#these dummies need the court papers

[lobotomize-d]

Spamton knocked the piece the fuck off the cheesboard and insisted that he won the game and then tried gaslighting Jevil into thinking it was them and this is how they got divorced

[musketeers-brothersinarms]

Chapter Three: Window Washing and Wishing

Julius had always been deathly afraid of heights. When he was little, he never joined his brothers in climbing trees or leaning over bridges to watch the Seine slip by below. Even glancing up at the towering spires of the cathedrals they walked past was enough to turn his stomach.

So it was with horror that day that he read the first entry on the daily list of janitorial tasks Pete had tacked to the door of their quarters: Clean Hall windows inside and out.

No, please, no, he thought helplessly, sitting down heavily on the bed and putting his face in his hands.

“What’s wrong, Jules?” Oswald asked from the table in the corner. He and Mickey sat with two cups of coffee and a stack of crepes that they were busy tucking away. “Did Pete give us stable cleaning again?”

“Worse,” Julius groaned, the list crumpled up in his fist. “We have to clean the windows today. Inside and out.”

“Ah,” Oswald said, furrowing his eyebrows. “Well, that’s unfortunate.”

“He KNOWS I hate heights!” Julius cried in despair. “He’s doing this on purpose!”

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Mickey said thoughtfully, cupping his coffee mug in two hands.

Julius felt dread pulsing in his stomach, threatening to upend the crepes he had eaten. Meanwhile Oswald tapped the side of his mug, thinking. “Maybe you can work on the ground windows by yourself?” he offered. “Then me and Mickey can do the higher floors.”

“He’d think I was trying to slack off,” Julius muttered, then clutched his upset stomach. “I’m gonna be sick.”

“Oh!” Mickey said brightly. “If you do get sick, hen he’ll think you're ill and you can lie in bed while we clean.”

“That’s a non-factor in Pete’s mind,” Oswald countered. “Remember last winter when we all had the flu? We still had to scrub floors for three hours.”

“Oh yeah…” Mickey paused. “Shoot. Well, maybe we can blindfold Julius, so he doesn’t see the ground from up high?”

“Then he can’t see what he’s cleaning, doofus. Maybe we could get a dummy of Julius and make Pete think he’s cleaning with us, and he can sneak off and work on something else.”

As they started shooting more hare-brained ideas back and forth, Julius smiled slightly in spite of himself and set the list down on his bed. “No, I can do this, guys. I’ll be fine. We’ll need all three of us to get everything done on time, anyways. If Pete wants to give me chores I hate, fine. I’ll just… stomach my way through it.”

He stood up, handed them the list, and started gathering tools from the corner cupboard to keep his hands busy. Mickey stuffed another crepe in his mouth while he read it through. His ears drooped at the massive list:

-polish furniture in the ballroom

-clean and polish the floors of the throne room

-shovel gravel on the garden paths

-set up rat traps in the cellars

-scrub ballroom stairs

-clean all the fireplace grates and chimney

-replace leaking water pipes in the basement

And that was just the first side of the paper, he realized, flipping it around and seeing another long list on the back.

“Does he think we can freeze time?” Oswald exclaimed in shock, reading the list over Mickey’s shoulder. “We can’t do all this in a day! And some of these aren’t even our duty,” he noticed indignantly, pointing to a task that read -clean musketeer capes in storage. “We’re not maids!”

“I suppose all the maids and court servants must be busy with the coronation preparations,” Mickey reasoned, although he too was frowning at the list. “We’re going to have to skip dinner and maybe supper to get this done… We should probably grab some food to bring with us.” He stood and stretched, then grabbed his musketeer hat and put it on.

Julius held out a bucket and rag to each of them. “Guess we’d better get started, then? If we hurry, we can fix those pipes before we start on the windows.” He was mostly successful at keeping the shakiness out of his legs. Mickey nodded in agreement.

Oswald sighed and gulped down the last of his coffee, then picked up his bucket and rag and followed his brothers out the door. It’s going to be a long one, he thought.

~~~~~~

The morning went by much too quickly for Julius’s liking, and as much as he tried to cherish the moments spent soaking wet and wrestling with pipes in the basement, before he knew it they were headed outside to begin the window cleaning. Mickey and Oswald chatted aimlessly as they walked ahead, letting Julius lag behind them. 

It frustrated the cat how easily heights filled him with terror. He wasn’t entirely sure what had borne the fear inside him- It was just the thought of being so high up in the air with nothing underneath him, falling and plummeting forever, dropping like a rock through the sky to the ground with the wind rushing by and everything so far below and nothing to catch him or save him— He shook his head furiously, heart thumping wildly in his throat. Thinking like that isn’t going to help you, Julius! Just bite the bullet and get through it. You’re just going to wash some windows 50 feet in the air. It’s not that bad. Steeling his nerves, he jogged ahead to catch up with Mickey and Oswald as they reached the shed.

The suspended scaffolding system used to maintain the higher floors of the palace was nothing more than a few rickety wooden boards lashed together with twine, two pulleys strung with frayed rope on either side, and a couple of loosely nailed-in iron railings, all of which lay cobbled together and largely unused in a shed outside the Great Hall. It was, in Oswald’s humble opinion, the worst feat of engineering in the entire world. I wonder what it would take to convince Pete to let me fix it, he thought offhandedly as they carried it around to the front and began attaching the ropes to the pulleys. 

Julius took a minute to pull himself together as he gathered the supplies and lifted them onto the platform next to a couple of dusty empty crates. You’ll be fine, it’s going to be fine, he chanted desperately in his head as Mickey and Oswald started tugging at the ropes to lift the scaffolding into the air. The courtyard fell slowly but surely away from under him, and he felt his insides once again lurching as if trying to escape his abdomen. He clutched the bag of food they had brought along with trembling hands.

“Alright, first window,” Oswald announced as he and Mickey stopped tugging and tied the ropes into place. Julius swallowed hard and tore his gaze away from the ground twenty feet below to start work on scrubbing the windows. It was slow work, but gradually the grime and muck disappeared under the determined scrubbing of the three brothers. For a while they worked in silence, save for the squeak of wet cloth on glass and the occasional splash from the water bucket; after a while, Mickey broke stillness with a small sigh. 

“This is going to take all day,” he said despairingly. 

Oswald rubbed at a spot on the window and shrugged. “Maybe, but all we can do is just keep working at it. We’re almost done with this floor, at least.”

“But we have the whole rest of the list to finish on top of this,” Mickey replied, wringing out his rag anxiously. “And Captain Pete wanted all of it finished today!”

“Honestly, Mick, Pete has to know we can’t do all that in one day. If we have to push some of those tasks into tomorrow, then we’ll do that,” said Julius resignedly. “And he’ll just have to deal with it.”

“But he’d think we weren’t trying hard enough. He’d think we’re incompetent, or… or lazy.” The small mouse dipped his rag back in the bucket with a quiet sploosh. “It’s just… I guess I want Cap’n Pete to see me as a hard worker. I want him to think I’m trying my best.”

Julius frowned. “You are a hard worker, Mick. I’ve told you that.”

“But… he doesn’t think I am,” Mickey sighed. “We try so hard every day and he still doesn’t take us seriously. And if he doesn’t think we’re hard workers, if he doesn’t think we can work together, then he won’t... I mean, we have a bad track record, but couldn’t he change his mind? Couldn’t he just see we really want to be musketeers?”

So that’s what this is all about, Julius realized. That’s what was bothering him this morning too, I bet. He shifted from one foot to the other uncomfortably; what could he say? He wanted nothing more than to reassure him and Oswald that of course Pete would make them musketeers, but that would just be lying. The last thing he planned on doing was sugarcoating anything for his brothers; at the same time, he didn’t want to voice his real doubts. His doubts about whether they should be musketeers at all, whether it would really ever work out for them. No, that would just discourage Mickey further. The best option, then, was uneasy silence. 

“Well… I think there’s a chance,” Oswald pitched in, hands on his hips. “I mean– Pete’s not an easy one to persuade, and it’s not like he’s ever presented the opportunity to us in the past five years, and he likes reminding us about how much he loathes us every chance he gets,  but…” he shrugged. “Rome wasn’t built in a day, so we might as well keep trying and keep hoping, right?” 

He grinned and twirled his rag jauntily, and Mickey smiled back gratefully. “Anyways, whether we’re musketeers or janitors, I don’t see the hurt in working hard. That doesn’t mean we need to bust a gut doing an impossible amount of jobs in one day, though. Let’s just take it slow.” Mickey nodded, looking relieved.

Julius sighed quietly. “Well,” he said, examining the windows one more time. “If we’re done on this level, then we’d better get to the next floor.” Mickey jumped up quickly and ran to the first pulley, Oswald heading to the other. Julius, suddenly remembering they were suspended in midair, swallowed hard and busied himself with the buckets. 

The platform had started to rise shakily, when suddenly there was a creak of doors opening below and the sound of crunching boots and chatting filled the air. Mickey gasped in excitement, straining to see down to the ground while pulling on the rope. “The musketeers are coming out to drill!” Oswald leaned over the rail to watch, his eyes glowing.

“Keep going up,” Julius reminded them, staring at the sky now, and Mickey gave an absent tug on the rope in reply. The musketeers had formed into rows and were listening to orders commanded by the hulking figure of Captain Pete. Soon the chinking of steel on steel filled the air as the musketeers sparred together. Mickey and Oswald were entranced, following every move, window cleaning forgotten. Sensing no movement, Julius tore his gaze away from the clouds to see his brothers leaning over as far as they could to watch. “Can we go UP?” he demanded impatiently. Startled, Mickey gave the rope a hard tug- too hard, it turned out.

The mossy old ropes in Mickey’s hands, unused to the sudden stress, groaned their last and snapped. Julius barely had time to yell in fright before the entire end of the platform swung downward, throwing him over the side. Oswald was the luckiest- his grip on the ropes gave him enough support to stay in place. Mickey, however, was thrown stomach-first against the railing, punching all the air out of his lungs.

In a moment of panic he gasped painfully, blinking stars out of his eyes as his feet found traction on the wood. The ground swung back and forth below, a blur of stone and gravel. A frayed rope swung through the air, snapped in half. The sounds of training below had been replaced with shouts as the musketeers stopped drilling, although their attention barely registered in Mickey’s mind.

“Are you okay?” Oswald asked, his voice panicked. “Where’s Julius-?”

A puffed up white tail appeared over the edge, followed by the terrified face of Julius as he scrabbled at the railing. “HELP-!” he yowled, terrified. Mickey jumped out to grab his hand, attempting to haul his brother back up onto the platform with much yelling and clawing and wild thrashing (mostly from Julius). Oswald, clinging to the other rope at the top, started to feel it straining and snapping under his fingers. He barely had time to close his eyes with a heavy sigh before another loud SNAP pierced the air, completely severing the ropes holding up the lift.

For a few comical seconds, they hung in the air- three brothers, a rickety platform, and a sudsy soap bucket. Then those seconds ended, and the only thing Mickey and Oswald could hear was jumbled yelling and wind whistling by as the earth rushed up towards them like a giant stone fist ready to punch their brains out.

~~~~~~

“Are they dead?” “Sacre bleu… “It was those janitor boys again, of course." "Really? I thought the Captain already fired them." “How on earth did they do this…?” “I don’t see any movement.”

A crowd of musketeers surrounded the pile of wood and rope that lay in the courtyard, muttering and staring in shock. Dust swirled about underneath polished brown boots and swishing blue capes, and a few musketeers shook their heads, used to the shenanigans of those janitor brothers.

A small mouse, his head and shoulders poking out underneath a rotted board, blinked his eyes open blearily and looked around, dazed and disoriented. Through a raging headache he vaguely heard a booming voice commanding musketeers out of the way, not quite registering as a hulking figure made his way forward to stand, seething, over the wreckage. It wasn’t until a large, meaty hand shot out and grabbed him by the arm, yanking him free from the rubble with a swift tug that he came to and realized the dire situation they were in.

Dangling in the air by his arm, staring into the cold glaring eyes of Captain Pete, Mickey swallowed hard and smiled nervously. “Morning, Captain. I, uh, guess you might be a little upset…?” Upset wasn’t quite the word for what the snarling captain was. More like collasally, tremendously, completely pissed off. Mickey barely had time to mutter a prayer to Mère Marie before he was being dragged off across the courtyard under the glaring sun to an unknown, but almost certainly painful, fate.

____

A/N: GOD, FINALLY I'M DONE WITH CH 3!! I'm literally so sorry it took so long to post, I've had so much happening in my life and then of course writer's block hit... anyways, I plan on releasing chapters WAY more frequently now! Also sorry there was no illustration this time- more technical difficulties :( Anyways thanks for reading!!

[japhgura]

Gotta love the 9th division, especially AEIWAM edition

I wanted to write a little tid bit about Maegawa and it got out of hand

Surviving the Gōtei 13 for Dummies

 

Chapter 12: The 9th Division

Sleeping bags in offices and early shifts to babysit the printing press are just some of the quirks of the 9th Division. Less temperamental than the 11th and about as stressed as the 4th, the 9th division sports quite the characters.

Chance of Survival in this division is rather high compared to others. Chance of Screwed-Up Sleep Schedules and close relationships to Coffee Kami is even higher.

 

1. Captain Tōsen Kaname

Current Captain of the 9th Division. Hardworking, serious and a master of paperwork management. Captain Tōsen shines with a strong sense of morality, dedication and kindness. The blind Captain of the 9th sees a lot more than most realize. Overall witty, caring and determined.

 3 Helpful Tips for Dealing with Captain Tōsen

Do not speak about archiving unless you're ready to sit through a three hour presentation with slideshow

No horoscopes. Just don’t.

Misdemeanour may lead to getting your own article in the papers (this is not a good thing)

 

Topics Captain Tōsen is a great help with:

Surprisingly, Archiving. If you’re in need of organization regarding paperwork, books, research articles, etc., Captain Tōsen is very apt in the development and usage of organizational systems for exactly those kinds of things.

Advice. Though usually very busy, Captain Tōsen is caring and level-headed, a good listener who knows when to provide comfort and when to offer a possible solution. When in a bind, the 9th Division Captain is known for supporting his subordinates with a unique perspective and helpful, if sometimes stern advice.

 

2. Vice-Captain Hisagi Shūhei

Captain Tōsen’s loyal and hardworking Vice-Captain. May seem very serious and stoic but is easily flustered (f.E. by: 3rd Seat Maegawa, as seen below; Captain Matsumoto Rangiku as seen in Ch.13). Overall mature, loyal and very proper, despite his rather delinquent-like appearance.

3 Helpful Tips to Dealing with Vice-Captain Hisagi

 Don't be intimidated by his appearance. Vice-Captain Hisagi is a very kind and well meaning Shinigami.

Easily put out of commission when in combination with Squad 9's 3rd Seat. If you need him distracted try to get him to 3rd Seat Maegawa. If the situation allows, Squad 10s Vice Captain Matsumoto has the same effect.

Under no circumstance bad mouth former 9th Division Captain Muguruma Kensei. Don't.

Topics Vice-Captain Hisagi is a great help with:

Guitar! Picked up one of those in the living world and his squad stopped complaining about the noise after the Ryoka Sado taught him. Now he’s good enough to teach others himself, not that he found anyone yet

Again, despite appearances, Vice-Captain Hisagi is a surprisingly good cook. Excels at making good food out of cheap ingredients, due to money being tight. 3rd Seat Maegawa swears by his food. Decent at couponing.

3. Third Seated Officer Maegawa Asahi

One of the 7 Wonders of the Thirteen Court Guard Squads. Even in the 9th Division no one is sure when exactly Maegawa joined, but recalls her already being there when they themselves joined. When enquired upon this, she is quick to deflect the question and change topic. Whether this is because she’s trying to keep up the rumour herself or if there’s actually something going on is so far unconfirmed. Overall gentle and caring but surprisingly temperamental at times.

 

3 Helpful Tips to Dealing with 3rd Seat Maegawa:

Do not enquire about her age. If she deflects DO NOT press further - this WILL lead to injuries!

Do not intrude on her frequent sword meditations or speak ill of Zanpakutō in front of her (whyever you would do that is beyond me anyway)

Try not to breach the topic of 9th division captains. Maegawa _can_ and _will_ silence you one way or another

Topics 3rd Seat Maegawa is a great help with:

Swordsmanship - Maegawa is a surprisingly skilled swordswoman, able to take on multiple Squad 11 members at once. Her keen observation and surprising willingness to help out make her a great teacher when faced with difficulties in the way of the sword.

Sword Spirit Reconciliation and Mediation – Enamoured with Zanpakutō and their quirks, paired with an excellent ability to see things from different perspectives, Maegawa has sorted out many a twixt between Shinigami and Zanpakutō. If there’s a disagreement or problem with your sword spirit, consulting 3rd Seat Maegawa is a very good bet. She does not tolerate negligence and mistreatment of sword spirits, so don’t expect her to side with you no matter the case and don’t bother even going if you’re not ready to put some work into mending that relationship

[upsidedior]

Reunion

Paper. Paperwork EVERYWHERE.

He hadn't been back in his office for more than a day for a break when he got the call he was needed to come back urgently to sign off on new recruits. The tall male Shaelek sat in the office chair staring at the names on the list of newest cadets most foreign to him but a few sounded familiar. There were old names of families who answered the call to serve and some new, new species and yet for a moment the older Shaelek had to pause... Never in his life would he think he'd be back working in the Federation military authorizing the recruits sign ons. Things were different now; he was older had a more established career, gave lectures about Earth studies and his time on the planet, even got to personally toss Hamsterviel into a high security prison! The most satisfying day of his life... It had been a few years since his time on earth. Actually it had been over a decade if he calculated right.

Gantu, now Admiral of the Galactic Federation Armada, sat behind the floating desk with a heavy sigh, signing away each and every cadets' life to be brought aboard and serve within the military. Funny, he never imagined he'd survive this long in his military career to be the one signing paperwork. He always thought he was too reckless and would probably go out in a dogfight. Go out with a big bang, not become his old commander refered to as "ye ol war vet." Name after name, he assigned each and every one to various positions and stations, and as he went down the list, Gantu caught a name which was different than the others....

".....Cadet #626.... Lilo Pelekani...."

It took him a few minutes to make any connection. Li...lo... Lilo.... Lilo.... Why did that name ring a bell? Gantu paused saying the name out loud, "Lilo..." His blue eyes searching for the holoscreen button to activate. Blitznak it, he'd activate it the other way. "Computer, activate holoscreen. Search database of a ...Lilo Pelekani..." In a whirl of noises the information downloaded and the projection appeared in front of him. The screen appeared on top of the floating desk, levitating before him and the image of an earth female made him do a double take.

She was older. Her feminine features soft as her body had grown filling out her curves custom to earth females. Her picture shown a bright dazzling smile; The same big brown eyes, her black hair was longer same dark skin he remembered from her youth as the image of the little earth child who used to call him a "big dummy" stares back at him. SHE WAS OLDER?!?! BLITZNAK HOW OLD DID HE BECOME!?!? Gantu dropped the pen as the synapses made the connection.

COSMIC BLITZNAKING DAMNIT!!! IS SHE IN THE FEDERATION BUILDING!?!?

He was standing now the chair almost toppling behind him, "Locate cadet 626!" He should've known she would be associated with that number! The computer produced a list of scheduled times for courses, his hand already dialing the line to the Galley to reach its Chief of staff. "Location: main Galley." The computer voiced it's answer as Gantu made a sprint run darting out of his office. She was in the main cafeteria galley, he almost broke into a run redialing the comlink to his Chief of Staff Galley Officer Reuben over and over again until he heard the ormer experiment's voice on the other end.

"What's the emer---"

"Meet me outside the galley NOW!"

He was passing through hallways following the routes through the massive buildings to get to the main Galley. He finally got the outside of the food court where he met the little beige alien standing before the doors. Reuben, formally known as 625, was standing in his uniform with a bewildered expression on his face, his tiny hand pointing in a direction towards a figure sitting in the galley. She was human, her long black hair down against her back wearing the standard female federation uniform of grey top and skirt with the Turo mark on the belt. She was sitting alone at a table with a hot drink in her hands. If he could read her right, her heart rate was calm, but there was a nervousness about her. She looked around unsure of the surroundings... and Gantu couldn't help but empathize with that. Her gaze was back at her mug taking a drink. It was then Reuben peered up at him as Gantu took one more look at the woman.

"....is that...?" All Gantu could do was nod and took a deep breath. "Feel old yet, fishlegs?"

".... ancient. You?" He felt the chuckle escape himself as Reuben looked back at the woman seated some distance away in the Galley, replying,

"At least I don't look it."

The woman who called him the "Big Dummy" sat in silence as the throng of aliens bustled about, some stopping to stare at her and others rushing past not passing a blitz where she was there or not. Gantu felt his blood pressure rise with every alien passing the earthling a nasty look, Reuben was already pestering him to walk over there and reconnect. But.... maybe.... Later would be bes---

He caught her heart rhythm jumping to a fast pace.

A group of males had suddenly descended upon the table, Lilo seemed surprised her big brown eyes peering up at all of them surround her. The males, some bigger others smaller, hunched around her like predators scouting out their prey, one touching her hair, the others kissing the woman's hand as they introduced themselves. One male alien happened to be too closely eyeing up her leg for Gantu's taste. Oh Blitznak... He knew where this was heading... Damn kids thinking with the wrong head!

It was that moment Lilo had stared to look around the table and around at the other aliens like she was internally screaming for help. And their gazes connected. Gantu caught the wave of emotions in the little earthling's brown eyes: panic to shock to sudden relief.... It was all the signal he needed And Gantu pushed the doors open each one banged against the walls. The galley hall went silent. Thousands of aliens, from all ranks, stood straight saluting the Admiral as he entered inside the Galley. "At ease," his voice commanded as the thousands of aliens waited for orders. The Shaelek made a line for the table where Lilo sat still surrounded by the young dumb and full of.... Spunk men, each cadet staring wide eyed as he approached. The boys standing taller and giving the salute.

"Cadet 626, I have been looking for you. You are to report to my office this instant. You, gentleman, have delayed the Cadet for her meeting," Gantu lowered his gaze to the tallest alien's eye level. "Drop. And give me 50. Now."

A ringing SIR, YES SIR! rang through the Galley as all the boys harassing Lilo dropped to the ground and started their push ups. She was staring up at him with her big brown eyes, standing to follow after him as Gantu caught another younger Shaelek walking over to stand before him, "Shall we demand 100, Admiral?" This caused him to chuckle,

"Whatever you see fit, Captain."

And he turned around making his way out the Galley, Lilo trailing behind him to catch up.

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

They hadn't said a word still. Well he hadn't, 625 well Reuben, had PLENTY to say as he walked side by side with the little earthling he called Tyke. As all three of them walked the long distance to his office, Reuben talked about their previous missions, how he introduced sandwiches into the federation, Gantu's promotion to Admiral of all of the Galactic Federation Armada, and of course all the gossip which made Gantus roll his eyes. They reached his office, finally, Gantu held the door open until both of them were inside taking seats from across the floating desk. Lilo's image still up on the holoscreen, the Shaelek was still silent as he sat from across the earthling and his galley officer. His blue eyes searched for the keypad, typing a code onto the desk and a lock hissed from the right side of his desk. He reached for the contents within the drawer, pulling out a large glass bottle with a very worn out label. It appeared to have never been opened.

"I had been... saving this for a very long time." Gantu placed the bottle upon the desk, his eyes scanning the earthling who clung to his every word. Her bright brown eyes seemed to take him in, all of him, Reuben, the whole office...

"... I can't believe you found me..." Her voice sounded... Young but mature alot like her older sister's.

"I can't believe you're here!" Came the voice of 625, he was bursting in his seat. "What brought you here?! When did you enlist?! Where's 626? Which floor is your room!? I can't wait to bunk with ya!"

"Reuben!" Gantu's voice rose to ring in the little genetic mutant as both of them stared at the little earth girl. "Let the earth girl breathe, and I'm sure she'll answer us." It was then Lilo Pelekani sat upright in her chair and crossed her legs.

"Thank you, Admiral, but I'm not a little girl anymore..." Was her heart racing slightly? Embarrassment came over him,

"My apologies, earth woman." How could he have made that blunder? "I guess it's been so long since we've crossed paths I still see you as that little child running around, chasing after dangerous experiments." Lilo's brown eyes blinked rapidly as she gazed up at him.

"I've missed seeing you guys, sandwich boi and big dummy. " She was giggling, Lilo's hands placed within her lap. "I'm just so relieved you're here." Gantu leaned forward on the desk hearing the old nickname, an almost playful scowl crossed his face. She was smiling back at him.

"Still a child I see, huh little tyke?"

"Are they calling you Admiral Blowhard yet?"

"Not yet, primitive earth punk. Still taking in suggestions."

"Captain Catfish?"

"That's Admiral Blowhard Catfish to you, and don't forget it, you little pain in the ass."

There was a silence between them before all three beings within his office burst out laughing. Blitznak, how long had it been since he belly ached laughed like all this? Gantu had his face against his desk laughing before pulling himself back to sit properly in his chair; Reuben was sideways his arm on Lilo and she slumped back still laughing as she wiped her eyes. Blitznak it was good to laugh.

Lilo collected herself, sitting up in her seat drying her eyes. "I was never a pain in the ass! That was Stitch!" Gantu did a quick wipe of his eye before grabbing unopened bottle on his desk, he was actually smiling as memories filled his mind of those years stuck on the mudball. He twisted the cap open letting the grain alcohol breathe.

"You were lucky you were a cute kid. Naming all those experiments like pets, always calling me names, foiling my plans to catch said experiments, and my absolute favorite..." Gantu was pouring the alcohol into three separate glasses, two small one large for himself, as he placed the drinks in front of the others. "...breaking my karaoke machine."

"I swear I never did that!" Lilo protested as she took the glass 625 handed to her, the three beings clinking each other's drinks.

"Don't care, little earth punk, you still owe me one. Drink, that's an order." And down the hatch the golden grain alcohol went. It burned the back of his throat. Whooo blitznak, that was strong!

"Now tell me, Cadet, why are you here?" Lilo began to fill in all details of her life since Gantu and Reuben went back into space.... blitz had time passed quickly.

"How is your sister? She ever marry that other human male who used to follow her around like a lost pup?" Gantu asked sitting back in the office chair, an almost knowing smile spread across his lips. "She had to have. The guy was practically part of your Ohana?" He noticed Lilo smile brightly.

"They did, I'm actually an auntie to 3 little kiddos!" Reuben almost jumped from his seat.

"Seriously! 3 little ones? You hear that, Gantu? I can pass my sandwich recipes down finally!"

"Please," Gantu himself was now leaning over the desk looking right at Lilo, "Please tell me if those kids are giving 626 a run for his money."

"Between time with me and Stitch, and uncle Jumba and aunt Pleakley, everyone is normally too tired to do anything, honestly." Lilo fixed her bangs and took another sip of the drink, "Oh yeah, all the kids chase Stitch day in and day out. He's back on Kauai helping while I'm up here for basic." Gantu leaned back lifting his drink to the ceiling,

"Paybacks a bitch, trog." He chuckled downing the last of the drink.

"What about yourself? Are you with anyone? And younglings?" The beige experiment clapped hoping for more little ones to pass things down to. Gantu noticed a slight flush of rose around the earthling's nose and cheeks, she looked almost mortified at being asked.

"No! No, no I'm not--nope! No kids from me.... Yet...." Lilo answered quickly. The Shaelek reached for the bottle quickly refilling the young woman's glass, delicately he poured a generous amount.

"Reuben asks the most invasive questions, doesn't he?" Lilo was almost downing it to which Gantu barked a laughed. "Easy there, Cadet, save some for the next wave of embarrassment."

"So my cuz isn't up here with you?" Reuben asked her his eyes scanning Lilo over. Even Gantu raised an eyebrow at that.

"Yeah," Lilo was sitting back against the seat her brown eyes cast down at the drink in her hand. He could hear her heartbeats quickening again, an almost sullen emotion emanating from her. "He stayed behind to help with the Ohana, the kids would be heartbroken with out him there... And you know, we keep the other experiments in line..." She glanced at Reuben for a moment. "Guess I'm alone up here."

"No you're not." It was instant. The moment the woman spoke, it was as if she was that little earth girl sitting in the seat before him. He could see the scared little child within her and something pulled at him. Gantu leaned forward and typed a few codes into the keyscreen. Certain images of Cadet 626 flashed upon the holoscreen, check marks turned from red to green, and with a few more key stokes Lilo's image had disappeared from under a rather stern looking lieutenant of a canine alien species to another screen popping up, one where Gantu's own image was placed on top.

"Well would you look at that? I filled that personal assistant position that's been vacant for years." The Shaelek placed both arms on the desk, his blue eyes studying Lilo as she took in all the information before her. "Personal assistants follow high ranking officers at all times, including missions. Unless deemed too dangerous. And they pay well too." He gave her a wink to which Lilo brought her hands to her mouth, a small smile began to spread. "Oh, and when you're not by my side, you are to be with Reuben. Blitznak knows he won't leave your alone..."

"You got that right, tyke! We have so much gossip to discuss!" The beige experiment placed his hand on the little earth girl... woman's arm, gently rubbing it. "You're not alone anymore, were technically Ohana anyway!" Lilo was wrapping her arms around Reuben holding onto him tightly, her watery brown eyes peering up back at Gantu... Ah blitznak, earthling ocular orbs were weapons by themselves!

"How can I ever thank you?" He heard Lilo ask him as she wiped her own eyes on her sleeve. Gantu paused for a moment feeling a smirk spread across his face.

"Replace the karaoke machine." He felt the laugh escape him as he stood carrying himself around the floating office desk, his position now in front of the earth woman hugging onto Reuben for dear life. "I'm kidding, you don't have to do that! But I only ask you follow one rule; you are to never put yourself in danger. Am I clear, Cadet?"

"Yes, Admiral,"

"I mean it, Lilo." His voice was stern as he pointed a finger at her. "When you are not at my side working, you are to be with Reuben. I don't want you alone at any time. You're the first Human to be here, and with that comes a certain amount of.... Unwanted attention." His backside was leaning against the desk both hands now planted on the top. He could see her shift uncomfortably in her seat, the memory of the jarheads in the Galley fresh in her mind. "If the boys get too rowdy, just holler and let them know old Gantu will rip their throats out... Or girls whatever you're into." It was the soft smile and wet eyes that did him in, as Lilo stood with her arms outstretched.

"No. No! I don't do-- Ah blitznak..." She was already hugging his leg tightly. Damn blitznaking kids making him go soft! Gantu leaned over his large hand patting her gently. "You'll be alright, kiddo, I promise."

"We gotta do sandwiches tonight! What will it be?! Ham? Turkey? Bologna? Classic PBJ? You name it, and old Reuben will make it!" The little earth woman's attention to his galley officer, both expressing excitement about the endless possibilities of sandwiches (...great....), The Shaelek paused to note how seemingly right it felt for Lilo to be here. He could see it... One day she would be sitting on the council or captain of her own ship... Blitznak, he could even see her wearing the same uniform as he one day, Admiral of the Galactic Armada, commanding the entire fleet... She was meant to be up here among the stars...

A ping notification went off on his wrist com, his blue eyes took note to the name across the screen. He let the visitor access clearance to walk in. With a slight hiss of the door opening, the visitor walked in his vision glued to the clipboard in his hands. He was a tall Shaelek, deep shade of purple with a lighter shade for his underbelly, well built for his age and rank, and he was wearing the traditional Captain's uniform; black flightsuit with long sleeves and red stripes along the sides. He was younger with only a few minor brawl marks on his fresh face. Upon his head were those aviator sunglasses Gantu gifted him when the young one became Captain of his own ship; his bright green eyes finally looked up and gave a salute... He was the spitting image of Gantu's late brother....

"Admiral, here are the blueprints for the new BRB 12,000 you requested." The younger Captain's voice was deep but still held a hint of youth to it, "There's 170 pages of illustration alone."

"At ease, Captain." Gantu watched the younger man relax handing over the stack of papers.

"It's going to be one hell of a construction job, sir. Hey Reuben! We making that beer battered sand--" The Shaelek Captain was making his way over to beige experiment waving at him...and paused... Stopped in mid sentence.... and Gantu took note the Captain's bright green eyes honed in on the earth woman standing. Reuben was already taking a few steps back to where Gantu stood, both men glanced at one another and back to the young ones before them. He could hear the pulse race within her, ah blitznak.... Was this....??? Gantu noticed Lilo was locked in gaze with the Shaelek staring back at her. Both seemed surprised at each others existence; there was a soft red color upon her cheeks as Lilo brought a hand fix a strand of hair behind her ear. The dark purple Shaelek with green eyes was the first to make a move. "......A-And H--Hel-Hello... To you too, miss...."

"L-Lilo. Im Lilo..."

"Ox. My name's O-Oximus..." Gantu watched the interaction unfold the young Captain bending down to observe the earthling before him. "You're Human... My apologies, I never met a.... Li-Lilo before..." It was then Oximus gazed up at him and Reuben, his bright green eyes wide, "Wait ..... Is she...??" A chuckle escaped Gantu as he nodded.

"Yes, she is. Lilo," he addressed her, "this is my nephew, Oximus." It dawned on him that Lilo didn't know he had other members of his family here on Turo... "Ox, this is the legendary little earth girl, who captured and tamed experiment 626 along with the other 625 experiments and assisted me in the arrest and detainment of Dr Hamsterviel, and..."

"She's the one you tripped over and fell off a cliff landing on your ass!!" Ox suddenly became animated as Reuben burst out laughing. "You're a blitznaking legend here! Did you actually get stuck with my uncle on some island with an experiment that shot flames at you guys?! And one that sank boats?! And one that stole everyone's socks?!"

"Oh that was Splodeyhead!" Lilo laughed, "there are tons of stories I can share, and a few of when Gantu caught some." He caught her brown eyes peering up at him and he had to shrug.

"If you insist."

"That's amazing," Oximus was standing now his hands behind his back. "The legendary Lilo here on Turo in the Galactic Federation. All the cousins back home will be jealous I got to meet you first." He said with a laugh to which Lilo widened her eyes. "We've been told stories from uncle Gantu all about his time on your planet... Is it true you humans strip bare and bake in the sun on the beach?"

"Guilty..." Lilo giggled as a soft rose color flushed against her cheeks, her eyes darted to the floor for a moment.

"I need to hear your side of the time you threw bird legs at my uncle's ship at the primitive earth festival." Ox was smiling brightly as Gantu felt the groan escape him.

"It took months to get the smell of earth fowl out, and so much grease stuck to the windshield..." both youngsters were staring at him now as the older Shaelek let out a sigh. "The festival had good ale though." Lilo happened to fall into a giggle spasm as she fixed her skirt.

"That was with Tank, and I'd be happy to tell you that story."

"Fantastic," Ox was now giving his uncle a look, and cleared his throat, "I'd like to make a request, Admiral, to borrow the human to join me as I retrieve the rest of the BRB 12,000 reports for you." Gantu studied the two for a moment, he could hear Lilo's heart beat faster at the mention of joining his nephew. There was an almost excited air around her and it caused the older Shaelek to ponder something...

"Request granted, Captain. The Cadet is my personal assistant and will have to learn the records hall after all. Be back at 1900 hours." Before he or Reuben could get another word it, both Ox and Lilo had given the salute to him and made their way to the door both exiting. Gantu stood in silence watching the figures walk down the hallway both talking animatedly.... He felt his mind swimming.

His hand reached for the bottle and his empty glass, and Gantu poured himself and Reuben a generous amount. When the little experiment gave him a look, he knew what the other was thinking ...

"So much for keeping herself out of trouble.." the old admiral spoke.

"More like she's found a permanent bodyguard...." Reuben said before he took a sip. "You think they'll want sandwiches at their wedding?" Gantu took a big gulp of the drink before glancing down at his friend.

"............... Probably."

"You're drinking that pretty fast there, bud..." Reuben was scrunching his nose up at him and Gantu shrugged.

"The realization just hit of Jumba and Pleakley might become in laws... One big blended ohana as Lilo would say." The Shaelek had to sign, he should be used to it by now.

"Yeah I mean, this kinda funs in the family... So when are you telling the tyke you married a human a couple years ago?" Reuben raised a brow with an almost playful sneer. To this Gantu barked a laugh placing his drink down and gave his friend a knowing smile.

"When Ox and Lilo both are granted leave for a weekend, and come for a BBQ... Then they'll meet Rachel." Reuben gave a quick pat on his friends leg,

"Your wife needs to give me that recipe for pulled swine meat sandwich, it's been years she has to give it up!"

"Blitznaking hell no, that's why I married her!" Gantu laughed pushing himself away from the desk looking at his wrist communicator; another ping notification. He noticed the time as a smirk spread on his lips. "I'm leaving early, are you alright with making sure those kids don't get into any trouble tonight?" Reuben quirked a brow bringing his face to a dead pan expression.

"I babysat you for 3 years, I think I can handle those two. Now go," the beige experiment started to shoo at him, "I'll watch the kids and make sure they behave! Tell your wife she owes me." Gantu was already grabbing his bag from his desk, the black sling over his shoulder as he looked back at his old friend.

"Have Ox put the reports on my desk, tell Lilo I'll see her tomorrow morning at 800 hours. Don't keep them out too late, 625." The scowl from Reuben was worth it. "Aloha~"

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

His personal cruiser finally arrived out to a plot of land outside the bustling megacity of Turo. This place was far away from the chaos, a slice of tranquility if you will where every weekend time stood still. The house was not like the modern architecture of Turo, it was more Earthlike and homely he had come to like. For over a few acres tall grass grew fenced in around their property where a few bizarre looking illegal genetic experimentations who clung to his wife came to live out their mischievous Lives...His wife called it a ranch, he called it home.

As he made his way up the path to the earthling style home, Gantu could see the human sitting on the large porch; she was laying on the large wicker couch, three large critters laid around her in a protective cocoon. His blue eyes caught the floating lanterns' light luminating her long auburn hair in messy tressels around her, her back leaning against one reptilian experiment dozing off, her pale legs stretched resting on one of the marine experiments snoring away, her beautiful green eyes gazing deeply into the novel she held on her hand... The other hand gently stroking the green canine sock stealer's fur as it munched on one of her socks....

He reached the bottom step to the porch when 4 pairs of eyes peered up at him, the bright emerald orbs of the human he made a vow to a few years ago gazing up at him with excitement. They were his favorite. He watched his wife sit up, her dazzling smile always made his pulse skip a beat...

Gantu had to smirk... Boy would she get a kick out of this!

"Guess who finally enlisted." He could see the wheels in Rachel's mind turning as he climbed the porch steps tossing his bag to the floor and sitting next to her. He had to lift the marine critter like experiment so he could actually sit... the experiment stretched and curled back onto a ball on his lap. "Let's just say, I'm officially Old as Blitz now." Rachel's green eyes went wide at the realization and a huge smile spread on her lips.

"When is she coming for dinner?! You need to find out her favorite food so I can have it ready for her! And don't say sandwiches," Gantu rolled his eyes as his human partner stood pushing the marine experiment off his lap. "She's getting a proper Earth dinner, one that reminds--"

"Her of home." Gantu finished the sentence smirking at his wife. "I think she'll appreciate that very much." Rachel raised a brow an almost knowing smile spread on the soft petals of her lips.

"Maybe your nephew should stop by, you know, someone closer to her age to talk to?" He couldn't contain the laugh that escaped him, his hand rubbing his snout before he peered down at Rachel's inquisitive look.

"OH they met, right in my office!" His wife's stunned expression made Gantu laugh harder as he used his finger to check the air. "Beat you to it babe, completely by accident. Reuben's babysitting them so they don't get into trouble."

"You left the laziest experiment to watch your daredevil nephew and the experiment chasing earth girl?" His wife put her hands on her hips, "The Federation doesn't stand a chance!"

"No, I suppose it doesn't." Gantu let out a chuckle, his arm already around his human wife, "But, it got me out of work early to see you." Rachel's emerald eyes connected with his and they softened. Her smile spreading wider as she leaned her entire body against him.

"Want to sit out here for a while and watch the stars, hun?" The twilight was making her eyes sparkle and it made his heart skip a beat.

"For you," the Shaelek leaned down his snout touching the top of the earthling's head gently taking in her scent, "Always."

And they did, both sitting on their porch a bunch of illegal genetic experiments who needed a home huddled around them.... both watching the night skies and talking about their day. There was one thing for sure, Gantu was most certain.... this weekend was going to be one fun reunion.

[angryhausfrau-writes]

I Travel Troubled Oceans - Chapter 31: In Which Fractures Begin to Form

Jack's little business empire has expanded again. He's essentially running a couture house now – although his application to actually be called a couture house hasn't been approved yet. And indeed, he may need to make some additional inroads to France to actually get the approval of the Federation, but he meets all of the requirements.

He's even moved into a dedicated studio space, with state-of-the-art technology and two-dozen seamstresses, largely provided by Eme, and acres of storerooms and even a catwalk for critiquing designs. Because despite all the digital drawing boards, Jack is still very much mocking up designs on the dressmaker's dummies before actually putting pen to paper. Or gigantic touchscreen computers. Whichever.

Still, it's all very modern and sleek and impressive to the investors he's seeking to court. Housed in a converted warehouse, the noble brick edifice pocked with large, modern windows, it's the exact mix of historical precedent and modern sensibility that has built his (Max's) real estate empire. And just like the imperial remnants making up his gullible marks on the real estate side of things, the same toffee mouthed suit wearing old guard eats it up on the fashion side as well. Or their wives do, at any rate, and he's discovered that a lot of the time, the wives are the ones holding the pocket books.

Just as the industrial revolution forced the landowning British aristocracy to look to gauche American millionairesses for bridal stock, a similar thing is happening now with the technological revolution.

So many nouveau riche sprouting up out of the woodwork with their computer security systems or their sweatshops full of overseas call center employees, providing goods and services no one who attended Eton would ever have thought to invest in, at least non until it became ubiquitous. It's not prestigious or old money enough.

There's an over-the-top glamour to it that just appears chintzy when compared to the rambling country estates and the pheasant hunts and all the pageantry of the old money crowd. But those country estates are crumbling at the foundations. Those hunts a show put on to pretend that they haven't burned through all their money. That they're still relevant. Powerful.

But that's the thing. It's a show that works. A trick that's fooled a great number of the nouveau riche that despite all of their millions, they still haven't made it. They're still not really sitting in the seat of power carved out by thousands of years of noble British arses.

And so they either get angry, fight to make their type of rich the only on that matters, or they “marry up.” Buy their way into the prestige they crave. The gravitas of the British empire at it's height. The ruins of British aristocracy can all be had, and for a comparative pittance.

After all, it's what Jack's doing.

And the brothel has payed major dividends by way of an impoverished hotel chain owner (gambling debts, you understand) looking to offload some property quickly. It's a block of residential flats he'd purchased with the intent to demolish them and put up a luxury hotel once waterfront development got a bit further along. As he and the other property owners hadn't had the Councilor on side, the redevelopment efforts went nowhere and the flats have sat vacant for nearly two decades.

Why he didn't just choose to rent them out? Well, that would take effort, wouldn't it. And he hadn't gotten where he'd been (millions of pounds in debt to some very unsavory individuals) by putting in effort, by planning for the future instead of living in the now now now.

Jack, on Max's orders, of course, had snapped the flats up for a song. They're not in the residential market, but a little elbow grease and they'd be quite livable. Much more livable than the council estates most of Eme's seamstresses and house cleaners and some of Max's brothel girls lived at.

A perk of the job, as he'd keep the rent reasonable (for London) and he'll feel better with all his eggs under one easily protected roof. There's been whispers of a new player on the streets. One who's gunning for Flint's old spot on the hierarchy. One who, unlike Flint, only desires to sew chaos and disorder, and who wields violence as his only tool.

Charles has tried to find out more, but his underground boxing ring knows only the same rumors Max has heard. That they're foreign and are going after, well, everyone. Random people in the street. Businesses and banks. No real motive or method, other than mayhem.

Mary is getting brought along to threaten someone on the Immigration Council into giving immigration visas to all the people Eme's found to staff their little business empire. They've been living in Britain for years – in some cases decades – but in the shadows. Below the radar. Brought in as cleaners or farm laborers or just because they had family already living there, family to take them in and help them get jobs away from the plantations and resort hotels of the Caribbean. And now they have the political capital to make them legal citizens.

Via blackmail gained at the illegal brothel they run, but still.

And normally, it'd be Charles going with Anne. Or going by himself, really. He loves that sort of thing, B&E and breaking kneecaps and all. But he's not really on board with this mission, is the thing. Had a giant screaming row with Jack about it, in fact.

Tying them down with legal identities had been one complaint. Plus there's the whole thing with becoming landlords and then generously offering those apartments to their employees for well below the average London rent. Who wouldn't want that?

Charles, apparently, who thinks everyone should be a squatter with no legal address or birth certificate.

Frankly, Mary doesn't see anything wrong with charging rent for the flats they just bought. Sure, they don't have a mortgage they need to pay off, but there's always projects to be funded. Palms to be greased and favors to be bought. Leverage to be applied.

Mary knows because she compiles all the files on their marks and their potential enemies and their potential allies. Who they can afford to screw over and who they need to make nice with.

And Mary doesn't see the big deal about making the flats available only to their employees. That way you know who you're renting to. You know your customers. And they have incentive to stay at the job, or to keep their flats clean and in good order.

But Charles hadn't seen it that way and now things have descended into sullen silence and is probably why Anne was so eager to get out of the house. And Mary so eager to go with her when usually her contributions to the gang lie in the realm of paper pushing and handling all the actual office tasks that go along with running a semi-legitimate business.

But she'd been on the streets before. As a dealer, sure, but still. She knows how to handle herself. And the gun she's got in her boot makes her feel a lot better about the whole thing. And Anne never goes anywhere without her knives. But they're starting off genteel like, with blackmail of the Councilor with his mistress from the brothel. And if that doesn't work, well. There's plenty of ways they can go from there.

It's worth it to keep Eme on board. Providing workers and providing legitimacy to their cover story of being from the Bahamas.

They're playing with expectations, after all. Making people think Jack's legitimate. That he started legitimately as a designer and clothing manufacturer in Nassau. And he had workers there. Workers he wants to bring to Britain, because they're trained in already. Because he's an eccentric millionaire and he can do whatever he pleases. And the Immigration Council will let him.

Or, they will once she and Anne are through with them.

[tteokdoroki]

— DUMMY DADDY + tobio kageyama.

↳ warnings: fluff, parent!au, reader is a mother, i just wanted to write tobi as a daddy !!! pls he’s so cute i love him so so much. your baby boy says his first word and it’s not what either of you expect.

“it’s going to be mama,” you tell kageyama matter of factly. “his first word is going to be mama.”

you don’t need to look at the setter to know that he’s glaring daggers into your back while you prepare a fruitsnack for your baby boy. “how do you know that?” the glares only continue when you turn, holding out a bowl of mushed apples and peach to your son as he gargles happy sounds towards his parents.

“mother’s intuition, tobio.”

your husband scoffs, snatching the bowl from you so you have both your hands to take a seat at the table— sitting on the other side of your baby’s high chair. “well,” he starts. “you’re wrong, s’gonna be papa. ain’t that right lil’ man.” the man coos, hand becoming an aeroplane and garnering the interest of his carbon copy as he spoons the crude baby food mix past tiny lips and into a slobbering mouth. he claps chubby hands down on his high chair, kicking socked feet out when tobio spoon feeds him again. “see? daddy’s his favourite.”

“whatever,” you huff, but you don’t fight the smile that tugs on your lips watching the two of them interact. if tobio is your sun; then your little thirteen month old is your husband’s stars moon and night sky. he’s been kageyama’s favourite person since he was just a twinkle in either of your eyes— since you held up three pregnancy tests over a shitty facetime call when your husband was abroad, playing for his Italian team.

they’ve been inseparable since his birth, as soon as your boy was able to leave the house tobio had his baby carrier court side during practices for the Olympic team. your baby would laugh loud and proud whenever his daddy made super high jumps and sets for uncle hinata, whenever he and uncle tsumu got into little squabbles on the court. your baby smiles just like tobio does when you take him to italy for his first birthday— they’re the spitting image of each other, you’d find that with a quick swipe through your camera roll.

two sets of sapphire blue eyes and mops of black fluffy hair— it’s almost unfair how identical they are, he’s just barely got the slope of your nose and your lopsided smile and somehow the beauty mark you have dotting your left cheek, but still. he’s yours, and tobio’s a product of your love that your husband had cried over when he came into the world silent and not screaming like you’d hoped. only for a minute though, you’d later discover through sleepless nights that your son had a set of pipes on him.

oh how little kageyama had grown, how he’d changed your life as well as his daddy’s… so to you, it didn’t matter what his first word was— not really. it was just another moment for you to treasure and admire your boys.

“tell mama that i’m your favourite,” tobio grins, tickling your chubby little baby till you’re sure his cheeks are sore and you hum in content, resting your own cheek on the seat of your palm.

“not gonna happen, tobi, he’s a mama’s boy,” you interject and reach up, twirling a black strand of baby hair between your fingers. “say mama f’me honey,” it’s your turn to coo, lifting yourself from your seat to press kisses all over the right side of your son’s face.

kageyama mimics you, taking over the left side so that no area of your son’s face goes untouched. “nuh uh, we’ll see about that—!” neither of you expect the baby hand to slap down into his bowl of mush causing it to fly up and everywhere— smacking the father of your child in the face and ruining your counter tops. your baby squeals in amusement, slapping his dirty hands everywhere at the sight of his messy parents.

“no baby, don’t do that,” you whine, already reaching for the paper towels to clean both of your boys up. “so silly, huh baby?”

big blue eyes look up at you with unadulterated innocence— as if he hasn’t just destroyed your kitchen and ruined kageyama’s favourite shirt but you can’t stay mad at him, letting your pro volleyball player husband wipe the mush from his hands and face.

“you’re lucky your mum loves you bud, not even i could get away with this.”

“d-du!” your baby squeals back, making both you and kageyama freeze in your place— slowly looking back to him as he sweetly stumbles over his first word. “du-! duuu!”

you whip out your phone faster than you can say your son’s name— smiling at him encouragingly while he looks between his unsuspecting parents. “go on baby!! say mama, ma-ma!”

“nuh uh, daddy…da-da!”

your son blinks slow and then says. “dum’ass!”

tobio kageyana has never been more in fear of his life than he had right now— your gaze burning a hole in his shoulder while your baby gets his hands dirty in the moosh on his baby chair. “it was nice knowing you, baby.” the setter says solemnly, pinching his son’s cheeks.

“dududu—dum’ass!!”

“tobio—“

“dum’ass!”

kageyama squishes your baby’s face together in desperation, as you put away your phone to finish cleaning up. “c’mon sweetheart, you wanna grow up with your dad in your life don’cha?” he pulls your baby into his lap, making him wave to you on behalf your husband who’s matching blue gem eyes are begging for your forgiveness. “‘m sorry mama!” tobio coos in a baby voice.

“du’mmy!”

“you’re really hitting the nail on daddy’s coffin baby,” you can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the pair, ruffling two sets of beautiful black locks and pressing kisses to their faces— an extra long, sloppy lingering one under tobio’s ears. “but i’ll deal with that later, sweetheart. you really need to stop calling uncle hinata names when you take our baby to practice.” you scold him.

but you’re hardly serious, not when your boys look at you with mischievous and loving blue eyes.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Today, Deuce Spade, Ace Trappola, Idia Shroud, and Azul Ashengrotto were summoned by an Anon.

What are they up to today, I wonder? Let’s see for ourselves!

Love is Blind!

“You’re cheating.”

“I believe you are sorely mistaken, Ace-san,” Azul purred, fanning out a hand of play money before himself. “It cannot be helped if you are lacking in luck or entrepreneurial abilities. Perhaps if you were more focused on managing your resources instead of accusing me of playing foul, you would be closer to victory.”

“You’ve definitely gotta be cheating!!”

Ace stood abruptly, causing his chair to squeal across the floor. He slammed his hands on the table—dice, cards, and player pieces glattering from the motion. Sandwiched between the upset first year and a smug octopus, Idia jumped in his seat.

“E-Eep!!”

“Ace, stop that!” Deuce barked, setting up what few precious paper Madol he had left down. “We came to have fun, not to argue with our upperclassmen.”

“But he’s been winning every single round of Monopoly since we started!!” Ace shot back, pointing an accusing finger at Azul.

“Then maybe Ashengrotto-senpai is right, and you need to worry more about yourself than what others are doing.”

“Oi, are you taking his side, Deuce?!”

“I’m on no one’s side.”

“You’re fine with playing the same thing again and again and losing over and over? That’s not fun at all!!”

“I just want to play without getting into a shouting match!!”

“Y-You’re getting into a shouting match anyway...” Idia shrunk into himself and away from the argument.

“Gentlemen, gentlemen—let’s settle down. If the current game is a cause for concern, then we can easily change it.” Azul jerked his head in the direction of a closet. Its door was ajar, a number of board games and card decks spilling out onto the floor.

“W-Whatever gets these normies to shut up...”

“As a courtesy to the Board Game Club’s guests, I will allow you, Ace-san and Deuce-san, to do the honor of picking our next game,” the octopus offered, waving a hand at the overflowing closet. “You may choose whatever you wish, so long as we have the equipment for it.”

“Haaah? You’ll just let us pick whatever we want?” Ace’s exasperated expression suddenly morphed into something more... sadistic. Glancing to classmate, his lips yanked into a cocky smirk. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking, Deuce-kun?”

He returned the devious look. “I thought you’d never ask, Ace-kun.”

Azul’s smile fell, and Idia’s stomach lurched.

Why did they have a bad feeling about this?

The squeal of sneakers and a flurry of footsteps echoed off the basket court. Two boys flew across the polished floor, while another pair lagged after them—panting and sweating buckets.

I-Is this Tartarus? Idia wondered.

Though the bleachers were empty, he felt as though the weight of the world were upon his shoulders. Idia was exposed under the strong lights, with heat tearing through the weak body of a shut-in. He would keel over any moment now.

Azul was not faring much better, his face blotchy and bright pink from chasing the first years around the court. His legs trembled like jelly. The poor boy’s glasses kept sliding down his face frok how slick with sweat his skin was—he needed to push them back up every few seconds.

But his pride would not allow him to forfeit.

“I’m open! Pass!!” Ace called out to his partner.

Deuce chucked the basketball hard. It sailed in an arc from his chest to Ace’s. He caught it easily, dribbling it to the other side of the court.

“Idia-san...!! We must defend our hoop!” Azul shouted, his words coming out in short spurts.

“I-It’s pointless, Azul-shi. Th-The princess will be in another castle by the time we make it there...” The otaku stumbled, managing to save himself by catching his knees.

“Now is not the time for your gamer colloquialisms!” Azul gritted his teeth. “At this rate, we will lose!”

“I-I don’t think we can...”

The octopus was already gone before Idia could complete his sentence, racing off toward Ace—Ace, who was aiming. Ace, who was preparing to shoot his shot. Ace, who let the ball fly from his fingertips.

“Tch...!!” Azul lunged, aiming to smack the ball out of Ace’s grasp—

—but instead, he caught the basketball with his face. His glasses smashed against him, and with a groan, Azul collapsed onto the floor, clutching onto his head.

At once, the other boys paled and scrambled to his side.

“Oh, crap...!! Azul-senpai!! Are you okay?!”

Riddle-ryocho is going to behead me if he hears about this. Ace winced at the thought.

“Eeeeeep!! H-His health got knocked down to zero!!” Idia looked as though he, too, would faint.

“A-Ashengrotto-senpai?! Get a hold of yourself! Ashengrotto-senpai!!” Deuce seized Azul by the shoulders and roughly shook him. The octopus’s head flopped back and forth uselessly, a dazed expression on his face.

“Oi, cut it out, dummy! You’ll make it worse!!”

“Haaaah... Th-This is why I didn’t want to get involved with these troublesome things...”

“Did you say something, Shroud-senpai?”

“I-It’s nothing...!! N-Nothing at all... I-I just think... w-we should bring him to the infirmary to heal up.”

“For a quiet guy, you got some good ideas.” Ace laughed. “Hey, Azul-senpai, you need help walking there?”

“I can walk perfectly fine by myself, thank you very mu—“ Midsentence, he stumbled and landed against Deuce.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then.” Ace flanked Azul, offering his shoulder to lean on and a cheeky grin. “C’mon, no harm, no foul. Take it as an apology for messin’ up your face.”

“Yeah, what Ace said! Please let us make it up to you. It’s the least we can do.”

“... Hmph. You Heartslabyul first years... Riddle-san has helped you shape up a bit, I see.” Azul closed his eyes and sighed. “Very well. I will accept your assistance just this once. Consider it a deal.”

“Th-Then... it’s a t-truce?”

“Fufu. A truce it is, then.”

“That—“

“Yup! Sounds good to me!” Ace chirped, cutting his friend off. “So, since we settled things, there’s noooo need to tell Riddle about this, right?”

Azul smile was sunny.

Deceptively so.

“If that is what you desire, perhaps we can arrange another deal. How does two weeks of labor at the Mostro Lounge sound in exchange for buying my silence on this matter?”

... Crap.

[mooshys]

zara employee!AU futakuchi

content: me trying to be funny, retail headcanons

word count: 2.0k

a/n: ah yes, so winter (@/wackatoshi) and I planned out this entire mall universe for the hq boys and it’s the funniest thing to think about. y’all know those rude zara employees at the mall who judge you as soon as you walk in and tell you that “everything’s out on the floor already” when you ask for a size up? and all the racks on the floor are in shambles? that’s what inspired this. not sure if another installment will be added to this, but whatever! for reference, the other employees: oikawa, ennoshita, kuroo, hanamaki.

the worst person to work with... ever

he completely fits the stereotype of zara employee

will go on his lunch break, but “accidentally” forget to clock out, so he’s still earning cash for eating his sandwich in the back. also prolongs his breaks by at least 5 minutes

can never be found when there’s a rush. and by the time they DO find him, the store is completely empty

comes in late, but leaves as soon as his shift ends

never comes to the store on his days off and whenever the managers text him asking if he can pick up a shift he says he’s “busy”

everyone knows it’s a lie. one time ennoshita, the manager, went on his break and saw futakuchi buying a pretzel at the auntie anne's from the mall food court even though he texted ennoshita like thirty minutes ago that he already had important plans for the day. futakuchi made direct eye contact with him as he took a bite into his pretzel, not the least bit apologetic about lying

all his coworkers wonder how he still has this job

spends most of his shift complaining about working than actually working

when people ask if there are any other sizes in the back, he’ll go to the storage room, play on his phone for 5 minutes, and then walk out to the customer and tell them that they're out of stock

will say he’s doing go-backs, but in reality he’s just walking around the store in circles to avoid work

when he’s REALLY annoyed he sometimes won’t even wear his name tag on the floor so the customers don’t know if he works there and will leave him alone

doesn’t even try to hide how disgruntled he is with work, will literally say “I hate this job” loud enough for customers to hear when he’s shit talking with oikawa behind the register. does loud audible sighs when a customer comes up to check out if he’s in the middle of telling a story

awful at folding the clothes. he might as well just compress all the shirts into a ball and toss them into the bag instead

DESPISES CLOSING WITH A PASSION. he hates staying back even five minutes to pick clothes off from the ground. will literally curse that the company is so inconsiderate of his time even though he clocked in late to his shift...

if you’re on shift with him be prepared to do all the work... go see a chiropractor cuz you’ll basically be carrying him on your back the whole time!

he also finds the most creative ways to get others to do his work for him. his usual victim is hanamaki. he’ll go up to him and say “hey, do you mind folding up all the shirts in zone B for me? ennoshita asked me to organize the back since we’re doing new promos tomorrow” and hanamaki’s so clueless and goes “yeah! sure dude, I got it!”

futakuchi doesn’t organize in the back, he hides behind all the boxes while crouched down on his phone for about twenty minutes before going out on the floor again

someone save hanamaki he’s literally doing futakuchi’s work for him... poor boy needs a RAISE

you actually don’t work at the store futakuchi works at, you’re a part timer at another nearby store

during the holiday season the zara futakuchi works at gets super busy and you take a few extra shifts there to help out

you and futakuchi have an... interesting relationship

first thing you say when you see him during the holiday season: “you haven’t been fired yet?”

he’s rolling his eyes going “oh haha. very funny. saw you were at the bottom of sales last week. that’s probably why you’re always getting transferred here, huh.”

you two are constantly snapping back at each other, even when you’re ringing other people up at the registers. the customers are standing there awkwardly as you two scan and passive aggressively insult each other

it’s so weird, like you two are so mean to each other, but at the same time you’re both practically attached to the hip during your shifts together

futakuchi is more... punctual during the holiday season and even takes a COUPLE EXTRA SHIFTS which floors ennoshita (he’s so moved, he thinks futakuchi has had a change of heart and is trying to improve his work ethic... buddy that’s not it, I’m so sorry)

every time you clock in, futakuchi is there too and you’re going. oh great. not this guy again. it’s like clockwork, as soon as your shift starts, you’re at each others’ neck

when you diss the way he folds clothes, he’s scrutinizing your high pitched customer service voice

at first the other guys are laughing at what’s going on between you two and they’re thinking you two are Mortal Enemies For Life

but then they start noticing little by little that your relationship with futakuchi isn’t like that at all

when you’re scolding futakuchi with his awful folding, you take the time to show him all the steps to make a clean display free of wrinkles. he’s standing next to you trying to imitate the way your hands work on the fabric. he adds in a few snarky comments here and there, but you hush him as you’re giving instructions

and when you’ve got a huge rack of clothes from the dressing room that need to go back on the floor, futakuchi offers to help you put them away. he’ll say “ennoshita told me to help out” and you brush it off, but he’s actually lying. he’s helping you on his own accord

he has his asshole persona to keep up with, so he’s still sliding in snide remarks, but you’re so used to it and can keep up with him that he’s always on his toes. he likes this back and forth with you

one day, kuroo starts talking about you with futakuchi to get the 411 on what’s going on between you two. futakuchi denies it all until kuroo starts teasing him by saying he’ll ask you on a date. that’s when futakuchi’s going. wait what

“yeah, there’s a nice restaurant about ten minutes from here and I think going there on a date would really—”

futakuchi starts internally freaking out. he’s going “oh. a date. at a nice italian restaurant near here. wow.”

and kuroo’s got a nice lopsided grin because HE KNOWS and he’s still egging him on

that’s when it finally hits futakuchi. he... he likes you. He Likes You A Lot

the tips of his ears start turning red at this sudden revelation

and upon seeing this kuroo’s like "Alright bud, I was just messing with you. But if you don’t ask her out on a date then I sure as hell will!"

futakuchi’s going alright man give me like a week

Bro futakuchi is even MEANER to you than he was before because he Likes you and Doesn’t Know How To Deal With His Feelings since he’s got the emotional capacity of a grade schooler

futakuchi: wow. that blouse you’re wearing. it suits you.

you: really? thank you I think the color—

futakuchi: yeah. it’s ugly. like you.

you: ...

kuroo’s watching the exchange from the register completely horrified. he’s like. what have I done. futakuchi whips his head over with pleading eyes when you tell him to shove it and kuroo’s shaking his head thinking “I never should have gotten involved”

he’s in too deep already and when you leave the floor to help ennoshita with the stockroom, kuroo has another one-on-one with futakuchi. he tells him the basics like “Don’t call the person you like Ugly”

“well what else am I supposed to say”

truly a lost cause...

it’s like talking to a wall with futakuchi. kuroo’s telling him to be polite and sweet to you and futakuchi’s nodding his head in understanding, but as soon as he’s within a 3ft radius near you his brain is thinking “insult them for attention” kuroo’s like DUDE. WHAT DID I SAY.

this sad exchange goes on for a week and by then kuroo’s like. I give up on you. I can’t deal with this and the holiday rush. he’s waving up the white flag

futakuchi’s been kinda meaner to you than before, so you start ignoring him a bit and he’s getting so frustrated with himself that he doesn’t even know what to do and kuroo notices you two not talking AT ALL during a shift and he’s like. Futakuchi. Just Confess Already. Jesus.

futakuchi wishes he never realized he likes you because he wants to go back to those work days when you two would be Kinda Cheeky towards each other and everything was lax

the confession happens when ennoshita assigns you and futakuchi to work on orders in the back room. at first, futakuchi was trying to find hanamaki to do the work for him, but was promptly dragged by ennoshita to the back. there was no getting out of this

when he saunters on in, he sees you’re already printing out the shipping labels and folding up boxes and it’s silent, your back is facing him and he can definitely feel something is wrong

you saw him searching for hanamaki on the floor and it hurt your feelings because were you that insufferable to work with?

there’s silence between you two and then you break it and tell him that he can go back on the floor if he doesn’t want to work with you

and he can sense the hurt in your voice and he’s like... no, no, no that isn’t it

you’re shaking your head and saying “look, I get it. I get on your nerves. I could tell from this past week and you avoiding me. sorry if I did anything wrong... you can grab hanamaki and we’ll finish these orders while you work in the front”

now futakuchi is internally screaming NONONONONO in his mind because YOU’RE not annoying him at all he’s just a complete dummy who doesn’t know how to deal with his own emotions and now you’re on the verge of crying as you fold some shirts with tissue paper

it’s now or never

futakuchi blurts out that he Really Likes You

at first you think he’s joking and you’re going “Are you serious right now? I’m literally crying and you think NOW is the time to do some fake middle school confession? you’re sick”

POOR GUY HE’S LIKE “NO I REALLY MEAN THAT I LIKE YOU... A LOT...”

he’s right next to you now and grabs onto your shoulders so you can get a good look at his face. his eyes are all business as he confesses again

you’ve got your hand over your mouth and it hits you

futakuchi being Extra Mean to you is his way of showing affection...

now you’re throwing your head back in laughter because he’s so dumb. he’s tall and handsome and too cheeky for his own good, but he’s also like an elementary school kid realizing he’s got his first ever crush and he has absolutely No Idea how to Deal With It

after you’re done laughing, you lightly hit him on the chest and throw in a few lighthearted insults before you hug him as tight as you can. he returns the favor by wrapping his arms around you, practically engulfing you

he’s thinking wow. this is nice. he’s keeping his mouth clamped shut to avoid ruining the moment, but he’s totally digging the way you fit perfectly in his arms

when you pull away you notice his face is red all over and now you’re cracking up and calling him tomato head

and at this, he’s pointing at your running mascara and is like “sure I look like a tomato, but you’re looking like a reject Joker with all that smudged makeup”

now you two are fighting in the back, but in a more loving manner

as soon as you both clock out for the night, futakuchi takes you to the nice italian restaurant nearby. the one kuroo mentioned about a week beforehand

it’s the perfect place for a first date

(he’s too prideful to thank kuroo, but what he instead does is send a selfie with you in the picture + the food during the first date. kuroo’s slow clapping it out. he knew the little asshole could do it.)

[stillebesat]

Be My Dad

Sanders Sides: Janus, Logan  A Vague AU Writing Prompt: @wildhorsewolf​ asked: Guess I'm a parent now with Janus being the dad and Logan being the kid Blurb: Janus has no interest in being a parental figure to a kid, but trying to convince the universe of that is another thing entirely.  Fic Type: Familial Soulmate!AU Overall Fic Warnings: Mentions of Scars  Taglist in Reblog.

To most souls, a food court was a necessary evil. Loud. Lots of people. But plenty of food options all together in one place. Perfect for those who liked a variety of choices or those who had picky eaters in tow.

It was a place to meet up with friends, family, or business associates. A place where one could sit back and observe society at work. To see people at their best...and most definitely at their worst. 

There was something soothing about the chaos that Janus enjoyed...as a spectator. He could never imagine being right in the middle of it.

Not unless he was doing what he was doing right now. Trying to hide in plain sight in the middle of a crowd.

After all. He was thirty now. Single. Childless.

Obviously a menace to society in a universe that seemed obsessed with everyone being part of a ‘family.’ 

A Universe that had decreed that all adults who remained childless by the age of thirty, would then be subjected to being bombarded with children in need of a proper parent figure to bond with in their lives.

He exhaled, absently brushing against the raised scar on his cheek, barely looking up as a child burst out wailing nearby.

He’d checked earlier. That particular wailer hadn’t had the golden sparks. It meant he was safe. 

For now.

He ran a hand through his hair, flipping another page in his notebook before he continued scrawling on the page. Maybe Virgil had actually been onto something when he said he was vanishing into the wilderness of Europe for the rest of his life. 

Sure, Janus had laughed six months ago when his best friend had turned thirty and begun complaining about all the kids coming out of the woodwork to ask him to be their Dad.

It’d seemed impossible at the time. To have children want to come up to Mr. Shadows Incarnate and expect Virgil to put them to bed and tell a bedtime story.

Now though, he understood why Vee had become more reluctant to leave his house as the year had worn on. Because the mini spawns really had come out of nowhere once his own thirtieth birthday hit. 

And it was awful. 

Wherever he went, it was inevitable that some child would approach him, shimmering golden sparks floating around them indicating that they were looking for a Parent Bond. 

It was also as inevitable that he would scare them away just as quickly. 

After all, his halfmoon scar and creepy yellow eyes had caused plenty of kids to scream and run with a single look years before his thirtieth birthday. 

No, at least Virgil had a bit of that shy emo charm that made him more approachable, even if the merest appearance of anyone under four feet had his best friend going pale as a corpse and ducking out before the kid could take more than two steps towards him.

Privately he was certain Virgil would find a kid perfect for him before the year was out, despite his best friend’s attempt to avoid the inevitable.

He knew Virge would make a good dad. Compassionate. Protective. His best friend had a dozen other traits that would benefit him when the right child flared with him. 

Unlike Janus.

Who could make a grown man cry with less than four words and a glower.  

No. He couldn’t imagine having any child coming to him in the middle of the night expecting comfort. 

He knew he was intimidating.

He knew he could be scary.

It wouldn’t be fair to subject a child to that on a daily basis.

Honestly, it felt like a slap to the face that no matter how much he achieved, how many degrees he got, or businesses he owned, or careers he pursued, or money he made…

The universe felt that one couldn’t be complete unless said person also had a screaming, slobbering, dirty child in tow.

Janus ran a hand through his hair, again brushing the crescent scar on his cheek as he looked up long enough to watch a cluster of mothers with their dozen and a half children in strollers rush by, seeking salvation at the nearest set of golden arches with at least four of the kids already screaming for their happy meal toy. 

Even if he did make a connection with any kid brave enough to approach him...Janus could never imagine trying to coerce a screaming brat into eating their chicken nuggets all by himself. Could never stand to walk around with food, slobber or worse, vomit stains on his best suits like a badge of honor. Could never be patient enough to listen to the long and rambling and pointless stories he’d heard multiple parents suffer through while observing them here in the food court.

No. There was no way Janus would allow the universe a say in how he ran these next five years of his life.

He had goals.

Life plans.

And he didn’t need some interfering Being with an obviously unhealthy parent complex ruining that.

The scrapping of a chair being pulled back broke through the gentle hum the noise the chaos of the food court had receded to, causing Janus to look up from his paper in time to see a boy, wearing a faded black long sleeved shirt with matching glasses and thankfully older than the screaming toddler throwing french fries six tables over, plop down in the seat across from him.

A child. With golden sparks shimmering in the air around him. 

Oh goodie.

Janus barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. And here he’d thought that the fact that he’d caused a pair of twin girls, a baby, three boys, six preteens, and four other children under the age of five to scream in terror and/or burst into tears before the lunch rush had even started would have been enough for the universe to call it quits for the day on attempting a Parent Bond.

“I have a prospersition for you.” The boy said, making eye contact. Janus blinked, pen pausing mid stroke as he raised an eyebrow to the child. Prosper...prosper? Oh. “A prop-osition?” He asked, careful to pronounce the word correctly. 

The boy nodded once, pushing his glasses back up his nose. “Prop-osition” he repeated, saying it properly this time. “Will you listen to it? Please?” 

Oh, now there was a please? The kid hadn’t even said hello. Janus exhaled, running a hand through his hair, again fingering the raised scar on his cheek, eyes darting about without much hope for any sign of a frantic adult looking for their wayward offspring as he sat back, tapping his pen on the table. “I’m busy.”  

The boy’s eyes flashed. “No you’re not.”

Janus scoffed, gesturing to his papers. “I assure you that I a--”

“Are doing what you do every Friday. You’re not busy. You just sit here. All day. Reading. Writing.”  

Observant. Janus frowned, again glancing around for a guardian figure. He didn’t think children thought much beyond eating, sleeping, and playing with their peers. “That is considered being busy by most people, I don’t have time to tal--”  

The boy shifted to his knees, the golden sparks dancing around him as he carefully placed eight quarters on the table before pushing the pile over to him. “For your time.” He said, looking up to meet Jansus’s eyes once more.

Clever. Not quite the amount he usually took for a consultation, but he doubted a child could come up with that much cash. Still. It was the first time one of these golden sparked spawns of the devil decided to pay him instead of screaming bloody murder. 

Janus exhaled, laying down his pen, sitting up as he clasped his fingers together, resting his chin on them. “I’m listening.” Though he doubted anything good would come from this proposition. He could already predict the direction this would go.

The boy relaxed, though he stayed half kneeling on his chair. “I need you,” his mouth twisted slightly, grey eyes glittering. “to pretend to be my Father.” 

Father? Ha. Called it. “No.”

Golden sparks flared as the boy lifted his chin. “You didn’t even ask ‘Why.’”

He smirked, ignoring the sinking feeling in his stomach as he pushed the coins back. “I don’t need to.” It was obvious why the kid wanted to play pretend. After all, the sparks surrounding him were only visible to those like Janus. Single. Between the age of thirty and thirty-five. Childless. If the kid needed a fake dad...well this wasn’t his first rodeo with the concept. “You either need protection from some bullies, which--” He gestured to himself. “You think I look scary enough to intimidate them.” Though not scary enough to keep the kid from bugging him in the first place. “Or else you have lied to your friends about who your Dad is or what he does and so--”

“You’re wrong.”   

Janus cut off, tilting his head. “Am I?” He was certain he wasn’t. 

“You are.” The boy kept eye contact, grey blue eyes hard as stone. 

It would be an intimidating gaze once he grew older, Janus was sure. “Enlighten me.”

The boy pushed the coins back across the table. “The Aquarium is having a Father/Son day today. I want to go.” 

Not what he meant by enlighten, but he’d humor the kid. “So?”

The boy rolled his eyes, shifting to his knees so he could better rest his arms on the table. “I can’t exactly partisiis--partissee--par--” 

“Participate?”

He nodded. “I can’t exactly participate if I go by myself, dummy.”

Dummy? Who just helped the kid pronounce ‘participate?’ 

Janus shoved the quarters back to the boy before picking up his pen, tapping it against the table. He could see the kid’s problem though. It made sense why the aquarium wouldn’t want to let hordes of little demon spawn run around tapping on the glass, licking the floors, and breaking things unsupervised. “I’m not spending fifty dollars to play your Dad, kid, just so you can look at some fish.” 

A pet store would work just as well and wouldn’t cost a dime. If he was willing to go along with this.

Which he wasn’t.

He didn’t even like fish. Not since that stupid childhood fishing accident that had given him the lovely scar on his face in the first place.

No way would he willingly go along with some brat to a place filled to the brim with the creatures.

Despite how brilliant of a scheme it was. One Janus would have used himself though under different circumstances. 

Though he supposed, if he felt like admitting it, which he didn’t, but he still---it….hurt in a way, that the kid, even having the sparks, just wanted to use him to get in to see some boring fish instead of trying out a real Trial with him to see if they had any sort of parental bond. 

It was a stupid feeling. 

He should be used to being used. 

The boy adjusted his frames, barely blinking as he shoved the quarters back across the table, staring Janus down. “Adults get in for only ten dollars today. Kids get in free. If.” He emphasized the word. “Their Father brings them.” He shifted in his seat, pulling out a twenty and slid it across the table. “For your ticket.” He said simply, eyes flashing. “I’m only asking for your time. I don’t want to go on a Trial with you. I don’t need or want a Dad. I just need an adult with the time on his hands to pretend to be one and let me esplore the place for two measlely hours.”

Double ouch. At least some kids attempted to do an actual Trial Run with him to see if their sparks would Flare before being so blunt in telling him he wouldn’t be their Dad. 

Janus frowned, already shaking his head. “Kid, I don’t--” 

The boy pulled out another twenty, placing it on the table. “Two hours.” He said simply.  

“You don’t even know me--” Sure, he knew the boy knew he was in the Trial stage of life since the stupid floating sparks thing, even if he couldn’t see his own, went both ways. But that didn’t mean that he should just shove--

The boy placed a third twenty on the table. 

Janus exhaled, running a hand through his hair, again fingering his scar as he glared at the child. “You’re seriously bribing me? Where did you even get that much cash?” Hopefully it wasn’t stolen, but he’d applaud the boy for being so prolific in his thievery. 

“Not important.” The boy stated, pulling out a fourth twenty without breaking eye contact. 

Why was he being so persistent?! Any other child would have run away by now. 

“Why me?” He demanded, leaning forward, sneering in a way he knew made his eyes look even more creepy. “Why not bribe some other--”

The boy hesitated, a fifth twenty already in his fingers as his steely gazed wavered. “If I tell you why, will you go with me to the Aquarium?” 

That was hardly a fair exchange. The answer could be super simple and he’d be stuck with the kid for two hours. “I’m going to stick with my ‘I’m scary theory,’” Janus said instead, gesturing to his face. That was the usual reason kids gave in most circumstances. 

The boy frowned, lifting his chin. “I can be scary enough on my own without your help.” He said shoving the sleeve of his shirt up, revealing an angry red corded scar that wrapped around his arm from wrist to shoulder. “We match, kinda. Your scar looks similar. Makes it easier to pretend that you’re my Dad. That we were in the same accident.” He pushed the pile of money towards him. “And if anyone suspects you aren’t my birth father, then the sparks will show them that we’re on a Trial and that our scars mean we’re meant to be.” 

Meant to be. 

It took a lot of effort to not touch the crescent mark on his cheek. To ignore the fluttering in his chest at those words.

They’re just pretty little lies. 

Sure, there were ongoing theories that families all shared a similar trait that marked them. Whether that was having a mole on the same part of their stomach, sharing a taste in mustard, having an allergy to hay, hair having the same cowlick, or having similar looking scars--Janus kept his hands firmly on the table as he pulled his eyes back up to meet the kids. 

It was hearsay though. Nothing had ever been proven. Not when the sparks flaring between parent and child was a far more accurate indicator that they were meant to be a family. 

No, he highly doubted anyone would Flare with him during this five year tortrue period. Not even this kid despite the sparks dancing between them. 

Janus took a steadying breath. It was fine. He didn’t need a family. Not even a pretend one for two hours. He was better off alone now that Virgil had harred off to who knew where. “How long do I have to wait before you run out of twenties and give up?” He said, keeping his voice cool. “Because I’m not taking your bribe, kid, regardless of the amount. You’d be better off hiring a nanny or something.” 

Though he was curious just how much the boy thought it would take to convince him to go along with this farce. 

The kid made a face. “I don’t want to be coddled the entire time.” He snapped, the fifth twenty vanishing as he shoved his sleeve down. “All anyone ever does is treat me like I’m breakable since--” he gestured to his arm, the scars once more hidden. “And I’m sick of it. You look like you’d happily let me fall off a bridge if I wasn’t careful and I just...I just--” He shook his head. “I need to not be cared about for a bit.” 

Let him fall off a bridge? Ouch. Janus focused on relaxing his clenched hands, one finger at a time. “So you have a death wish? I’m not gonna be complacent to--”

The boy growled, slamming his hands on the table, steel grey eyes hardening even as they shimmered with unshed tears. “No. I just want to look at the fish.” He hissed. “I want to esplore. Learn. SEE. Without having a grown-up hovering over me like I’m freaking china. All you would have to do is stay near enough to keep any other metaling adults away. That’s all I want. For two hours. To be treated like a normal kid.” His hand clenched as he took a breath, bottom lip trembling. “I thought you of all people would understand that.” He whispered, eyes flickering to the scar and back.

It took a lot of effort to not touch his face. To maintain eye contact. 

Sure.

He understood. 

Janus had wasted years chasing that particular dream throughout high school and well into his first couple of years at college. 

It had all been for nothing. 

People judged the book by the cover. Few ever took the time to look deeper. 

And it sucked that Janus was being forced to reckon with the fact that if he didn’t go with this kid and pretend to be his Dad, he’d be like every other adult unwilling to give the boy a chance to be ‘normal.’  

…Great. Just. Great.  

He’d just been guilted into spending two hours looking at the fish. 

Janus broke eye contact, cursing under his breath as he shoved his papers into his book bag and stood, grabbing his jacket and hat off the chair. 

Maybe he should follow Virgil’s lead and disappear into the wilderness for the next four and a half years if the kids were going to start pulling this type of act on him. 

“You got a name, kid?” He asked, fishing out a single twenty from the stack before shoving the pile back at the boy. Enough for the ticket. That’s it. 

The boy caught his breath, eyes going wide. “You mean--”

How could eyes hard as steel one second go so soft like freshly fallen ash the next?

You know what. He didn’t want to know. If the kid knew how to do puppy dog eyes, then he knew how. That was that, but after today Janus would not be falling for them again.

“Name.” He repeated, impatiently gesturing for the boy to follow him as he tugged his hat down over his eyes. “Else I’ll make one up and I guarantee you will not like it.” 

The boy was by his side in a flash, golden sparks swirling. “Logan.” He said, adjusting his glasses with a small smile. “My name is Logan.”

[worstloki]

The Sylvie Show

this got a bit long so i'm putting it under a cut but basically it's episode summaries of what i would do if the loki show had sylvie as the main character instead, since I do think the plot of the show would be better suited to be focused around her rather than 2012 loki. I've tried to keep it so that a lot of existing canon shots/sets/scenes can be reused.

episode 1: the show opens up with young Sylvie on Asgard. The TVA appear and drag her towards a temportal. She wakes up from the apparent nightmare, gasping heavily. cue title card and cool music. a portal opens within a church, sylvie interrupts the man giving a talk on religion, questioning what he's saying with roundabout logic and being generally witty, even managing to incorporate giving a bar of gum she had in a pocket to a child sitting on an aisle seat who is really happy about it. the man is still coming up with an answer to what she said when the doors of the church are broken open and TVA agents start to file in. Sylvie says "about time," and proceeds to have fun slaying the unit and stealing a tempad. She picks up the charge on her way out, sending a blow kiss to the devil mural on the wall on her way out. cut to stepping out of a temportal, throwing the charge behind her over a shoulder (it lands on a mattress) and taking a heavy seat in front of a set of screens which show the inside of a mall. the cameras are mostly empty and where there are people it does not fascinate her (one of them shows someone reloading shelves). she scrutinizes the screens, drumming fingers on the table, but quickly sighs and pulls out her tempad: it flashes with low battery and she rolls her eyes, throwing it into a bin filled with likewise empty devices. she's about to get up when the cameras show a group of agents walking into the store. among them is one with a jacket reading VARIANT in bright orange. "Sh*t," she says, getting up and going to the mattress, rifling through a pile of clothes on the floor next to it "sh*t sh*t sh*t where is it". She pulls out a dark brown jacket, and the camera pans over to the screens again, where the VARIANT turns: it's Loki. A golden portal opens on the beige walls of the TVA, Hunter C-20 stepping through holding a man in 1940s army uniform by the arm and dragging him towards a desk. the man protests but she places a grenade on the counter and tells the deskworker to log it. "it wasn't a dummy," is the explanation she gives. In the background a single guard steps through a portal, looking around and proceeding to the doors out of this room. It's Sylvie, and she walks alone past other guards and rooms labelled Court and Memory Chamber. A group of people run past her saying a variant is loose and she walks faster. She walks past one court room, catching the words "trust me, you can smell the cologne of two Tony Starks," but continues looking around. An analyst (Mobius) rounds the corner in the direction of the court rooms and seems to be in a hurry, and Sylvie takes a sharp turn opening the closest door to her to avoid being seen. She is in a room with a Sacred Timeline screen, and zeroes in on the man closest to her, "what are you--" she places a hand over his mouth and pushes him down into his desk area behind his trolley, shushing him. "Do you know where the Reset Charge Storage Chambers are?" "Why?" *deep breath* *serious face on* "Tell me where the storaGE CHAMBer iS or I'll GUT YOU like a goAT!" "is that... like a fish?" *confusion* "how do you not know what a goat is?!" she spots a poster on the wall with a location guide and pushes Casey away with a hand to the face. "Nevermind." - We see Loki monologuing "the idea that your little club decides the fate of trillions of people across all of existence at the behest of three space lizards, yes, it's funny. It's absurd." an agent walks past in the background pushing a trolley but no attention is brought to it "I thought you didn't like to talk," mobius says. Sylvie pushes a door reading "Storage: Units" open, but looks and finds bodies in little cyro pod chambers lined up. "wrong door," she says, and pulls the trolley across the hall to the door reading "Storage: Charges." She's in a room with shelves filled up with reset charges, and opens the trolley drawer to find it already filled up with useless junk like infinity stones and such. to which she has no reaction. She shoves all that stuff to the side and out of the drawer, making space to

carefully place reset charges there. She individually picks up the two Tesseracts in it though and admires them, saying they're shiny and placing them on lower shelves in the room instead of on the floor. While she loads up the trolley ("a few more should do it") Loki walks past the door in full TVA outfit, happy and carrying a stack of papers that read RAGNAROK in bright red letters. She closes the drawer, takes her Hunter helmet off to shake out her hair and wipe sweat from her forehead, then puts it back on, pushing the trolley towards the door. Mobius has a hand at Loki's back, guiding him out of the Memory Chamber, Loki has clearly been crying and Mobius comforts him "it won't be so bad, you love being useful. and wearing suits." Sylvie walks past, pushing the trolley in the background. Sylvie continues down the hall, and when she sees no one behind or in front she pulls out her tempad and opens a portal, pushing her trolley and herself through. She's already gone and misses Classic Loki with a collar around his neck being escorted through the hall. - Sylvie and her trolley push through the portal and are in a mall, the lights dim and flickering above. Thunder is heard and lightning strikes as she places a reset charge on a shelf, flicking open a panel on it's side, and then walking a bit further and placing another. "May I help you?" a store employee asks, startling her. She considers. "Actually..." and places a hand to the person's temple - it takes a few seconds of effort but her fingertips glow green, and so does the person's eyes and temple, "don't mind if you do." She walks away from the trolley in a rush, and the store worker behind places a reset charge on a shelf. "I'm a bit short on time," she says to herself, pulling out her Tempad. Suspenseful music as the screen fades to black. - Everything cuts to a desert, with a small town in the background. A portal appears high up, and Loki falls from it to the ground. the words "twelve miles east of Puento Antiguo" appear on screen, and we see Loki formed a small crater in the ground, reminiscent of Mjolnir and the one in Stark Tower. "Ow," Loki says, taking the muzzle off with one hand, and then pulling the cuff chains off. The dust settles around him and he's still extricating himself from the hole in the ground and groaning about sand being irritating and getting everywhere when a golden portal opens up (we get a high shot, showing that Loki did indeed land within a larger crater too). Loki puts his hands in the air. "Appears to be a standard sequence violation. Branch is growing at a stable rate and slope. Variant identified." "Beg your pardon but I--" "On behalf of the Time Variance Authority, I hereby arrest you for crimes against the Sacred Timeline." "I didn't meddle with time, that would be the Avengers." "You're coming with us." *agents point pruners at him* "It's been a long day, I'm afraid you'll have to make me." *loki's hands start to glow green but B-15 presses a button, freezing him in place. Any sand blowing in the wind or any dust rising has also now stopped. There is a bird stuck mid-flight. B-15 pulls out a collar and places it around his neck. An agent places a reset charge on the ground and activates it, it starts to fizz purple. Time unfreezes and B-15 drags Loki going "hey!" through a temportal, and it closes, leaving the audience to watch a few seconds of the charge going off and the radius of the charge increasing, washing the ground in a bright neon-ish light.

Episode 2: this one is a combination of the Loki episodes 1 and 2. Basically, Loki goes on trial, the TVA has no reason he's committed a crime, but Mobius who had been at the church crime scene saves him and takes him to the memory chamber to break. What gets him to stop acting as if he actually wanted to rule all of space and whatnot is Mobius bringing up the topic of choice in Avengers 1, and asking if Loki knew the mind stone was effecting him too, along with him explicitly asking about the torture which happened before, even during - he pulls up footage - the invasion. Mobius pulls up footage of Frigga and Loki pickpockets the collar remote etc. everything else remains the same, including most of episode 2, with Sylvie fighting to "I need a hero" etc, but C-20 is left behind after being enchanted. When the TVA show up C-20 is tied up hastily in leather belts and rope. She's mostly out of it saying stuff like "it's real, it's all real" but she also says "we're variants, we're all variants" which Mobius obviously brushes over casually. Loki narrows his eyes though, and says stepping out of the renaissance fair tent would have them winding up dead like the agents scattered around here, B-15 calls bluff and Mobius says to wait but the people walking in front of the ones holding C-20 up to take her to the TVA for medical help fall dead upon stepping out. Loki was stalling for time with the wold anecdote, and doesn't tell how he knew the death thing would happen ("I see a scheme, and in that scheme I see myself" "bullsh*t" "it's true. my reflection looks quite good, too." "you *sshole." *he smiles softly, as if t'were a compliment*), and everyone gets back by opening portals from within the tent. The dots between the gum and the apocalypses is drawn, they see Pompeii, end up going to Roxxcart, where we see Sylvie watching the screens, now in her leather gear. B-15 and Loki split up together, the guy at the 'hurricane sale' placed a charge on the shelf but no attention is drawn to that bc Loki and 'Loki' are talking. Sylvie emphasizes that she holds a grudge because he's a traitor, specifically for working for the TVA because they're "condescending time fascists." Loki assures her he knows, and that he's seen the charges around the place. She comes to the realization that he's been undercover/faking. We're shown Mobius and co. finding the room with screens but it's just got Sylvie's random junk, nothing really useful. They talk some more, no physical fighting but the vessel sizes get bigger and Loki calls it 'real mature'. While they still disagree on what to do with the Time Lizards (destroy or overthrow) Sylvie settles on leaving the portal open for him at the end and giving him a chance. She waits for him to go through first, with Loki looking back at Mobius meaningfully determined and then walking through.

Episode 3: Young sylvie is going through the stripping/signing/temporal aura process. She's sent into the court room. she bites and runs out of the room, putting distance before fiddling with the tempad she took, figuring it out, while Renslayer gets stuck answering the Judge. Sylvie appears back on Asgard, but there's already a Sylvie there playing with her toys. a TVA portal opens and she presses another "Asgard" on the device to escape quickly. "I just want to go home," she says to herself, appearing in the same room, but the child is a bit older (a teen?) and a boy and black and reading instead of playing but he's clearly also in green/gold and a loki. the kid turns after hearing her and she panicks and goes through another portal. another one with adult loki in the same room, she looks hopeful as if she could ask for help but then sif walks in with insults and slaps him but spots her. "who's the kid," sif asks and a portal opens up next to her. Agents step through and Sif punches one that does, asking Loki what trick this is now. Sif/Loki fight them while they're still coming through, sylvie presses another asgard but sees a knocked out agent has a tempad on his belt and takes it before running again. no loki in the room, it's empty, but a group of people rush across, talking hurriedly about 'the goddess of death' and 'odin's real heir' and 'thor and loki dead' and 'seeking refuge in the moutains.' Sylvie looks lost. Cue titlecard and cool music. They step into the TVA. Sylvie is determined, telling Loki to hurry because they won't have much time the TVA remains in disarray from the reset charges everywhere, but stops when he says he needs to get a weapon. "Why didn't you use magic to get some earlier," she asks. "Spares," he smiles, "magic doesn't work here after all." Sylvie notes that it explains her last attempts to infiltrate failing so badly. They fight some guards together on the way to the elevator rather than fighting each other. The elevator to the time keepers opens but Renslayer and a bunch of guards are in it waiting. Sylvie grabs Loki and tries to use him as a bargaining tool. Doesn't work, obviously, and Sylvie is shaken upon coming face to face with the same Hunter who had caught her as a kid, she doesn't react in time to stop Loki taking her tempad and dropping them somewhere. Same plot from here, the two of them fighting over the tempad, with Sylvie wanting to go back and Loki telling her they clearly already failed and she should explain what's going on first. She says she doesn't need to and if he wants to help defeat the TVA he needs to trust her and give the tempad back. He makes it vanish and she gets frustrated, asking if he gives up on everything that easily, and maybe that's why he's the first Loki she's seen working with the TVA. Etc. They need a power source anyway and get to the train hoping it'll lead to the ship that won't get off-planet anyway. Loki acts a fool Sylvie naps, wakes up to singing. Sylvie calls him out for not actually being drunk and also he downs a glass and offers her one, and when Sylvie asks how he's paying for it he says it's on the house and points to the barkeeper (male. we're implying/showing flirting. maybe a wink at him or a cute wave.). It's blatantly clear he's trying to get info on her backstory along the way and she's not falling for it but allowing him to know a bit of stuff. (eg. "I know everything is watered down ale for an Asgardian," "watered-down watered-down, more like. But you know of Asgard? Do go on...") She softens at hearing his backstory, and shares hers too. The people appear and ask to see their tickets, everything is the same from here forward. The episode ends with them watching the ship getting destroyed.

Episode 4: different music when sylvie and loki look into each others eyes since i didn't like that. cue titlecard and song after the TVA portals open on Lamentis. this episode remains the same mostly with Sylvie and Mobius driving the plot. No narcissist comment but Mobius gets to act jelly of what Sylvie and Loki have going on. Instead of it just being a bad memory loop with Sif we get her three times and then it alternates to Thor who is also angry. If he's not already down Thor will punch him (even though Loki is just happy to see him bc he didn't think he'd see him again--) and then tell him to hold still so it'll hurt less. It's framed as bad and Thor will imply it's only a fitting punishment. Thor is only shown twice, the first time the scene cuts at Loki being hit and held down, the second is Thor leaving the room, chuckling about how Loki didn't need to talk to anyone anyway bc he's alone, says he'll heal soon anyway. Loki isn't shown, but Thor's fingers have blood on them where they hold mjolnir. the loop resets and Loki is back to standing in the middle of the room and ghosts a hand over his mouth and then Mobius arrives. Loki calls the repeated memory boring and cruel, says he hates when Thor is drunk and feeling rash, with Mobius saying at least he didn't send him to Thanos or something and gave his crotch a break. Sylvie asks what her nexus event was and Renslayer doesn't remember. The end of the episode is the same, with Sylvie 1v1-ing Renslayer and beheading a Time Keeper, Loki getting pruned. The credit scene remains the same.

[playlistmusings]

Everyone knows you're the way to my heart (Chapter 2)

(1) Prologue (2) Yelled down the hall, but nobody answered (3) Always surprised by what I'd do for love, Some things I'll never expect (4) But I feel something when I see you now (5) And I've never seen you smiling so big

Chapter 2- Yelled down the hall, but nobody answered

Jude was sick of Cardan. She was sick of being his puppet-master, she was sick of making clever commands for him to follow, sick of ruling in his stead and getting none of the credit. She was tired and angry and anxious for all sorts of reasons but she knew that nothing, nothing, could ever evoke the intense emotions that a single thought of Cardan could. He was insufferable and irresponsible and so many other things that it made Jude want to rip her hair out or push a knife through his chest-- that is if she could even find him. Because, of course, right when things were looking up-- advisors treating her like a person and not a schoolgirl, tensions between Elfame and other lands finally starting to diminish, getting full nights of sleep-- Cardan started disappearing. It's not like Jude even cared where he was-- probably off with a group of pretty faeries having the time of his life, she thought with a painful twist in her gut before reminding herself that she didn't care what (or who, her mind provided, unhelpfully) he did-- it was that he was always disappearing when she needed to brief him before a meeting or get him to sign important documents. And she could never find him. It always ended with Jude giving up and going to the meeting without him or winding her way to his chambers to leave parchments scattered on a side table with a quill and ink next to them.

It was awful. Jude had been struggling to get him to listen to her when she told him to just cooperate. And even if she wanted to take the easy way out and just order Cardan to do his work, she would have to be able to find him first. She couldn't think of any solutions to her problem, except perhaps to order him to stay with her all the time. That however, wouldn't even work when she thought it through. After all, even if all of Elfhame thought she was his closest advisor, it would be suspicious if he never left her side. And besides, even if she could justify potentially putting her whole plan at risk by ordering him to something that gave her so much control, the thought of spending one day-- much less months-- with Cardan practically shackled to her was already making her miserable. So, she suffered his disappearing acts and hoped beyond measure that he would grow bored of his childish antics sooner rather than later.

The most infuriating things by far were the ones like now, where Jude had spent hours walking through corridors searching for Cardan and finally found him when she gave up and went to the Court of Shadows-- the place that she had first looked. He was leisurely propped on a chair by the table, drinking some sort of potent wine, while speaking to the Roach, laughing and looking far too comfortable for someone who was supposed to be signing important documents at the moment. And of course, Cardan didn't even have the piece of mind to look apologetic when Jude narrowed his eyes at him and called him all sorts of names under her breath before throwing a stack of paper at his chest.

As Jude left Cardan at the table, where he was now fumbling to pick the papers up from where they fluttered around him on the floor, the Roach stood to follow her into the training room. Knowing what was coming, the Roach stood off to the side of the room while Jude breathed deeply to try to calm her mind, before giving up and unsheathing Nightfell and slashing a practice dummy in half.

"Stupid Cardan and his stupid wandering and stupid inability to do anything that could be interpreted as helpful." Jude punctuated every phrase with another hit to the bottom half of the dummy that remained standing.

The Roach stood, arms crossed, leaning against the wall, watching Jude slaughter the dummy, before Jude spun to face him.

With Nightfell pointed dangerously close to his neck and a viscous glint in her eyes Jude yelled, "What do you even want?  Don't you have better things to do than to just stand there and stare?  Weren't you too busy laughing and drinking with Cardan to even tell me where he was?"

The Roach simply pushed himself off the wall to say, with a calm tone that only frustrated Jude even more, "Why does Cardan disappearing even bother you? It's not like he's going out and getting hurt or actually missing meetings?"

Jude hated him for asking that. In some part of her mind she knew she was only angry because she had been asking herself those same questions for days now and couldn't find any answer that didn't frustrate or confuse her. But instead of voicing any of this or showing vulnerability, Jude lowered Nightfell and sighed, "Because I need to work, because he needs to work, and if I can't even find him then how can either of us keep this place running?"

Later, with the gift of hindsight, Jude would note that the Roach's eyes had lit up in some terrifying way at these words, as if she had fallen into some brilliant trap, but in the moment she couldn't even bring herself to notice the slight upturning of his lips, her mind filled with frustration and anger.

"You just want to be able to know where he is? That's it?"

Jude nodded at the Roach's words, "I mean, if I could just find him when I needed to, then it would solve about ninety percent of my problems."

"Well, lucky for you, my dear, I have the perfect thing. I just found--" (stole, Jude filled in) "-- it yesterday." He pulled one of the pendants looped on a chain from a pocket.

Jude eyed it wearily, trying to think despite the fog of anger that had clouded her rational thought all day. On one hand, Jude was constantly aware that gifts from faeries were dangerous, especially if you didn’t know who made it or its purpose. But on another hand, Jude was fed up and tired of having to find all the solutions herself, and here the Roach was, someone who Jude trusted with more than her life, giving her an easy answer. So before she could think through rash actions she snatched the chain and asked "How does it work?"

"It should get warmer as he nears. But it only--" Before she heard the Roach's warning, Jude was out of the training room, stalking past Cardan where he sat signing documents at the table, satisfied that she finally solved a problem. As Jude walked back to her room, she slipped the necklace over her head while thinking about falling into bed and dreaming of days that didn't include searching for Cardan-- and definitely did not include the stupid way her stomach fluttered when she heard him laughing when she had found him today. 

tag list:

@jurdanhell @yourlocalautisticoverlord

[ghostmartyr]

SnK 133 Thoughts

They’re trying to stop the apocalypse but they’re dummy traumatized and the clap of their sins keeps alerting the glow tree.

Kids, just remember: Body count doesn’t matter, it’s how you feel while producing that body count. If you’ve killed people to stop genocide, you are not immune to being party to genocide. ⭑⭒⋆

I’m being reductive because I’m not too eager to go over how not all murder is created equal again.

Going by a good faith read, I do think what the narrative is attempting to establish is that these characters all know what it’s like to be backed into a corner and do desperate things they’re horrified by.

Putting aside the extra psychological difficulties of his childhood preceding the choice to knock down the wall, Reiner believes he’s saving humanity. There’s an island full of devils, and he’s attacking them. He, Bertolt, and Annie are dumb kids who do what they’re told. Because they think it’s right, or because they want to go home, or just because they are dumb kids.

Armin’s killed plenty of people with the power of the Colossus. He can’t plead innocence; he attacks Liberio’s port intentionally, knowing exactly what terror the people on the ground will be going through.

Connie kills the friends he’s trained with for years, when the worst thing about Reiner and Bertolt revealing themselves is feeling betrayed by comrades he loves.

None of this is directly equivalent. Dumb children at war are trying their best. Always, this conflict has been orchestrated above their pay grade. RAB get abandoned behind enemy lines and are told to make the best of it. Armin destroys Marley’s port because Marley will not stop going after Paradis, and Eren has forced a renewed conflict that they need to move against fast. Connie betrays his friends because they’re okay with letting the rest of the world die.

No one on this ship has enjoyed any of this. They have consistently been doing their best with the information given to them while people with more power drag them into fights that never should have happened.

Shiganshina falls because Marley chooses to murder Paradis.

Liberio falls because Eren turns himself into Paradis’ only hope and puts himself into a situation he can’t win alone.

In the crudest way of putting it, these people are grunts. They’re not the ones who picked the game being played. They’re the ones being manipulated into war after war.

That’s why they look at each other without counting the bodies. It isn’t the scale of their actions that hits at this moment, it’s the decisions they’ve made to be part of it. They choose to keep fighting. When it creates an outcome they hate, what can they say? ‘Look what you made me do’?

Whatever their reasons, and whoever set up the board, they are the ones who participate. In this case, pure moral imperative is the driving force. Daz and Samuel die because they’re willing to let genocide go uncontested. That’s on them.

Guilt doesn’t work like that, though. Daz and Samuel die because they are killed. Connie kills them. He betrays their trust.

All of this is to say that the people on the ship truly do understand each other perfectly, even despite the difference in scale. It’s a bit on the nose, but I don’t think anything they’re going through is at odds with the people they are.

Applying that feeling to Eren is a feat of misguided grace that... hell, I don’t know.

As a human person, I like grace as a concept and want more of it. I don’t want the world to burn, I want the burning to stop, and for everyone to be okay in the end even if they don’t deserve it. A world where we all get precisely what we deserve seems an incredibly dark place to me. That doesn’t leave room for mercy or kindness. You get what you earn, and nothing more.

The more time we spend on this portion of the story, the more I’m inclined to think that the themes agree with me. Our heroes at this point aren’t full of the rage they’re entitled to. Every inch of them is tired, and they’re not here for more death. They’re willing to keep going, but even the thought of killing Eren, when he’s massacred thousands, makes them all hesitate.

Everyone wants to go home and have the fighting stop.

That’s all.

Whatever happened, and whose fault it is -- forget all of it, just give them a place to rest and have it be over.

Thematically, yay. I approve. Beautiful. We start out with a series that makes a name for itself almost entirely on the back of the spectacle of violence, and after years of participating in that violence, the main cast wants nothing to do with it anymore. Love it.

Within the plot, I am not in the mood to have Eren’s traumatized friends apologize for not understanding him.

I get it.

I get why they all feel this way.

I do not like reading it.

They’re projecting their own guilt on someone who has shown a reckless disregard for their lives and sanity.

They’re trying to reach Eren as a human being and friend when he’s done his absolute best to make himself unreachable.

That’s sort of the point Reiner thinks is being made. Eren has intentionally set them up as his adversary so that if he has to be doing all of this, maybe there’s still a chance someone can stop him.

Okay, fine.

It falls short for the same reason all of Eren’s stuff is falling short.

We don’t actually know what the fuck is going on with him. We’re guessing.

You know those picture puzzles you do as a kid? Draw a line from bubble 1 to bubble 2 to bubble 3, and eventually you will make a bunny. Or a dog, or flowers, or something that looks like a picture in the sloppy mess of numbers.

Eren’s general portrayal matches that of a toddler who doesn’t yet know his numbers, and understands the instructions to be that he’s trying to get to the last bubble by scribbling lines through all the other bubbles.

Look, it’s a bunny.

And Eren’s friends are all like, oh wow, that’s such a good job! We’re going to put it on the fridge!

Then people come over and are like, why is there a constellation of a deer jumping through a house on the fridge, but they hear the child did it and immediately are like, oh yeah, that’s the best bunny I’ve ever seen, I can’t draw like that.

The child, being a child, is like, ‘Damn right. I’m going to be in bunny museums.’

Meanwhile, I’m just going to come out and say it.

It’s not a fucking bunny.

What it is, I don’t know, but it is not a bunny, stop calling it a bunny, it is actively erasing the knowledge of what a bunny looks like in my mind.

So ends this skit on what Eren’s portrayal has been like.

Eren has decided that this is all necessary. He doesn’t like it, and wants someone to stop him, but he is totally going to do it, and he knows he’s going to do it because future vision told him so and he’s really sad about that even though he’s emotionally in a place where genocide sounds like the only way out but that is wrong.

I think I’ve said before that Eren getting to this place mentally isn’t too off the rails. His sanity has been deteriorating with each mission, and he’s nineteen. Snapping like this could arguably be expected.

But the last we see of Eren’s thoughts, we still have this back and forth of how he refuses to yield the future to fate, but he already feels condemned by that future because he chooses to cause it.

Eren is clearly trapped by this web of contradictions, but his motivational core is so obstructed that it’s hard to actually connect to. It is easier to say that Eren’s gone off the deep end than it is to spend any amount of time asking how Point A became Point 3.

That’s frustrating, as a reader. I don’t want to be told a story, I want to experience it.

Eren’s experiences are not universal.

I need some hand-holding here. There needs to be a few more clear indications of Eren The Person, and how the individual we know wrapped around to making these choices.

Hooray, he’s not taking away their powers.

The guy he let run his cult still nearly killed all of them.

Hooray, he’s protecting his island.

He just actively courted an international incident so everyone wants the island dead.

Yes, Eren thinks that hope is lost before he makes these choices. That’s how moving forward drags him to this place; he doesn’t have the vision to imagine a world where this isn’t happening.

If you don’t fight, you can’t win, and Eren’s still fighting. But he’s forgotten what winning looks like. All he knows is the dreary march forward.

I would like for that to be explicit, not me extrapolating. Because even as I’m typing all of that, and feeling like it makes sense, it has the confidence of tissue paper, and I know my numbers, but half the numbers making this bunny were missing, and I’m not an artist.

The story I’m digging around here for is one I could like, but I don’t trust that it’s actually the one being told, because too much feels unexplained and weird. You can’t just make your main character nuts and use that as an excuse for anything.

Well, okay, you can.

You shouldn’t.

Please don’t do that.

Which I guess leads us to Eren and OG Ymir doing a Shining twins thing.

Here is my wild speculation.

The Attack Titan is the only Titan capable of resisting the Founder. It cannot be controlled, it simply continues forward, fighting for freedom.

When Eren talks to Ymir, her eyes losing their shadows are the cue for him taking full control of the Founder.

Now we’re back here, and her eyes are shadowed again, with Eren’s joining the ride.

I think that where we’re going to end up is that Eren’s mental fragility made him incredibly susceptible to the Attack Titan’s core nature, and enough of that nature aligned with Eren’s that everything except pursuing a way forward fell away. The Attack Titan is Ymir’s furious will, and she’s had it suppressed for 2000 years. I don’t think either one is emotionally capable of surfacing and deciding to resist the urge to march forward and destroy this world that has cursed them so.

Making my theory that yeah, okay, Eren’s lost it, but he lost it with the help of ancient plot magic, which we are now seeing the full extent of.

Does that have any basis in anything?

Who the fuck knows.

But one thing is very clear: Eren’s not free.

“In order to gain my own freedom... I will take freedom away from the world. [...] You are all free.”

The Attack Titan “has always moved ahead, seeking freedom. It has fought on for freedom.”

Eren, embodiment of the Attack Titan, is the first one to hear Ymir in 2000 years. Going with the vaguely logical theory that Titans are all pieces of Ymir herself, the Attack Titan is the part that rebels against every indignity she bows to in life.

Zeke frees the Founder from its promise of peace. Eren frees Ymir from the chains tying her to the royal family’s will.

All that’s left is 2000 years of trauma, and the ability and will, for the first time, to lash out.

It’s not what you’d call surprising.

It’s the getting here that I take issue with. Now that we’re here, yeah, got it. But I really don’t feel like Eren’s journey here has been done well enough to capture the emotional rawness that is trying to be accessed. His friends are shouting for someone who is effectively dead, for all the presence he’s showing.

Then you’ve got Annie and Kiyomi sad.

ON A BOAT.

While Falco wants to be a Titan with WIIIIIIIIIIINGS.

Kiddos, you’re very cute, and I support you not wanting to sit still and do nothing while the world is ending, but I can’t begin to express how little I care.

Except that your families are alive and you two and Annie deserve to be reunited.

SO FINE, OKAY, FALCO CAN HAVE HIS WINGS AND SAY HI TO HIS PARENTS AND GABI CAN SAY HI TO HER PARENTS AND ANNIE CAN SAY HI TO HER DAD AND IT’LL ALL BE FINE DOES ANYONE KNOW WHAT THE FUCK WE’RE GOING TO DO ABOUT EREN?

BECAUSE YEAH, I’M SURE THE AIRSHIPS ARE JUST GOING TO SPLODE HIM AND END ALL OF THIS AND EVERYONE WILL HOLD HANDS AND SING SONGS THAT THE EVIL HAS BEEN DEFEATED AND THAT WILL BE THE END OF IT.

Conversation: FAILED

Attack: probably FAILED

GO AHEAD, MANGA. SHOW ME THE DEUS EX MACHINA. I’M NOT GOING TO LIKE IT, BUT I AM PREPARED FOR IT.

inb4 yeah they just are going to bomb Eren with Armin that’s how we end this.

133 status: Still Looking For A Win Condition (This Ain’t It Chief)

[naerysthelonesome]

Time spent together

Just a bunch of 3am coffee-induced Litpollo fics (they’re all related)

Part 1

College AU

Lit (Lityerses. Poor boy) is staring at Apollo, the tall, tan, lean but muscular, paragon of beauty with the most beautifully sculpted face I’ve ever seen (And believe me I’ve seen plenty), who’s currently shooting hoops in the basketball court. Off to the side, giving him pointers he does not need, is the smart-ass, Annabeth Chase. All right! Maybe I’m being a little harsh, but I’m really only here to talk about Lit and Apollo.

Oh look! Apollo’s attempting a backward jump shot.

Whatever. I’m sure he succeeds. The boy just cannot miss.

Let’s get back to Lit, shall we?

Of course. OF COURSE the angsty gay boy, with absolutely no social skills, falls for the gorgeous jock with a reputation for dazzling smiles, and leaving behind a trail of broken hearts.

May they can both bond over having the two most ridiculous names on campus.

If only I could tell Lit he looks ridiculous with his jaw hanging open like that. If only I could tell him that his being distracted by Apollo has put him in the path of that idiot Percy and his skateboard. Alas, I am only the narrator.

Percy crashes right into Lit, and they both tumble onto the ground like the pin-heads they are.

At least that caught the attention of the two blondes that caused this. They both jog over, Apollo letting out a short bark of laughter and Annabeth looking slightly concerned.

“Y’all okay?” the boy asks, standing over the two dark-haired dummies, shining like an angel and looking more picturesque than ever with the sun behind him.

“I- uh- Yeah”, Lit sputters. Of course he sputters. It’s quite understandable, honestly. At least he accepts the thinly veined, corded arm Apollo’s graciously reached out toward him.

“Percy! How many times have I told you to please watch where you’re going?” Annabeth asks exasperatedly. Percy does have quite a hit list.

“How can I look at anything but you, when you make it a point to look as gorgeous as that”, he says cheesily, gesturing up at her from the ground.

That draws a reluctant grin out of the girl.

“Oh shut up Perce!” she say, then turns to Lit, NOT graciously reaching an arm out to Percy.

“Sorry about that. My boyfriend’s a ditz”

“Yeah sorry”, Percy says standing up and grinning, “My girlfriend’s way to distracting for me not to be”.

I’m gonna throw up. Or at least I would, if I had a physical body.

“You are okay though, right?” Percy says to poor Lit, who’s been subjected to this disgusting gooeyness.

“Oh. Yeah yeah”, He says, now brushing gravel off his pants, “All good here”.

Annabeth mumbles something to Percy about getting late to class and they rush off. I really couldn’t care less.

Except.

This leaves Lit alone with Apollo.

Finally. They need to start talking. Like NOW. I can’t handle them throwing more furtive glances toward each other, and neither of the oblivious oglers picking up on any of it. IT’S BEEN TORTURE. (I should know. I’ve been tortured before.

“Oh! But how, Great narrator?!” you ask, “If you have no body?”

Well if you had any idea of the rules of etiquette, you’d know that that’s an incredibly rude question to ask. Therefore, we will be moving on)

Oh My God (not that I have one)! They’re talking! Now look what you’ve made me do. I’ve missed part of their conversation!

“Of course I like literature”, Lit says with a scoff, as if it’s obvious.

“All right all right”, Apollo relents, and then after a pause, “Can I walk you to class at least?”

“Oh” Is all the Lit the love-struck fool can say.

“Oh come on”, the golden boy say, grabbing Lit by the arm and hauling him in the direction of the west wing.

“Wait dumbass. I gotta get my books first!” he says pulling away from Apollo.

He runs a hand through his curls, and a blush creeps up Apollo’s slender neck. Of course, Lit doesn’t notice. It’s like they’re trying not to see the tell-tale signs of fist love!

“Just wait here a second, and I’ll fetch them”, Lit says and dashes away without waiting for a response.

Apollo’s hands find their way into his pockets, as he schools his face into bearing a nonchalant expression. Oy.

There’s students milling about, gossiping and trading notes. It’s a fine summer morning. The wind is whistling through the big birch tree, and blowing through the hair of the two girls kissing under it. Oh look! There’s a lone grasshopper…

Well this is boring. How do other narrators do it? Where on Earth is Lit?!

Ah finally. Here he comes, three large books in his arms. The collar of his shirt is wet, and his face looks considerably less splotchy. Well that explains why he took so long.

“Three books? For English lit?” Apollo asks, his arms completely devoid of books, or any other classroom material.

“I get bored”, Lit shrugs as if that explains everything.

So English lit must’ve been what they were discussing before. Unless they were exchanging famous quotes of love and desire from popular classics, which I highly doubt, that was a boring fist conversation.

Ah well. They can make up for it later.

Our journey through the green and into the classroom is entirely uneventful. I would’ve thought Apollo, being the confident social butterfly he is, would have at least struck up a conversation with Lit, but apparently feelings get in the way of such things.

How tiresome.

“Settle down. Settle down”, the woman at the front of the class says, sharply rapping her knuckles against the desk. Her name escapes me…

Anyway, Lit and Apollo make their way to seats as far away from each other as they can manage, both looking slightly disappointed when the other doesn’t stop them. Dorks.

“Now as I mentioned last week, I will be assigning each of you a project partner. I expect you to put in equal effort and come up with creative and suitably appropriate papers”, Ms. Teach says, picking up a list of names. No, that’s not her real name. I wish it was. It would’ve been suitably appropriate.

She rattles off some names. Someone complains. She patiently listens to their complaint and comes back with a refusal. The student angrily flops into his seat, waking up the peacefully snoring person beside him. They glare at him, then at the class and Ms. Rap-knuckles. No one pays them any mind.

Lit listens intently and Apollo pretends not to. There’s a bee merrily buzzing around the classroom. It bangs against a window, then bangs itself against the window again. Interesting. I think I need coffee. I can’t drink any but it sure does smell good…

“Apollo and Lityerses”.

Oh. Now this is a great turn of events!

“Seems fitting”, Ms. Good-at-student-pairing says, with a slight smirk.

Lit looks surprised and angry all at once, his face flushed. Apollo looks like he’s trying really hard not to care, but his mouth is threatening to betray him and reveal his, already quite clear, happiness.

The teacher continues to pair off students, as Lit stares furiously at his book, as if he’s trying to ignite the pages. Apollo looks at his nails, then at Lit, then back at his nails.

A half hour later the bell, blessedly, rings. Lit’s hurriedly making his way to the door.

But why?? He’s going to have to spend time with Apollo anyway!

Oh good, Apollo’s caught his arm.

“Hey we should talk about the project”, he says.

“What’s there to talk about?” Lit replies.

Um… is his crush’s presence causing his brain to malfunction?? I wouldn’t really be surprised if that were the case, consider that his crush is the magnificent Apollo.

“You know… Where we’re gonna do the project, what topic we’re going to pick, et cetera”, the blond says slowly, as if he’s worried about the same thing.

“It’s fine. You don’t have to worry about it. You go shoot hopes, or dazzle people, or whatever it is you do, and I’ll finish the project. I’m not great at working with people anyway. You’ll get your credit”.

Apollo looks high-key offended for a second, but then laughs.

“Is that all you think of me Lit?” he says, “That I’m just some dumb blond jock trope?”

“‘Mythological retellings’ is one of my favorite topics to read about, so that’s the one we’re choosing for our project”, Apollo continues decidedly.

“What? You don’t get to pick the topic by yourself”, Lit snaps at him.

“Why not? What’s wrong with it? Too challenging for you?” Apollo says, smirk gracing his perfect lips.

Everybody here who knows Lit knows he can’t help but rise to a challenge. Now the topic’s practically set in stone.

“Of course not.” Lit says, resentful but stubborn, “Fine then. When do we begin?”

Apollo smiles wide this time, and I can see the blush creeping up Lit’s neck.

“Meet me at the coffee shop just off campus. 3p.m. Right after class”.

[collabwithmyself]

1-2: Turnabout Transaction (2/2)

Miles hadn't meant to blurt out his trump card. He was stressed and cranky from the trial, and being face to face with the man that had happily ruined the life of a friend of his, had ruined the lives of so many people, had filled him with an indescribable anger that made him shout exactly the wrong thing in an effort to wipe that awful, disgusting smirk off White's face.

Now he was in the detention center on the wrong side of the glass, nursing a black eye that nobody had bothered to treat him for. Maya looked extremely disappointed in him... or at least, it seemed like she did. His glasses had broken upon the impact of White's fist against his face, and their remains had been left behind in the scum's tacky office.

"Do you realize how stupid that was, My?!"

"I'm well aware, I didn't--" Miles paused. "My?"

"Now what are you gonna do? Don't tell me this was your big plan to get me out of jail all along!" Maya thumped one fist against the glass.

"Miss-- Maya, it wasn't my intention to get assaulted or arrested. I certainly do not plan to take this turn of events lying down."

"You better not!" she shouted. She sniffled, and Miles suddenly realized she must be on the verge of tears. "I can't lose you too, okay, you dummy?"

"You... barely even know me..."

"But you stuck it out for me! Sis's killer is still out there, so... so... so you better not give up now, alright?!"

A weak chuckle escaped him. "I wouldn't dream of it."

⁂

But despite his most valiant efforts, everything seemed to be slipping through his fingers like sand. He'd almost had White cornered, could hear the panicked edge in von Karma's voice as she attempted to salvage the situation, but unless he could prove White had been there the day of the crime, it was all for nothing.

He squinted frantically at his notes, at the collection of evidence he had, but nothing was coming into focus. Maya had fallen silent beside him, perhaps sensing the inevitable defeat that was bearing down on him with all the force of a freight train.

"I... I apologize," he whispered to his companion. "It seems I wasn't enough, after all."

"Hey, shut up, Miles," came a voice from beside him that was most certainly not Maya's. He gave a start, then narrowed his eyes at the figure next to him. Taller than him, with arms folded... they had dark hair like Maya, and those robes looked like hers, but this couldn't be Maya. Could it?

"Think, Miles," they urged him, and the sense of deja vu that had been plaguing him since he stepped into court suddenly intensified. "What is it you need?"

His mouth felt dry. For some reason, he didn't feel as though he needed to be concerned about the identity of this stranger. "Pr... Proof White was in Mia's office the day of the murder."

"Alright, what proof is that?"

"I don't know."

"Are you sure you've checked everything?"

"I'd very much like to," he snapped, frustration mounting, "but I can't see."

"What?" The figure leaned towards him. "What happened to your eye? What did you do to your glasses, you dingbat?"

"A-Are you going to help me or not?" He bristled at the overly familiar tone they were taking with him.

They sighed and reached over to start rummaging through his papers, bringing up the small sheet with Maya's name on it in blood.

"That doesn't prove he was there," he sighed forlornly.

"Yeah, it does." They turned it over. Miles leaned in, squinting as hard as he could. There was something printed on the other side, but he couldn't make it out.

"...I can't read this."

"Seriously, what happened to your glasses?"

"Just tell me what it says!"

"It's a receipt for that lamp in the office. You know, the one White broke beyond all recognition?"

"Yes, but he claims he saw it when he placed the wiretap a week before the murder."

"Aha. But this receipt is from the day before the murder."

Miles felt the cogs in his head shudder and suddenly start rolling again. He snatched the receipt from his savior's hand, thrusting out his arm frantically.

"HOLD IT!"

Things got messy after that. White tried to squirm his way out of it, and it almost looked like it'd work, but then the person next to him started saying names.

Names he knew.

Names only two other people would know, and one of them was on the witness stand.

Ignoring White's howling and von Karma's choking, he stared, uncomprehending, at the person beside him.

"Mia?"

"What? You--" The figure turned to him, and he distantly registered White sobbing. All of a sudden, the voice seemed so much more familiar. "Miles! Seriously! Where are your glasses?"

"Ah," he mumbled, and his vision darkened around the edges. "I think I'm going to pass out now."

And, presumably, he did.

⁂

When he came to, he almost expected the harsh smell of disinfectant and the steady beep of a heart monitor. Instead, he heard voices he faintly recognized, and registered that he was lying on a very uncomfortable seat.

He groaned and sat up, clutching his head as he attempted to get his bearings. "What..."

"Geez, My, your uncle says you passed right out!" came Maya's voice from somewhere nearby.

"Wh... Ray's...?"

"Don't act so surprised, buddy, I told you I was gonna be there for you today. Your little friend here just beat me to the punch for co-counsel."

"Maya's not even a registered paralegal," Miles managed to say as the world came back into focus - well, as much as it could with his glasses gone.

"Well, yeah, but I couldn't say no to that face." Ray chuckled.

"Did... did we win?"

"Yeah! You're not guilty!" Maya cheered.

"And Mr. White's been arrested," his uncle added, sounding proud. "Good work. Your dad would be impressed."

"I..." It all came back to him in a rush, and he leaned back. "...couldn't have done it without Mia."

Ray made a confused noise, but there was a clapping sound from Maya's general direction. "So it did work!"

"Huh? What worked, kiddo?"

"The channeling! I channeled Sis! I helped!"

"You what," Miles said.

"You know we come from a family of spirit mediums, don't you, My?"

"I... yes, but I didn't actually..."

"You are so dumb."

When he managed to pick his jaw up off the floor from that revelation and get to his feet, Ray pushed two things into his hands. One he recognized as his spare glasses, large and clunky. The other was, upon close examination, a key with a figurine attached to it via a chain.

Miles squinted. "Is... is this the Steel Samurai?"

"Hey!" Maya piped up. "That's my spare key! How come you have it?"

"Good question." He slipped the square frames on, frowning when he realized they were slightly small on him. Still, it was a marked improvement for his vision, and he was able to see his uncle shrug.

"Beats me. The lady told me to give it to you."

"Why would Mia give you my key?" Maya mused.

"Perhaps there's something at her office she wants me to see...?"

⁂

But a trip to the office revealed no new information. It was completely clean, like nothing had happened at all, but Miles still felt a chill when he stepped inside.

Maya knelt by the potted plant in the corner, examining it closely. "At least Charley survived," she sighed wistfully.

"Charley?" Miles repeated, wrinkling his nose in confusion. "You named the plant?"

"Hey, Charley is a valuable member of this office," Maya insisted very seriously. After a moment, though, her face fell. "Although he's not gonna be able to work here anymore with Mia gone, huh."

Miles's heart sank. "She worked so hard to secure this place for herself," he murmured.

"I know. And... and now we gotta clear it out, 'cause there's nobody to run the place." Maya was sniffling again. He hated that the sound was becoming familiar.

He searched desperately for something to say, but could only come up with a subdued apology.

"S'not your fault she's dead," Maya said, shaking her head.

Well, in a rather convoluted way, it sort of was, but he didn't want to get into that. Instead, he looked at the key Mia had chosen to entrust to him. The worn metal glinted at him like an SOS signal, and beside it, the Steel Samurai nestled into his palm as though it belonged there.

Why did Mia want him to have this when it didn't even belong to her?

He looked from his open palm to Maya, knelt by Charley the plant, and for a moment he swore he could see a glowing thread connecting the two. He stiffened and gasped as the answer struck him like lightning.

"Eureka," he blurted, before he could stop himself.

Maya looked at him and started giggling. "What did you just say?"

"Ngh--" Ignoring his rising blush, he cleared his throat. "I... I think Mia wanted me to look after the office. And after you."

He was not expecting a snort from Maya. "Oh, please. If anything, I've gotta look after you! You're a total disaster, My!"

Miles felt himself flush with indignation. "You are seventeen years old!"

"Yeah, but I didn't get punched because I accused somebody of murder with no one else around!"

"Nngh..."

"Face it, My, you need my help!" Maya had her hands on her hips, a confident grin on her face. "If you're gonna earn the money to keep this place, you gotta listen to everything I say!"

"I never agreed to--"

"First order of business is celebrating!" Maya grabbed his free hand, and with surprising strength for someone so small, she began dragging him towards the door. "There's this great burger joint just down the street Sis used to take me to whenever I came down to visit--"

"Wh-What?!" he squawked "Where do you-- does anyone else know you're here?!"

"Quit worrying so much, My, it's all good!"

"Maya!!"

⁂

You failed.

Not only did you fail to win this trial, you failed to keep your composure. Everyone could see you cry. Everyone could see you lose control.

A von Karma does not lose, and a von Karma does not cry.

You are not worthy of the prestige of your family.

It's like you're not a von Karma at all--

No. That's not true. You are Sascha von Karma.

Your name is Sascha von Karma.

A von Karma never accepts failure.

It's his fault. That man.

Miles Edgeworth.

He makes you sick.

He's going to pay.

[coreastories]

The Queen’s Dresser

Days and Nights of Forever Part 13 

On AO3 for kudos and download 

The first days of queenship, and the start of the queen’s famous sartorial elegance. 

Read with: 

Corea News #1: Meet Tae-Eul, the mysterious new queen of Corea

Corea News #24: 10 Times the king and queen of Corea made the ahjummas ugly-cry over their romance  (This is the Pyongyang Hospital scene)

Days and Nights of Forever Part 10 Pieces of Paper (for the 14th Rule)

This has been in my outlines for ages, but the recent fashion buzz made by the August 5 posts made me flesh it out. :) 

Let me know what you think! 

Daily life became daily life. 

He was a king. She was a queen, now. But life was somewhat normal until after breakfast. 

He always woke up first. He was an early riser. Sometimes Tae-Eul would blink to consciousness with the gray light of dawn seeping between the gap of the draperies and she’d have a moment to think she was the first one to wake but no, Gon’s arms would tighten around her, and he’d kiss her on the cheek or temple and burrow his face into her neck. 

They’d have another cat nap cuddled together, or make love, or make love and then nap again, before one of them got up. 

That was usually Tae-Eul. And when Tae-Eul got up, Gon would, too. She’d tried to make him sleep a bit more because she was only going for a workout, but he’d said, “I’ll watch. Or we can spar.”

So this became a part of their morning routine. 

Perhaps this one wasn’t normal, was it? How many couples in the kingdom or the republic had a suite converted into a dojang and started most mornings sparring? 

Tae-Eul loved it. Gon had now become comfortable and competitive enough to be a gratifying sparring partner. He didn’t pull his kicks and hits-- not by much. He expected her to dodge or parry. 

He was bigger and heavier, so he was pretty much what she had trained all her life to attack. 

The first morning they’d done this-- and once she’d taught him a lesson about his nonsense of not wanting to hurt her-- their spar lasted almost an hour, each of them getting to know each other’s moves, getting into each other’s defenses, and getting under each other’s skin. They’d discovered each other’s tender bruises when they made love in the shower. 

The second morning when she’d suddenly feinted a swing and then brought him down with a leg sweep, they decided to do away with the usual courtesies. No bowing. Not even facing each other across the mat. It was much more fun to never know when the other was going to start. 

Like now. As soon as they came out of their dojang’s shower in their workout clothes--tees and sweatpants--Tae-Eul spun a kick to Gon’s head. 

But his head was no longer there. 

Rising to full height from his momentary duck, Gon grabbed her by the waist and dropped her on her back on the mat, locking both arms around her shoulders as he leaned across her from the side, trapping her torso with his completely. 

She squirmed and bridged her hips and tried to lift him using her elbows and feet but she couldn’t budge him. “What are you doing?”

He was grinning as he kept her pinned, his head resting almost casually on her opposite shoulder. “This is jiu jitsu, of course. Tap when you’re tired.” 

She bared her teeth. She couldn’t believe the bastard surprised her with jiu jitsu. “Like hell I’ll tap.” 

She bridged her hips, using her feet and legs for leverage, but that did nothing because he was on her upper body. She could feel him laughing against her and it just infuriated her more that he had enough breath and energy to laugh. He was only pinning her with his body weight. 

And she was getting tired.

She straightened her legs and just rested limply on the floor. She smirked when he stopped laughing and instantly stiffened in awareness. He rocked forward a little bit more from his knees and ankles, and pinned her a little bit more firmly on the mat. 

He looked at her warily now. 

It was her turn to grin. “I bet you’re getting tired. You’re not in a comfortable position at all, are you?”

“No. I can stay here on top of you all day.” 

Of course, a court maid opened the door just as he said that. 

Tae-Eul closed her eyes and felt her blood rush to her neck and face. 

Without moving an inch, Gon said, “Annyeonghaseyo. Are you new?”

Tae-Eul felt as much as heard the thump on the mat as the maid dropped to her knees. “Pyeha. I’m so sorry. I was told to check here and clean. I was told I should do so before six.” 

“Ahh. I suppose we got here too early today. You can go.” A pause. A chuckle with his breath fanning across her ear and cheek. “She’s gone.” 

Tae-Eul bridged her hips and braced her legs and feet. But this time she didn’t try to push him off. She just started rocking him side to side. As she’d calculated, he hadn’t expected it, and he went off balance as she pushed and pulled him back and forth while he was on his knees. 

On the fifth pull, she had both hands on his shoulder, and on the sixth push, she pushed both hands on that shoulder and managed to break his pin. With the space she created between their bodies, she pulled both legs toward her chest and then kicked him off her. 

She followed his momentum as he landed on his back. She sat on his stomach, braced with her thighs and feet in case he tried something. She could still feel the heat in her cheeks so she might as well just continue blushing. With more audacity than she really felt, she said, “Well? What happened to staying on top of me all day?” 

He must have seen her embarrassment at her own words because he laughed, looking at her with that gaze that still made her want to hide or kiss him. Both. It wasn’t heated. Just too intense, too admiring. 

He put both hands on her knees and squeezed. “I can. But we’re going to Pyongyang today.” 

And just like that, she folded over and hid her face against his shoulder. 

“What should I wear? Are they going to dress me again?” 

He stroked her hair. “I’ve laid out something for you, and you won’t need help getting into these, so no, they won’t dress you.” She could hear the smile in his voice. The last time she’d been ‘dressed’ was at their wedding, when she’d been helped into heirloom silk and the dragon robe and the pheasant robe. Everything had been gorgeous… and overwhelming.   She lifted her face and looked at him. “You laid something out for me? I guess you do know clothes. The first thing you did when we met was go shopping.”

“No, the first thing I did was hug you.”

“No, the first thing you did was infuriate me.”

“I was just answering your questions.” He smiled at her and stroked her hair. “And you can really wear what you like, you know.”

What a lie that was. Tae-Eul knew she couldn’t just wear what she wanted, or rather, what she’d been used to. Truth be told, she hadn’t really wanted to wear what she had been used to, all those clothes she’d worn as a cop. She simply felt she had to. 

When she made detective and no longer had to wear a uniform, she’d been at a loss about what to wear. In the end, she defaulted to big trousers, roomy shirts, roomier coats, clothes she could move around in, clothes in sizes that disguised how small she was. 

It was always fun when she punched someone and they were stunned at both the punch and at the strength of it from the size of her. But she’d always faced lowlifes or their wider circle who all had things to hide and she’d rather not face them without armor. Her big clothes had been armor. 

And now those lowlifes were far, far away from her. The people around her were their complete opposite in station and stature, she’d seen how the women in this strata dressed here, and she knew what was expected of her as queen. 

She swung herself off Gon and got up, nudging his ribs with her foot when she was standing and he was still lying there. “Come on. I want to see what you laid out for me.” 

He sat up and stroked her leg over her sweatpants from the back of her knee to her ankle. “It’s okay if you don’t want to go. You can take your time. And contrary to what Secretary Mo says, they can certainly wait to meet you.” 

She bent down and retrieved his hand from her ankle, then used it to pull her to his feet. He went willingly enough, and she continued to pull his hand across her shoulders. He tucked her against his side and she looked at him with all the fondness she felt at that moment. 

“Fourteenth rule,” she said. “Let me worry about my job. You have yours.”  

Back in their suites-- no maids encountered in the hallways this time-- he watched her face as they walked into their dressing room and she saw what he had laid out for her. 

Laid out wasn’t the right thing to call it. The whole thing was on a dressmaker’s dummy so she could see how it would look when worn. 

She smiled. Gon grinned, half-smug, half-relieved. 

“I thought you’d want something more familiar to start,” he said, squeezing her shoulder gently. “And I knew you might not want a dresser yet, not until you get really busy.”

“You thought right.” She stepped away from him and touched the fabric. Soft. It was a black pantsuit, with bronze buttons on the front and on the cuffs, shiny enough when it caught the light, but still subdued. The blouse was white. It was simple. She loved it. 

She decided she wouldn’t ask if the buttons were genuine, precious metal. Then what Gon said registered. “A dresser?” 

“The queen’s dresser. It’s an official position. Someone who picks out your outfits so you won’t have to. Historically, he or she is your chief eunuch or court lady.”

They looked at each other and they both stifled a laugh at imagining Lady Noh dressing either of them. Gon shrugged. “She would look after our clothes. She checks everything.” 

“I suppose it’s not normal if you just continue what you’ve started? I like this.”

That boyish smile grew bigger and then turned impish. “I won’t mind. I’ll make time for it. I have lingerie and nightgowns in mind.”

Tae-Eul pursed her lips. “I won’t mind either. I love you whatever you wish to wear.” 

She counted three seconds for that to sink in and then she turned away giggling to go to the shower as he sputtered, “They’re for you! Not me! Why would I-- there are still rumors about me and Yeong-- don’t say stuff like that--” 

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

As Gon had predicted, three senior court ladies vying for the queen’s dresser position turned up with Lady Noh that morning. That day’s trip was their first official visit since the marriage, and the first time the kingdom would lay eyes on the queen. 

The women all looked familiar. He had probably seen them in his own dressing room over the years. 

Except for his valet, whom tradition had dictated to always be younger than the king, he hadn’t interacted with anyone who came and went from the dressing room, but he knew their faces.  

And now he looked over the women. One of them just might be chosen as his wife’s dresser. Her most intimate maid.

His wife. That still thrilled him when it crossed his mind. 

The three ladies all wore their hair in a bun, and in their uniform, they looked interchangeable, but they all looked kind enough. He knew Lady Noh was quite picky about faces. 

In contrast to the king’s valet who was always younger so that he didn’t surpass the king’s seniority in any way, tradition dictated the queen’s dresser to be older than the queen, to impart dignity and wisdom to the queen. 

Gon decided Tae-Eul didn’t need to know that. He whispered as much to Lady Noh while they waited for Tae-Eul to appear. 

“Oh, my queen, you look lovely.”

“You have the perfect body proportions for suits.”

Gon looked up-- that last comment made him grimace a little-- as the court ladies erupted into movement and soft but insistent compliments. 

There she was, walking in with long strides and her shoulders square. Her eyes sought him immediately, so he made sure his gaze locked with hers. He knew saying anything right now would just make her squirm because of the people around them, so he just nodded and smiled. 

He realized the last court lady hadn’t spoken yet. She seemed to be the youngest of the three, maybe late-thirties or early forties. She was approaching the queen now. 

“How does it feel, Your Majesty? Do you like it?”

Hmm. That was nice. Not obsequious. Sensible. Gon could see potential in this court lady. 

Tae-Eul turned to her and said, “Yes, I like it.” She twisted her torso and swung her arms across her waist, testing the sleeves, and the court ladies all had to step back. Gon grinned. Probably a calculated move. 

“You made a good choice with the shoes,” the same court lady said. 

Gon looked down, and Tae-Eul did pick the perfect pair of pointed shoes for the suit. She looked perfect. 

He could also see all the women in the room staring at her with open expressions of admiration. Lady Noh, three senior court ladies, and three maids in attendance, and they were all looking at Tae-Eul. 

Lady Noh had told him Tae-Eul grew prettier the longer you looked at her. That memory still made him smile. And Yeong-- not in many or similar words-- had told him that the palace pretty much agreed with Lady Noh’s assessment. 

The Royal Guard had put ears out, of course, to detect any malicious intent, but there were none. If anything, the palace was smitten. 

The court ladies and court maids were always talking about the queen every time one of them saw her, and the talk was always the same: how fine and flawless her skin was, how fair, the natural waves in her hair. They’d even discussed her figure, slender without lacking the right curves. How tall she actually was, the same height or taller than the court maids considered tall among them. 

Well. Gon agreed with all that. His wife was perfect. 

“What do you want done to your hair, Mama?”

“Maybe a braided bun, to add texture to the suit.” 

“With your hair down, it makes the suit and pointed shoes casual and accessible rather than a power outfit. But you still look very put together.”

Points to the third court lady again. Gon leaned down to Lady Noh. “What’s her name?”

“Torres Chung-cha,” Lady Noh whispered back. “She’s only half-Corean.” 

“What’s the other half?”

“Filipino.” 

“Family is known to us?”

“Oh yes. They’re good people.” 

Gon looked at Tae-Eul, and she was looking at the suit’s reflection in the mirror, her lips doing that unconscious pouting tic he hoped no one would ever point out to her. 

“I’ll leave my hair down,” Tae-Eul said. 

“Maybe I can run a heated brush through it?” said Torres Chung-cha. “It will look polished and splendid.” 

Tae-Eul caught Gon’s eyes in the mirror, and he saw her curiosity and approval. The court ladies saw it, too, because they immediately produced the ceramic brush. One of them plugged it in with an extended cable, another accepted and positioned the chair a maid had fetched, and Torres Chung-cha received the brush from her peers with humility equal to their deference to her now as the candidate with the highest chance of succeeding. 

When Tae-Eul was seated and they started on her hair, Gon sat down too, crossing his legs and stretching an arm on the back of the sofa. 

“So who was that new maid who was hazed and sent to the dojang this morning?”

It was amusing how synced Tae-Eul and Lady Noh were as they jumped a little and raised their eyes to the ceiling. The five uniformed women all looked at the floor. Tae-Eul was red to the roots of her hair and glaring at him through the mirror. 

Torres Chung-cha was the only one who laughed softly. “Pyeha, that’s my cousin. She started yesterday.” 

Tae-Eul asked, “Is she all right?”

“Yes, she is, my queen. It served her right. She should have known better and only accepted instructions from her senior court lady. I hope she didn’t disturb Your Majesties?”

Tae-Eul said, “No.” Gon said, “Well--” 

Torres Chung-cha was grinning. “You would have no worries on that account, of course, Your Majesties. My cousin wouldn’t talk. Well, she couldn’t talk for an hour or so.” 

Gon laughed and opened his mouth but closed it again when he saw Tae-Eul giving him a look that promised retribution if he didn’t. So he did. 

Tae-Eul looked at Chung-cha reproachfully, but Chung-cha only beamed. 

Gon nodded to himself. He had done what he’d intended. Tae-eul needed someone she could talk to rather than talk at, and Torres Chung-cha had proven she was that someone. 

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

Pyongyang wasn’t as bad as she’d feared. Tae-Eul let out a breath as she and Gon stepped away from the car and walked to the entrance. 

The Children’s Hospital didn’t have a helipad--a situation Gon told Secretary Mo to fix immediately--so they drove from another building whose name she couldn’t remember just now.  

There was crowd control already in place, and the Royal Public Affairs Office had kept a tight lid on the date. The result was only two news crews were there when they arrived, probably ones with eyes on helipads and recognized the royal chopper when it landed. Onlookers only came when they saw the press, and they were just passersby with time on their hands. 

“Pyeha, Mama,” was on everyone’s lips, and amid all the bowing and greetings, Tae-Eul nodded and smiled, her hand in Gon’s, gripping his tightly but remembering to let go when she saw the sign to the wards. 

Gon looked down at her then in surprise, as if he’d forgotten she could detach her hand from his, which was a silly thought. She bit her lip to keep from laughing hysterically. “I’m going this way, Pyeha.” She tilted her head toward the inpatient department.

“Ahh, of course, thank you, wangbi. I’ll see you in a few minutes.” 

He leaned toward her and Tae-Eul thought he was going to kiss her--and what would she do then? Let him? Deflect it?-- but he only went past her cheek to her ear, and whispered, “Saranghae.” 

She walked away before the dork said or did anything else mortifying, but she stopped short when she remembered the order of precedence. She was supposed to move only after the king had moved. 

When she turned back to him, he was still there, smiling, and motioning for her to continue on her way. She did as if she hadn’t just made a faux pas. To her right, In-yeong caught her eye and gave her a small nod of assurance. The Parks were royalists and In-yeong had been raised on guns and royal protocol, so that nod meant a lot to Tae-Eul. 

She visited all three floors of the inpatient rooms and talked to some of the kids, told them to listen to their mothers, drink their medicine, and get well soon. The rounds should have been quick, but doctors and nurses and parents all seemed to stop to talk to her, and she couldn’t turn them away. 

By the time she trailed kids and parents to the new wing, her fingers were trembling a little. 

It wasn’t because of the people-- they were all so nice. But Tae-Eul realized she wasn’t really used to talking to people. She usually interrogated them. Or arrested them. Her circle had been small all her life, people who were already around her in the first place, either at home, at the dojang, in class, and then at the academy and the station. 

She knew how to be polite and charming, but she’d just discovered doing it twenty-five times in a row was draining. She’d been polite and charming to twice that many people in the last hour. 

She also smiled and waved for photos about a dozen times before Jangmi saw she was tired of it and subtly stopped it through the rest of the guard. 

Tae-Eul was relieved when she was finally beside Gon again. 

The rosette to the new wing took up about half of the double doorway. It was in all the royal colors, black, blue, gold and crimson-- and she and Gon stood on either side of the huge rosette and cut the ribbon. 

There was loud applause and cheers, and Tae-Eul was sincerely happy because this new wing would help so many sick children. It was amazing how money well-spent could do so much. It made her proud and happy of this country--her new country. 

She wondered if that happiness had gone to her head or if she was really feeling lightheaded. 

She smiled and waved to more of the photos and hoped she didn’t look as pale and clammy as she felt. 

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

Gon took one look at Tae-Eul and caught Yeong’s eye. Yeong looked at Tae-Eul, looked at Jangmi, and Jangmi looked around and went into the nearest consultation room. When he came out and nodded, Gon rose from his seat and raised a hand to the people in the universally understood language of asking to be excused. 

Then he pulled his wife to the room Jangmi had checked. 

Yeong closed the door just as Gon pulled Tae-Eul against him. She sighed and burrowed her face inside the lapel of his coat and Gon was a little alarmed at how heavily she leaned on him. Up close, she looked even paler. He pressed his hand against her cheek and neck. Her skin was a little cold.   

“Are you all right?” 

She nodded. “I’m fine. Let me just catch my breath.”

He stroked her back. “I remember my first royal visit. I was 15. It was at Sejong University, and the Ministry of Science and Technology and I were awarding one of the research centers a grant of nine billion won. I remember meeting so many people, including the foreign exchange students. I had to go sit in an empty room in the middle of it all.”

“Really?”

Gon nodded. For all her bravado and pluck, Tae-Eul was shy. It was something easily hidden by the nature of her job, where initiative was paramount, but Tae-Eul wasn’t someone who basked in attention. In her job, the light was on her targets, whether they were suspects, accomplices, witnesses, or informers, never her. 

He’d been raised and prepared for this and it was still exhausting when he did it for the first time. “It helps to think of something else. Everyone just becomes background.” 

She sighed against him. Her face emerged from his lapel. Her grip on his back relaxed. “Who’s your dresser?”

Gon smiled. She was such a quick study. “I don’t really know. I pick all the clothes you’ve seen me in since we met. The normal clothes anyway. And when I have to go somewhere, sometimes I don’t like what they lay out for me and I pick something else, but for the most part, they do well.” 

“That’s why you were good at being my dresser today.” 

“And you liked what I picked.”

She nodded against him, and she felt lighter, once more standing on her own feet. 

“I like that I won’t have to think of clothes if I have a dresser.”

“Hmm, yes. You just have to tell them what you like and don’t like. It’s still your decision, but your dresser should also be able to predict your preferences and decisions.”

“Is it really okay when I break protocol?”

“You’re really worrying about that now?” he said in mock outrage. “After all the names you’ve called me? I haven’t beheaded you yet, have I?”

She raised her face from where it still rested on his chest and looked at him with eyes that sparkled a little. He saw so much there, and he tightened his arms around her. 

“I need something for me,” she said quietly. “I’m the queen today. The king’s wife. Even my clothes will reflect on you and the country. I need something that’s mine. Just mine.”

He understood. Since he’d met her, he’d also become Lee Gon. Not just the king, but Lee Gon-- and he had made things his, too. He had decided to be Lee Gon as much as king, and he was still discovering what that meant beyond mathematics and rowing. 

Meeting her gaze, he said, “Someone asked me once what kind of king I was. And I didn’t know how to answer her. I’m still discovering the answer to that now.” 

Two teardrops spilled over but she was smiling. He wiped those tears. 

“Let me break the fourteenth rule for a second. Your queenship is yours. You are queen because you’re my wife yes, but you’re also queen in your own right. You have your own authority. You’ll need that authority because it’s going to be a thankless job at times, but I’m already excited about how you’ll shake this country.

“And everything you do to define your queenship will be one hundred percent yours because of your fourteenth rule, won’t it? I won’t have any input unless you ask me. But-- I hope you won’t mind it if I step in where needed. I don’t want you to be any more exhausted than you need to be. And I have been doing this since I was eight.”

She nodded and he smiled at her trust. He hoped he had demonstrated enough times in the past that he never stepped in until she needed him to. 

“Your clothes should reflect you and no one else. You’re the queen. You can set trends. You don’t have to follow any.” 

She wrinkled her nose. “I doubt I’ll set any trends.” 

“You might if I’m your dresser.” 

They laughed. 

“Can I give you some practical advice?”

She nodded, squeezing his waist. 

“When your photos are taken, smile smaller and don’t move much. That way, it won’t tire you out. Just smile with your eyes and that’s it.” 

She smiled brightly up at him, her eyes curved slits. “Like this?”

“Well, no. Haven’t you been listening? That’s gonna hurt your cheeks.” She laughed and then calmed down, looking at him fondly. “There. That smile. Small but sweet.” 

She held the smile she was giving him and she looked so beautiful he kissed her forehead. Would have kissed her if he wasn’t aware of the public outside the glass windows. 

But he’d been aware of them since he was eight. 

“Let’s go. We’ve been here long enough.” 

They came out of the room to a quieter cheer, with some staff and parents asking if the queen was all right. 

Tae-Eul gave them a small smile and told them she was fine. She was. 

Of course she was. 

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

The ribbon cutting at Pyongyang Children’s Hospital was followed by a whirlwind of more appearances. Tae-Eul steadily got used to it all, her stamina increasing and her cheeks getting used to the workout, and true to his word, Gon laid out her clothes for her. More suits, casual dresses, tops and trousers and skirts. 

Over time, she also altered his choices, exchanging this blazer for another one, or this blouse for that one instead. On paper and in the palace ranks, Torres Chung-cha was the queen’s dresser, but so far, all she was doing was give Tae-Eul confidence in her choices. 

Especially in shoes. Tae-Eul always picked her shoes, and Chung-cha seemed to genuinely like what she picked. Tae-Eul had tested her thrice already, picking pairs she knew weren’t quite right, and all three times, Chung-cha had spoken her mind. 

“No, no. Not quite.” 

“Oh no, Mama, you only wear brown leather shoes with blue, and even then, it’s the absolute last resort. We’re not in the twenties, we don’t have to wear brown shoes.” 

“I’m not letting you out of the palace in that.” 

Shoes were easy enough for her to pick, since all the shoes she had were nice. Tae-Eul also discovered an affinity for some additional height. 

She’d always prefer flats, but she liked the way pumps pushed at her heels and the rest of her spine. Her gait changed. Her posture changed. It gave her a sense of aptitude and capacity, like she could face anything--and stomp painfully on anything that got in her way. 

Maybe that was why Seo-ryeong liked pumps so much and didn’t seem to wear anything else. 

“We have a line with Chanel, Versace, Givenchy, Diane von Furstenberg, Stella McCartney, and three boutiques who can supply different designers and brands. I think I have your preferred looks in my head now and if the king stops being your unofficial dresser,” Chung-cha said with wry amusement, “I’d like to try my hand at actually dressing you.” 

“He does have that trip to Sweden and it will take five days,” Tae-Eul said, telling herself she wasn’t actually already hating it. “You’ll have your chance then. But why are those designers all European? American? What about Corean designers?” 

“Hmm. Corean design is mostly streetwear, so far. Nothing you could wear, Mama. Rejina Pyo has nice coats. I can show you a selection. Leesle Hwang-- she creates modern interpretations of the hanbok. Although I think the Royal Court would prefer you to wear a hanbok properly if you’ll wear one.” 

Tae-Eul lifted her chin. She could still hear what Gon had said. Her clothes were her decision, hers alone. Hang the Royal Court. And if it helped a designer gain more recognition, all the better. “Let’s see what she has.” 

Chung-cha nodded, bowed, and left the room. 

Tae-Eul stood up and looked at her reflection. She-- well, Gon-- had always stuck to neutrals before, but now she was in her most colorful and most feminine outfit. A sheer purple blouse  and floral print skirt in black and silver. She had to wear a silk tank underneath the blouse. The shoes she picked were also bold with three colors, black fading into nude at the heels. And the heels and soles were red. 

Chung-cha said they were the most gorgeous Louboutins she had ever seen, and the nude color almost blended in with Tae-Eul’s ankles and legs. 

Tae-Eul had wondered if she needed to put on red lipstick, which wasn’t her at all, but Chung-cha told her it was fine. Purple and red just worked together by themselves. 

The heels were the tallest she’d worn so far, and when Gon came into the room and stood beside her, the top of her head was level with his ears. 

“Wow, you’re taller,” he said, smiling. He wore a simple black shirt, black trousers, and a beige coat. It was the perfect, understated match for her more colorful outfit. 

They were going to a children’s party. The Minister of Social Welfare’s first granddaughter was celebrating her 100th day with 100 kids and 100 elderly folks. The kids and elderly were from indigent families, orphans, or completely alone. The ministry--with backing from the palace-- would establish these children and elderly in school and housing. 

“You look like a doll. Perfect for a little girl’s Baek-il.” 

He must have seen the change in her face, because he put an arm around her shoulders and said, “You’re beautiful. You look absolutely fine. Too fine.” He frowned at their reflection at the mirror, specifically at her legs. “Maybe you should change into trousers.” 

She backhanded him on the stomach. 

It was very light but he groaned and doubled over. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot!” She stroked his stomach over his shirt. She had hit him there that morning in their spar. She hugged him and it felt good to be able to place her chin and laugh over his shoulder without having to tiptoe. 

“Try not to hit me in this sore spot until it heals, woman,” he said against her hair, which was down with the waves enhanced. “I’m already your dresser. Let’s not show them I’m also your punching bag.”

“Why didn’t you dodge?” It was a kick and he had to have seen it coming. He had been too winded earlier to answer when she’d asked, and she had been too busy checking if she’d cracked his rib to insist. When she was sure he was only bruised, she’d gone to get ice and forgot her question. 

Gon leaned back from her. “You really don’t know?”

She shook her head. 

“You were wearing tights! I ban tights on our spars.”

She gaped at him and then laughed.

“Well, you’re the queen’s dresser. You can remove all my tights.”

It was his turn to gape and laugh, since it took her two seconds to realize and sputter, “I mean from my wardrobe! Remove them all from my wardrobe!”

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

Sejong University 9 billion grant really happened in 2002 and it really came from the Ministry of Science and Technology. 

Chung-cha means noble. Patricia means noble. This is for the Patricia in my life, who needs some bracing. I hope this will do?

Swoon, I just saw your comment and I think you’re happy with the coat hiding here. Hahaha.

Please let me know what you think! This is a big chapter! I hope that makes up for the recent gap. More to come! 

[renee-writer]

The Surrogate Chapter 3 Ned

She dresses in her best suit, with her hair in an up-do and minimal make-up. Today, she is meeting with the Fraser’s and their lawyer to sign the papers.

 

He pulls on a dress shirt and jacket. Gee pulls on an ivory dress. “No tie?” she looks over at her husband.

 

“I think it would be overkill.”

 

“Overkill! This is our child we are talking about.”

 

“I have known Ned forever. Come, we don’t want to be late.”  She grabs her purse and follows him with a pout.  Good. She doesn’t always have to have her way.

 

She sits nervously at the desk. The kindly looking lawyer gives her a smile.  “Don’t worry lass. I represent you as much as them. Your best interest are theirs. The interest of the bairn are paramount.”

 

“I feel the same.”

 

“Very good. They should be here soon.” She nods and tries to prevent her hands nervously drumming on the table.

 

“So sorry we are late. Was trying to talk James into wearing a tie.” They hurry in a few minutes later.

 

Ned stands. “Jamie hates them and knows they aren’t required unless we are going to court. Have a seat.” Jamie internally sighs as Geneva takes the seat closed to Ned leaving him to sit by Miss Beauchamp.

 

“Maybe so but..”

 

“Let it go Gee.”

 

“On to why we are all gathered. As I was explaining to Miss Beauchamp, I represent her interests and the interest of the potential child also. As all your interest combine. Do you agree?”

 

“Aye.” He is trying not to meet her eyes, trying to keep focused on why they are here. So he looks to his wife instead.

 

“Well yes.” Said reluctantly but Ned, no dummy, takes the win and moves on.

 

“Very well. Let’s get the big stuff out of the way first. Miss Beauchamp, by law, you have ninety days to change your mind but the Fraser’s would like to take their child home right away. I assume you have no problem with this?”

 

“None at all.”

 

“Excellent. Now, they are also asking for frequent ultrasounds so any issues can be discovered and dealt with. “

 

“What do you mean dealt with?” surprisingly, this come from Jamie.

 

“You didn’t agree Jamie? Geneva asks for me to add an abortion clause to..”

 

“No, I didn’t know.” He turns his stern eyes to her.

 

“Come Jamie, we don’t want to raise a handicap child.”

 

“You presume to speak for me.” Said in a low voice but they all hear the rage.

 

“So you do?”

 

“I will. We will  take as God gives. Take it out Ned.”

 

“No leave it in.”

 

“Seems you are the tie breaker, Miss Beauchamp.”

 

“Me?”

 

“Her?”

 

“Yes. The law is clear. She can agree or refuse.”

 

“I, ahh, can’t sign papers agreeing to an abortion. My raising won’t allow it. Nor my medical knowledge.”

 

“It goes then.” He sees the look of disgust on Geneva’s face. “Unless you wish another surrogate?”

 

“No, strike it but you are my witness that I won’t be raising a handicap child.”

 

“So noted. Okay then, where were we. Ah right, I assume we can all agree that Miss Beauchamp will refrain from alcohol, smoking, and illegal and legal drugs unless prescribed or advised by a physician to take?” Nods and yes’ all around. “Excellent. Now, the Fraser’s wish to attend child birth classes and your doctor’s appointments, have access to your medical records..”

 

“Wait. What? All of them?”

 

“Do you have something to hide?” Geneva asks.

 

“No. Nothing but, look I can see you being able to see things related to the baby. I have no problem with that but anything else seems an invasion of privacy.”

 

“I tend to agree. We will limit it to the baby.” Jamie adds.

 

“James, don’t you think we need to know if their was any past family issues?”

 

“I believe a complete history is taken at the first doctor’s visit. I am also sure Miss Beauchamp would divulge any history of cancer or mental illness in her family.”

 

“I would. Mrs. Fraser, I swear, I am healthy, my family is. I wouldn’t be doing this otherwise.”

 

“Everyone okay with limiting the medical scope to things related to the pregnancy only?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Aye.”

 

“As long as nothing come up in the first appointment.”

 

“Nothing will.” Said with a sign.

 

“Alright, moving on…”

 

An hour later, the papers are all signed. Claire will go for a pre-pregnancy physical then they will start the insemination process.

 

“I will go get the car.” Geneva says as she leaves the room. They all breath sighs of relief at her parting.

 

“I am heading down to wait on my mate. Thank you Mr. Gowan.”

 

“Ned dear. You are welcome.” She walks out and Ned watches his eyes follow her. “Are you  sure Jamie. Adoption would be..”

 

“I know but Gee wants our own. Trust me when I say, I have had this argument. You know how stubborn she is.”

 

“Yes. I am glad you stood up for yourself and the bairn.”

 

“Thank you Ned. When it is important. I best go. She will be waiting.”

 

“Yes. I am here.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

He hurries towards the door and stops when he sees Miss Beauchamp by it. “To cold to wait outside. My mate will be here soon.”

 

“You have no car?”

 

“Oh I do. It is just in the shop. Part of the life of a medical student. Crummy cars and long hours.”

 

“What are you specializing in?”

 

“Surgery. I have a long road ahead.”

 

“But will be worth it in the end.”