you?” he says and holds his hand out. “John Byers, we met on the Titanic.”

Realisation sinks in as Mulder remembers him. He smiles, jumping up from stool and shakes hands with Byers.

“I’m sorry,” Mulder says. “A lot’s happened recently.”

“Yeah,” Byers agrees. He looks at the sign next to the stall. “First class suits on the Titanic to selling cartoons on Coney Island. What happened?”

“A lot,” Mulder says. “A lot happened.”

 They’re meeting lands them in a bar just off the pier. It’s still early, Mulder guesses it’ll start to pack up later.

“Didn’t think you’d survived,” Mulder says.

Byers laughs. “Yeah, Suzanne wouldn’t get on a lifeboat without me. The officer just looked at me and shrugged. What about you? They say you’re dead but you’re here in front of me.”

Mulder chuckles slightly, picking the label off his beer bottle. “I didn’t marry Phoebe Green,” he says.

Byers nods. “Yeah, your father put that in the papers. Said his son had died a dignified death, sacrificing himself to save women and children.”

“Of course he did,” says Mulder, begrudgingly. He hadn’t touched the paper. The headlines were everywhere, the story plastered on every newspaper being sold. He had lived the tale, he didn’t need to read some exaggerated version of it.

“So, you didn’t marry Phoebe because you died, what was the other reason?”

He looks up to the ceiling, trying to figure out the way best to explain it.

“I met someone,” he says. “Someone from the third class.” He hears Byers breathe out heavily but ignores it. “And after a day I knew I didn’t want to marry Phoebe. I didn’t want to marry her at all, I didn’t want to get on the ship but there was nothing I could do about it.” He shrugs, smiling. “Then I met Scully and I didn’t want to be anywhere else after that. I decided I was getting off the ship with her and the only way to do that was to change my name and pretend I died.” Mulder sits back in his seat and looks towards Byers, holding out his hand again. “Leif Brevik, by the way.”

Byers laughs, shaking Mulder’s hand again. “That’s quite the conspiracy,” he says and Mulder shrugs again.

“Listen,” Byers tells him. “I have some friends who have been looking into the sinking.” Mulder’s ears piqued up at that. “We think it might have been an insurance scam.”

Mulder frowns. “What makes you say that?”

“There’s just some evidence that seem to point towards it being a possibility. We have a base not too far away from here, if you want to see.”

Mulder looks from his pitiful jar of money, to the window where he can see Fuller’s long line of people queuing for their portrait. With one final decision, he nods.

 The dreaded knock on the door finally comes. Scully jumps slightly, taking her head out of the medical journals Mulder sometimes brought back with him.

Her stomach squeezing with nerves, she grabs the bag of money and with a deep exhale, opens the door.

Mr Roth stands on the other side, his arms already full with other tenants’ rent.

“You’re rent, Mrs Brevik.”

Cautiously, Scully hands the bag to the landlord. He snatches it- ever one without manners. As he begins counting, Scully’s fingers begin to nervously fiddle with her necklace.

Mr Roth shakes his head, muttering. “Where’s the other $9?” he asks.

“That’s all we have,” says Scully.

Roth looks at her for a moment and Scully waits.

“I want $35 next month,” he says and with that limps off down the corridor.

Scully lets out a breath.

“Better be careful.”

Scully looks up to see her neighbour hanging out of her front door.

“Last tenant who couldn’t pay the second time was out on the streets.”

Scully smiles, saying nothing and retreats back into her house. Maybe it was a time she got a job also.

[crystalelemental]

sirbartonslady replied to your post “Someone opened a bunch of polls on the forums, asking about “Best...”

Genealogy is great for the crowd who believes games should be smarter than you and should be ball-crushingly hard. People who think playing on easy so you can enjoy the story is being a pussy and you shouldn't be allowed to play any games at all. That elitist mindset that wants a game that punishes you if you're not Really Good already, rather than teaching you how to get good at it.

For the rest of us, Genealogy and Thracia are far too difficult to enjoy because the games punish you for not Being Godly Good Already

On the one hand, you’re right and should say it.  I feel like there is a lot of the mentality that difficulty is what makes these games good, even if the difficulty is obnoxious and not fun in the slightest.

On the other...okay there’s a lot here so I’ll put the rest under the cut.

My main issue with Genealogy is that it feels really uninspired gameplay wise.  If you look through the maps, every single encounter with enemies is a block of the same exact units with almost all the same exact weapons and stats, just charging at you.  While that’s probably a more accurate representation of war-based formations, it does not a fun gameplay experience make, because it’s just throwing your characters at the blocks of enemies until something breaks.  There’s really not a ton of strategy to the game, I feel, because there’s seldom a time where thinking about placement and weapon triangle and shit matters.  It’s just “Here is our squad of 10-16 cavalry units” followed by the next castle going “Aha, but how will you handle MY squad of 10-16 cavalry units?!” until you clear the 5 hour map.  At a certain point you add in specific skills that are just infuriating to deal with, like god forbid an enemy has Miracle, and the game just becomes annoying more than anything else.

There’s also an issue I’m going to bring up from a video that I kinda liked, at least in terms of what it was expressing.  They talked about Three Houses and the turnwheel system, and how being able to recover from death removes an aspect of strategy between pressing forward when a character dies to avoid losing progress, or resetting and losing your good growths etc, when you can just turn back time a bit.  Genealogy...does the same exact thing.  Having a save every single turn means you’re never in any real danger of failure or losing much if a character dies.  Unfortunately, it does the same thing as Three Houses because of that: we can make encounters super hard because the heavy punishment is pointless.  Jack up the crit and avoid rates, who cares, you’ll just reset the turn anyway if it plays out wrong.  But I hate that aspect, because it’s an absolute disaster of trying to find exactly the right combination of actions to get through something.  It’s tedious puzzle solving with randomized solutions more than a strategic endeavor.

I’d also argue that the huge map sizes are massively to the game’s detriment.  Having routine checkpoints wasn’t just good for breaking up the flow of the game, but to give us story elements between major bouts.  I get that there are some who think there’s too much talking in recent games, but like...compare Genealogy with the GBA era, and I think it becomes clear what I’m talking about.  We barely know a single thing about anyone in Genealogy, compared to how connected we can get with a character like Roy or Eliwood.  Because Roy and Eliwood have constant development between the chapters, while Sigurd and Seliph have far less time interacting with others or the world around them, and most of their screentime is dedicated to worldbuilding and lore.  So yeah, Jugdral seems super developed and interesting conceptually, but you wind up not giving a shit about most characters in it, because no one’s all that interesting.  They’re not given time to be interesting.

Thracia just takes all of that and somehow makes it worse.  While it’s closer to the GBA format of having more interesting enemy placements and map designs, the problem is that it’s just a disaster to experience.  I think it was SpeedyHawk who recently made the statement “Thracia feels like a fan game where they didn’t actually know how to develop it properly so they made things way too ridiculous and difficult.”  And god did that resonate.  Because it does feel like that.  Who the fuck designed half of this shit?  Thank god capture never came back.  Thank god we realized that having one (1) random child in the map being super critical to obtaining a super important item was a stupid idea.  Thank god we never had a recruitment condition anywhere near as stupid as “get all eight of these children to talk to their seemingly random enemy unit without anyone dying or being captured, then let them escape before talking to their boss, who will join you.  Also everyone and everything can be hit with Sleep staves, which are many, and if you don’t have a Restore staff still on hand then you can never, ever recover from that status, so better hope that Leif doesn’t get hit ever.

Like...I do think Genealogy and Thracia have a ton of good qualities.  But gameplay is definitely not one of them.  It’s why I want a remake for both of them so bad.  Being able to play them with improved gameplay that’s not as blindingly obnoxious would be wonderful, and if we can get some more dialogue and interactions with characters that fleshes them out, even better.  I just hope that one character having their translated name changes means the next game is a Genealogy remake, because I am so ready for Brave Seliph and Brave Julia to dominate.

[disrespectfullcalum]

A ROARING FIRE (1/?)

Pairing: Bjorn Ironside x OC

Word count: 1.416

Summary: Bjorn comes back after a long raid to find a new healer in town. She’s living on her own, trying to make a living and raise her brother while secretly wanting to be a warrior herself. Bjorn makes it his mission to see the distant Ríkví smile at least once - but does he know what he’s getting himself into?

Warnings: mentioning of death & violence; drinking; name-calling; kinda slow-burn; lots of swearing (later parts)

A/N: Here we go, first part of this thing! If you like it, please send me some feedback in any way or just reblog/comment/etc. xx

MASTERPOST

The wind kept on blowing strands of blonde hair into her face as she made her way through the crowd. It was a steady wind that would bring the fleet safely back into their harbour, along with the prince of Kattegat himself. But Ríkví didn’t care for that, there was a young girl at the other side of town who was about to bear her first child. And as the only female healer around who also knew how to bring a child into this world safely, it was her duty to be there on time.

Ríkví had been at Kattegat for about six weeks by now and still found it weird to have that many other people around her constantly. Most of her life she had spent on a farm, surrounded mostly by some chickens, goats, pigs, and her family. There had been six of them: Her father Magnus, her mother Myrún, the older twins Rasmus and Leif, and her younger brother Torvid. As the only daughter, her mother had taught her everything she knew about healing early on: Which herbs you could mix together to make a healing paste, which ones were good to calm a fever, and which ones would lead to a quick death. But Ríkví had always known that she truly wanted to be a shieldmaiden and fight, just like her older brothers would.

They trained every day while she was stuck tending to the animals or the plants, but sometimes – sometimes Rasmus would throw a small wooden sword and a shield her way so that she could at least learn the basics. After all, the twins would leave for battle sooner or later and she should be able to protect herself! Ríkví adored the twins and had been crying the most when the two of them left to go on a raid with Ragnar, an old friend of their father. She begged and begged them not to go, not to leave her alone, and to come back to her.

But they didn’t.

Both Rasmus and Leif died during their first raiding. The first due to an axe that split his head and the second due to an infection in his battle wounds. It had been ten long years, but Ríkví never forgave Ragnar that he broke his promise to bring her brothers back in glory. After that, life at the farm hadn’t been the same as her father was drinking more than ever trying to cope with the deaths of his favourite sons and her mother often crying herself to sleep.

Ríkví decided then, that it would be her duty to protect the family and to care for them. She learned how to hunt properly, how to skin an animal and how to fish. Everything that she learned, she taught her younger brother – so that he would be the protector of the family in the future and would be a true man in his own right. She took him with her to go hunting, but they didn’t make it home that night thanks to a thunderstorm. Afraid of Thor’s wrath, the siblings took shelter in a small cave and prayed that their own home would not be destroyed by it.

It seemed though that the Gods weren’t favouring them: Everything had burnt down and Ríkví could see the signs of thunder hitting the ground on the sandy ground. They couldn’t find their parents anywhere.

So now, it was only the two of them left and at first, they tried to rebuild the farm and make a living there. But without any animals and no means to buy some, life was hard out there and they wouldn’t eat properly for days on end. So after a few months, Ríkví and Torvid left their home behind and went from one small village to the other, trying to find work and make a living there.

When Ragnar had heard that his old friend had died, he sent out some men to find the living children and offer them a new home at Kattegat. He meant to provide for them as long as he needed and to help them start a new life there. It was a generous offer, that much was clear – but Ríkví still had her concerns. The new King had never offered them any condolences or compensation when her older brothers had died. He hadn’t shown them compassion, but then again – viking kings rarely did. It was mostly the whining of Torvid who desperetaly wanted to go that made her finally give in.

And now, she was here. Kneeling in front of a young girl that was screaming and crying as a new life was coming out of her body. It had taken nearly all day for the young boy to come into the world and Ríkví had used most of her herbs to calm the woman’s nerves and also lower the fever that had risen during the last hours. Gunilla looked over to her as she collected her things quickly and made to leave. “Wait! I wanted to thank you.” Ríkví stopped in her motion and turned to the older one. “It’s nothing to thank me for. I’m glad to help.” And with that, she made her way out of the warm inside of Gunilla’s hut.

Now was not the time to collect the money for her services, but Ríkví was sure that the older woman would come around in the next days to make sure that everything was payed for. Gunilla was the most respected woman at Kattigat – except for Lagertha of course, but the latter was almost never around as she ruled as Earl in her own right.

Breathing in the fresh air, Ríkví made a quick list in her head which herbs she would need to restock. There was a trader that would be coming to town in a few days who always brought some of the more unusual herbs with him. The other ones wouldn’t be too hard to get: Most of them were growing in the small yard in front of the hut that she was sharing with Torvid. Just as the thought of her younger brother crossed her mind, he appeared in front of her like a ghost. “In the name of Odin, Torvid! Was that truly necessary?” She shouted while gripping her basket harder. Ríkví hated it when he surprised her like that. It reminded her too much of the fact that he had learned how to walk silently like a warrior.

“Not my fault that you run around with your head somewhere else.” He grinned at you, but his expression quickly went from mischievious to utterly excited. “Guess where we are gonna eat tonight?” The older one simply lifted one eyebrow and continued walking, as he kept up easily and even skipped a few times in his step. “C’mon, Ríkví! It’s no fun if you don’t even try.” Even though he was now 16 years old, he could whine like a little baby boy. She sighed and gave him a questioning look. “It can’t be at Bjarke’s hut because his mother practically hates me for not wanting her son. It can’t be with Gunilla because she is celebrating the birth of her sixth grandchild and it won’t be with Hjalmar because his mother can’t cook to save her life so you wouldn’t be that excited.” Those were usually the people you sometimes were invited to share a meal with or that you invited yourself. It was the closest you had to friends around Kattigat – you wouldn’t count Ragnar as your friend as he was your King.

Torvid was basically bursting with excitement by now. “All correct, my dearest sister. Ragnar has invited us over to eat with him and his family at the celebration tonight! Bjorn has come back in all his glory and we shall be introduced to him!”

Ríkví stiffened a bit before shaking her head slightly. It was too much of an honour for them to be invited to sit the the King’s family at an event like this. They couldn’t possibly accept it – but there was also no way of refusing Ragnar. She also had heard rumours and stories about his eldest son: That he once fought a bear on his own and only got a scar from it. That he was basically invincible and left any place they raided riddled with death. She wasn’t too sure if she should be excited to meet this kind of a man.

[the-marvel-imagines-blog]

Madness | Chpt. 19

Chapter Title: “A Bleeding Rose”

Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character (Eva)

Word Count: 12,364 (I got really carried away)

Warnings: slight angst (what’s new?), treason, mentions of violence, some madness...

Name Pronunciations: Hjalmar: “He-all-mar” | Aaldir: “All-deer” | Ephinea: “Eh-fin-ee-uh”

Summary: Upon returning to Asgard with Harley and Kaia, Eva is surprised to discover where loyalties lie throughout Asgard, and she finds that her plan to visit her beloved has been made easier than she thought it would be.

A/N: I’m sorry for the longer wait this time. I’ve been in Maine for the past few days, and I just got back yesterday afternoon only to be met with the normal chaos. I drew a lot of inspiration from the ocean, and I plan to pour that into my writing over the coming chapters and some oneshots/imagines. Once again, thank you all so, so, so much, and I hope you enjoy this installment <3

Tagged: @teddyboobear @alledeglyfunny @xletmetaste-yoursmilex @itsknife2meetu @mynameisyara @j-j-ehlby-writes @jillilama-blog (anyone who wants to be tagged can message me and ask. It’s not a problem at all)

After a full day running through the woods, making friends with the wolves, horses, and other gifts of nature that were contained within the large spanse of forest, father called me inside. Childhood was too boring for me, especially since Hjalmar was old enough to wield a sword, and I wasn’t. Hjalmar was allowed to train with the eldest prince already, but father was always certain that my next nameday would bring about an age where I could learn to fight with my brother. It was always the next nameday, and when that one came around, it was postponed to the next one, and so on. I had met Loki that morning in the garden, and he snuck out of the palace to run through the forest with me. The animals within the woods settled when in my presence, so Loki could get close enough to pet them. They always liked him anyway, just as I did.

Loki always got into trouble for leaving the confines of the palace, just like I did for leaving the walls of my home. Our punishments were different, though. Father didn’t yell at me, but he spoke to me with a sternness that let me know how dangerous the outside world was. He tried to explain the unexplainable. His reasoning was something I didn’t understand. I had seldom seen Asgard in all her beauty. I saw the rivers and brooks, the inside of the palace when the queen invited me to join her, the beauty of the trees, the life of the forest, but I never saw the bustling streets of Asgard or the famous rainbow bridge. I wanted to explore, but I wasn’t allowed. Loki wasn’t supposed to leave the palace, but he did. Often times, we would lay on opposite sides of the shrubs that separated the castle garden and the forest, and we would speak to each other or just bask in the calmness of knowing that there was someone close.

I’d always fancied the younger prince, ever since I could remember, but I knew that it wasn’t my place to speak of those feelings. He was a prince, and I was a common girl with nothing to my name. I had nothing to give him other than an adventure. Father didn’t know of my feelings for the young prince, which was beneficial. It meant that he wouldn’t try to keep us apart. He wouldn’t put an end to my adventures in the woods or the many occasions when my father would invite Loki and Thor over to our humble cottage to give Thor time to train with Hjalmar and Loki time to roam the forest with me. I didn’t want to think of giving up the time I spent with him, or the places we explored. I didn’t want there to be an end to our friendship, but so many of the good things in my life did just that: came to an end.

I sat in front of the fireplace with father, upset that I was being confined to the house once more. There was no true anger that I felt for my father, but I was mildly irritated that Hjalmar wasn’t held to the same standards as I was. Hjalmar could venture out into the world beyond the forest, but I wasn’t allowed, “I know that you like the woods, Eva, but...you can’t run about all the time. The world isn’t meant for you to explore,” he told me, his voice as gentle as he could make it when his words were anything but. He knew that the rule broke my heart, that it slowly broke my spirits, but he also knew that it was a rule I couldn’t follow.

“But Hjalmar gets to explore all the time!” I cried, my voice threatening to give way to my emotions, “why is it that I’m kept hidden in this cottage? Why can’t I see the world? Why can’t I wander the woods? Why am I not allowed to do as Hjalmar does?” I asked, truly not understanding the reasoning behind the vastly different lives we lived.

Father grasped my shoulders in his firm, calloused hands, hands that had seen so much war, so much pain, “I want you to explore, Eva. I want you to be as free as Hjalmar. I want you to wander the woods and make friends with the animals and the trees. I want you to see Asgard and all she has to offer. I want you to run and play without boundaries, but there need to be boundaries because...the people of Asgard won’t understand you,” he explained, trying to be delicate with my heart. One thing I knew about my father was that he always tried to avoid causing harm, and it was especially true for his children.

I shook my head, my bottom lip quivering, “but they’ll never understand me if I’m locked away.”

When my eyes opened, the light of the Bifrost had faded away, and I stood before Heimdall once more in Asgard. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of the two Midgardian children who clung to my body. While I knew that he had watched me struggle with grasping the sad reality that the children would experience should I leave them on Midgard alone, he was still shocked that I followed through with my plan to bring them back to Asgard. While I was known to bend the rules and keep secrets from Odin, I wasn’t a criminal. I followed the laws of the land, but bringing Midgardian’s back to Asgard was a crime, a crime Heimdall didn’t expect me to make. I also wasn’t known for leaving alone and returning with others. In fact, it was the other way around, “we’re home,” I whispered to Harley and Kaia.

Kaia lifted her head from my shoulder, and Harley turned around. Both of their eyes fluttered open to take in the beauty of Heimdall’s observatory as well as the man who inhabited it. The gold armor that clung to his skin was reflected in Kaia’s blue eyes, and her jaw hung slack as disbelief filled her. I released my grasp on her, and placed her down onto the floor of the observatory next to Harley. Their eyes scanned the intricate designs of the walls as my attention turned to Heimdall. Even though he was shocked by their presence, he still offered them a warm gaze before turning it to me. I could sense no anger or frustration from him, which was unexpected since I knew that I had broken the law. He looked almost relieved by the decision I had made, almost like the old version of myself was coming back to life, the part of me that I thought had died when I forfeited my life.

Before we could exchange greetings, he spoke, “there are two guards outside Ezra’s cell in the dungeons, Sten and Erna; two standing guard at the top of the stairs, Ingvild and Magni; and two at the bottom of the stairs, Ephinea and Leif. There’s a horse waiting for you right outside the observatory, and Sindri is waiting at the palace stables for your arrival,” he explained, clearly understanding my intentions for returning to Asgard. While it took me by surprise, Heimdall had always been partial to Loki and I, even after Loki’s betrayal. He cared for us and believed in us the way Odin failed to. I watched my eyes brighten in the reflection of Heimdall’s amber ones, “each of the guards in the castle will allow you safe passage to the dungeons. They’re all expecting you and have given their word to not say a single word about your presence to anyone, not even to the King himself. Ephinea may have used a few empty threats, but they didn’t need much persuading. You’d be surprised where loyalties lie throughout Asgard,” he explained.

His words caught me off guard. It was shocking to hear that so many people-so many of Odin’s Kingsguard-would willingly keep secrets from their King just for me. Heimdall had obviously heard of my plans and sensed my urge to return to Asgard and spend time with my love, so he did the heavy-lifting for me in order to give me more time. Heimdall, the one who followed orders, would be disobeying his King, and it was for me. While I wanted to ask him what made me so special, I knew that it would be doing him a disservice. He did all of the planning in order to give me the time I desired with Loki, so to waste the precious time I did have would’ve been undermining all the work he had done

 Instead, as I passed him, I grasped his right shoulder with my right hand and gave a slight bow of my head. When I lifted my eyes back to him, I watched as his gaze landed on my hand, and a warmth blossomed between us like it used to before I built up the walls around my heart-before my innocence was lost. It was a breath of fresh air. I could sense his joy-the pride-that built up in his chest. His eyes reconnected with mine again, “before you destroy his cell to get to him, just ask Ephinea to open it. I gave her the code before you arrived,” he advised me, once more showing me how loyal he was to me. His voice lowered to nothing more than a whisper, “the children...I don’t need to tell you that it’s against Asgardian law for them to be here. Our king-”

I cut him off, “he is my king no longer,” I hissed, thinking about what he had done to myself and my family for so long. If Ezra was truthful, and my visions were correct, Odin had torn my family apart, ripped me away from my only family. If he had no great love and care for me before, how could I assume that my actions would be overlooked? The repercussions of my decision to bring Harley and Kaia back with me would be serious. If Odin were to find out about the Midgardian presence on Asgard, he could have me tried and thrown into the dungeons for an indefinite amount of time. I could be banished from Asgard, or the children could even be sent back to Midgard.

If he tried to take them from me, though, he would be met with a fury and rage that Asgard has never known before. I knew what I was willing to do for the ones I cared about, and Odin wouldn’t receive any special pardon just because he sat upon a throne. He had betrayed me after I pledged my life and sword to him. If my visions were true, he had betrayed me and my family before I had even outgrown my bassinet. He wasn’t my king. I sighed, knowing that Heimdall didn’t deserve my exasperation, “my hand was forced on this matter. They will be under my protection here. I will leave them with my father in the forest, and he will see to it that they are kept hidden there,” I whispered, not wanting to alarm Harley and Kaia. They had known too much fear in their lives, and they didn’t deserve anymore of it.

Heimdall gave a curt nod of his head, understanding that this was who I had always been. I knew that he hadn’t forgotten me, the person I was before my heart was torn apart. He trusted my judgement, “your secrets will never be upon my lips, my princess. The Allfather will never hear of this from me,” he promised.

“Thank you, Heimdall,” I muttered, my appreciation clear on my face. His loyalty to me had never wavered, and I knew it wouldn’t start now. He had always been the most surprising comrades. For a man who was sworn to be true to the throne, he had often ignored that oath to show his loyalty to me. He kept my secrets, lied to Odin about my whereabouts with Loki when we left for Midgard, used the power of the Bifrost to help me, and defended my honor to Odin time and time again. He placed his faith in me and knew that I wouldn’t fail him.

With one final nod of approval from him, I lifted Kaia into my arms and grasped Harley’s hand before hurrying out of the observatory. Like Heimdall had said, there was a horse waiting right outside for me. Small gasps emitted from Harley and Kaia as they took in the wonder of Asgard. Even though I’d seen it countless times, each time I returned, the view seemed even more beautiful than before. I fell in love with the landscape time and time again. No matter how much indifference I felt for the Allfather, I couldn’t deny the beauty that was my home. As Harley and Kaia took in the sights of the golden palace and all that surrounded it, I lifted them onto the horse before hoisting myself up onto the back of the majestic beast behind them.

The ride to the modest cottage in the forest was familiar. It was a ride I had taken time and time again throughout my life, but my fear of returning home with two children in tow was similar to the fear I felt returning home without Hjalmar with me. The path leading up to the cottage was dark, lit only by the shimmering lights in the sky that reached through the forest canopy and down to where we were. When we were close enough to the cottage, I saw that there was that familiar torch still lit outside. Each time one or both of his children were away from home, he would light the torch at night. He told us that-should we return in the middle of the night-the torch would be there to guide us through the darkness and back home to him. He lit it each night until I decided to return home after Hjalmar’s death, but there were other times he lit it when Hjalmar and I were both safe at home. On the same day each year-shortly after my nameday-he would light the torch, and it would be left burning until the morning. When I asked him about it, he’d cast a knowing look at Hjalmar, but he would never utter a single word of it to me. It was a tradition that happened all my life, but I never understood it.

Right before I made it to the cottage, the front door swung open, revealing my father. His shoulder-length, dark hair was pulled back into a small bun, much like the one Hjalmar used to wear. A smile was clear on his face once I got close enough, but that contagious smile fell when he saw the two children I had brought back with me. The look on his face wasn’t one of disappointment, but it was one of understanding and mild concern. The law I was breaking was a serious one, but if my visions were correct, he had bent the rules in his favor a handful of times. I learned from my father. I brought home stray animals all the time in my childhood, wanting to give them a good, happy life. Now, I was bringing home children in hopes to do the same.

Pulling on the reins, the horse came to a halt, and I leapt from her back, guiding Harley and Kaia off of her and onto the sturdy ground below us. Once I had steadied them, I turned my attention over to Aaldir, who stood with tears in his eyes, “father,” I breathed out, my voice quivering in unchecked emotions. I closed every ounce of space that sat between us and threw my arms around his neck. His strong arms wrapped around my waist, and he lifted me off the ground, holding me tightly against him.

“My little wolf,” he greeted me in a whisper, his voice calm and quiet as he kept the nickname between the two of us. Even after he lowered me back down to the ground, I kept my arms wrapped tightly around him, not wanting to let go. I had so many questions to ask him, so many words to say to him, so much to learn from him. I hadn’t seen him in what felt like years but what was only a few days. In that time, though, I was left with so much uncertainty and instability, and I needed his guidance once more. For the first time in my life, I was afraid of myself. For the first time in my life, I was afraid of what I was capable of and the impact it could have on others. Aaldir was my rock, my foundation, my guide, my protector. No matter how many namedays I celebrated, I would always need him by my side.

His hands snaked between us, breaking the hold I had on him. He cupped my cheeks in those calloused hands, pressing his lips to my forehead. My erratic heartbeat became clear to me, and I wondered how long it had been like that for a moment, but it finally began to fall into a steady rhythm in my chest. He pressed his forehead against mine, mirroring what I had done to Harley and Kaia in order to settle their nerves as well as what my father had always done to me, “I’m so glad you’re home, little one,” he rejoiced in a low voice, causing his chest to rumble. A smile spread across his lips as he spoke the words of joy, but I knew that I would be forced to break that joy.

“Actually,” I began, pulling away from him and casting my gaze over at the children I had brought back with me. My eyes flickered between them, and I offered them a comforting smile, wanting them to feel as at-home as they possibly could. I turned my attention back to my father, “I’m only returning for the night. I came to see Loki and to bring them here...where they will live under my protection,” I confessed, not wanting him to get his hopes up that I was finished with my business on Midgard. There was still a very real possibility that I wouldn’t return home, and that was why I was trying to tie up every loose end I could find. I didn’t want there to be a single word unsaid or a stone unturned, which was why I would visit Loki and confront him as myself, instead of an illusion.

He sighed, the smile fading from his lips as I anticipated it would. He turned his attention over to the two small children before him, still standing patiently at the side of the horse, “so, who’s going to introduce me to the newest additions to the family?” he asked, a sincere, paternal smile spreading across his lips. He knew what I was doing by bringing them here. Even though it could be detrimental to my reputation and safety, he understood why I needed to make my decision.

I nodded my head, walking back to stand between Harley and Kaia. It was clear that neither children had too much experience with strangers, which was a good thing, but I knew how sudden all of this would feel for them. It was probably best to bring them to Asgard in the dead of night, when the majority of the population was asleep. If I decided to bring them back during the day, they would’ve been even more overwhelmed by the amount of people in the streets of Asgard. Still, this was an entirely new world for them and a new person who would be introduced into their lives. It was a lot to take in, but I knew that my father would be gentle with them. He knew how to make people feel at ease.

Kaia clung to my legs, and Harley wrapped his arms around my waist, both children trying to hide their faces against my body, “this is Harley and Kaia,” I introduced them to my father, gesturing between the two of them. I gazed down at them before gesturing over to my father, “and this is Aaldir, the man who raised me...my father,” I introduced him to them.

Aaldir knelt down onto the ground, understanding that his height-which was equal to that of my late brother, and thus slightly greater than that of the God of Thunder himself-could be intimidating to such small humans. His frame relaxed, and he made himself smaller, more approachable. His eyes flickered over to Harley, “you, young one, look like a little warrior already. I suppose you’ll teach me more than I’ll end up teaching you,” he laughed, and I watched as a proud smile spread across Harley’s face. My father had a way with people, with easing their nerves and making them feel welcome no matter what the circumstances. He was a force to be reckoned with when he was angry, and he was one of the greatest warriors Asgard had ever seen; however, throughout all my life, he made it clear that he was a father and a caretaker before anything else. He reminded me of my younger years as he spoke to the children.

Before he looked back up at me, his eyes caught Kaia’s little blue ones, and he gazed up at me, “you, my fair little lady, will be a princess one day, or you may even be a warrior like your brother. If you’re lucky, you can even have both, like my daughter,” he whispered, gesturing over to me. I never understood how people could use the term “princess” so loosely that they would associate it with me; however, I didn’t care much for semantics. Aaldir’s eyes flickered between Harley and Kaia, “both of you will have beautiful futures here on Asgard, and I’m going to make sure of it,” he promised, his eyes soft and welcoming just as they had always been. Everyone who was ever lost could find a home in our little cottage. My father loved to host people, and as long as he was around, no one ever went without. If I didn’t return from Midgard, I was calmed by the knowledge that he would take care of Harley and Kaia the same way he took care of Hjalmar and I. They would live prosperous lives, lives filled with joy and laughter.

Kaia was the first to break away from me, her arms dropping from where they had once been wrapped tightly around my legs. I didn’t try to hold her back from closing the distance between her and my father because I knew that he would never bring harm to any child, especially not ones I was taking in under my protection. Kaia’s eyes scanned his body before she moved over to him as slowly as the breeze on a lazy summer morning. She was testing the waters, still unsure of him. It was so different from how she was with me, immediately running up to me and throwing herself onto me. As soon as she stood face-to-face with my father, she reached up and cupped his cheek. A smile spread across his lips, and his brilliant white teeth were exposed for a moment. It was a rare occurrence when he smiled like that, but with them, he did, “hello there, little bird,” he mused, mimicking the nickname I had given to her.

“I know you, too,” she murmured, wrapping her arms around his neck as a sign that she was ready to give her full trust to him, much like she did with me.

His large arms encased her little body, and he smiled to himself. It was a sense of pride that he was accepted into her heart, and it was similar to how I felt upon meeting both Harley and Kaia. He stood up, lifting her up off the ground and holding her against his side. His eyes locked with Harley’s, “would you like to come inside?” he asked, his voice soft.

Harley nodded his head slowly, slightly hesitant. I knew that everything was so new to them, and Harley was having a difficult time accepting the changes. I had taken him to a new realm, and I was introducing him to a new man. He was comforted by the fact that I knew Aaldir. Harley had faith in me, and I had faith in my father, meaning that Harley-in a roundabout way-had faith in my father as well. He trusted me not to put him in danger, and I’d never break that trust. I rested my hand on Harley’s shoulder and kept him close to me as we walked inside. The fire was still crackling in the fireplace, and the sound alone brought me back to the countless nights Hjalmar and I would sit by the fire as the rain poured down against the roof. He would wrap an arm around me and hold me close as my eyes studied the flames that licked the cobblestone.

I took my seat on one of the chairs in front of the fireplace, and my father took a seat in the one right across from me. Kaia climbed out of my father’s lap and curled up onto my own while Harley sat at my feet on the floor, wringing his hands in his lap. There was seating around the fireplace that he could’ve taken up, but I knew this behavior well. He found himself in a new place, and he wanted to attach to what was familiar. I held Kaia close and ran my fingers through Harley’s hair. My father smirked, “it’s a modest little cottage, but this is where I raised my children. It’s much more inviting and beautiful during the day, and there’s always plenty to do,” he explained, gesturing around the house.

I nodded my head in agreement, “this place-this little cottage-will be your new home as well,” I added, gazing down into the beautiful, wonder-filled eyes of the children I was able to protect, ones who I wouldn’t fail, “the house of fear and pain you both grew up in will never be replicated here. You’ll never know hunger, abuse, or loneliness again. This is a place where you will be loved, protected, and cared for. You will know warmth and joy,” I promised, brushing Harley’s hair back before gazing into Kaia’s eyes, “you will be free to live as children. You will receive an education that is tailored to you, and I’m going to support you in whatever lies ahead,” I continued, knowing that support, love, and protection was what they needed in order to grow into the people I knew they could be.

“When you wake up in the morning, you will be introduced to the life we lead here. My father will show you both around the cottage and the land we tend to. Perhaps he’ll even bring you to the tree and tell you the story of it as he once did with me at a young age,” I suggested, glancing over at my father with a raised brow, “but for tonight, I must leave you. I have matters to tend to at the palace, and it’s already far too late for you two to still be awake,” I stated, smiling down at them to ease the tensing nerves I sensed when I mentioned that I’d have to leave them again. It was similar to when I mentioned it before tucking them both into bed. When I was finished in the dungeons, I’d head back to Midgard, so this could potentially be the final time they saw me. Still, I had complete faith that-should I perish on Midgard-my father would take care of them and raise them as he did me.

Neither of them protested the plan, but they just brought themselves closer to me. As soon as Kaia let out a little yawn, her eyelids becoming heavier over her doe blue eyes, I knew that it had been the longest day of their lives. So much had transpired, and they were both ready for bed. The warmth of the fire, the smell of the hot cobblestone mixed with the smell of the forest that was carried in by the soft breeze, and the sound from our family stable and the rustling leaves were enough to make anyone tired. I lifted Kaia up, settling her body on my hip, and I held my hand out for Harley. Once he rose to his feet, I led him into my bedroom, opening the door to reveal the place I grew up. It was my little section of the cottage, a place that belonged to me. Surely, my father would end up building onto the house once more to make extra room-a plan he spoke of often-but for the time being, Harley and Kaia needed a place to rest their heads.

I lowered Kaia into the bed first, watching as she nestled into the warmth of the blanket and pillows. Loki always teased me for the sheer amount of blankets and pillows I always requested on any bed we shared, but he was no better. Once Kaia was settled into the bed, Harley climbed in next to her, pulling the blankets up to his chin. I situated myself on the edge of the bed next to Harley, “I’m going to return before daybreak to see you both prior to me going back to Midgard. Don’t wait up for me, though. My business at the palace will take some time, and you both need your sleep. The man I’m leaving you with is the man who raised my brother and I, so I know the type of man he is. If I didn’t think he would treat you as his own, I wouldn’t be leaving you with him. He’s going to make you both feel at home here, and by the time he finishes showing you around tomorrow, I’ll be back, okay?” I asked, wanting to make sure they were as comfortable as possible before I left them.

“But you will come back, right?” Harley asked after nodding his head. There was a clear look of concern in his eyes, mirroring the concern he wore when I was preparing to leave with Tony. He was worried about me. It was the same worry I had when I was a child and my father was leaving for battle.

I knew that I couldn’t lie to them, but I also couldn’t let them down, not with their expectant eyes on me with so much hope. I sighed, knowing that my answer would need to be delivered in the most diplomatic way possible. It was a balancing act. I didn’t want to startle them by being too hopeful, but I also didn’t want to tell them about my situation with my sudden lack of strength and high probability of not returning, “I don’t know what the future holds, little one, but I do know that I have more reasons to return now than ever before,” I answered, grasping onto his hand as my eyes flickered between the two of them, the two additional reasons for me to fight as hard as I could.

I leaned forward and pressed my lips against his forehead, lingering there for a moment as I tried to pour every ounce of maternal love I had into that one simple gesture. When I pulled my lips away, I rested my forehead against his own for a fleeting moment before moving on and repeating the process with Kaia. I transferred the most beautiful dreams to both of them, wanting them to sleep soundly without the fear that had continuously plagued them. I sat upright on the bed, gazing down at them, and the memory of my meeting with Frigga after Hjalmar’s death resurfaced. She spoke the comforting words I wished I had heard from him, comforting words that I would carry with me for the rest of my life. In that moment with the children, it was my turn to pass on that wisdom to them, “know that if something happens-if I don’t return-that nothing truly dies, it simply retires for a while only to return again when we need it most. If I don’t return, look to nature, and you’ll always find me there,” I smiled, “I love you both so much that nothing-not even death itself-could part me from you.”

The plan at the stables worked exactly how Heimdall said it would. Sindri, the man who was in charge of the palace stables, waited patiently for my arrival. While he couldn’t hide his joy that I had returned, he didn’t make a scene about it, either. There was a joy in his eyes that I’d only seen when the common people looked at Thor or Odin. They were almost...awe-struck. I didn’t understand why I received the same attention, but it was clear to see that I held a place in certain hearts around Asgard. Sindri whispered to me about how glad he was that I had returned, even if it was only for a short time, and as he stumbled over his words, I wrung my hands slightly, feeling the anticipation creeping up with the thoughts of seeing Loki in person once again. The previous time hadn’t ended well at all, so I was taking another calculated risk.

I handed the beautiful, chestnut mare away, understanding why Heimdall had chosen one that was so plain. It was so that just in case anyone had caught a glimpse of the horse, they wouldn’t know if it was me. My own horse, Aria, was pale white. She had carried me into battle more times than I could count, and she left the battles with me, oftentimes covered in blood. She came to me in the strangest of ways, too. There was one night, late in the evening, when I heard a voice in the forest that sounded familiar but foreign all at the same time. It was the voice of a woman, but I couldn’t decipher her message. Instead of waking my father and brother to accompany me, I grabbed a torch and wandered through the woods, following the strange voice. It seemed to pull me in each direction, never staying in one place, almost like the voice wanted me to get lost.

Every step I took that night felt like I was growing both closer and farther away from the voice I desperately wanted to make myself acquainted with. With each step, though, her voice became clearer, even when it did seem to distance itself from me. My name was upon her lips, an enchanting sound that I hadn’t heard before then, but it was a sound I had familiarized myself with through my visions of the past. While I didn’t know who it was at the time, I knew her now. Death. That night, Death called to me, lured me into the forest, and left me a gift. Her voice did nothing but pull me in. Each time I heard it, whether I was dreaming, having a vision, or in the comfort of my own home, her voice captivated me and left me unable to fight back the urge to seek her out.

When I had finally reached that familiar tree-the tree of life and death-the voice suddenly stopped as I gazed upon the beautiful horse. She was magnificent. Her body looked strong, and she was taller than any horse in Asgard, but she was more agile than any other, too. She was a majestic beast with a pale white coat and an ashen mane and tail. She was beautiful, strong, and brave. She was a creature infused with a strange sorcery. She had received wounds and blows that would’ve killed any other stallion or mare, wounds that should have killed her, but she continued on, strong as ever. By the time I brought her back home, her wounds had healed completely, and she was only left in her blood, my blood, or the blood of others who perished on the battlefield. She was famous for being my horse, so when she was seen around Asgard, people knew I was present. That was the last thing I needed when I was trying to sneak around.

With my gown flowing behind me, I walked through the halls of the palace as quickly as possible, passing by a plethora of guards who simply gave small nods as I passed by, but they never brought any attention to me as they normally did. Normally, most of the guards would strike up a conversation, but that night was different. It was just as Heimdall had said. My presence wouldn’t be spoken of in the morning. The guards would keep my secrets, looking in the opposite direction as if they were oblivious. As I padded through the winding halls of the palace, trying to avoid the places I feared I’d be caught by Frigga or Odin, I passed by one of the many balconies Loki and I had stood upon to gaze out at the world we loved so dearly, a world that never fully accepted us.

Upon crossing that balcony, I cast my eyes out to catch a glimpse of Asgard only to find that the balcony had not been empty. With her back facing me, I hoped not to catch the attention of my queen, the woman who helped raise me, the woman who knew more about me than almost anyone else. I knew that Frigga had often taken late night strolls through the castle, which was something I partook in when I spent the night in Loki’s chambers-a frequent occurrence. When the moon hit a certain position in the sky, I knew that it was time to leave the warm arms of my life, dress myself, and walk the halls of the palace with his mother, listening to stories of his boyhood. Most of the memories were ones I had been present for, as there had rarely been a moment Loki and I weren’t together, but there were others as well: beautiful moments.

Not wanting to risk being caught and kept from my plans to visit Loki, I tried to step back as quickly as possible. There were other ways to the dungeons, other hallways that wouldn’t result in my presence being discovered by the Allfather. I knew the palace like the back of my hand, almost as if I had grown up there. While Odin rarely appreciated my presence within the walls of the castle when I was a child, Frigga argued on my behalf time and time again, telling him that it was just as much my home as it was Thor and Loki’s. She knew that wherever Loki was, that was where I wanted to be, regardless of where that was-in the middle of the beautiful palace gardens, or in the middle of the battlefield.

Before I could walk away, her voice pierced through the silence, “your presence has been missed greatly throughout Asgard,” she murmured as she turned around to face me, “the people here feel lost without you,” she added, a smile forming on her lips as her eyes took me in. The dress I wore was one Frigga had made for me upon my request. She often sent tailors to the cottage in the woods to inquire about new gowns, and the one I stood in front of her in was one I hadn’t worn in too long. It was the one I wore on the last beautiful day, the day my life came crashing down, the day I realized I’d have to face so much on my own, the day Loki left. Loki had often called the gown ethereal, and every time I wore it, he reacted as if it was the first time he laid eyes on me.

Knowing that I’d been caught, my heart sank. There was a very real possibility that she would divulge the news of my return to Odin, and I wouldn’t be able to visit Loki as I had planned. I forced a half-hearted smile onto my lips, trying to keep myself from crying. All the planning that Heimdall had done, all the oaths the guards were breaking, all the people who turned a blind eye to my presence to allow me the freedom I desired-their efforts would be in vain. Frigga motioned for me to join her on the balcony, and she turned around once more to face the wide open horizon. I took my place next to her as I had done so many times before. She often found Loki and I on the same balcony, the two of us dreaming of the world we would create together. Her voice sounded from beside me, “I understand you’re on your way to see him, and I don’t want to impede on the already limited time you have with him. I just hope you know that I’m glad you’re back, even if it’s only for tonight.”

My breath hitched in my throat as I gazed over at her, the moonlight catching a stray lock of hair that brushed against her cheek. My eyebrows furrowed as I thought of why she had always taken my side. Keeping my secrets was nothing new for Frigga, but I didn’t know whether or not I could expect the same kindness upon returning from Midgard after leaving in some of the more dire circumstances. A part of me felt like I had abandoned my people, the people I looked after for more than a thousand years, and I was certain they would see it in a similar light. Only a handful of people understood my love for the Midgardians, and even fewer understood why I would sacrifice my life to protect even one of them. Frigga was one of those people, but I didn’t expect her to be so welcoming after my “betrayal” of sorts. In a time when Asgard was in need of our best defenses, I disappeared to Midgard. Why would she extend a hand to me? What made me special in the first place? I cocked my head to the side, “you’re not going to tell the Allfather?”

She smirked as a feather-light chuckle was held back by her lips. Blue eyes that I’d stared into a thousand times throughout my life when I needed guidance locked onto mine, “you’d be surprised where loyalties lie around Asgard, my dear,” she murmured, her words mimicking those of Heimdall after he described the plan he helped devise for me. Frigga made it abundantly clear that she had been in on that plan, and I knew, deep down, that she must’ve played one of the most vocal roles in it. She brought her hand up to rest on my shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze, “I do what I believe to be right, and I believe in you and my son, my little trickster. Go to him,” she urged me, gesturing to the hall I had once inhabited before our encounter.

I glanced back at the hall, feeling just how close I was to Loki, how close I was to what could be the end of my life. There was so much that was left to do, so much that was left to be said. Loki and I lived so many beautiful years together, and the idea that this could very well be my last time to be with him made me want to postpone it and hurl myself right into it all at once. There was also the fear that he could’ve changed his mind again. Since he left me that day in the garden, there had been a constant back and forth between the two of us. How was I supposed to know if his feelings were still the same as they were when I visited him in his moment of fear and need? Before I could bring myself to move, my eyes met Frigga’s hopeful ones once more, “could I ask something of you?”

“I will check on them both first thing in the morning,” she answered before I could even ask the favor of her. She knew exactly what I was going to request: that she look out for the children I brought back with me. I didn’t know how she knew about them, but I’d never been able to keep secrets from Frigga for very long, “do you think you’re the only one who watches?” she asked, clearly referencing the amount of time I spent at the edge of Asgard, inquiring about the many souls I looked after. Loki was one of those souls as well. When he cut all ties with me, I still wanted to keep an eye on him, to make sure he was okay. I’d ask Heimdall to check in on him every night when I snuck out to his observatory. Frigga broke me away from my thoughts, “when you’re gone, I keep a close eye on you just as you do everyone else. I knew you’d be bringing them back from the first moment you laid eyes on Harley. I’ll have clothes made for them immediately, and they will be taken care of until you return home. While you’re on Midgard, I want you to focus on nothing aside from making it back to us, so know that they’ll be in good hands.”

Without fully understanding why she would be so kind to me, I was overcome with so much joy to have someone like her on my side. It drove home what I’d always known. Frigga would have my back and support me in every single thing I ever endured, every journey I ever embarked on. I threw my arms around her, breathing in the familiar scent of her. It was a feeling of comfort, a moment of peace I had in a time that seemed so chaotic. Frigga had-for my entire life-been the only mother I’d ever known. She did what I dreamed my own mother would’ve done for me. The thoughts of my own mother, the mystery surrounding her and her identity, brought up the many visions once more. I tried to suppress those thoughts as Frigga’s arms wrapped around my waist, “if you decide to bring someone else back home...I still have the dress I made for her as well.”

*Loki’s POV*

I laid in bed, my back facing the cell wall that would remain sealed until the day I died. Odin would never release me, nor should he. I didn’t deserve another sunrise, not after all I had done, but I’d be lying if I claimed not to yearn for the warmth against my face once more, or the cool night air against my cheeks as I ran through the woods with my love. I faced away from the wall partly to keep myself from facing the people I once knew as friends and partly to avoid the ever-watchful eyes of Ezra. His manipulation was continuing to take its toll on me. I had to constantly keep my mind locked up in order to keep him out, but it also meant that I was keeping Eva out as well, a person I never wanted to push out again.

Every time I closed my eyes since that night, I saw the same view of her dead body on the streets of Asgard. I couldn’t sleep because I was forced to relive that nightmare, hearing her scream out to me for help, seeing her lifeless body covered in blood. It was the most intimate pain he could’ve put me through. It was as if he could just sense what I was most afraid of and use that fear against me. My greatest fear always had been and always would be the thought of losing her. Thanos knew it, and Ezra discovered it. I had done heinous things when Eva’s life was on the line. Thanos used that fear against me in order to control me, and when I slipped far enough into the madness, he didn’t even need to use that fear anymore.

In my state of madness and delusion, I told myself that I was far too damaged at that point for her to ever love me again, so I began my path of destruction and chaos. I took my anger and pain out on everyone else in my wake, tearing apart the lives that I promised to protect at one point. Her and I had made sacred oaths to do all we could to protect the people of Earth, believing them to be some of the most intriguing, fragile, and even resilient people. I tore that oath apart when I attacked New York. It was the day the madness tried to kill away the last part of who I was. The most terrifying thought was that Ezra could so easily build back up that fear and delusion because he knew what made me the most vulnerable.

Suddenly, there was a silence that fell upon the entire dungeon. Normally, the other prisoners were beating on their cell walls, yelling, trying to provoke a fight with one another, or trying to provoke fights with the guards. They were an unruly group, and Ezra was the only one who had been restrained in his time in the dungeons so far. His silence came as no shock to me, but the sudden silence that fell over everyone was uncharacteristic. Still, I couldn’t be bothered to even roll over to look at what had caused the sudden disruption. Instead, I continued staring at the wall where I had begun to hang Eva’s many letters, wanting to surround myself with their love. Even though I couldn’t have her presence in my mind, I could feel her presence through the beautiful words she had written to me over the millennia.

“Loki,” I heard that all-too-familiar voice from behind me. For a moment, I wondered if Ezra had broken past the walls of my mind once more, if I somehow had failed to keep him out. Still, I couldn’t pass up any opportunity to see her. Hoping it wouldn’t be a disembodied voice, I rolled over to see her standing inside my cell.

Knowing that it was impossible for her to actually be there, I sat up in bed, groaning as I pushed myself up. Either she was visiting me as an illusion-which would be incredible, since she was on Midgard-or Ezra was building up another horrific narrative that I’d be forced to go through. No matter what it was, I didn’t have the strength to have my heart broken once more. I turned my attention over to Ezra in his cell only to see that he was looking at her with just as much confusion and disbelief as the rest of the prisoners had. She was the only one who could ever silence them. Before my fall, Eva used to frequent the dungeons and speak to the prisoners, claiming that every living being deserved to experience life. By visiting them, she was restoring pieces of their humanity. They always stopped bickering and yelling when she arrived, and they did the same that night, “the illusions are cruel, Eva,” I growled as I narrowed my eyes at her, certain that it was a vision since Ezra looked to be taken aback by her presence. Still, if she was visiting me as an illusion, it didn’t make sense that other people were able to see her as well.

“It’s not an illusion,” she claimed, the side of her mouth pulling up into that crooked grin that I fell hard for in our younger years. Ever since our childhood, I was wrapped around her finger. Every free moment, we spent together. Even when we were meant to be busy doing other things, we found our way to each other. The crooked grin was one of those little quirks about her that I still found to be lovely.

“Pfft,” I scoffed, rolling my eyes at her claim, not believing her for a single second, though it would’ve made sense as to how the rest of the prisoners were able to see her, “and I’m going to be the King of Asgard someday,” I mocked, not wanting to get my hopes up. Holding her was something I yearned for since the very day I left her in the garden, since the day I broke her heart in two. However, I knew that I would die without receiving that connection again. I’d never be able to feel the delicate, sweet touch of my love ever again, and I’d never be able to feel that soft, supple skin against my own for the rest of my days. I deserved every ounce of punishment I was given. Odin didn’t want to put me out of my misery. He wanted me to live every single day with the guilt and shame I felt. Killing me would’ve been too merciful.

“I should probably start referring to you as ‘majesty’ then, shall I?” she asked, mocking me right back as she always had. Eva had never once given me a reason to question her. When she made promises, she kept them, and when she said something, she meant it. She wasn’t the type to lie or be deceitful, so it wouldn’t make sense for her to start now. Still sensing that I wasn’t fully convinced, that I wasn’t willing to throw myself at her feet until I knew-without the shadow of a doubt-that she was actually standing before me, she sighed, “close the doors of your mind. Shut me out. You’ve done it before,” she instructed me, referencing the handful of times when I had pushed her from my mind, when I strained the connection we had to one another. Eva always told me that we were bound together by a thread of stardust, and I was aware that whenever I pushed her away, it put pressure on that thread.

The process of shutting her out, of ripping her away from me, left me feeling cold and isolated. It took its toll on my emotions, but I wanted to prove her wrong in that moment. Coming to me as an illusion was one of the cruelest things she could’ve done, but she didn’t understand that, and she never should. It was similar to holding a piece of red meat in front of the face of a starving predator. I was starved for her touch, the feel of her gentle, loving, beautiful, sun-kissed skin against my own. I yearned to hold her, to wrap my arms around her just one more time, even though I’d be hard-pressed to let her go. I wanted to fall asleep in her arms, to hear her sing me to sleep as she had so many times before. A part of me would rather see nothing than see a vision of her.

My eyes connected with those brilliant green ones. Each time I saw them, they were more beautiful than last time, but they were also much more despondent. It was as if she took in the most breathtaking sights from her travels, and her eyes reflected that, but they also reflected the horror and sorrow she witnessed along with the beauty. So much of that pain happened after I left her in the garden, after I spoke with Odin, after I tore us apart in order to save us both from the long-term misery. Before that moment, the pain in her eyes wasn’t as prevalent. Her eyes were a window into her free-spirited soul, and I had a hand in tainting that.

As I closed my eyes, I came to terms with the fact that when I opened them, she wouldn’t be in my cell with me. The only two explanations as to how she was in my cell on that night was that Ezra put her in my head or that Eva was projecting herself to me. Either way, the process of closing my mind would push them both out, and she would be gone. A stray tear cascaded down my cheek as I wished for my suffering to come to an end. I wanted to hold her, and seeing her as a vision was a constant reminder that I’d never be able to do that again. It was a reminder that I threw away my one chance at happiness when I distanced myself from her. The woman who stood by my side was the one I cast away.

Upon opening my eyes, the pain having run its course, I expected to see an empty cell. Instead, I was caught off-guard to see that she was still present, a tender smile making its home on her lips. She still stood on the other side of my cell in the dress I found to encompass her eloquent beauty better than any other garment. She knew it was my favorite gown of hers, as it made her look like a proper goddess. When she wore it, we would often find our peace in the forest, and I’d busy myself making a crown of flowers, leaves, and twigs for her to wear. Upon placing the crown atop her head of wild, dark brown hair, I’d call her a proper wood nymph, which always elicited a laugh that spread happiness and joy into my very soul.

Before she could speak, before I could even comprehend that she was standing before me in the flesh, I shot out of the bed and scrambled over to her, throwing my arms around her slender frame. My arms wrapped tightly around her waist as I tried to pull her closer and closer into me. It was almost as if we would never be close enough until we molded into one being. Suddenly, my entire world felt like it exploded with life. As I held her, the colors in the room seemed to become more vivid than they had once been. I buried my face into her neck, breathing in the sweet smell of her. She always smelled of the forest, which wasn’t uncommon since she spent the majority of her time there, but she also smelled like a fresh spring morning. In those small details, I knew it wasn’t just a dream.

Her arms wrapped around me, holding me close to her as the joy overcame me and manifested itself in a way it had only a handful of times in the past. Tears began to freely fall from my eyes as I held onto the one thing I let go of because of my fear and pain. She was like a breath of fresh air when I was drowning, and even though I was undeserving of that, it didn’t mean I appreciated it any less. I shook my head, still in utter disbelief, as my tears soaked into her shoulder. It was as if every ounce of pain and grief had led up to that very moment, and I could truly feel just how heavy my actions weighed on her. I pulled away from her just enough to gather her face in my hands and turn her head up until our eyes met.

Her cheeks were wet with fresh tears, and I watched as droplets of both joy and sorrow continued to spill from her eyes. I shook my head, wiping them away with the pads of my fingers just as quickly as they were falling. The last thing I wanted was to see her cry, but the moment was overwhelming for both of us. For some reason, she missed me just as much as I missed her. It would’ve been easier on her heart if she just tossed me aside and forgot about me; however, I knew her well enough to know that she’d never do something so cruel...not like me. My bottom lip quivered as I held back a sob, “I’m sorry, Eva. I’m so sorry. I cannot say the words enough to make up for all the harm I’ve caused you, all the pain and suffering I’ve put you through. There was always a reason for it, but that reason is foreign to me now. I’ll spend my entire life trying to make it up to you,” I promised, pressing my forehead against hers and relishing in the feeling of her skin against my own. Gods, I missed that.

Before I could move away from her, she grasped the back of my neck, and in one swift motion, she pressed her lips against my own. It was very much like our first kiss. It started quickly, but the moment our lips met, we began to melt into one another. Our lips molded together perfectly, much like our bodies always had. After a passionate night, I would hold her close to me, our bodies fitting together like pieces of a puzzle that we both knew how to solve from the beginning. No matter how we held each other, our jagged edges just fit into the other perfectly. Our broken hearts still had plenty of room for each other, and I felt that once again. For the longest time, I debated whether or not she wanted to see me again, and if she saw me, I was sure we’d never again share the love we once had. My doubts were put to rest the moment she kissed me, though. The soft, tender touch of her lips against mine pulled me back to the man I was in the garden...

The man who stood before her with a ring in his pocket.

As the initial shock wore off, I gathered her body in my arms and pulled her flush against me. Her body arched into mine as our lips danced to a song only we knew the words to. Her right palm was flat against my cheek, and she draped her left arm over my shoulder and tangled her slender fingers into my wild black waves. The kiss was needy in a pure sense. Throughout the course of our lives, we were with each other. Even as children, we found comfort in each other far more than we found comfort being apart. We never spent more than a day without one another, and our love blossomed through that closeness. Being with her, I never felt lost. I always felt like I belonged somewhere, and that was in her warm embrace. She was my home. The kiss we shared was our acceptance that this was where we were meant to be: together.

“I wanted to hate you,” she confessed as she pulled away from the kiss that left the sweetest taste upon my lips. I continued to hold her against me, feeling that the closeness was what she desired more than anything in that moment. Her conflicted eyes met mine once more as she spilled her heart out to me, “I wanted to hate you so badly because maybe if I did, the pain would’ve died away, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t bring myself to hate you even after everything you had done, after all the promises you broke, after all the lives that were lost, after all the time that was taken away from us. It took me so long to understand that the man who did that-the man who broke my heart-wasn’t you. The man who tried to kill away my love took every ounce of happiness I’d ever felt in my life, but...I still love you because that wasn’t you,” she added, the tears continuing to stream down her cheeks.

I cast my eyes away from hers, unable to look at what I had done to the woman I loved so dearly. I never stopped loving Eva, even during our time apart. The thread that bound our hearts together had never been broken no matter how many times I tried to cut it. We were one being, and nothing I had done was able to change that. All it did was cause the two of us so much unneeded pain. My decisions, my corruption, my descent into madness had caused her so much unbelievable pain and agony, and I felt it all when I looked into her eyes. It was the first moment we were able to speak of the tragedy that plagued our relationship, and it pained me so deeply that I hurt the woman I promised to protect so many years prior. The hand that still rested on my cheek turned my head until our eyes met once more. She observed me, her eyes flickering between mine as I opened my mouth to speak, “if I could go back with all the knowledge I now possess, I would’ve forfeited the rest of my life if it meant saving you from the agony I put you through. You deserved the very best of me, and I failed you. I never would’ve pushed you away in the first place. I would’ve grabbed your hand and asked you to run away with me, but I didn’t. I think about that every single day.”

She shook her head, “listen to me when I tell you this, Loki,” she urged me, moving the hand that had once been tangled in my hair to rest against the other side of my face. She cradled my head in her strong, loving hands. That was one of the most stunning things about my beloved. Her strength never diminished her beauty, and her beauty never diminished her strength. They worked in perfect harmony. She was delicate and fragile, but she was also strong and brave. She was fierce and protective, but she was also tender and quiet. It was the most incredible phenomenon, and I was still left in awe when thinking about the woman I had the privilege of loving for so long, “the man you became was not who you are, and I know that. I know you better than I know myself. The man who did those things was hurt, angry, and full of grief, and he tried to push you aside to make room for himself.”

“The man who left me in the garden that day wasn’t the same man who picked a small bouquet of flowers every single day like it was the first time we were seeing each other. He wasn’t the same man who laid awake with me after a private night of love to dream of what our future family would look like. The man who hurt me wasn’t the same man who loved me. You taught me some of life’s most valuable lessons, Loki, and you did it by loving me. For a thousand years, you stood by my side and picked me up when I fell. Now, it’s my turn to show you that I’m prepared to do the same for you because I still love you after all this time, after all the space that has been put between us. Nothing and no one has ever been able to change that, and they never will. I’ve loved you since before the first star began to shine at the beginning of time, and I’ll love you long after the last one burns out.”

My hands cut between hers and I caressed her cheeks with my long fingers. They had always been one of her favorite things about me-my hands. I was unsure as to why she was so fascinated with them, but when she described her love for them, her poetic nature showed through time and time again. She claimed that from the very first moment we lost ourselves in each other, she watched my fingers whenever we spent the night together. My anticipation for our first night together was clear in the trembling of my fingers, which was something I found embarrassing, but it was something she found endearing and memorable. It happened in the moments of excitement, love, and fear. My fingers anchored themselves against her cheeks. One of her hands covered mine while the other rested against my chest, directly over my heart. I sighed, “I hurt you in ways I can never make up for, and I’ll be searching for redemption until I take my last breath, Eva. I’ll never be able to forgive myself for what I’ve done,” I confessed, tears continuing to stream down my cheeks.

“I’ve forgiven you, though,” she whispered, her voice like a feather-light touch in the early hours of the morning. Her eyes filled with the same determination I saw from her time and time again, but there was more clarity than ever before, “I forgave you for all of it the moment I saw that you were alive on Midgard. I forgave you for what happened in New York when I saw how much pain you were in. I’ve forgiven you, and I’m going to help you forgive yourself no matter what it takes.”

I shook my head, unable to understand how someone who was filled with so much light would venture into the darkness to meet me where I had been dwelling for so long. She was still the embodiment of righteousness and purity. She valued life above all else, and when she fought, she fought for life. On Midgard, she saw a side of me that wanted to ruin that, a side of me that was selfish and cruel. I didn’t understand why or how she could possibly forgive something so horrific, “I’m a monster,” I reminded her, stepping away from her and disconnecting our bodies from one another. The cold set in once more, but it was more shocking when I had finally experienced the warmth again.

Frustration filled her eyes as my words sunk in. She hated it when I used the word “monster” to describe myself, but it was the truth. I had always been a monster, and I was convinced that she had just been too blinded by our love to see that. I didn’t see my goodness the way she claimed to, and after everything I had done, everything I willingly took part in, there was nothing good left within me at all. She refused to let me go, though, “you’re the man I love, the only man I’ll ever love. You’re Loki, the God of Mischief, a Prince of Asgard. You’re one of the greatest sorcerers this realm has ever seen. You’re a poet, a composer, a work of art. You’re my love, my light, and my life,” she explained, closing the space between us, her eyes pleading with me to understand, “you are so much, Loki, but you’ve never been a monster.”

“What about New York?” I pressed, wanting her to see me for what I had done.

“You were a man who was taken advantage of by a monster, a man who was manipulated and torn to pieces. Do I wish that things had played out differently? Of course, I do, but I don’t have the time or the energy to think of what could have been when I’m with you right now, ready to show you all the love I’ve saved since the garden. Besides, the monster in New York wasn’t you...it was Thanos,” she hissed, his name like venom on her tongue. It was startling to hear her speak his name. That was a name I never wanted to hear on the tongue of my beloved. She knew of him, and that was too dangerous. All I could think of was that she would try to avenge me for what I went through prior to New York, and she would be killed in the process.

Her eyes flickered away from mine, and I noticed a hue in them that I’d never seen before. A hint of red, like the color of a bleeding rose, infiltrated the color of the meadow. I’d never seen anything like it before, but by the time she blinked, it was gone, and I wondered if it was only in my imagination. She cast her eyes back up to meet mine, and I saw the rage in her, “when I find Thanos-and I will-he’s going to beg for death when he sees what I do to him. I’m going to tear him apart and make him hurt in ways he’s never even imagined. All the pain I’ve felt over this will pale in comparison to what I will do to him, and when I’m finally done with him, when I’ve finally had enough, I’m going to rip his life apart. Every person he’s ever loved, ever cared for, ever spoken to will feel my fire. His memory will be eradicated from the universe before I kill him in the most brutal way imaginable. All the while, I plan to enjoy the way he screams, the way he begs for his life. He doesn’t know death yet; he hasn’t met me,” she ranted, catching me off guard.

In all our time with each other, in the thousand years we’d spent together, I had never heard a single word of hatred and contempt upon her lips. She was the most merciful, kind-hearted, gentle woman in the known and unknown universe. She breathed life and goodness into everything she did. To hear her speak so harshly about a man she had never met, a man who could end her life with the snap of his fingers, was horrifying. I knew that she was a force to be reckoned with, but I never expected to see so much hatred in a woman who showed nothing but love. The contempt in her eyes, the brutality in her voice, the violent desires she had, I knew it all. I knew that look. I knew those feelings. It was dangerous. It was chaotic. It was destructive. It was…

Madness.

[robin-djtmarouc]

Prompt 4: Called Out by his Wife-to-Be

@sea-wolf-coast-to-coast here’s the next one! cw for implied drug use, and abusive parents

Leif Prinion wasn’t like the other Warriors of Light. She wasn’t like her sister Pria, independent and wise. She wasn’t like Xieron, whose strength and loyalty were unmatched. She certainly wasn’t like Lavalia; their leader was a goddess made flesh. She was unmatched on the battlefield, a master of combat and a sense of justice that was unwavering. Leif was… just Leif. She’d joined the group because they needed her cane. She was a decent enough healer, though she lacked the combat experience that Ofir had, and she hated fighting. She was terrified in her role, and it was only through sheer force of will that she hadn’t fled at the first sign of conflict.

Pria was probably right that she was too young to be doing these things, but desperate times and all that. She wasn’t sure what she brought to the team, but the fact that she was less traveled than some of the others meant she could be an asset. This part of town was almost as scary as a charging dragon. She could feel eyes on her as she passed, and she pulled her cloak tighter around her. She was a young woman, alone, in a place that was known for all sorts of seedy dealings. Still, she pressed on. The ‘house’ – if it could be called that – was almost hidden. If it weren’t for the specific instructions she’d been given, she might have passed it by.

Find the house with the blue door. It will be next to a market stall selling dried herbs, and close to the aetherite.

Her heart was racing as she approached, and a low whistle pierced the air from the group of men across the ally. “Where you going, baby?” Leif reached down and touched the wand at her side. She thought about bolting, heart hammering in her chest, but chose instead to ignore the men, squaring her shoulders despite the fear that sank its icy fingers into her stomach. She raised her hand to knock, flinching when a voice came from behind her. “Hey! I’m talking to you!”

Leif turned, finding one of the men far too close. She took a step back, bumping against the doors. “B-back up.” She said, drawing her wand. Her heart was beating too fast. He steeped closer and she could smell the sour of his breath. Leif started murmuring a spell when the door behind her opened, sending her stumbling back against a firm chest. One hand pressed to her lower back to steady her. Silvairre glared at the man from the doorway.

“You, inside.” he slurred, pushing Leif behind him. “And you.” He reached back as if to grab his sword, but scowled when he only grabbed air. “Get off my steps and leave the lady alone or I will feed you your tongue.”

Leif barely had time to take in disarray of his home before he slammed the door so hard it knocked dust off the window beside it. Leif drew her cloak tighter around her, waiting for her eyes to adjust. The house was filthy. Clothes were strewn across the floor, and the smell of old food and sweat and something else she couldn’t place filled her nose.

Silvairre cursed, slumping against the doorway. “Are you all right?” Leif asked, stepping forward, one hand outstretched though she didn’t touch him.

“’m… was fine until you came and ruined my buzz.” He snapped. “Whatcha doin’ here Angel? Hero send you to collect?”

“I was worried about you.” Leif said simply. She took his arm, gently pulling him towards a nearby chair. It creaked when he dropped into it, but at least he wasn’t in danger of falling over.

“Well, clearly I’m fine.” He tried to stand again, but couldn’t seem to coordinate his limbs. Leif clicked her tongue and went to light the lantern. He hissed at the light, glaring at her. She could see him better now, the stains on his clothes and his too large pupils. She should have guessed that he would be high. The evidence of Somnus was still on the table.

“Are you? Because you left in a hurry after we saw your parents.”

“Is that why you’re here? I don’t want to talk about them. You can leave.”

“Listen, I get it, they want you to come back but-”

“You don’t get it!” he snapped. He tried again to get his feet under him and growled in frustration. His long, blue-grey hair hung in his face in a frizzy mess. “They decided that I was going to be one way and I decided another. I’m not going back. They can’t force me to marry some spoiled noble or be a proper anything.”

“I’m not asking you to talk to them...” Leif replied, “I just-”

“You just want? Thought you come here and have a tearful reunion? Thought that you’d save me like the good girl you are?”

“N-no, but-”

“You think that I shouldn’t be upset that my entire existence has been planned out for me, and I can’t even die without being dragged up for another fight. You think I like being like this. I should have died so long ago. Save everyone the trouble, and-”

"You're allowed to be upset, but that doesn't excuse you acting like an ass!" Leif snapped, ears twitching. "You act like you're the only one that's ever had to bend to obligation. If Pria and I had been able to stay in our village, I would have been given to the Watchers where I would spend the rest of my life in the forest. Alone. I would come into town to mate and then I would go back to patrolling, to hells with what I wanted. You don't see me acting like some entitled brat who thinks that just because things are hard you can just give up and hide in some hole! You made your choices, regardless of what led you to them, you made your choices, now own up to them." Silvairre didn’t say anything so she continued, “I’m not saying they aren’t overbearing or… whatever but you can’t just blame someone else because you’re miserable. I want to help you, and invite you to dinner because you obviously haven’t eaten, but you’re acting like a prick!” Tears burned in her eyes, and she swallowed them down.

Silvairre opened his mouth and closed it again. He couldn’t seem to find his words.

Leif was breathing hard, blonde curls bouncing, “You’re a part of this team, and no, your life isn’t perfect, but you are what you make it. You’re allowed to be upset and… I don’t know, I just don’t like seeing you self-destruct like this.” She squared her shoulders again, “So I’m going to go home. I’m making tomato soup. You’re welcome to join me,” she reached into her bag and pulled out a potion, setting it on the table in front of him with a sharp click, “once you sober up.” She expected him to say something, expected some tearful apology, but instead he just stared at her like she’d slapped him. Leif sighed, and shook her head. She walked out of the room, leaving him there with a silent prayer that he would join her.

[deredere-fae]

Basic Information

Name: Daniel Park

Fae Name: Makas (Hebrew for Hope)

Gender: Male

D.O.B: February 18th, 1646

Zodiac Sign: Aquarius

Species: Seelie Fae

Physical Age: 27

Actual Age: 376

Hometown: Faerie

Magical Focus/Specialty: Hydrokinesis / Water Manipulation

Sexuality: Pansexual

Occupation: Dancer, Dancer Instructor and Owner of Hope World Dance Studio

Religion: Irreligious

Relationship Status: Officially Single but Talking to Someone (not officially dating)

Significant Other: None Officially but Talking Alec Lightwood (not officially dating)

Current Location: London, England

Best Friend(s): Eric Kim (Platonic Soulmate), David Lee, Skylar Leif, Joel Lee Moon, Joon Cho and Gryffin Zavevia

Roommate(s): Skylar Leif, Joel Lee Moon, Gryffin Zavevia (newest)

Mentor/Idol: None

Mentee: Joel Lee Moon

Physical Description

Height: 5'10 / 177 cm

Weight: 143 lbs / 65 kg

Build: Athletic/Dancer Body

Skin: Lightly Tanned

Hair: Dark Brown/black with a few purple streaks (natural and unglamoured)

Eyes: Dark Brown (glamoured) Gold (natural Fae Color)

Tattoos | Piercings: Water droplets behind both ears | No piercings

Other Significant Marks/Scars: Various light scars from training and missions as a Seelie Knight

Personality

MBTI: ESFJ

Mental Illness(es): Mild Depression

Positive Traits: Caring, Compassionate, Loyal, Protective, Honest, Trustworthy, Romantic, Loving, Affectionate, Fun Loving, Generally Happy

Negative Traits: Masks his darker emotions with happiness, closes off negative emotions as to not burden others, promiscuous (as a defense mechanism), lonely, remorseful, grief-stricken, worries excessively, feels guilty about things beyond his control, self-conscious, feelings of worthlessness, feelings of unworthiness, feelings of not being good enough

Fears: Losing someone else he loves, being forever alone, never being seen for the real him and not just a sex object.

Hobbies

Dancing (full time), choreography (full time), part time: song writing, singing, rapping. He also likes nature walks, party tricks with water, spending time with those he cares about, spoiling those he cares about.

Abilities

Typical Fae Abilities with a focus on Water Magic

Weaknesses

Typical Fae weaknesses, Inability to Lie, Memories of his sister (also a source of motivation), His closest friends (Eric, David, Joel, Skylar, Gryffin, Joon - Also a source of strength)

Ten Facts

Daniel was given the nickname "Danny" by Skylar when they became friends and it's stuck with everyone in his inner circle.

Daniel has a habit of giving his Maknaes (younger friends) nicknames based on animals that he feels match their personalities. (Skylar- little dove, Gryffin- little deer, Joel- little bear, Joon- little wolf)

He has yet to come up with an animal nickname for Alec and often calls him cheonsa, which means angel, or other Korean pet names. Though he calls him little duckling/ducky in his head but not aloud....yet.

Daniel calls all of his older friends (Eric, David, sometimes Magnus) Hyung which is Korean for older brother.

Daniel has been in love a few times in his life but it was often unrequited due to the object of his love only using him for sex due to his promiscuous wild streak after the death of his family. He built a wall around his heart and began believing he was good for nothing but sex.

Daniel was once in love with Skylar, like David, and like David it evolved into an agape love that transcended both platonic and romantic love. Something unconditional and unbreakable.

Daniel, like Skylar and Joel, found his platonic soulmate but unlike his Maknaes he found his in an older warlock named Eric Kim. No one knows how soulmate bonds work between two fae nor how it works between a Fae and warlock but it is much like the shadowhunters' Parabatai bond with less restrictions and endless possibilities due to their magical nature.

Daniel's father died during a mission as Seelie Knight and his mother committed suicide a few weeks later due to heartbreak. He lost his sister a few years later when her abusive boyfriend killed her and left her on his front steps with a note that read "If I can't have her, nobody can. I saw them. Send my regards to David." Before he was sent on a mission by the Queen that resulted in his death the next day. Daniel never blamed David for his sister's death nor showed him the letter even to this day.

Daniel is very protective of Skylar, almost as much as Eric and Joel are, especially after finding out what happened with his ex. He doesn't want to fail someone again.

Daniel saw potential in Joel, the son of one of the Queen's servants, and petitioned to train him. As he was the Seelie Queen's favorite Knight and Consort (they had a sexual relationship), she allowed it and later covered for Daniel, Skylar and Joel when they left Faerie to keep Skylar safe.

[leifandthorn]

Webcomic Buffers And You, for #WeHeartComics

I keep turning up new webcomic-related Twitter discussions. This one was an (irregular?) offering from WeHeartComics, a product of the SpiderForest collective. (Think “Hiveworks for artists who aren’t into bees.”)

Last Friday was a chat about buffers. Which was a striking thing to jump into, because I’d just been listening to the ComicLab episode where the hosts go “ahh, regular updates are so 10 years ago! Just update whenever you draw something. Readers will be into it.”

And that works great if you’re Kate Beaton (of Hark! A Vagrant) or Sarah Andersen (of Sarah’s Scribbles), where your whole thing is random self-contained standalone bits. (It also helps if they’re Really Good standalones.) But, listen, it’s all wrong for a comic with any kind of continuity. If you slack on the updates there, readers will forget where they are in the story, and end up losing interest.

I don’t know if if strict update times are necessary in the social-media age. Nobody knows when Webcomic Woes is going to update, and it doesn’t matter, because as long as you stay on top of your Patreon/Deviantart/Tumblr feed, it’ll be served up to you.

But for those story-based comics, you’ve got to keep a regular update rate (e.g. “twice a week”). So you may as well keep the posting dates and times consistent too. Keeps your life simple, makes it easier to track your to-do list.

And with that, on to the questions…

Q1. Do you try to keep a buffer of comic pages? Why or why not? #WeHeartComics pic.twitter.com/aYgkNRoD9W

— WeHeartComics (@WeHeartComics) April 6, 2018

For Leif & Thorn, yes. I like titling strips in the format of “This Storyline 1/24” (a tic picked up from Bruno The Bandit)…and that only works if my buffer reaches the end of This Storyline.

The current arc is getting broken up into sub-acts — starting with “The Show Must Grow On: Overture” — mostly because I’m not far enough to have the numbers otherwise. Did the same thing splitting off the 14-strip An Incredibly Platonic Shopping Day, even though it leads straight (hah) into the next storyline, because Summer Sunshine clocked in at a full 84 strips. I could manage to be 84 strips ahead, but not 98.

As of this writing, I’ve drawn 18 strips into The Show Must Grow On: Act I. Which is…not bad, but there’s gonna need to be a crackdown of work this weekend. And the next one. And probably the next.

For But I’m A Cat Person — eheh, it used to have a buffer. Now I’m almost always working one page ahead. Talked a lot about the effects of that in an earlier WebcomicChat about pacing.

And then there’s Webcomic Woes, which is bufferless by nature. It gets made on a “whenever I have an idea” basis, and I don’t have more than one relevant idea per day.

A1 YES!

I'm working on getting a buffer of at least 52 pages because I have a crazy day job and I want enough buffer for a year of weekly updates.#WeHeartComics

— TeJay is Drawing (@TeJay_the_Mad) April 6, 2018

This here is a heroic effort. I’ve never had a full-page buffer that long.

(Technically, I’m 50-ish updates ahead with Leif & Thorn right now — but since it’s a daily strip, that only comes out to a month and a half’s worth of lead time.)

Q1 #WeHeartComics I prefer to always work on solid ground so right now I have a hefty buffer of 800 pages. (even more if I include book 2)

— 🐀Kristen🐉Kiomall-Evans🐒 (@BatichiKristen) April 6, 2018

…and here we have the winner of this thread.

Q2. What drawbacks or advantages does your current buffer (or lack of) give you?#WeHeartComics pic.twitter.com/wmju0giUTm

— WeHeartComics (@WeHeartComics) April 6, 2018

Low buffer gives you a quick turnaround on “whoops, readers didn’t understand that reference, I’ll have a character explain it on the next page.” High buffer gives you security in case you fall out of a tree and have to put your drawing arm in a cast for three months.

A2: The advantage is if something happens, I won't have to miss an update. Since I post on Webtoons, this kicks me down in rankings, which potentially loses me subs/PVs. Drawbacks, are that I can't make any changes to the story arc or I'll have to redo portions #WeHeartComics

— Lisa ⭐️ リサ (@asilris) April 6, 2018

…and then there’s algorithms. Or, on a site like mine, the Webcomic plugin is configured to send cranky emails if the buffer runs low.

Although I find that having a large buffer, so you can redo something while it’s in the buffer, is much easier than redoing it after it’s posted! If you realize on page 10 that you need a Chekhov’s gun that should’ve been on the wall on page 1, you really want page 1 to be unposted. I’ve resorted to post-posting edits, but only in the case of serious continuity errors.

(If you’re really bored some afternoon, go through the BICP archives page-by-page and see how many errors you can spot compared to the originals — which are all preserved on the SmackJeeves mirror.)

Q3. Life sometimes eats away at buffers. What techniques do you use to get around that?#WeHeartComics pic.twitter.com/qKtmCWYUDA

— WeHeartComics (@WeHeartComics) April 6, 2018

With Leif & Thorn: hasn’t been a problem. (Knock wood.)

With BICP: uh, mostly posting stuff late with apologies. The comic was originally 3 pages a week, and I couldn’t keep that up full-time, so I took it down to 2 (it goes back up sometimes for special events, like the second Christmas special), and that helped.

I do a week or two of filler between chapters, and I’ve given myself a couple longer hiatuses…but do not have the discipline to use them for buffering, heh. I just use them to recharge before jumping back into the “whoops, gotta draw tomorrow’s page now” rollercoaster.

Waaaay back in the day (2003!), And Shine Heaven Now had 6-strips-a-week updates. When my Dell died and the buffer ran out, I drew a week of filler at the library in MSPaint rather than go updateless.

In retrospect, under the circumstances, I’m sure readers would’ve forgiven a mini-hiatus! But for some reason it honestly didn’t occur to me as an option.

Q4. Do you have advice to those wanting to create buffers?#WeHeartComics pic.twitter.com/S1v4ndaZVI

— WeHeartComics (@WeHeartComics) April 6, 2018

Work up a big one before your comic actually launches. I had several months of Leif & Thorn drawn before I started posting, and the buffer has been healthy ever since.

After that, just pace yourself. Figure out what your workflow is, and adapt your schedule to work with it! Some authors like writing out a script beforehand, others like working it out as they draw. Some artists need strict and well-planned schedules, others (*cough*) get revved up by looming deadlines. In the immortal words of Jan Valentine: whatever works is cool.

Q5. If a buffer can’t be made, what advice would you give others seeking to reduce the stress of regular updates?#WeHeartComics pic.twitter.com/5ipyS6qiOh

— WeHeartComics (@WeHeartComics) April 6, 2018

…I mean, if your comic is suited to irregular updates, you can always just do that.

If not, you’re allowed to take breaks. Just give your readers accurate information about your plans, and then stick to them. Don’t be the person whose site still says “after this short hiatus, My Awesome Comic will return in May 2017!” when it’s April 2018.

If you can’t do irregular updates, and you can’t make a buffer, and it’s too stressful to keep up regular updates, and you can’t even get back from hiatus…then maybe this isn’t the comic you should be doing, and it’s time to gracefully bow out. (More on that next post.)

(Original post.)

[ladylillianrose]

Extraordinarily Star-Crossed a Max Richman/Zoey Clarke Fanfiction

A/N: OMG you guys there are only 3 chapters left of this whole fic! Thank you to all of you for your comments and appreciation! 

San Francisco, CA 2020 Chapter 3

San Francisco, CA 2020 Chapter 2

San Francisco, CA 2020 Chapter 1

The Atlantic Ocean, April 1912 Chapter 6

The Atlantic Ocean, April 1912 Chapter 5

The Atlantic Ocean, April 1912 Chapter 4

The Atlantic Ocean, April 1912 Chapter 3

The Atlantic Ocean, April 1912 Chapter 2

The Atlantic Ocean, April 1912 Chapter 1

Paris, France 1792 Chapter 6

Paris, France 1792 Chapter 5

Paris, France 1792 Chapter 4

Paris, France 1792 Chapter 3

Paris, France 1792 Chapter 2

Paris, France 1792 Chapter 1

Florence, Italy 1485 Chapter 6

Florence, Italy 1485 Chapter 5

Florence, Italy 1485 Chapter 4

Florence, Italy 1485 Chapter 3

Florence, Italy 1485 Chapter 2

Florence, Italy 1485 Chapter 1

Greece 382 B.C.E. Chapter 6

Greece 382 B.C.E. Chapter 5

Greece 382 B.C.E. Chapter 4

Greece 382 B.C.E. Chapter 3

Greece 382 B.C.E. Chapter 2

Greece 382 B.C.E. Chapter 1

“So, what happened exactly?” Mo asked, following Zoey into The Golden Gate Grind.

"Well, I was trying to tell Max how crazy things had been, with the singing and the dreams…"

"Dreams? What dreams?" Mo frowned. "Zoldilocks, you didn't mention any dreams to me!"

"They only just started recently, and they are unusual," Zoey explained.

Mo raised his eyebrow, "Unusual how?"

"They almost seem familiar somehow, like I know things in them almost by instinct. And then there's you, Max, and weirdly enough Leif and Tobin making appearances in them," Zoey frowned.

"Interesting, so you've been having dreams about Max then?"

She blushed, "Not like that….well, except there was the one where…Hold it we're getting off track here. We can discuss my dreams later. Anyway, I was telling Max about the dreams and was going to tell him about the whole musical powers thing, but then  he started singing to me!"

Mo grinned, "Ooo, what did he sing? Was it something good?"

"He sang, 'I Think I Love You,'" Zoey mumbled.

"Little on the nose there for my taste, but nothing wrong with that. So why all the panic?"

"My best friend is super into me Mo!"*

"Your incredibly attractive best friend is in love with you. So why not go for it?" 

"Because he's my best friend!"

"Pshhh, that's an even better reason to go for him! Who else knows you better than Max?" Mo stated, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Zoey shook her head, "But what if…"

Mo interrupted, "Look, you like Max right? Get along with him, know things about him that no one else does? And you of course find him attractive."

Zoey sputtered, blushing, "Max, attractive? Who said I found Max attractive? I certainly didn't say Max was attractive, nope not me."

"Uh-huh," Mo looked at her skeptically. "You just used the words attractive and Max three times, and I'm supposed to believe you don't find him attractive? That Zoepatra is more than just a river in Egypt."

"Whether I find Max attractive or not," Mo interrupted with a cough that sounded suspiciously like, "Denial!"  Zoey ignored him and continued, "Is beside the point. I don't want to jeopardize our friendship, it's too risky."

Mo rolled his eyes and sighed, "Hera grant me strength. That's part of love, ZoZo, you take risks. Sometimes it doesn't work out, and sometimes two people are so right for one another that even time itself can't keep them apart."

Zoey scoffed, "I think someone's been watching too many Hallmark movies."

"Mock my taste all you like, but there is no denying the power of true love."

Zoey didn't know how to respond, luckily they were next in line to order.

“Hey, Autumn,” Zoey smiled at the familiar barista.

“Hey, Zoey,” Autumn flashed her a smile. “The usual?”

Zoey blinked as things started to become blurry, Autumn's clothing began shifting from her barista apron to some sort of toga. She shook her head, trying to make sense of what she was seeing.

"Zoey?"

________________________________________________________________

Zoie? Zoie?

Zoie glanced at her companion, "I'm sorry, I was miles away thinking."

Kalli nodded in understanding, "A future bride's mind is always a busy place. Good thoughts I hope?"

Zoie smiled, "They were. I was just thinking how pleased Maximos will be once the wedding planning is complete. He'd marry me tomorrow if he could," she giggled.

Kalli chuckled, "Well, we can't have that now can we?"

Zoie looked at her in confusion.

"You couldn't possibly let that lovely fabric we picked for your veil go to waste!" Kalli explained.

Zoie grinned, "Oh no of course not! I wouldn't want to miss out on the wedding festivities anyway. After all, a girl only marries her true love once!"

Kalli's eyes blazed with fury, but she smiled and nodded at Zoie. She fingered the bag of tea leaves in her pocket, Soon she would rid herself of this thorn in her side. Then Maximos would be free, and hers….

________________________________________________________________

Maximos tilted her chin up, looking her in the eyes. “She tried, sweetheart, but I refused. There is only one woman for me.”

________________________________________________________________

Aphrodite chuckled darkly. “Not my fault she can’t handle her Hemlock.”

________________________________________________________________

“Max... I... I lo…”**

Zoey’s eyes narrowed at the creature in front of her, her hands shaking with rage. It was her, the woman who had “helped” in the marketplace that day, and then poisoned her in a fit of jealousy…  APHRODITE!

“YOU BITCH!!!” Zoey attempted to launch herself across the counter but was quickly pulled back by Mo.

“LET ME GO! THIS IS ALL HER FAULT!” Zoey flailed in Mo’s arms as he held her tightly, backing out of the cafe as quickly as possible.

Autumn grinned wickedly, waving her fingers at them. "Have a Golden Day!" she called out, as the door shut behind them.

“PUT ME DOWN!! ” Zoey screeched, once they were outside. “ I’M GOING TO MAKE HER PAY FOR WHAT SHE DID TO US!!!”

“You really want to go up against a full-fledged goddess in a coffee shop of all places?” Mo set her down firmly.

“I DON’T CARE THAT SHE’S A….wait a minute, how do you know who she is?” Zoey stopped mid-rant to look at Mo curiously.

“Your mother came to us after you first died, and asked for our help dealing with Aphrodite’s curse,” Mo explained.

“She put a curse on me?! And just who exactly is us?”

“Aphrodite cursed you and your true love to meet but never be together, one of you will always die while the other looks on helplessly. I’m one of The Fates, my siblings and I have been at your side in some form or another, trying to subtly find ways to break the curse. "

“Well, obviously subtle isn't helping!" Zoey ground out. "So why now? What makes this time so special?"

Mo sighed, “Because the council of goddesses decided that this would be your last chance to break the curse."

"Council of Goddesses? Why should they care about the lives of two cursed mortals? Shouldn’t they be on Aphrodite’s side?" 

"The only person on Aphrodite’s side is Aphrodite herself. We should go talk to the expert, they’re better suited to answer your questions," explained Mo, quickly shooting off a text telling Leif and Tobin where to meet them.

"And just who would this ‘expert’ be?" Zoey asked, impatiently.

"Your mother."

A/N: *Episode 1x02

**Chapter 5

[capell0]

The Reason Why

A Tales of Zestiria fanfiction

Summary: Another day spent on their lively journey with their friends, Mikleo comes to realize that something is off, different. Trying to figure it out would be the next logical step, but are things really that simple? (SoreyMikleo)

Genre: Romance, Humour

Rating: K+

Disclaimer: I do not own Tales of Zestiria or any of its characters. Tales of Zestiria belongs to Bandai Namco. All I own is the story as you see it written below.

A/N: Please shoot me... Regarding spoilers, anyone who´s been to Pendrago once should be safe enough to read this. Really, I don´t think there´s anything in here that could serve as a spoiler. I hope you enjoy reading! 

The Reason Why

They had been travelling across the Pearloats Pasture for the better part of the day and the sun was slowly crawling towards the horizon, but whichever way they turned, the scenery hadn´t changed much. The group had passed countless wheat fields, walked up hills and treaded over fields of green grass, fighting hellions on occasion. But, although the Pasture was vast, it offered little shelter from the night winds or rain, so their quest of finding a place to camp any time soon got more and more difficult the further the day progressed. With no other choice, they would have to continue their marsh until they found somewhere proper to rest for the night.

Wandering for another hour, the blue of the day sky gradually turning deeper shades, Sorey and the others came across a pair of merchants transporting their goods on a wagon. Or at least that was what they tried to accomplish, had they not gotten stuck in a slope on the side of the road. Taking a closer look at it, Sorey and Rose offered to give them a hand and with some added effort, they were able to lift it back onto track. Gratefull for the help, the merchants asked them where they were headed and after Sorey explained their predicament, the merchants told them about a small traveler´s inn that was supposed to be a little ways ahead and offered to take them there on their wagon. At the prospect of getting to rest their weary feet and bones, they happily accepted.

And so it happened that Sorey and Rose found themselves sitting in between cargo bags and crates of boxes, enjoying the slow but restfull ride. “I´m sorry it´s so cramed back there but we received a pretty large order the other day. I hope there´s enough space for you two to sit somewhat comfortable”, Maggy called to them after they had finished introducing themselves. She sat in the front next to her partner, Leif, who was charged with maneuvring the horses.

“Oh please, don´t worry! This is plenty”, Rose chirped, more than satisfied to finally not be walking anymore. “Thank you for letting us hitch a ride in the first place.”

Laughing, Maggy waved a hand at the younger girl. “Don´t mention it. If it weren´t for you two we´d probably still be stuck in that slope!” In a much gruffer voice but playfull all the same, she added: “Thanks to a certain someone here.”

At that Leif turned to her with a grumpy expression. “Hey! Is it my fault the road´s in such bad shape? I´m not in charge of Rolance´s maintenance work I´ll have you know!”

Giggling in return at their antics, Rose leaned back against the bag behind her and stretched her arms leisurly as she let the two fellow merchants alone with their bickering. She yawned heartedly. “Guess Rolance´s lack of street work was right in our favour this time.”

“And just at the right time, too!”, Sorey nodded backing into the box behind him. “...Though I feel kinda bad for admitting that”, he added in a smaller voice.

“Ever the gentle Shepherd”, Rose sighed flatly.

“That´s the naive Shepherd for you, alright”, Edna stated inside Sorey´s head, which earned her a high pitched shriek and an angry retard from the red haired Squire.

“Uuuh, I told you not to do that anymore!”

“I think it would spare you a lot of trouble if you just got used to it”, Mikleo offered, appearing next to Sorey while he said so as to not scare her even more. Following his example, Lailah´s form materialized beside her a moment later.

“That would certainly be most opportune”, she agreed, but the small, forced looking grin on her face said it was something far easier said than done. Mikleo didn´t doubt that for a second.

“Can it!”, Rose yelled angrily. “What´s wrong with being scared of bodyless voices in your head?! Also it´s getting way too crowded in here”, she said and crouched back to make some space for the two seraphim to sit, anyways.

For someone who´s always so straight forward she sure is contradicting her words a lot, Mikleo thought with a smile, thinking it wiser not to mention that.

“You sure are contradicting sometimes”, Sorey commented a heartbeat later. Well, there went that theory.

Just as expected, it didn´t make Rose happy. “Like you´re one to talk”, she fumed. Continuing their arguement for a while longer, it soon died down as the conversation started being filled with more yawning than actual words. “I think this whole voices-in-my-head business got me more worn out than walking and fighting hellions all day...”

“For that you were arguing pretty energetically”, Sorey teased, before a yawn escaped him as well.

Rose crossed her arms in front of her chest and flopped back. “I was making a point, there´s nothing to argue about!”

Lailah laughed. “And quiiiite a point”, she said, imitating the red head´s manner of yawning half-way through.

Rose couldn´t help but break into a grin. “Whatever, this is it for me. I´m taking a nap until we get to that inn.” And with that, she closed her eyes and dozed off.

Sorey laughed warily at that. “That sure was fast...”

“Well, it does remind me of someone”, Mikleo commented not bothering to hide his grin.

“Looked in a mirror recently?”, Sorey countered, rasining an eyebrow.

“Checked that logic of yours recently?”

“Like–“

But before either of them could continue, Edna´s voice echoed in Sorey´s head, sounding profoundly annoyed. “If you two are the next to start an argument I will send the ground beneath us rumbling and trembling until it´s cured you both of your stupidity. Rest. Sleep. NOW.”

And without further ado, both of them were quiet.

“Edna-san...” Grinning sympathatically at the two boys, Lailah couldn´t help but laugh weakly. She cleared her throat. “I don´t quite agree with the wording”, she said, “but it is a good idea. Why don´t we all rest up while we have the chance?”

“...Guess sleep does sound like a good plan.” Obviously deciding not to argue and risk being at the mercy of Edna´s wrath, the brown haired youth sat back silently, resting his back against one of the larger wooden boxes. Either that, or he was just genuinly tired from the way he less leaned but slumped against the crate. Mikleo almost laughed at that.

“What about you, Mikleo-san?”, Lailah asked as she noticed he was still outside. It wasn´t necesarrily that he had to return into Sorey´s body to rest but he and the other seraphim had made a habit of it since it was the way that put the least burden on him. At night they´d all stay outside to sleep, anyways, although seeing as space was something of an issue at the moment, the latter was probably not very ideal.

“I think I´ll stay outside just a little bit longer”, he aswered regardless. A little longer wouldn´t make the difference. When he saw the critique in her eyes, very possibly fearing the two boys would start another argument after all, he motioned for her to look to his side. Following his gaze, Lailah looked relieved as she found Sorey with his eyes closed and fast asleep.

When her mind was put at ease at last, she gave a long yawn herself. Not having to worry about being toppled out of the wagon during one´s sleep took the edge off, after all. “Alright. If something comes up, do not hesitate to wake us”, she said, lowering the sleeve she used to cover her yawn with. Lailah´s form desintegrated into a small ball of light, floating back into Sorey´s body.

And with that, he was left alone.

Relaxing against the boxes behind them, he looked outside the wagon and watched the scenery go by. It had been some time since they´d passed through anywhere this peacfully, not to mention that since they usually had to walk everywhere, merely sitting here and getting to observe the shining green grass sway in the winds and still progress onwards, Mikleo thought it was a moment he should enjoy while he could. The water seraph grinned when he thought of how Sorey would agrue that he and Rose were actually the only ones who had no other choice but to walk since everyone else could simply seek refuge in him if they got tired of it. Well, that is true, Mikleo mused, grin broadening. Though Mikleo didn´t think Sorey even really minded that. Long as they didn´t rub it in his face every opportuninty they got.

After some time his gaze drifted upward to watch the blue sky above, nostalgia washing over him for a moment. Its blue was radiant with barely a cloud to be seen. Much like in Elysia. It was in moments like this in which Mikleo realized just how much it reminded him of home. Often a time, when they took a break on the road or stopped somewhere for the night, Mikleo would sit there and look up into it, becoming lost to his thoughts and the world around him. It was strange, but even so far away from the village they grew up in, so far that it almost seemed like another world completely, the sky was still shining in the same bright blue on a sunny day, the same bright stars glowed down on them at night and became covered by the same cold grey when it rained. Looking up into it, even if only for a moment, it felt to Mikleo like he and Sorey were still home and never left, exploring ruins and managing their daily lives together with their family. As if nothing at all had changed.

And yet, so much had changed.

There was no denying that ever since he and Sorey embarked on their journey, things had gotten... a little out of hand. They had set foot into the world outside Gramps´ domain and with that into a world where most people couldn´t see or hear seraphim, something they were so used to being a given, despite being the told the opposite numerous times. But after travelling for this long, they had come to know it as a world filled with people as colourfull in character, personallity and desires as the seasons, mysteries that had yet to be unravelled and with a lot of its history yet unknown, even to the two of them. Mikleo didn´t think it was too much to call it a world of tales both tragic and wonderous. And somehow they had ended up in the fight deciding its very future. He sighed at that, shooting a glance at the certain someone responsible– alright, mostly responsible to be fair. So looking up into a sky that looked the same no matter where their travels turned them, was somehow reassuring. To him it was like a reminder that, however dark and uncertain the way before them, somewhere it was still light. And that there were some things that never changed, no matter the circumstances.

Like this guy always mumbling in his sleep, Mikleo thought with a sigh when he heard Sorey´s voice sound next to him. More than the sky or the ever reoccuring seasons, Mikleo thought it was Sorey who changed even less. Be it his love for ruins or his inability to tell a lie even if it were to save his life, his childhood friend had kept to all those quirks and notions he–

Mikleo frowned. Well, the way he tended to mumble stuff in his sleep that not even he could tell what it was supposed to mean, how he got lost in his thoughts whenever he came up against a wall, the ferventy with which he believed in their dream of finding a way together for humans and seraphim to live alongside each other, all that hadn´t changed one bit. And his thickheadedness still stood unrivaled. A light laugh escaped Mikleo. Well, maybe not so unrivaled anymore. He was pretty sure Rose came in at least close second to his childhood friend.

“Like you´re any better!” ...and he was pretty sure that would be Sorey´s answer if he ever were to tell him how he thought about it. The seraph couldn´t help but laugh again. No matter how chaotic and weird things had gotten, he could at least say it was never dull. Even if he had to admit their lives had changed a lot in this short amount of time, Mikleo was glad he was able to say that despite the many trials they faced on their travels, they were never alone; and he and Sorey remained the same people in their hearts. Be it exploring ruins or what was weighning down on his mind, thanks to growing up together, Mikleo was usually able to tell what was going on in Sorey´s head as if reading a well studied history tome. But, if truth be told, the knowledge that it worked the other way around, too, did annoy him to a certain extend. Though he´d bite his tounge before admitting that in front of Sorey. The other had enough ammunition to tease him with already and he was not about to help him gain more on him, thank you very much. Especially when–

He was startled out of his musing when the wagon was lifted a good distance into the air with a sudden surge. It came crashing back down onto the ground a moment later with a loud rattle. Mikleo jumped in his place, alarmed, his eyes darting around as he tried to spot the source of what just happened. He couldn´t find anything that would have served as an explanation at first, but when the wagon moved along a couple of meters, Mikleo´s sight caught on an unusually large rock just by the side of the road. For a moment he thought it might have been Edna´s doing but had to withdraw his accusation as he noticed it had not been created by a seraphic arte. It seemed Leif had thought the rock safe enough to drive over and not anticipated to be rattled through by the shock.

Man, no wonder they got stuck in that slope before, Mikleo thought grumpily.

He heared a soft murmur. Turning his attention to the girl in front of him, Mikleo had actually expected Rose to be awake, her daggers drawn in an instant at the sudden ruckus, but the usually so stealthy and ready to act assassin was still cold out, a goofy and content smile on her lips. The young water seraph had the urge to face palm but his feelings on this were just too mixed to make up his mind. Was she just so out of it that she didn´t notice or could it be that–

Before he got around to finishing his thought, he was interrupted as his ears picked up on a small, almost inaudible thud next to him, followed by the feeling of a heavy weight pressing into his side. Mikleo turned his head to look down his right shoulder, already fairly certain what awaited him.

And sure enough. Although he hadn´t woken up from the commotion either, Sorey´s body had tilted to the side and, balance lost, dropped onto him, his head bumping against the seraph´s shoulder. Since they were little they stayed up late reading book after book until they literarily dropped asleep, be it at home or in the ruins they wandered around in. Even now, it wasn´t like they were walking around carrying blankets and pillows, so they made due with what they had. So it wasn´t like this was the first time he had fallen asleep leaning on him like that. His childhood friend simply happened to be a klutz like that. And just like all those times  before, all he had to do to fix it was reach over and put his friend into a proper sitting position. If Maggy or Leif were to turn around now, they´d see Sorey sleep in a pretty... odd position, after all. And at first, it had been Mikleo´s intention to do just that.

At first. Yet, here he was merely sitting there, frozen in place. It was like all noise around him had suddenly ceased existens as he watched his friend´s shoulders rise and fall with even breaths.

It wasn´t like he minded, really. Just, lately, things that used to be so natural to him until now, seemed... different somehow, outlandish even, and he couldn´t even tell why. He didn´t remember when he first noticed, but Mikleo was aware of something being off for quite some time now. Even though they were the same age, Mikleo had grown up to be the more composed and rational of the pair, so it frustrated him all the more when he couldn´t figure out how it had come to this. In the past, if there was a riddle that needed solving, he could think it through, no matter how long it took. He could search for the answers in books and scrolls who were always ready to help with their insights. But usually, two heads were better than one, so unless they had a competition going, he had Sorey to talk to about a solution. This time, though, he was utterly on his own with a problem he had no clue how to go about.

Mikleo was no fool. He knew full well that life meant change, and change was mostly inevitable. But, somehow, Mikleo had believed that the friendship between him and Sorey was one of those few, rare exceptions. Had he been in a different state of mind, he might´ve had the spare thought to feel embarrased at his naivity. Mikleo was a very observant person, so knowing Sorey like the back of his hand the water seraph found himself puzzled at all the small, really trivial things he came to realize, as if they´d shown themselves but a little while ago. For instance, how many of Sorey´s habits Mikleo was so used to suddenly seemed so familiar yet managed to catch him off guard even though he´d anticipated them all along. Be it when they were walking through ruins theorizing, a town to gather information or just sit somewhere reading a book, they were all situations that had occurred time and again on their travels together but for some reason, Mikleo couldn´t help but feel like there was something different about it, about them, although things should mostly have stayed the same. It was the small things that happened along the way that had him wondering. Take for instance his predicament at hand. He had no way of telling how many times he´d merely reached over in the past when Sorey´d slumped onto him and just pushed him to the other side, there was nothing much to think about. But now, he´d come to find himself hesitating to even reach out his hand and pat the other on the back at times.

In the beginning Mikleo thought it was simply his mind playing tricks on him and tried to shake it off. Sorey hadn´t shown any sign of noticing anything being different between them either, so he hadn´t paid much heed to those little discoveries and left them as they were. However, among all those trivialities, there was the one change Mikleo had not been able to deal with quite as efficiently.

He closed his eyes for a second, letting out a deep sigh, breath rustling trough Sorey´s hair as he tried to will all those unwanted thoughts and emotions that swarmed his mind back into submission. The pounding of his racing heart was more than enough to deal with.

His face heated up as if he had gotten too close to one of Lailah´s fire artes when he noticed how he´d been staring down at Sorey without intending to. But he didn´t turn away. Contrary to Sorey, he was easier to pick up on such things but never in his wildest dreams would he have thought that of all things he would fall in love with Sorey. No matter how many times he mulled over it or tried to find a different explanation, it was always the same conclussion Mikleo came to in the end.

He crossed his arms with a heavy sigh. He made sure he didn´t move too much so he wouldn´t accidentally wake the other now. Sometimes Mikleo was gratefull of how oblivious Sorey could be. Because, although Mikleo– dispite his efforts– had had a hunch about what it was that changed for far longer than he ever cared to admit, the young seraph didn´t have any intention to share it with the other. Mikleo had long since decided to stay ignorant to his own feelings and was of no mind to reconsider now.

Say if he told Sorey how he felt – given he´d be lucky enough to manage up the courage and find a good moment to do so – what would happen to them? All their lives, he and Sorey had been best friends and rival scholars. They were always together since they were little kids; it didn´t matter if it was going out to hunt with the others in the boars woods, exploring the Mt. Mabinogio ruins or reading books in gramps´ library; they were inseperable.

But if Sorey knew he thought of him as more than a friend and family, would Sorey accept it? Could he? Would he be angry at him for suddenly feeling this way? Would he be too shocked to give him a proper answer? He knew Sorey was too kind hearted to ever hold something like this against him but he also knew Sorey would beat himself up if Mikleo should end up hurt over it. To Mikleo, his friendship with Sorey was too important to risk because he didn´t give things enough thought. But most of all, he didn´t want to hurt Sorey.

Another possibility kept bugging Mikleo. If he only thought Sorey was oblivious and yet, the other knew how he felt all along and simply decided not to say anything for the same reasons? They could usually tell when something was bugging the other, so the idea wasn´t far fetched... And yet so unlikely. Mikleo almost snorted at the idea. Now that was his brain grasping for straws to reason with itself. If the other knew about it Mikleo would have noticed long ago. Compared to him, Sorey had a hard time keeping things a secret.

But that didn´t change the situation. Although Mikleo had tried his best, he was barely able to stay unconcious to this feeling much longer.

His mind was finally eased a little after thinking more and more about the same things he´d been worrying over for weeks now. He noticed how his fingertips had started digging into his arms. Looking down at them, he released them from his iron grip and rested them lightly atop each other now. He´d thought about this so many times now that he had no idea what to think anymore. But continuously listing all his worries had so far been the only way to keep him from talking to Sorey. He knew no amount of pondering the same things would change that he was still hung up on them. It would only draw out the inevitable that much longer. Now they fought and travelled alongside their friends day after day, trying to struggle against odds they couldn´t have imagined before in their wildest dreams, but here they were.

“But here we are...”, he mumbled to himself. Not entirely sure if he should, he looked back down at Sorey anyways. Eyes firmly shut, he still showed no intention of waking up. Though, he didn´t mind. A break was rare enough to come by and like this, he could at least avoid Sorey seeing him red faced like that. Like this, he could look at him sleep and did not need to be cautious to make sure his true feelings wouldn´t show. There was no need to fight his blush or the small smile tugging at his lips. Now, there was something he´d really rather avoid having to explain. Relaxing against the weight against his, Mikleo closed his eyes, feeling at ease at last. So what if the two merchants turned around and found Sorey sleeping in an odd position? Seraphim existed. He was living proof of that and they might as well start acknowledging it.

A yawn finally escaped him and suddenly there was a new thought that started to form in his mind. For now they were fighting and struggling alongside their friends and each other. But maybe one day, when they found their answer and the battles ahead were fought, Mikleo might reconsider. Perhaps when all this was over, he could see past the worries and fears and be honest with Sorey and tell him how he felt. But that was for him to think of another day. For the time being, he´d listen to the soft rattling of the carriage, the whispers of a warm breeze, the even breaths next to him and the pounding of his heart lulling him to sleep.

A/N: First off, thank you to everyone who has read this story to its end! It means a lot to me. And I so hope I was in character enough. Then some, I guess, editorial (?) notes. I know, some might have been confused why I had Lailah add -san to everyone´s name. I played the game in Japanese and hence I´m just used to it; also, seeing as she´s always so formal it felt right and translating it into the equivalent of “Mister”, “Misses” felt odd as well not adding it alltogether. As too why I worte in the beginning “Please shoot me...”. Well, first off all, I actually try not to ship Sorey and Mikleo. So this is actually one out of the only two stories I ever plan on writing about them in a romantic setting. Call me a hypocrite if you want but I actually like their dynamic as is. Last but not least, I think I owe a massive apology to everyone who´s played through the game. (Or maybe I´m overthinking?) I´m so sorry! Again, that´s why “Please shoot me...”, too.  Alright, that was enough babbling from me! I hope you guys enjoyed reading and if you have any critique or thoughts on this or my writing in general, point out mistakes, feel free to tell me. Much appreciated! Capell0