#this is not @ anyone in particular!! its happened a couple times now which is what brought it to my attention so i wanted to make-

[sonknuxadow]

why is literally everyone on my sonic tomodachi life island in love with shadow as if theres not other people to choose from and hes not gonna reject them every time . stop creating a love spiderweb with some guy whos not even interested in you

[floydleart]

Since the revival of the yogscast suggestion blogs / ysblore has reached my doorstep I am gently going to set the boundary that I do not want my art reblogged to those types of blogs (ie rp/suggestion/kin/introject blogs)

Nobody did anything wrong, it’s just for my own comfort and I appreciate u all <33

[weaselle]

i am convinced that human evolution and development was centered around the basic up-grade from "i steal your resources" to "i steal your behaviors and concepts"

We got clever enough and we just started copying absolutely everything we observed just because now we could figure out how to copy concepts and things that other animals were doing

see that squirrel hoarding acorns for the winter? we can do that. okay now how do we make these acorns edible, cause they are poisonous to a number of animals and we don't do great with them either. What if you put them in the fire? or just on hot coals? what if you put them in water on hot coals and boil them? Oh if you soak them in cold water for 24 hours and maybe change the water a couple times you can totally eat them? YOINK storing acorns for winter is our idea now.

or, you ever seen a weaver bird do it's thing? if not i'll give you one guess what they do

or how about the tailor bird that uses spider silk to stitch the edges of a big leaf together to make a nest in

or sometimes they'll stitch a bunch of leaves into a little cup for a nest

like i'm not trying to downplay how clever it is to be the first humans to weave or sew, and indeed, being the first person to weave that anyone knew about probably happened many times throughout human existence but my conceit is that most if not all of those times was a human seeing something in nature that was basically weaving and going "i'ma do that, and get real good at it - i'ma take that concept and really make it mine"

like it wouldn't surprise me if humans got dogs because we saw how ravens were treating wolves and went "shit yeah, great idea - YOINK that's my idea now."

most of the things that we think of as special human skill or behavior can actually be found elsewhere throughout nature -- all over there are animals using tools, farming, ranching, building, etc.

my favorite primate behavioralist anecdote is a group of people studying tool use in chimps were spending their days in the bush logging the use of twigs to catch termites, and over the campfire at night they're like "it's so boring i wish they'd do something more impressive than this completely basic tool skill."

and one of them was like "actually... how do we know its not a difficult skill? has anyone tried to use a twig to catch termites and see?" and so the next day, like good little scientists, they went out and recorded their attempts at catching termites with twigs.

And lo and behold out of the whole group and all their attempts that day, only, like, a single termite was caught by a human, mostly by chance. Suddenly the whole situation flipped - they'd been thinking of it as basic unskilled tool use, but actually the chimps knew how to do something that none of them could easily figure out on their own - or even together as a group!

y'all, they had to go back to watching the chimps do it to figure out how. Think about that. University degrees, scientific minds, educated people... and they had to be taught how by the chimps.

It turns out there's a reason that young chimps will spend like a year closely studying how an adult is fishing for termites. You gotta select the right kind of twig or leaf stem, maybe you fray the end like a paint brush depending on particulars, you gotta have just the right poking and little shaking technique to provoke the termites into biting the twig, it's a whole thing. There's even regional/cultural differences in the general approach to termite fishing that are distinct between groups that live in different areas.

Now, wild chimps have been observed using objects as tools to fashion crude spears for hunting (it's the mothers doing it by the way, and slowly some of their kids have been growing up doing it, which will probably result in refinements and developments eventually.

ants do both farming and ranching. For real. Some species of ant grow a fungus they eat AND it's a domesticated fungus, like our corn, it can't actually reproduce and survive in the wild without the ants farming it. They maintain its growing conditions and feed it leaf litter mulch, and the fungus produces some kind of ant food idk i forget the details about that. But that's farming. They are farming a domesticated mushroom, basically. And other species of ant will maintain a herd of aphids; they'll move them from grazing area to grazing area, and protect them from predators, and they "milk" them for a liquid food substance and also every now and then they straight up eat one. That's ranching.

beavers sometimes have muskrat... tenants? pets? The muskrats low key pay rent by changing out the reed bedding they all use, and they live in the beaver's lodge with them and eat some of the food. So. idk

Some Tarantulas keep frogs as pets

anyway my point is, i think the true human skill that sets us apart is our ability deconstruct and reconstruct anything we see into something that is for us. Oh, you eat that? Now WE eat that. You have the perfect teeth to drill little holes in specific tree trunks to let the sap ooze out and eat it because it's high in sugar? We don't have those teeth but we're gonna do that now and if we can't figure out a tool that's as good as your teeth at it, watch out, because we will absolutely just also steal your fuckin teeth.

[meanbossart]

Ask compilation: DU drow, Orin, Astarion, lore things and little fun facts.

Trying to make a dent in this dang inbox. As always, thank you so much everyone for your patience and curiosity! Sorry that it is straight up no longer possible for me to reply to everyone, but I will keep doing my best within reason. Enjoy!

Absolutely! I had a lot of requests for bottom Astarion on my patreon which is why I was kind of on a roll there for a minute.

Though, for the record - I am really not very invested in strict bedroom roles at all. Or clear and distinct dominant/submissive dynamics. So please don't overthink it whenever there's a switch, no pun intended.

You wanna know how often they smash? Man, I don't know, I guess fairly often considering their lifestyle post-game (very active, often on the road).

Assuming that everyone agrees that sex doesn't have to involve penetration, I'd say once every other day or less, really depends on the circumstances though. DU drow's libido is much higher than Astarion's, but he's not an animal and can hold off fine. Astarion is likely to be pickier in regards to location and how-recently-have-we-bathed status as well.

I keep meaning to draw him, but I have like... A million things I want to do 😂 so its rough!

BUT you will at least continue to see him in ANE! And I'm sure i'm bound to draw him again in the future.

[MORE UNDER THE CUT]

If you mean in his bhaalist "AU", where he has the red robe and the extra scars, I imagine he would have gotten it through killing Isobel.

I think as a changeling she probably has the ability to just... Transform her hair however she likes at will, right? And based on her attitude plus some lines we get from Sceleritas about her own former-butler, it sounds like she would be really opposed to being serviced in that way, to me at least.

I see her as pretty aggressively independent with the way she operates, which is another factor that sets her apart from DU drow, who really enjoyed lording over the other Bhaalists and making an errand boy out of Sceleritas, to the point where he practically depended on their help to function.

Neither! I wasn't willing to let anyone take either of my eyes in my first playthrough, LOL.

I have since always given the Volo eye to SOMEONE, usually Gale, but I don't consider that canonical. I don't think anyone was desperate enough to let mister frumpy-hat over there ice-pick their eyes out.

He did do them himself. It was a profoundly stupid display he got caught up in because of Gortash. Also, de-handment is kind of a theme in his life, at least inside his head.

I have a comic about it planned for the future ;)

What do you mean, that's canonical to the game and everything! He loves the cuck chair!

He is an angsty 29-year old in denial. Your interpretation is still perfectly accurate.

Hates the guy. Hates when Shadowheart Astarion people joke about him being the Drizzt of his generation. Hates the guy like literally any countercultural weirdo hates Taylor Swift or the Weeknd. If he saw him at the line in the grocery store DU drow would find a way to roll his eyes loudly just so he could notice being an asshole.

Stay tuned, I'm cooking 🧑‍🍳

If you're asking about game strats, badly, LOL. Pretty sure I died twice to her in my first run and it was a rough way of being thrown into "serious" DnD combat.

With the exception of a couple of encounters that just so happened to turn out SURPRISINGLY cinematic, I'm just realizing that I actually don't think too often about how most of the fights went in real-time! I imagine Autie Ethel's in particular wasn't one that DU drow went into of his own accord, probably rather at a companion's insistence. That's as deep as I've thought about that personally.

Now... Back to game strats. I personally try to get a surprise round on her however I can by sneaking and shooting an arrow or AOE in her general location, since she always stands on roughly the same spot while invisible. I have my companions spread about the arena so we can take her clones down as fast as possible, and as soon as I identify who the real Ethel is I just have the strongest martial characters wail on her until she begs to be let go. Hers is one of the few fights that is actually pretty dang easy at this point for me - and I SUCK at this game.

That would certainly take a while! But, Bhaalist DU drow does kind of have an end goal, actually.

That might also turn into a comic eventually, but it would a rough one.

He pretty swiftly disposed of her, DU drow doesn't like being talked down to, which Minthara very promptly does. Him (and I, by extension) had very limited exposure to her and she was just kind of a speck of dust in his story in particular. Though I have since grown to adore her character in my proceeding runs where I do recruit her!

I guess if he got an invitation and it wasn't particularly painful to arrive at the venue, sure! He would specially love to take Astarion to Gale's wedding ceremony and purposely upstage him at every at every opportunity, LOL.

Yes. He got pretty freaky with the pain-priest. This is gonna sound like a lie but I made him get naked for it without even knowing there was a buff to be gained (I didn't get it, unfortunately, I don't remember whether I failed a check or if I had camp clothes toggled on, so it didn't count as being truly nude). I wasn't taking the game very seriously and just doing dumb roleplay things to see what would happen, LOL.

And I consider that canonical. I think DU drow saw the opportunity to show off his physique And had a strange inkling that this was a practice he was... Somehow familiar with.

Imagine my joy when Astarion and Shadowheart start having a back-and-forth about my absurd display. That's when i knew those were my people, to be honest.

[sukunasweetheart]

Can I please request Sukuna and reader picking up their child from preschool? It can be anything, fluff or angst, its up to you!

Love your work and keep it up <33

thank you for requesting and i'm so very sorry that this took a billion years to complete... i just now finally thought of an intriguing way to do this request <3

some warnings: fem!reader, major character death, ooc sukuna, major angst, modern AU, sukuna and reader have a daughter

good things never really last.

well, at least that's what sukuna believed before he came across you. you and your delicate expressions and equally as delicate affection and warmth, which seemed to wrap around him constantly, even when he tried to avoid you at the beginning of all this, all because of his own uncertainty and his rather skeptical outlooks on the concept of love.

he's always been self-centered-- so the idea of his life becoming centered around anyone else but himself, frankly, scared him a little bit.

but, putting that aside...

a high pitched, overjoyed squeal rings out from inside the daycare centre, and a little girl comes running into your open arms, embracing you with the overflowing energy that little children always tend to have. you lift her up with ease, smiling as she giggles from the gesture.

"mommy!" she says, nuzzling her soft, tiny face against yours without much care for being gentle. someone else trails in from behind, feeling a little left out from this reunion.

"aren't you forgetting someone here, princess?"

sukuna also makes his entrance into the centre, walking towards the both of you. your tiny daughter gasps, and flails her arms out towards the big man.

"daddy!! you're here too?!"

"that i am, sweetheart. happy to see me?" he takes her away from you, holding her as gently as possible with his large hands.

"uh huh," she nods with enthusiasm.

"of course you do. my little girl."

the sukuna of the past would've never fathomed having a future like this, where he'd be handling a child of all things with such care. it's really different when they're your own flesh and blood. he's adored her like no one else. ah- well- no one else but you, that is.

he carries her to the car, while you take your daughter's bag from the daycare teacher, who waves you off with a couple of words of goodbye.

the ride home is nothing short of cosy and cheerful, with the happy singing of your little girl coming from the backseats, and the laughs from you as you listen to the way she mispronounces a lot of the words in the song. sukuna drives wordlessly, with a gentle smile on his face.

the skies happened to be so clear that day, with not a speck of a cloud being sighted within it.

some time after arriving home, you began to languidly start your work in the kitchen, preparing dinner that also turned out even better tasting than usual, that particular night. you always felt the happiest, when sukuna praised your cooking, especially as someone who you knew had very high standards when it came to food.

and miraculously, once dinner was all finished and your daughter was all dressed up ready for bedtime, she managed to fall asleep a lot faster than most evenings, leaving you and sukuna with quite a bit of...freetime.

you lay on the mattress under his sultry gaze, as he undresses you carefully as though he were unwrapping a present, trailing soft kisses down the side of your neck. you're as beautiful as the day he first met you. this was the most perfect end to the most perfect day in his life.

too perfect.

...

he should have been suspicious, with the way things were getting so blissful in his life-- his life that had previously been so rocky and turbulent.

was this supposed to be punishment for his sins? for all his arrogance and selfishness? the heavens decided to grace him with the feeling of genuine love and its reciprocation, only to then tear it away from his hands once he'd started to take it for granted.

...it was an unforeseen accident. could've happened to anybody. why did it have to be you?

good things never last.

sukuna drops the home phone immediately upon hearing the news, and hurriedly packs a small bag for his daughter. he drops her off to her friend's house, who is a long term neighbour of theirs. then makes a beeline towards the hospital, speeding past every red light that dared to try and stop him.

yet, that was all for naught, as by the time he'd arrived to your bed at the hospital, you had already taken your last breath, and said your final words. which he couldn't hear for himself.

'please tell them that i love them'. that was apparently all you tried to say. sukuna is made to sign some documents on your passing, and shortly after, they give him some time to spend with your lifeless body. he is then sent home.

he arrives to see some mail that had been slipped in through the front door. notifications of fines, for crossing red lights multiple times and going against speed limits. nothing but a reminder of his failure.

he tears the letters into pieces, and sits himself down on a chair, where he hangs his head in silence, without bothering to turn the lights on in the house.

and all of a sudden, he becomes so very busy, in the following weeks.

caring for his daughter alone. preparing for your funeral. accepting your death.

grief is such a strange, and horrible experience. all this love he has for you. where is it supposed to go now?

the night after your funeral, he's sitting alone at the dining table once again. he can't stand the bedroom. not when it's become only his now, and no longer yours as well. sukuna hasn't slept well in a while.

small footsteps resound against the floorboards, and he looks up to see his daughter standing meekly a distance away from him.

"what's wrong? had a bad dream?" he asks, with the most gentle voice he can muster in his current condition.

"...no. i just had a dream about mommy," she confesses tearfully.

"why can't she just come back? i miss her."

too young to understand the concept of death.

"oh, sweetheart... i miss her too."

she begins to cry, and he gets up to comfort her, as if the one needing the most comfort right now isn't himself.

they huddle and sleep together that night, in attempts to replicate your warmth. the warmth of a mother. and the warmth of a wife.

-

since then, a part of sukuna seemed to change back into his older self, where he cared less for others and remained disinterested in most things that life offered him. he decided not to care about anything or anyone, other than himself and of course, his darling daughter. your gift to him. the only thing keeping him grounded.

he never finds a new lover, nor does he harbour any desires to seek for one, despite the encouragement from others.

you keep appearing in his dreams every now and then. every night before bed, he hopes to see you again, and is disappointed in the mornings where he wakes up with the realisation that it didn't happen.

years and years pass, and while he ages like fine wine, so does his little girl, who becomes not so little anymore. they still share the best bond that a father and daughter could ever have.

but eventually, she finds her own path in life and leaves the house to pursue her own dreams, even getting married to start her own family.

though they still regularly contact each other, sukuna's abode becomes sorrowfully quiet without her presence around. though he's proud as a father, this solitude only deepens his longing for you, like the sensation of slowly sinking towards the bottom of the ocean floor.

good things never last.

though, it's not until a few more years later, that he passes away rather peacefully of old age.

his soul feels light and airy. he feels calm, despite being aware that he's passed on into the afterlife. the bodily discomforts of aging is non-existent in this place.

he's walking towards the bright light, where he assumes he's supposed to go, and realises that there's a figure standing towards the end of it. sukuna already knows who it is, and his walking begins to speed up.

and with each step, his time rewinds.

"look at you. still all pretty and pristine, unlike me with my abhorrent wrinkles," sukuna comments with a chuckle in his voice.

"what are you talking about? you're still as handsome as ever."

as you grab his hand, your touch shifts his appearance... and sukuna reverts back to the time when he glimmered the most vibrantly - the days before you died, the days of his brilliant twenties. he stares at his own hand, where the creases in his skin have disappeared completely.

rejoicing, he pulls you in for a tight embrace, as he can now feel your body against his.

"you did so well. our little girl grew up so beautifully," you tell him with your sweet voice, hands placed against his broad back.

"of course. she's none other than our daughter, after all," he replies with confidence, as he presses his face against the locks of your hair, enjoying your familiar scent.

your bright smile turns to something more sorrowful, and you step back a bit to come face-to-face with him.

"and... you never found someone else. you never remarried."

"because I never intended to look for another. You were the first and last," sukuna tells you matter-of-factly.

"wasn't it lonely?"

"...terribly. but you're here now, so it was worth enduring after all."

you laugh, and it sounds exactly the same as it did all those years before. the memories he had of you, the ones that he held onto so tightly as to not forget, until his very last breath.

"that makes me selfishly happy. i shouldn't be, for your sake, but I am."

"then why don't you give me a kiss? for all my hard effort."

he leans in, like how he'd always done whenever you appeared in his dreams at night.

except this time, your lips actually reach his, instead of disappearing away, like a fleeting memory.

good things may never last for long, but misfortune certainly doesn't last forever, either.

-fin-

Masterlist

[radioroxx]

I wish to know more about the Bonnie and Siffrin double looping au. Please. Destroy me emotionally.

HI SORRY this took a bit to answer lol

thought a bit for how to answer this because on one hand i could spill literally everything i have thought of for this au up to this point (which, while a lot, hasnt actually reached some of the Angstier segments yet. i have vague ideas for those but still workshoppin’ and all). but ahh. i will save some stuff for separate askers maybe lol. for now heres some random points of no particular connection:

- i screwed up a lil in the og post by calling it a bonnie. “joins” the loops au. it is definitely a, bonnie is there from the start, au. i considered for a bit making it more of likee… they start to remember post death to the king, but that wouldve placed em in act 4, and while thats interesting i felt like there wasnt as much to explore there. yknow? (plus. bonnie death to the king is still Very much going to happen in the au. soo)

- bonnie doesnt meet loop until a couple loops in! this was partially loops decision, about being worried to meet the party + how they would react, buuut siffrin is only so good at keeping secrets from people whos memory cant be wiped through time travel, bonne does learn about loop, and insists on meeting them. the timeline is a lil vague in my head, and this interaction i dont have compleeetely planned out? but know that it takes place around the back half of act 2, after first death to the king

- speaking of loop- bon has a pretty interesting dynamic with them too :) this is before bonnie and siffrin are able to have the Talk about his eye, and while looping back and forth together has brought them closer regardless, bon still holds a grudge against them! at least, slightly. that combined with the fact that theyre talking to some… celestial beast? sick as hell star creature?? that GLOWS? bonnie takes the loop pretty easily (this is aided by the fact that siffrin seems to trust them well enough. not completely, he is ofc still skeptical of loop throughout, but its enough that bonnie will trust them too). however, you could probably imagine bonnie is much less tolerable to loops… nonsense. more willing to bite back if they say something out of hand, and more likely to react Badly if they say something upsetting. (still 50/50 of whether or not bonnie would take loops side if they say something mean about siffrin tho lol. depends on the insult. and obviously loop would never,, say stuff like that to bon). iii could keep going about them this dynamic is very fun to me

- the friendquests go relatively the same, the only difference being that it is actually siffrins idea to set bonnie up with that big feast for everyone. !! teamwork! the training session for bonnie becomes a multiple-loops thing, letting them build up their skills over time. i think with the stress of the loops, trying to figure out what to do next now that they know killing the king doesnt work- the talk about the eye and that whole freakout takes a bit to actually get to. i have ideas about how that would go too, because it would be Different and mean something New, but…. that would be so long to put here……… just know that they. still promise to look out for each other. promise to let themselves be helped.

you may be looking me in the eyes at this point with deep frowns and wondering… Pluto….. what are all these happy silly ideas, you are missing out on so much angst potential here ?? and to that i say uuuuuuhhhhhmmm i have thought about it. and look. i dont think having bonnie- or anyone really- joining in on the loops would really solve or lessen siffrins shit mental state. but theres definitely also a layer there, on top of breaking the loops, on top of keeping everyone happy, on top of figuring it out and finding out about their country and the king etc etc- theres a priority in keeping this kid happy too! he will, and has, died dozens of times in these loops, and that sucks, and it sucks that poor bon has to remember it all, so the least they can do is. try to keep things lighthearted around them. Pretend to be hopeful for their sake. encourage them to try out new recipes on different loops to see what sticks with the family! let them run their own experiments in the loops! let bonnie join in fights with sadnesses once their training goes well enough!! do their best to at least have some fun, and some time to relax. sticking to the excuse that its all to make bonnie feel better, without realizing how much thats helping themself as well.

aaand that all sorta falls apart in act four. bonnie is killed- directly, painfully- by the king, and siffrin distances himself as he is so prone to, falls back into trying to get everything done himself because hes the one whos “responsable” for it…. ah you get the idea..

[beatrice-otter]

I really like John Scalzi's analysis of the whole wtfery of this. (I'm not a great fan of his books, I think he's really overrated as a novelist, but his political commentary and commentary on the SF/F world is interesting.)

I think he has a good point about how while the initial panic about his bad performance at the debate was genuine (and if he'd done better, he'd never have withdrawn), but also that once there was panic, he decided how to manage things to maximize Harris' chances at both getting the nomination and winning the election.

Consider that the announcement was made on the Sunday after the Republican National Convention, and after the Sunday morning political talk shows were put to bed, i.e., after the GOP political capital was spent slagging Biden, and when professional spinners would be caught flat-footed by the announcement. Biden’s news was quickly followed by his endorsement of Kamala Harris, which in turn was followed by a flood of endorsements for Harris across the Democratic political firmament, effectively slamming the door on any serious challenge to Harris at the upcoming Democratic National Convention. If you think something like that just happens spontaneously, well, one, bless your heart, and two, you’re wrong. This was a work, a rope-a-dope, and a strategy to energize the Democratic base and to toss what little momentum the GOP had coming out of their convention down a deep, dark hole. And it worked! Harris raised an huge amount of money for her campaign in its first day — $49 million at least, and I’ve heard up to $70 million — and the GOP messaging was in disarray, limited largely to Trump whining on Truth Social, Stephen Miller freaking out on Fox News, and Mike Johnson trying to suggest that the Democrats can’t do that, it isn’t fair. Which is just what the Democrats wanted out of this. ... The current iteration of the GOP has been mask-off racist and sexist for some time, and Donald Trump sets the tone for the party on this score. Be expecting the whole array of nonsense from them, from dog whistles to flat out racist and sexist shit, said out loud, and also all over the former Twitter by Trump’s pet fascists and/or Russian bots. I guarantee you it will be nothing Kamala Harris has not heard before, but you might see a couple of new ones. The GOP outsourced their policy making to The Heritage Foundation with its Project 2025, which is already deeply unpopular, probably because it’s terrible for anyone who is not already a billionaire cryptofascist with a cross fetish. The GOP can’t go after Harris on policy grounds, and Trump doesn’t do policy anyway. So expect endless variations of she’s an uppity black woman for the next several months. ... Also, Biden has manifestly changed the narrative around both himself and his presidency. I didn’t want him to stop running for re-election, but choosing to do so allows for a “country over self” positioning that’s a hugely effective contrast to Trump’s “I’m running to avoid prison and to get revenge” narrative. It also allows a fresh reframing of the Biden administration’s achievements and accomplishments, and positions Harris to say she will continue them. Biden can lean into the whole “Grandpa Joe” thing now, and have it seen as a positive rather than a negative. ... To put it another way, after eight years, we know what the hard cap is on Trump’s support. We don’t know what the cap is yet for Harris’ support. History does suggest that cap is higher than Trump’s.

[edelgarfield]

god damn it all this Aeor and Calamity lore has me liking Ludinus a lot more than I ever wanted to. I find him so fascinating and compelling as a villain, in the way that he reflects a lot of my favorite characters' flaws particularly from CR2, but CR3 in Bell's Hells at times self-defeating pursuit of power in order to win.

I'm thinking abt a couple quotes from Essek, bc he & Ludinus obviously have so much in common. By Essek's own admission, it was his inability to trust people that made his pursuit of knowledge at the cost of others so appealing, that made him lose sight of the hurt he was causing

In particular the second quote: feeling personally responsible for doing something because of your inability to trust anyone else. I think that encompasses Ludinus's ideology & motivation so well.

The idea of longevity/immortality being a barrier to intimacy is something that gets talked about with respect to elves a lot, and I think Ludinus encompasses that to its logical extreme. Ludinus is one of the last survivors who actually lived on Exandria during the Calamity. Most elves actually fucked off to the Feywild and didn't return until long after the fighting was over. Given Ludinus was a child when Aeor fell, I would assume that means his parents chose to stay on Exandria & he was born afterwards. (Which if that's the case, adds another layer to his resistance against the gods bc he was doomed to live through the war on the surface of Exandria bc of a choice his parents made before he was born.)

All the elves born at the tail end of the Calamity are dead by now, Ludinus lived at least 160ish years of it, and most of the elves born around that time would have been in the Feywild and wouldn't have the experience of seeing what happened to the world. Everyone else who survived the Calamity would have died hundreds of years ago, not to mention that only a third of the population even survived it in the first place. The thing that's saved the PCs (& Essek) time and time again is their bonds with others, having other people to support them & remind them that all the power in the world means nothing if you lose yourself in its pursuit, that there are good things in this world worth living for.

Anyone that might have had the chance to sway Ludinus from his path is long dead, either from the Calamity or old age. Liliana seems to be the only person he feels close to, but they're both bonded through their shared cause. Even other elves, the people with the longest memories, don't understand what living through the Calamity was like. They weren't there.

I know it was mostly a joke when Laudna suggested Ludinus go to therapy, but at the same time where would he go? One of the things that helps PTSD is a sense of community, feeling like there are other people who share your experience, but there isn't anyone that shares Ludinus's experience (Not to mention anything resembling a therapist on Exandria would most likely draw power from a deity, which Ludinus is understandably opposed to).

That sense of isolation is something that comes up again & again among CR PCs. CR2 is the most obvious, but it's something plenty of the CR3 characters have been through as well. Ludinus would have been alone in his trauma for hundreds of years. That's completely incomprehensible to us. He would have watched the world move on and forget something that's so deeply affected him. Any attempt to confide in someone about his anger & pain would often be met with "this is punishment for our hubris" "the gods love us" "don't question their will." The very, very few allies he had would die out over the years until one day he's the last and he would be the last for centuries more. I feel like that sense of isolation, feeling removed from the world, bottling up centuries' worth of emotion would make anyone numb. he withdraws further and further into himself bc he doesn't belong. he works for centuries at removing the gods, becoming more and more desperate as he grows older, without anyone else to provide perspective as his plans grow more and more ruthless. (i also have a theory that this loneliness is part of what makes him sympathetic to predathos but that's a separate post)

Given his age & being the last survivor of the Calamity, I think it's nearly impossible for him to connect with other people. The only thing that gives him any sense of connection or community is his crusade against the gods; he only feels connected to others through their shared pain & anger, which never allow him to move past it. He can't trust anyone bc no one else understands what the gods are capable of like he does, nobody else understands what's at stake. He's the only person remaining who does, which means he's the only one who can do what he believes needs to be done.

There's a sense of duty. He needs to eliminate the gods because he doesn't trust the future inhabitants of Exandria to be able to protect their world. He owes it to all those who've been trampled on by the gods to do what they no longer can. I think he genuinely cares about mortals & he wants to defend them from a threat that he believes only he can see, but I think he cares far more about the thousands of dead he carries on his back than anyone alive. He can't simply live a happy life bc everything that once made his life worth living is gone. He can't let go of that pain & anger and move forward. His trauma is what gives him purpose and meaning; healing from it would be a betrayal to all the people that have suffered beneath the gods.

I don't think he's wrong about the gods, but I think he's seeking freedom from the gods' control, not realizing that he's letting himself be controlled by the dead. I think it's been a very long time since he spared a thought towards actually living. Bell's Hells keeps accusing him of wanting to take the place of the gods, or wanting to be seen as a messiah, but I truly don't think that's it. I don't think he cares about what comes after, if he's even thought about it at all. I don't even think he wants to be a martyr. His goal has never been for him to live in a free world, it's to ensure that there will be a world after he's gone, forever. he thinks if he dies without securing that future, he'll have failed Exandria & all the souls that have ever lived on it.

He's been completely ruthless in his pursuit of power because to him, he is fighting for Exandria's survival. That's exactly the trap BH has fallen into in the past, pursuing power even when it hurts themselves & their friends, losing sight of the actual people they claim to be protecting. Ludinus surrounds himself with terrible people; Otohan and Trent to name two, bc he wants the power they hold without getting his hands dirty himself. but in doing so he immediately removes any possibility of emotional intimacy. the people he works with don't trust him & he doesn't trust them. the one exception is Liliana & unfortunately I think she just met him far too late.

so much of CR is about the importance of feeling connected to other people, how those connections remind us of what's truly important, and keep us grounded, how when we begin to lose sight of ourselves, it's those we're close to that remind us. I think of Caleb & Essek, they both had goals they wanted to pursue, but in finding a place to belong realized those goals wouldn't actually make them happy. Ludinus doesn't want to be happy, he wants to have a purpose, and I know I'm a bleeding heart, but I think there is something incredibly tragic in someone who can't even imagine what it would be like to live a happy life.

I think of Fjord & Percy & Imogen & Laudna & Dorian, people who nearly lost themselves in pursuit of power, but chose to turn away because living for their friends was more important that dying for the world. Ludinus is the pendulum swinging in the other direction. It's incredibly tragic bc imo his intentions are genuinely good; he's arrogant and selfish and ruthless but i think he truly does want to protect Exandria.

I think there was a point in the past where someone could have reached him & he could have chosen a different path. i don't even think he would have necessarily had to give up his goal of removing the gods. if he had other people working alongside him instead of under him, who knows what he could've come up with? if he had people to pass the torch onto once he was gone, maybe he would feel like there was time to come up with a solution besides Predathos.

But he doesn't and he can't trust anyone bc no one else believes in his cause as fervently as he does. he can't trust anyone else to make the sacrifices he's willing to make so he never tries. He denies himself the aid & perspective & closeness that comes with trusting someone and becomes further and further entrenched in his mission to remove the gods at any cost. He's the only one alive left to remember the trauma of the Calamity: he has to carry all of it because no one else can.

[rusted-fairy-wings]

"So much has changed, yet some things remain the same" (Ninjago Oneshot)

I found myself really craving some angst and Lloyd coming to terms with growing up so fast, so I wrote a short piece taking place a couple days after "Child's Play". I hope whoever reads it enjoys :) (Heavy emphasis on the Kai/Lloyd brother dynamic and found family because it's peak)

So much has changed, yet some things remain the same:

Steam rose from the bowls filled to the brim with hot noodle soup. A lingering smell of herbs and chicken hung in the air. The fire crackled softly in the background. The light and warmth this fire offered bathed those who sat at the table in its comfort. Yet, a somber mood hung in the air. All were seated at the table that night—five people who had trained and fought together, five people who would do anything to keep each other safe, four ninja and one samurai. Despite the warm food and fire, the somber mood remained, for there was one missing from the table.

At first nobody spoke. It had been like this for a while now. “He needs time and space to get used to this” they had all agreed. But now that a couple days had passed, the silence was deafening. The sixth among them had only emerged from his room to grab food when he thought the others couldn’t see, food which he took to his room and ate alone. 

Finally, the samurai broke the silence when she stated firmly, “Somebody needs to say it. What are we going to do about Lloyd?”

Cole’s shoulders slumped in relief at not being the one to start the conversation when he quickly agreed, “Nya’s right. It’s not like him. He always used to help me or Zane in the kitchen when either of us cooked. I tried to offer, but he didn’t even answer when I asked outside his door.”

Zane nodded at this, saying, “He has found helping me or Cole in the kitchen enjoyable since his arrival. It is… strange to cook alone now.”

Stirring his soup and not looking at anyone in particular as he spoke, Jay added, “He hasn’t even played video games with me. He was so convinced that he’d beat my high scores some day—not like that would happen—but now he doesn’t try anymore.”

“Everything is strange now. We need to help him,” Nya sighed. “He hasn’t spent time with me either… not with any of us.  I just—we’re all that he has. Sensei has been away, and that means the people at this table are the only ones who can help him.” There was one ninja who hadn’t spoken at the table. Cole and Nya both gave him confused glances. Usually the fire ninja always spoke his mind. Usually, if he had an opinion, they all knew about it. Usually, he was the one of the fastest eaters at the table, but tonight his bowl looked as if it hadn’t been touched.

Kai finally glanced up, not having so much as looked at the others the whole meal. 

“What are your thoughts, Kai?” Zane asked. “We all know you and Lloyd have a stronger connection.”

And it was that stronger connection that had kept Kai quieter than ever before, quieter since Lloyd had retired to his room and not come out. His stomach churned with worry in a way it hadn’t since Nya had been kidnapped. He wasn’t sure when it had happened—when babysitting Lloyd had turned to spending time with Lloyd, when dealing with Lloyd had turned to helping Lloyd, when being stuck with Lloyd had turned to being there for Lloyd. But it had. Training him and watching over him had gone from a chore he dreaded to moments he cherished. 

Kai stood up, knowing he was too nauseous to eat the meal Cole had worked so hard on as he said, “I’ll go talk to him. We’ve given him time, but my sister is right. We should do something.”

“Do you desire us to accompany you?” Zane asked as Kai passed his bowl to Cole who immediately began to eat from it.

“No, I’ll go on my own.” Kai answered firmly. “Maybe I can help him.”

“If you’re sure, Buddy,” Jay said with a shrug. “But if you do change your mind, we got yours and Lloyd’s backs.”

Kai nodded and left the others, walking down the quiet hall. He walked to one door in particular, one he’d knocked upon many times to remind a reluctant Lloyd that yes it was time for training again because yes he had to do it every day. But there’d been none of that lately.

Kai knocked loudly, and of course the boy behind the door didn’t answer.

“Lloyd!” Kai shouted. “I know you’re in there. Open the door. I need to talk to you.”

There was silence. Kai stood there for a few moments, and just as he was about to knock more forcefully, he heard a voice he hadn’t in days.

“It’s unlocked.”

The door creaked open to a gloomy, dim room. A worried pang punched Kai in the gut when he saw Lloyd sitting there, his shoulders hunched, his back to him, on the edge of his bed. His hair was greasy and disheveled, not unlike how it had looked when they first took him in. Even without seeing his face, Kai could sense the gloom radiating off him.

And of course, it was jarring to see Lloyd at all. He was so much taller. His hair was longer and had developed a slight waviness. All his baby fat had melted away. 

Kai walked the short distance across the room and sat next to Lloyd who had no reaction to this at all. When Kai glimpsed his face, his green eyes were dim with pronounced dark circles beneath them. 

“You gonna talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” Lloyd replied, his voice deeper than Kai was accustomed to. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

Kai rolled his eyes and said, “Now you’re just lying, Lloyd. Come on.”

Lloyd finally looked at Kai when he repeated, “There’s nothing to talk about. I’m just getting used to—” he gestured down at himself and said, “This.”

Kai opened his mouth to speak, but Lloyd cut him off when he continued, his voice strained, “It was my choice. I chose this. There’s nothing to talk about. I’m just older. It’s fine.”

“Listen to me, Kid,” Kai said, his words harsh but his touch gentle when he set his hand on Lloyd’s shoulder. “You may have chosen to use that tea. But that wasn’t a real choice, Lloyd. We were going to die if you didn’t. You were saving all of us. You were making the only choice you thought we’d survive. It’s not a choice you would’ve ever made if our lives weren’t in jeopardy.”

Lloyd’s hand gripped the blanket he sat upon as Kai looked at him, a boy now appearing only a couple years younger than him who had been a little kid mere days ago. 

“I just—it doesn’t matter. I’m the green ninja. I have to be strong if I’m going to face my dad one day. I’m grown up now… I need to train harder than ever. I need to face the facts and not think about it.”

“Because you’ve been doing just that right? Training like crazy? Eating enough to keep yourself strong? Not thinking about what happened?”

Lloyd’s eyes welled up with tears that he desperately tried to blink away.

“Let it out, Lloyd. I think most people would if they were in your situation.”

“No, I’m not a kid anymore. I can’t cry,” he answered, his voice tight, the words forced.

Kai looked him in the eyes and said, “Lloyd, you were nine two days ago. You sacrificed years of childhood and being a kid you won’t ever get back. It’s okay to cry.”

“I’m too old for that,” Lloyd whispered.

But then the tears began to fall, and his whole body shook with the force of his sobbing. Without hesitation, Kai hugged him as tight as he could, not caring for the tears soaking his uniform.

“No, you’re not, Lloyd. When my sister was kidnapped and I first became a ninja… that night I cried harder than I probably ever had. The others didn’t hear or see—I barely knew them then, so I hid it. But I was worried sick about Nya. All I wanted was for her to have never been taken, to be back in our father’s shop, for things to be normal. Even the strongest ninja cries.”

Neither of them spoke for several minutes as Lloyd let out all the emotions he’d been forcing down in the name of growing up. And even though Lloyd was now so much closer to his age, Kai still let him hug him as tightly as he had when he was a kid.

“See, tell me I’m right. Feels better, huh?”

Lloyd nodded slowly, wiping his eyes as he broke the hug.

“I’m just… in the moment I didn’t think about what would actually happen to me. That monster had us cornered, and… I could finally help you guys like you helped me. You gave me a home—I haven’t really had one before.”

“Kid, so long as the others and I have a roof over us to offer, we’ll give it to you. I promise.”

Lloyd didn’t speak, but his eyes were full of such genuine gratitude it tugged at Kai’s heartstrings. He couldn’t believe how much he’d hated this kid, how much his presence had annoyed him. 

After a long pause, Lloyd hesitantly asked, “Kai?”

“Yeah, Kid?”

“What do I even do now?”

“What do you mean?”

The green ninja glanced away from Kai as he stared at the wooden floor beneath him, not quite able to articulate his thoughts and feelings. Kai waited several moments for him to speak, setting his hand on his shoulder in reassurance. 

“I–I don’t understand what to do besides train. I’m not a kid, so I can’t do kid stuff like read my comics or have my favorite food be candy or–”

Kai interrupted harshly, “Of course you can! It’s not like your Sensei’s age, Lloyd.”

“But you and Nya and everyone seem so… mature and responsible. Now that I’m like you guys, I need to be like that too.”

Kai couldn’t help but chuckle. Lloyd glared at him.

“Look, Lloyd,” Kai said with a grin. “There’s a lot you haven’t seen or noticed because we were trying to set a good example for you, or sometimes you just weren’t paying attention. Like when you got close to beating Jay in his favorite game, you didn’t hear Jay ranting about it after or notice how overly competitive he got. And you think you’ve got a sweet tooth with candy? You should see how Cole acts around cake. Don’t tell her I told you, but Nya still has all her childhood stuffies under her bed. And you haven’t ever seen Zane’s funny switch, but even he has it in him.”

Lloyd laughed and asked, “Zane has a what?”

“We’ll show you sometime,” Kai answered, still grinning ear to ear. 

“It’s just that… you guys seemed so serious when we trained.”

“Because that’s what you needed, Lloyd. And we needed you to take us seriously as your mentors.”

But just as swiftly as it had come, Lloyd’s smile faded.

“What is it?”

Lloyd glanced at Kai uncertainly, fidgeting with the hem of his black shirt as he asked, “Promise you won’t laugh at me?”

Kai nodded.

“I–” Lloyd began hesitantly, then pausing for a second. “Now that things are different… I mean, I know I’m not a kid anymore, but… will you and everyone else still… I don’t know. Train me? Help me?”

Kai raised an eyebrow and answered, “That’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever asked me. Of course we will. Why wouldn’t we?”

“It’s just that now that I’m older, maybe I’m not supposed to need it. But I'm not ready, Kai. I’m not ready to face my father, and… I still need you. Not just to train me. Kai, you’ve been helping me so much… you’ve spent so much time with me and looked after me. Nobody’s done that for me before. And—” his eyes welled up with tears once more. “I’m not ready to let it go.”

Shocked that Lloyd would ever have such a thought, Kai nearly snapped out the words, “Lloyd, I will always be there for you. I swear it. Growing up doesn’t mean we stop needing the people around us… sometimes we need them even more. That’s how family is, Lloyd. You never stop needing each other in your lives. What that looks like may change, but those bonds remain. You’re my brother now, Lloyd. I will never leave you, and I will be here for you as long as you want me to be.”

“Do you really mean that?” the younger ninja whispered, a few stray tears streaming down his cheeks. 

“Of course I do,” Kai answered fiercely. 

Lloyd hugged him tightly again, tighter than ever before and said softly, “Thank you.”

“No need for that, Kid. I love ya.”

“I love you too.”

And after a few minutes had passed, and the younger brother had regained his composure, Kai said, “Now quit moping in your room. We’ve all missed you. Come eat dinner with us before you waste away completely.”

Lloyd managed a smile and nodded.

Victorious and a little smug, Kai led the young green ninja to the dining room. And everyone there grinned when they saw him finally emerge again.

Cole got up and spooned a large bowl full of the soup for Lloyd as he and Kai sat at the table. 

And as the green ninja sat there, hearing everyone sound so genuinely happy to see him, he couldn’t help but grin broadly. He mouthed a thank you to Kai who ruffled his hair affectionately. 

Although so much was different now, a new life and joy encompassed them that night. The green ninja spent time with his family late into the night. Lloyd helped Zane with the dishes and couldn’t help but laugh when he noticed Cole shoveling leftover cake into his mouth as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks. When he and Jay played games, he didn’t hesitate to pettily argue and banter with him as they both tried to best the other. Nya rolled her eyes at this, but her affectionate smile revealed it all. And after dinner and cleaning up and video games, Lloyd sat next to Kai on the couch as he and the others talked for hours. 

And that night, Lloyd went to bed perhaps the most content he’d ever been, the last thought before he fell asleep echoing in his mind:

I finally belong.

[goldennikko]

MOON FLOWER — huh yunjin ; nakamura kazuha

summary : six 11ths and three moons.

pairing : huh yunjin x 6th member!reader ; nakamura kazuha x 6th member!reader

tags : f!reader ; hanahaki!au ; idol!au ; reader is '01 liner ; implied iz*one disbandment ; former iz*one!reader ; mentions of blood ; timeline (dates and its moons) might not be accurate

requested: ✘

word count : 6.3k

⚠ please refer to the tags above first and DO NOT PROCEED if you find it triggering ⚠

years ago, when kazuha was asked out of boredom by a random person what her ideal type was and what qualities she found attractive in someone, she blanked out on her. kazuha, who was young and innocent at the time, recalls staring at the girl while blinking, dumbfounded and clueless, thinking how stupid that question was.

love wasn't something she needed at the time. she had wondered how it would feel. she was curious as to who would make her feel that way. she wondered if anyone would ever love her like her parents or the elderly couple in front of their house. nonetheless, all thoughts of love were pushed to the back of her mind by ballet and, eventually, her training.

kazuha was so focused on making her debut that she forgot about the question. she had forgotten about herself, her own desires, and her curiosity, all of which were supposed to be about love. all she wanted to do was make her debut alongside yunjin and eunchae. she danced as if her life was at stake. she kept singing until her throat hurt. she trained as if the world were coming to an end. kazuha never thought about the question again, her mind preoccupied with her soon-to-be idol life.

that was until the day before their debut, when they were introduced to three more members who would round out their lineup. they were not ordinary members, to be sure. they were idols, former idols of the recently disbanded group of produce, whose faces and names she recognized from seeing them everywhere, especially in japan.

however, kazuha never expected to be interested in a particular girl.

chaewon was the first to enter the room, followed by sakura, who were both greeted by yunjin, an ex-produce participant. the room was filled with excited yells and disbelieving gasps, mostly from yunjin, but kazuha's gaze was fixed on someone outside the door.

the ballerina watched, her heart pounding violently against her ribcage and her palms turning clammy, as the girl's eyes wrinkled happily while talking to someone, who kazuha couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman because her ears tuned out every single noise. kazuha's attention was already drawn by a simple eye smile, and she couldn't imagine what would happen if the mask covering the girl's lower face was removed.

would she be blinded?

would she melt?

"y/n!"

when you heard the familiar voice scream your name, you dropped your conversation with the man and whipped your head, ready to greet the american, but yunjin slammed into you, knocking the air out of your lungs as she wrapped her arms around your waist and buried her face in your neck, which was difficult because you were shorter than her, but yunjin made it work.

"jennifer huh." you teasingly poked her sides, causing her to squirm in your embrace.

"stop! stop that!" yunjin laughed loudly and drew away from you, her face flushed.

even from a distance, kazuha could feel herself slowly melting into a puddle and her knees weakening as she watched you throw your head back in delight, eyes crinkled at the way yunjin glared at you with her arms crossed sulkily. as cliche as it may sound, it felt as if the world slowed down just so kazuha could stare at you longer and enjoy the sound of your laugh.

if someone saw kazuha staring at you like that, they'd think she was in love.

if the old couple who lived in front of her house in japan could see her right now, they would notice the heart eyes she was wearing because it was the same look they gave each other.

if her parents saw her now, they would mock her for not acknowledging love before and now visibly falling for someone she doesn't even know.

putting a hand on her chest, kazuha felt her heart pounding wildly against her palm, as if she was directly touching her heart. the ballerina took deep breaths in and out to calm herself, but she panicked when she saw yunjin grab your wrist and pull you to where she stood.

"y/n/n, meet kazuha. zuha, this is y/n/n!"

kazuha noticed your soft gaze at yunjin, which the american also noticed and blushed visibly at. the ballerina, on the other hand, ignored it as you finally looked at her with an eye smile and deep bow.

"it's nice to meet you, kazuha."

if your voice from afar was enough to melt her heart, what more now that you're speaking directly to her? now that the eye smile she immediately fell for the moment the door opened was directed at her?

as she stared at you, kazuha felt like she was on cloud nine, which yunjin mistook for her being starstruck by your beauty up close, because yunjin felt the same way when she first met you on produce.

when she noticed yunjin grinning widely out of the corner of her eye, kazuha scrambled to return your bow deeper than the one you gave her, causing you to giggle.

"it's nice to meet you, too!" kazuha stammered, japanese and korean mingling in her sentence, making you laugh even harder in admiration. your eyes became crescent once more, making Kazuha flush beneath your gaze.

"i hope we get along well, kazuha."

she averted her gaze by fiddling with her thumbs. "i hope so, too, unnie."

since then, you've decided to look after the ostensibly extroverted but shy girl. you had no idea what it was about nakamura kazuha.

perhaps it was the way she avoided your gaze whenever you looked at her. perhaps it was the way she stammered while speaking to you. perhaps it was her endearing switch from korean to japanese when she was struggling.

maybe it was the way she turned to you for help on whatever it was; you were always there to help her whenever you saw her struggling, albeit hesitant to ask for your assistance, and most of the time you would initiate, but sometimes she'd get the courage to ask.

or maybe because she's… kazuha. 

she's nakamura kazuha.

however, there was this one time you had with the ballerina. 

you recall walking home from the company building. it was late because you stayed behind to speak with the manager, and you remembered how the stars were scattered across the night sky as your eyes were trained up on the moon, a third quarter moon, which you always believed symbolized releasing the habits or actions that bind you and letting go to prevent further harm.

you frowned and averted your gaze to your palms before your attention was drawn to the familiar ringtone that managed to drown out the speeding cars and annoying honks. your brow furrowed in concern as you stared at yunjin's name flashing across the screen of your phone.

jen-jen

after pressing the green button, you brought your phone to your ear and opened your mouth to speak, but the american beat you to it, her voice filled with panic and worry as she yelled your name, relieved that you answered. there were panicked chatters in the background, but you couldn't understand what they were saying because your attention was focused on yunjin's voice.

"y/n/n, is zuha with you?"

something occurred to you, and you removed your phone from your ear to check the date, april 11th, your eyes widening in surprise. you quickly said goodbye to yunjin, the american yelling after you, but you cut the call and began sprinting.

panicked thoughts raced through your mind. you were so preoccupied with it that a car almost ran you over as you crossed the road, and the driver's annoyed but worried yelling echoed through the otherwise empty road, to which you responded with an apology and a quick bow of the head before proceeding.

soon enough, as you tried to ignore the burning in your legs from pushing yourself through the exhaustion, you arrived at the familiar park. there was no one around and it was empty, but you spun and looked until you saw a silhouette walking past a tree. you waited for the person to appear and stand in the moonlight, and you visibly relaxed as the moonlight illuminated the familiar face of your japanese ballerina.

"zuha!"

kazuha jumped, not expecting to see anyone in the park at that hour, and even more so when she saw the familiar hoodie you were wearing. you were running, your brow furrowed in worry, and when you got to where she was standing next to the tree, you threw your arms around her shoulders, knocking the air out of her lungs and spreading the familiar hot pink tint across her cheeks..

"unnie…?"

kazuha stood frozen, unsure what to do at first, but reveling in the way your familiar warmth wrapped around her like a blanket. although, once she had calmed down her racing heart, she wrapped her arms around your waist and buried her face in your shoulder.

"what are you doing here?" kazuha murmured against the fabric of your hoodie, your perfume filling her nose, the softness and comforting scent causing her to bury herself further in your embrace as she sought the sensation of what she was currently missing.

"it's the 11th." you murmured against  her hair.

as her grip on you tightened, tears welled up in kazuha's eyes. as the soft but cold night breeze caused your hair to fly, you swayed her.

"you remembered." the ballerina whispered, holding back a sob.

you squeezed her and kissed her on the crown of her head. you recall kazuha telling you one time when you stayed up late with her that the 11th was the date when she went out with her parents to have fun and eat. It was a tradition that kazuha never broke. not until she had to fly to seoul to train to be an idol, and she had been missing the tradition ever since.

you  frowned. "i forgot, zuha i was so preoccupied with—"

kazuha shook her head, causing you to quickly close your mouth to allow the younger girl to speak. "i don't care. you're here, you're here with me."

when she felt you nod against her, she sighed, relief washing over her. the star-studded night sky accompanied by the moon illuminating the two of you in the park where no one else could bother you felt perfect to her. 

not the coaches, ceo, or members. 

nobody but the two of you. 

wrapped up in your embrace, you gave her the missing feeling she was looking for.

home.

you felt like home.

soon after, everyone was thrust into the spotlight, gaining fans and popularity from all over the world as a group and as individuals. the group's hard work always paid off, as the schedule became increasingly hectic, with almost no breaks in between.

as the third oldest in the group, you wanted to make everyone feel at ease and satisfied. so you took the initiative to look after the members both at work and in the dorms.

you mostly focused on eunchae because she was the youngest and needed your attention the most, and you provided her with the family support she required. not that the other girls didn't do the same for her, but she preferred your comfort over theirs.

when you weren't looking after eunchae, you were either with yunjin or kazuha. you spend more time with yunjin these days because you're partnered up with her, but you spend the most time with kazuha off camera to make sure she can catch up with her korean and just to feel her presence.

and there you were, cooking eunchae's favorite dish while she patiently waited in your room, playing with your room. she reminded you of your nephews and nieces, who would appear out of nowhere whenever you pulled out your phone, asking if you had a game on it. after that, you'd download a game so they could watch you play it.

you were chuckling at the memory when you failed to notice someone entering the kitchen and jumped in surprise when a pair of arms slithered around your waist, a chin resting on your shoulder.

"what are you laughing about?"

when yunjin's voice sounded right next to your ear, you relaxed, her lips brushing against your skin as she leaned against you to watch you stir. you brought a hand up to pat her cheek as a greeting and continued what you were doing.

"just remembered the little shits back at home, jen." you murmured, too preoccupied with the dish to notice yunjin staring at the side of your face, her eyelashes brushing against her own skin as her eyelids fluttered lightly.

yunjin hummed. "i'm home."

you turned around in her embrace and leaned against the marbled counter as you turned off the stove. you scrunched your nose and squished her puffy cheeks, squealing at the sight of her tiredly pouting at you.

"welcome home. how was it?" you queried.

yunjin scowled at the question, recalling how her day went. "terrible. got stuck in traffic and was late to the photoshoot, annoying man on set, list goes on."

you could tell yunjin was tired by the way she slurred her words as if drunk, and the brevity of her sentences indicated how irritated she was, silently letting you know she didn't want to talk about it any further. as a result, you nodded silently and apologized, causing her to bury her face in your neck and sigh, her hot breath tickling your skin.

"don't you want to rest?" you asked.

yunjin shook her head. "i need to tell you something first."

you hummed and remained silent, your hand caressing her nape and encouraging her to talk about it. she remained silent for the first five minutes, gathering her thoughts and composing herself, breathing in and out before finally speaking.

"i like you."

yunjin felt your shoulders tensing and the way your thumb stopped on her nape, your touch barely there out of shock, causing her to close her eyes and tighten her grip around your waist, afraid you'd push her away. she relaxed, however, when she felt your cold touch return to her nape.

"since when?" you murmured against her hair.

"since produce."

you huffed a laugh. "that long, huh?"

yunjin nodded weakly against your shoulder in response, and you could tell she was embarrassed.

"i see."

the american looked at you in confusion. "i see?"

you softened your eyes and smiled as you hummed quietly and scanned her features. when you let go of her nape to hold her chin, your thumb caressed her bottom lip, yunjin flushed. you waited for her to push you away, but she didn't and instead stared at you in anticipation, her previously tired eyes now filled with hope.

so you captured her lips, missing the gasp from someone coming around the corner.

kazuha stood outside the kitchen, hoping to get some water. she was frozen, numb, and cold all at once. the ballerina's heart dropped to her stomach, and each weak pump delivered a gut-wrenching ache. crystal tears streamed down her cheeks as her lips quivered, trying not to sob out loud right then and there.

kazuha quickly left and ran upstairs as quietly as she could when she saw you about to open your eyes. her weak knees buckling, she couldn't make it to her room and simply slid down against the wall once she reached the top of the stairs, one hand clamped against her lips to muffle the sobs and her other hand punching her chest to try to relieve the unbearable pain.

her mind replayed the kiss as if taunting her false hope of you liking her back, her eyes blankly staring at the wall across her, tears streaming down her cheeks.

minutes seemed to stretch into hours. kazuha didn't move from there. heartbreak hurt more than all of her bruises and scratches from dancing and practicing. she had no motivation to move, but when she heard chatter downstairs, she pushed herself up and returned to the comfort of her room, which, unfortunately, wasn't enough to keep her heart from breaking into pieces as the memory replayed in her head.

curled up in her bed, the ballerina cried. her throat would hurt more the next day as a result of the lack of water, especially since she cried.

her gaze was drawn to the picture frames on her bedside table, one of which held a photograph of the two of you before your debut, and she felt her lungs fill up with something unfamiliar and unsettling, and her throat closed up before a loud cough echoed in her room, one hand automatically covering her mouth as it wracked her entire body forward.

kazuha's eyes widened in surprise as she paused for a second before removing her clenched hand from her mouth. when she opened it, more tears fell onto the pillows as she noticed a single white petal resting on her palm.

"hanahaki…" kazuha murmured.

kazuha wanted to despise you, but she couldn't just because you loved someone. you were human, and you could love. unfortunately, it wasn't her.

wrapping her arms around herself, kazuha curled further into herself, muffled the sobs that came out of her mouth, and fell asleep with the white petal next to her.

kazuha avoided you like the plague for the next few days and weeks. it hurt her to see you always with yunjin, but she also had to hide her disease from everyone, especially you, because you were the most observant of all, and one word from you and kazuha would let a white petal slip out of her mouth. 

that was the extent of your influence over her. yunjin, on the other hand, wielded power over you.

when you were being the caring girlfriend you were to yunjin, the ballerina was always by your side. kazuha watched you as you cared for the american. she noticed how much you laughed around her. she noticed how you looked at yunjin as if she were the center of the universe.

kazuha was struggling the entire time. the heartache and the petals in her lungs made it difficult for her to breathe, especially when her gaze was on you. she had to turn around or dash to the nearest bathroom to cough out the petals that were caressing her throat. after that, kazuha would find herself staring in the mirror at her own tired eyes, puffy and red from the tears that had leaked out while coughing violently against the sink.

"is this what love should be like?"

you, on the other hand, were aware of kazuha's unusual behavior. even if your focus was on yunjin, you always noticed her and kept an eye on her to make sure she was okay. you couldn't spend as much time with the ballerina as you wanted because yunjin loved all of your attention, and you liked hanging out with the american, so you had no choice.

but you knew what day it was tomorrow, june 11th, and you'd make sure to make it up to her.

"unnie?"

previously occupied by the pot on the stove, you turned around as you heard the soft familiar small voice from behind and your eyes lit up when you saw kazuha. she had just woken up from her nap and the familiar smell of her favorite japanese dish still in the making entered her nose, causing her to immediately leave her spot from the couch in the living room and her heart to stammer uncontrollably in her chest when she saw you in front of the stove.

you gave her a soft smile. "hey, you're awake, zuha."

when kazuha approached, you tapped her chin, causing her to flush, temporarily forgetting about yunjin, who went to bed early and understood your tradition with kazuha.

"is that…?" kazuha murmured against your shoulder, pushing back down the petals in her throat.

you hummed. "your favorite."

there was silence between the two of you. apart from the occasional mindless hum of a song from you, it was completely silent. kazuha simply stood behind you, stepping away when you needed to move, but following you like a lost puppy. she stood there silently watching you, a yawn escaping her, and hesitated at her sudden thought, but gave in.

when you felt a weight against your back, you turned your head and saw half of kazuha's face peeking over your shoulders, her nose buried in your sweater, quietly inhaling your scent. it was wrong to even touch you as her lungs tightened, the petals yearning to push against her throat. she swallowed hard and clung to the back of your sweater, relishing the moment for the time being.

just like she did that april 11th night in the park.

why did you have to feel like home to her when she wasn't home to you?

"y/n/n unnie." kazuha called out your name mindlessly as she turned her head toward the living room, where she noticed the window letting in moonlight.

"yes, zuha?"

"what is the first quarter moon to you, unnie?" kazuha queried, knowing your love for the moon.

"it means to take action, zuha. that no matter what problem or challenge you face, you must not waiver and push forward." your voice was so passionate that kazuha melted against the warmth of your back, pressing the side of her face deeper into the fabric of your sweater. 

"taking action could also mean that whatever hesitations you have, you should definitely let them go and just do whatever it is that you want." you added before falling silent, allowing the japanese to process it.

as she stared at the moon, kazuha remained silent. oh, how she wished she could take action. kazuha wished she could tell you. she wishes she could tell you before yunjin. kazuha wanted to be selfish, but she let her hesitations hold her back, and as a result, you were now in the arms of someone else.

"thank you, unnie." kazuha whispered.

you chuckled. "for what?"

"for all of this." she responded, her throat closing up as she considered saying the phrase. she reached up and wrapped her fingers around her neck, as if it would help push down the petals that were scratching her throat.

"i love you, unnie."

"of course, my zuha."

you pushed the door to your room open, stepped inside, and laughed when you saw yunjin laying on your bed like a starfish. when the door squeaked lightly in refusal, the american perked up and grinned brightly.

"y/n!"

"hey, yunjin-ie." you softly whispered before closing the door and joining the girl. you were hovering above the american, and she wrapped her arms around your shoulders, sucking in a breath when you rested your forehead against hers, your eyes lightly fluttering.

"how is zuha?"

"just feeling homesick. it's the 11th, remember?"

yunjin nodded against you, causing you to look at her and lightly smile. the american returned it, hers smaller than yours, as she scrutinized every detail of your face. from your half-closed eyes, to your nose brushing against hers, to your plump lips that are both close and far.

she couldn't figure out why you were so close yet so far away.

"i love you, y/n/n."

you grinned, sleep seeping into your veins, and leaned in to capture her lips, your fingertips caressing the hotness of her cheeks and the length of her neck.

"mhm. show me?"

violent coughs wracked kazuha's body as she leaned forward into the sink, her knuckles white from gripping the corner so tightly to keep herself steady. white petals fell from her mouth and into the sink, all of which had previously been pure white, but now their purity had been tainted by the crimson red liquid.

"i'm getting worse." kazuha murmured, noticing a small stem out of the corner of her eye.

she picked it up and turned it around as if she were a scientist inspecting an experiment. the only difference was that she wore the expression of an experiment rather than the twinkling eyes of a scientist. she returned her gaze to the mirror after discarding the blood-splattered stem, where she saw herself pathetically sobbing her heart out.

"unnie didn't say it back…"

days became weeks, and weeks became months. you spent the next three 11th with kazuha, which she enjoyed but despised because every time your fiery touch lit up her entire being, the flowers in her lungs bloomed painfully.

after every painfully memorable 11th with you, the ballerina would find herself in the cold four white walls of the bathroom, the amount of petals, stem, and blood in the sink and bin increasing. she wanted to despise you because she knew that even if you didn't miss your tradition with the ballerina, you'd end up back in yunjin's arms.

right now, yunjin sat in the passenger seat, her head against the window, as her manager drove her back to the dorm. the song on the radio filled the air between them, keeping the american from falling asleep. she looked down at her phone for a moment before returning her gaze to the moon in the night sky.

a low chuckle could be heard next to her, and yujin looked at her manager. "missing her?"

yunjin clicked her tongue playfully, but the complaint that followed expressed her genuine displeasure with the situation. "why did y/n/n have to be the one sent to paris?"

"because your girlfriend is the most well-known member of your group in france. it's similar to how sakura is currently the most well-known in japan."

you won't be able to do your tradition with kazuha tonight, october 11th, because you were sent to paris for a schedule ever since last week, so yunjin was concerned when she heard from sakura that the ballerina wouldn't leave her room. so she was returning to the dorm at chaewon's request, with threats directed at their manager, which she hadn't told yunjin or eunchae about, but sakura was well aware of.

furthermore, you had to miss your five-month anniversary. yunjin, on the other hand, had received a package with her name on it earlier this morning, which was filled with gifts, some handmade, most recently purchased in paris, and the hoodie she had requested since last month. there was also a box for kazuha, but yunjin didn't see her take it because she had a schedule.

yunjin merely grumbled in response and crossed her arms childishly to combat the cold blow of the ac in front of her, finding the moon in the night sky once more. she finally figured out what moon it was after a brief internal conflict.

waning crescent moon.

yunjin recalled what that moon meant to you. you told her that the night after you kissed her, when you were both in her bed, playing with each other's hands. you stated that it represented surrender. the moon was telling you to rest and recuperate. that it is normal to feel empty at times.

"how long have you two been together?" the man queried with a hum. "6 months?"

yunjin shook her head. "only 5 months, oppa. we got together on may 11."

the man's surprised expression caused yunjin to furrow her brow in response, and she was about to ask him what was wrong, but he beat her to it and answered her unspoken question, which only added to her confusion.

"i thought you got together on april 11?" he tilted his head, disappointment swimming in his eyes.

yunjin looked at him, perplexed. yunjin could tell his lips were pressed in a thin line even though he was wearing a mask over the lower half of his face. the only problem was that yunjin had no idea what was going on or what he meant. she, however, remained silent and listened to him as he whispered to himself.

"so she held back and prolonged it?"

his words sent yunjin into a tailspin, but she couldn't question him about it because his phone rang just as the car came to a stop in front of the dorm. as he quickly answered the call, a familiar name of a superior uttered into the quiet atmosphere of the car, the american got out of the car and, despite her confusion, headed straight to kazuha's room.

yunjin stopped in front of the ballerina's door and rapped her knuckles against the door, pushing back the running confused thoughts in the back of her mind and replacing them with worry for kazuha.

"zuha?" yunjin called out loud so the ballerina could hear her, but she received no response. she wrapped her fingers around the cold knob and tried to turn it, but it was locked, prompting a worried frown. 

"zuha, it's me. because y/n/n isn't here, may i accompany you for the time being?"

no response.

"zuha?"

still no response.

"zuha, come on. please open the door. it's just me."

with no response from the ballerina even after yunjin's fourth call, not even a single movement heard from behind the wooden door, yunjin's concern grew and her heart beat nervously against her chest as she ran to get the spare key you had told her you had hidden in your room. yunjin's hands shook as she opened your drawer, dropping a few keys and other items before finding kazuha's key. 

cursing at the mess she'd made, yunjin ran back to kazuha's room as she passed by sakura's door opening and sakura herself stepping out.

"yunjin?"

yunjin ignored the older girl and struggled to fit the key into the hole, her hand shaking as she did so, causing her to curse again, before pushing the door open.

however, at the sight that greeted her, she let out a loud gasp.

a pool of red crimson liquid covered the floors, with red-tainted white petals swimming in it and multiple cut stems and broken branches poking out here and there, and there kazuha laid next to the bloody mess in a fetal position, a trail of blood drew a line from the corner of her lips down to her cheeks, a familiar small white box nearby has become tainted with blood, and a familiar hoodie was held securely in kazuha's embrace.

yunjin couldn't move as if the world had stopped, her mind racing with conflicting thoughts. sakura, who was just behind her, reacted quickly and screamed for chaewon's name before sprinting to cradle kazuha in her arms, not caring if the ballerina's blood got onto her skin and nightwear. yunjin stood there in disbelief, watching.

hanahaki? 

everything happened far too quickly. the ambulance arrived quickly, thanks to chaewon dialing the emergency number, and soon enough, yunjin was being dragged back to the car of their manager, who had thankfully remained in front of the dorm because he was still talking to his superior.

since when?

yunjin was crying as she stared at the ambulance in front of them. even though she was terrified and perplexed, the american held the maknae tightly in her arms because you weren't there to support eunchae and everyone else.

you. 

oh, you. 

you were going to go insane once you found out about kazuha's current condition whilst you were across the world at the moment, and yunjin was afraid of what you were going to say about her freezing up in front of your beloved ballerina on the verge of death.

however, yunjin frowned as another thought entered her mind.

but who?

"we need y/n back here in seoul now!"

yunjin's head whipped, almost giving herself whiplash, to their manager, who was driving fast but cautiously, when she heard him mention your name while on the phone with someone, who happened to be the manager you're currently with in paris.

huh?

their manager yelled into the phone, worried and his patience dwindling. "kazuha has hanahaki! we need y/n back! right. now!"

y/n?

yunjin looked at him blankly, and he returned her gaze with an apologetic one of his own. with questions racing through her mind, yunjin missed the sharp turn that brought the hospital into view. yunjin was frozen and numb, not feeling the car stop or sakura pulling her out of the car and into the hospital, trailing kazuha and the nurses.

y/n? why y/n? why her?

yunjin looked at kazuha, your hoodie still in her grasp, the ballerina refusing to let go even if she was unconscious. yunjin examined kazuha's face as the nurses pushed the bed forward, her skin pale due to the lack of blood and warmth to her cheeks.

don't tell me… it's y/n? do you mean my girlfriend's… the one who doesn't reciprocate kazuha's feelings?

in that brief moment, kazuha regained consciousness, and the japanese managed to catch the waning crescent moon peeking through, mind racing with the thought of your smile and loving eyes, before her gaze was drawn to yunjin's, who was wide-eyed as she watched the younger girl mouth some words, her voice gone due to the disease that had taken over her lungs and throat.

"i'm sorry, yunjin unnie."

when kazuha's eyes fell shut after that, tears filled yunjin's eyes once more, the other members screaming at her to stay awake, but she paid no attention and fell back into the nothingness of the dark.

"KAZUHA!"

seconds turned into minutes, and minutes turned into hours. they seemed to spend an eternity waiting outside the operating room while the doctors tried to stabilize kazuha. yunjin hugged herself as she leaned against the wall, mind blank and body numb.

kazuha likes—

no.

kazuha loves y/n.

nakamura kazuha, her best friend, loves y/n l/n, her girlfriend.

"yunjin."

the american averted her gaze from the white ceiling, meeting the stern but apologetic and concerned gaze of their manager. yunjin followed him down the corridor, away from the girls, who exchanged glances before returning their attention to the operating room door.

he began to speak, but yunjin interrupted him, her voice tired and suspecting as she raised it ever so slightly to prevent the man in front of her from lying.

"what is happening?"

the man's brow furrowed before he sighed. "yunjin, kazuha loves y/n—"

yunjin shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks as an uneasy feeling settled in her stomach. through her tears and lashes, she stared at the man.

"no, i get that part. but why do we specifically need my girlfriend back, oppa?

"yunjin, this… all of this. it's just—"

yunjin froze as her ears tried to block out their manager's next words, but her mind caught up with her faster than she realized. after that, yunjin blocked out everything as if her entire system had shut down, failing to hear their manager's most sincere apology and his footsteps slowly receding.

her hand moves on its own, her eyes wandering as her thumb presses on your phone number. she held it up to her ear and gazed at the waning crescent moon, which was peering down at her from above, along with the many sparkling stars in the sky.

"yunjin, is kazuha—"

"please tell me the truth." yunjin cut you off, her voice void of any emotions, catching you off guard on the other side of the line.

"jen, now is not the time—"

"please. i need to know." yunjin sobbed, her hiccups muffled by her hand. "i need to hear it from you, y/n/n. please, please. just… please."

"yunjin-ah, baby, i need to know what you're talking about first."

yunjin's eyes closed, teeth digging into her lower lip so deeply that she tasted metal on her tongue when she opened them again, tears falling freely as if they were waterfalls. even though she was in excruciating pain and was a sobbing mess, she fell for your sweet words at that precise moment. she wasn't supposed to do it. oh, dear god, she wasn't supposed to. she just couldn't help herself.

as she stuttered out the next few words, her grip on the phone tightened, almost crushing the rectangular device in her hand with her bare strength.

"this… what is this? oppa told me and—" yunjin took in a shaky breath. "i need to hear it from you, please. y/n, what… what is this relationship?"

you fell silent, and the shuffling on your side ceased as well. you both remained silent, yunjin's teeth digging deeper and harder into her bottom lip as your silence grew longer. she looked at the moon, which seemed to be mocking her by grinning down at her and the stars blinking repeatedly. 

soon after, you spoke, and yunjin wished you had just shut your mouth because hearing it from you was excruciatingly painful, so excruciating that the word itself wasn't enough to describe her agony.

"yunjin. our… relationship. all of this. all of this is just for publicity." 

yunjin's knees buckled at that, her knees receiving all of the pain from collapsing to the floor, resulting in a bruise. she curled up on herself, hand clutching your hoodie, which she had worn to the schedule earlier. her body ached all over and her lungs closed up as tears streamed down her cheeks.

yunjin stammered out her question, almost unable to speak due to her inability to breathe properly.

"and… do you love someone else?"

"jen, please—"

"please. just tell me."

yunjin braced herself for the response. she did her best in that short notice to prepare herself, but another wave of pain wracked her body as you spoke again after the long silence, her phone falling to the floor as she lost all her strength and chose to cry out to the crescent moon, which was waning at the time.

a loud, continuous, and alarming beep echoed down the corridor, and more tears streamed down her cheeks as she hung her head low.

"i'm sorry."

her throat tightened, causing her to cough out loud in an attempt to relieve the pain, but she found herself staring at something instead. as tears slowly fell onto her palm, they dripped down onto it.

"i'm so sorry, zuha."

a green petal.

"but i can't let go of her."

and an incessant beep.

nikko note: oh my god it's been a while since i did a nikko note huhu (actually forgot how it goes...) and this came in clutch, so i think i forgot some parts 👹 anyway, hi! happy valentines to you, my beloved reader! with or without a valentine, you are loved and appreciated by me! thank you so much for the 671 followers (while i was queuing this up for valentines) and so here is a thank you and valentine special fic from me! poor zuha, selfish yunjin, and asshole y/n 🤗 alright, anway! thank you, thank you so much! i love you and happy valentines! enjoy your day with your loved ones! have a great day! 😗💛

[thedeafprophet]

The Housestaff at the Townhouse Of The Boisterous Author

Some new Fallen London background character designs of mine!

As many who are familiar with basic facts of the victorian era know, a signficiant portion of the population in the 19th century worked in domestic service. Within households servants had their own titles and roles, especially in wealthier families who had great many working within a house -

And, going along with that, many people, even those just lower-middle class, had servants doing the housework, which was an incredibly time consuming task in the victorian era. This was before stainless steal, when basic household items had to be made by hands, with ironing to be done, and so, so much soot around - it was a lot of work.

I'll spare you all a further ramble of all i know about servants in the victorian era - but suffice to say, and as many already know, I have been thinking about giving more detail into those who work within my Fallen London PCs households!

Further detail on these characters under the cut

Viola

Age: Seventeen!

Role: Housemaid

Personality:

Anxious and shy, but very sweet and well meaning, poor Viola is not exactly the best at her job.She's extremely determined to figure it out, even if she has a habit of dropping things! Just give her the chance!

Previous Employment:

Viola previously, but briefly, worked at The Palace. Her elder sister who had worked their much longer had recently developed an illness, and the role had to be filled.

Things did not go well for Viola.

An inccident one day while Mst. Awnings was at the Palace led to a sort of confrontation, which ended in them offering her a job at their own home in the end instead.

Mary-Anne

Age: My, don't you know its terribly rude to inquire about a woman's age?

Role: Housekeeper

Personality:

It is Mary-Anne's job to run the house, and she is going to do it properly. Even if everything seems so set against her doing so....

Mary-Anne oversees all of the other staff at the house, and does not let them forget it. She is caring, but strict, and has certain expectations on the way things are meant to be done. She will never stand by and let things just happen - no matter who the one is comitting the offence.

Previous Employment:

Mary-Anne has been working for service for many, many years. It was her job on the surface, though her role and age was very different back then, and it is her role now. She had been the head of the staff at a large residence in London for many years now.

However after witnessing certan records and an incident by the former homeowner, Mary-Anne had refused to stay silent - which kept her morals clear, but left her without a job and without a recommendation.

She initially worked for Mst. Awnings alone, minimal job oppurtunities presented to her, and while she certainly complains about the... less typical attitudes of this household, she is not inclined to leave.

Edith

Age: Forty something or other. What's it to ya?

Role: Cook

Personality:

Edith has been round the block, and has been in and out of many kitchens in her life time. Her experience in resturants has built her, and though there's been a few flames here or there, she's not much inclined for worries.

Edith is rather gruff and improper, and isn't inclined to follow so called social norms. She'll do her job how she wants, and smokes wherever she damn well pleases. Ain't like she's hurting anyone, anyways.

You aint gonna find someone else who can work as well as she can.

Previous Employment:

Edith had been working at a particular resturant near Spite for a couple years now, and hadnt been much planning to move. However, during the GCO, Edith got caught among the chaos, and ended up sustaining a significant leg injury.

Her previous employer was not inclined to provide supports such as sitting in a busy kitchen job, and Edith found herself looking elsewhere. Which is how she found herself working in a house kitchen rather then a resturant one - with certainly an interesting state of requests.

[vera-deville]

Going through a pretty horrid breakup atm, let's just say the guy I was with for six weeks left me then got with another immediately a week after. With me finding out through an outside source as he blocked me everywhere. So I was wondering if uhh, I could get sum fluff with Malleus and GN reader. Just need smth w one of my favs to add to my 'Gettin over this bitch' Playlist LMAO. Just something light-hearted and fun after gettin'over some kinda hardship. Like smth happened that has the reader in an upset mood and Mal gives some ✨sage advice✨ in his own way (we know how he is) or sum shi. Preferably romantic but platonic works too

Gahhh, not sure I did this right, I'm requesting this whilst half asleep lmao.

-🐅

The Sagely Advice of a Dragon Fae

05/31/2024 - 07/09/2024

Pairing: Malleus Draconia x Reader (you can think of the interactions as romantic or platonic) Word Count: 1,045 Warnings: Reader's just having a bad day, lowkey a crack fic- Gender: Gender Neutral Tags: @rose-the-witch1, @viviennevermillion (let me know if you'd like to be added to a taglist, and which characters you'd like to be added for)! Notes: I'm really sorry to hear about what you're going through 🐅 anon! I wrote this in such a way that it could be read as platonic or romantic. I wasn't sure if you wanted the hardship in the story to be a breakup or not, but I ended up making it a break up. I also apologize so much for taking so long to complete your request! And don't worry, you requested perfectly!

In which you are dealing with a break up and a particular dragon fae has words of wisdom for you.

Sometimes, you just wanted to hurl an asteroid at life.

Not that it would cause much damage (if at all any), but it's the thought that counts, right?

Brooding over your life seemed to be something you were doing more often now, and frankly speaking, it was getting on your nerves. Everything around you seemed to either contribute to your irritation or remind you of something - contributing to your irritation nonetheless.

Another overblot had passed over, not unlike a raging storm, and by this point, you were so used to them that you were simply biding your time for the next one. Crowley seemed more annoying than ever, what with his near constant spur of the moment vacations, and who else better than the magicless Prefect of Ramshackle to clean up after his messes? Oh and you got dumped. The best part of it? You only found out through Cater since you had been blocked by the guy you were with.

With everything just piling up on top of each other, you could feel yourself gradually losing your sanity and right about now, you could use one of Crowley's vacations for yourself.

Your friends were helpful, but it didn't change the humiliation you felt when they found out - and that too, before you. You knew they didn't think anything less of you. If anything, they were worried and constantly wary of your feelings, waiting as though you were a ticking time bomb. And yet, you couldn't help but continue to feel the humiliation. Except now, it was coupled with the pitying looks and actions of those around you.

And that's how you ended up at the rundown gardens of Ramshackle. Truly, the place lived up to its name. The marble benches had clearly seen better days, but in a way, there was a decrepit beauty to your dorm. Vines grew like curly hair, tangling and winding and unravelling a certain way.

You had been following up with Crowley regarding funds to renovate Ramshackle. Of course, he originally had told you to pay out of your pocket. And of course, you'd successfully presented (and won) your claim that Ramshackle is a Night Raven College dorm - meaning the money had to come out of his.

The actual renovation plans were still being...well, planned.

But in the quiet of your beloved Ramshackle, accompanied by no other than your thoughts, you could imagine the transformations the dorm could go through.

"Ahem."

So much for not being accompanied by anyone else but your thoughts.

You turn, a sinewy shadow stepping clear into your vision.

"Hello Tsunotarou."

"Hello Child of Man."

Malleus looked dapper as ever. Standing tall and proud, shoulders rolled back, hair framing his face ever so perfectly, you couldn't help but wonder if this fae ever had a bad day in his life. Surely he had his own fair share of woes?

"What are you doing here tonight? If you're free, you should reflect on things with me." He asks in that curious manner of his.

"It seems all I've been doing as of late is reflect Tsunotarou." You chide, knowing that Malleus knew nothing about your latest predicaments. "Allow me to ask you a question."

"A question for me? Alright, ask me anything."

"Why is life so unfair?"

Malleus expected this question. He had heard...whispers around the campus and it seemed that Lilia of the ailments that plagued the Ramshackle Prefect's mind (though of course he wouldn't tell him exactly what exactly pervaded over your psyche).

"Human lives are already so minute, so why waste time contemplating things of insignificance?"

You take a moment to ponder his words. Insignificant? Was the love you felt truly insignificant? Or is it the time you spent yearning over someone who couldn't even tell you to your face that they didn't feel the same? Or perhaps it's the fact that you have spent all this time moping around instead of doing something else with all that time and energy?

Malleus was right.

It really was insignificant.

"I know not of what matters plague your mind, but I know that humankind are vastly different from fae. I merely said to not waste your time on matters of insignificance. That does not include matters of the heart."

You scrunch your nose at that.

Malleus was starting to sound like all your other friends, and regardless of whether they were correct or not, the rut you found yourself in made you numb to his words. "How would you know about the ways I find to waste my time?" You ask bitterly.

"Then don't waste it."

Well that was blunt.

You didn't really know how to respond to that.

"If you believe that you are wasting your time, then simply turn your focus to something else. From my perspective, human life seems far too short to accomplish anything. On the surface, you waste your life as is, so why not waste your time doing something you love?"

You didn't really know whether to be offended or grateful for the advice.

It made sense though. You were wasting your time brooding over someone, so why not do something else with the limited time you had?

"You know what Malleus? I think you're right. What do you suggest I waste my time on then?" You see the smirk that adorns his face after you ask this and immediately realize what was about to suggest to you. "No gargoyles right now, please."

All of a sudden the smirk vanished into a pout - one you were keen on not falling for.

"Very well then Child of Man. Perhaps you would be inclined to learning archery?"

You look at him befuddled. "Archery!? I don't even know how to shoot an arrow Malleus!"

"Hence why I said learn."

He had you there.

"Even so, where would we even get bows and arrows from-"

"Right here." Malleus said as he magicked two pairs of bows and a bunch of arrows out of nowhere. "You now live in a world of magic, remember?"

He had you there too.

"And before you ask what we will use as our targets..."

You watch as he magicked boards. A whole bunch of them, all around the two of you.

"Very well then Tsunotarou. Lead the way!"

Author's Note: Again, I am really sorry about how long this took to finish. Unfortunately, I got swamped with stuff, and there just doesn't seem to be an end to it all. I wanted to make this fic a lot longer, but then decided on something a little more quaint. I also included some of Malleus' voice lines from the game throughout the fic as fun little Easter eggs. Masterlist

[phantomyre]

following the train of thought that EC-vincent is a different timeline from rebirth-vincent, does that suggest that the entirety of EC could be just /one particular timeline's series of events/ instead of The History? or is this divergence just for vincent?

for example- does it make sense to consider EC-glenn to be different from rebirth-glenn & etc etc?

(wanted to get your thoughts if you had any)

Hey there, and thank you for the question! I do have a few thoughts on it, albeit I try to approach it based on what we've been given across all recent information so it might sound a tad generic. Long post... (sorry, I got carried away lol)

[Preface] As is already obvious, it would appear that of all the main party members, Vincent's the only odd-ball out in terms of his appearance. He doesn't 'belong' to any timeline in EC unlike all the other characters who are from Remake/Intergrade/Rebirth. And I think this is for a reason. I've seen the excuse of perhaps Vincent was just modeled a long time ago, but frankly I don't think the dev team are that shallow. They've had Vincent's model for about a couple years, give or take, or at the very least his design. And they know fans would pick apart character appearances and inconsistencies if something (like Vincent) was out of place. And yet they chose to go out of their way with a totally different take than what we see in Rebirth. It would have been a lot easier to port in Vincent's Rebirth design into EC, but Nomura decided to painstakingly create Vincent from scratch for EC. What's more, we also get a completely different Galian Beast, which is also another extensive process to create. Now granted-- perhaps what we see in EC was what we were going to get in Rebirth but got scrapped, and Nomura may have been so married to Vincent's EC design that he wanted to include it instead. However, if there's anything we have learned about the FF7 dev team (and Nomura), it's that there's always some nuanced reason behind it aside from 'I spent so much time on this; just add it already'. Anyone who has been in the FF7 fandom for some length of time will know you can't always trust what the devs say 100%. They are artists, and they like to be a bit mysterious. All this is to say... I just think there's a potential lore reason for why they decided to give Vincent this unique treatment of being time-line vague. Rebirth has shown us that there isn't a single timeline but multiple worlds that diverge and merge, depending on the choices being made by those who can affect fate. So at least within Rebirth's 'world', we know that multiple worlds can exist in tandem. This concept isn't exclusive to Rebirth, however. It is also indicated (by Sephiroth) at the very beginning of Ever Crisis...

During special story-based events where a portal is involved, you'll notice that they will always have something along the lines of 'another possibility' being repeated. So in essence, while there's nothing official that states EC is its own world or timeline, we are being told that the Lifestream is capable of weaving many 'possibilities', or alternative worlds. And this is front and center with Ever Crisis and Rebirth. What's more, EC just so happens to line up with the compilation lettering system... AC, BC, CC, DC, EC... Coincidence? For those of us who know OG's story and have played EC, there are a few differences when going through the OG's story. It isn't 1:1, and some things are taken from Rebirth. One might call it abridged. So... is Ever Crisis a separate world/timeline? Maybe. In terms of Glenn, I think it's a bit early to tell because Rebirth essentially gave us a spoiler for what happens to Glenn. But First Soldier's story has yet to conclude. So in terms of Glenn, he's a bit of an outlier. I think we'll have a better answer to that when we get part 3 as I'm sure we'll see him there in some form. Though back to Vincent... While it depends on how one looks at 'worlds' or multi-timelines, I think we can mostly all agree it's not a single world. What causes this to get very convoluted is that we got Vincent who is immortal... there are many ways they could handle him being both immortal and being a part of the Lifestream's system that creates multiple worlds from choices. However, the simplest thing I can think of is that Vincent simply exists outside of time. I feel as though Vincent is described as outside of time, but I could be wrong. All I know is that in BC, Vincent does say 'The passage of time has no meaning to me'. This is going deeper into some other territory but I'll just briefly say that I believe Vincent is incapable of merging with the Lifestream... but that's for a different discussion. And because I think he cannot merge with the Lifestream, he is thus 'outside' of time if that makes sense. TLDR: I think it's very possible EC is meant to be 'another possibility' of another world created by the choices of our protagonists (and by way of logic, the choices we make as gamers). Secondly, I think this curious lack of design cohesion is specifically for Vincent, only. This may have to do with him being immortal and existing (likely) outside of time itself. I think this is their way of communicating (as all artists do) Vincent's identity to us without really divulging it. I wouldn't doubt part 3 will uncover this side of Vincent so that we can come back to EC and see a connection.

[stargazer-sims]

The Art of Redemption

(part 20)

previous // next // story index

—————

"I didn't realize it'd be this easy."

Nikolai watches in fascination as Ginger slides the iron along the length of a damp towel spread over her ironing board. Underneath the towel is one of his medals. He can see the silver peeking out from under the edge. Tiny wisps of steam rise up from the towel, and the iron emits a soft sound that's somewhere between a sigh and a hiss, as if it can't make up its mind whether it's proud of a job well done or annoyed that this particular job is necessary.

They’re in Ginger’s kitchen with its cheerful yellow-painted walls and a large window that faces her apartment building’s courtyard. He’d spent last night here at her place and he'd slept remarkably well on the pull-out couch, with Tangerine tucked into the crook of his arm. This morning, Ginger made tea, waffles, and fruit salad with cottage cheese for breakfast, and then they went to the rink together. Afterwards, as Ginger had promised, she took him shopping for the things they’d need to restore and preserve his skating memorabilia.

Ginger smiles as she lifts the iron and sets it upright at the end of the ironing board. "I didn't say it'd be difficult. All I said was that it'd be a bit of work." She peels back the towel to reveal the medal. Its ribbon looks as good as new. "You've got a lot of medals. This isn't exactly a ten-minute task."

"Sorry."

"Don't say that," she admonishes. "I'm glad to do it. They deserve to look their best. Here." She lifts the current medal from the ironing board and passes it to him. "I'd be furious if anyone damaged my medals, but I know you'd help me fix them."

"I would, if I'd known this trick." He carries the medal to the table and lays it on the leaf of white tissue paper he'd already set out for it. Wrapping it carefully, he puts it in the plastic storage box he'd bought earlier that day. "Can I try doing the next one? Give your arm a break."

"Sure," Ginger agrees. "Shall I show you what to do, or has Beth-Anne been teaching you how to iron as well as teaching you how to cook?"

He shakes his head. "She irons my shirts. I don't think she trusts me with it. But I do know how to wash my own laundry now."

"She truly is your second mother, isn't she? Teaching you how to cook and do laundry. What else has she taught you?"

"I'm getting pretty good at cleaning my own bathroom. Apparently, she doesn’t do, uh… smelly man bathrooms, I think is how she phrased it.”

Ginger laughs. "Lord help us. Is she as bossy teaching you housekeeping skills as she is on the ice?"

"Surprisingly, no," he says. "I'm actually seeing a whole new side of her, living under the same roof, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't like it. She has more mom qualities than even I imagined."

"I'm glad it's working out," Ginger says.

"Me too. She’s letting me stay there until I finish my coaching courses, at least. We'll see what happens afterwards."

"So, you're doing that, then? Coaching, I mean."

"Yeah." He joins her by the ironing board as she pulls another one of his medals — a gold one this time — out of the cardboard box on the counter. His breath catches a little when he recognizes which one it is. "Ginger, I really have to fix this one myself."

She glances down at it. "ISU World Figure Skating Championship 2010. Yes, I can see why you'd want to sort this one out yourself. The 2006 and 2009 ones as well, I expect."

"When you find them, yeah," he says.

She gives the medal to him. "All right. Lay it flat, and press the ribbon as smooth as you can with your hand. Then we'll put the towel on."

"Okay." He does as she instructs. "How's this?"

"Good. Now, the towel. Don't cover up the gold bit. You don't want to iron that."

"Got it."

“Press down firmly, but not too hard.” Ginger positions herself behind him and places her hand over his to guide him for the first couple of strokes with the iron. "Yes, that’s the way. Well done.”

He concentrates on what he's doing, but that doesn't prevent him from thinking about the world championships. The competition was in Italy last year, and a record number of Canadian skaters had qualified, four of whom were from their very own Brindleton Bay Skating Club; himself in the senior men's category, Ginger in senior women's and their friends Hunter and Juliet in pairs.

Their coaches had considered it a triumph for so many of them to have made it in. However, by the end of the week, their elation at qualifying paled in comparison to the emotional high of what sports journalists had dubbed 'The Canadian Sweep'.

It hadn't really been a sweep, of course. That would've required Canadians to win gold in all four categories. In reality, Canadian ice dancers won silver, and although Juliet and Hunter didn't have a top-three finish, the other Canadian pair in the competition took home bronze. Ginger, who'd received her citizenship the previous summer and was finally able to officially compete for Canada, won gold in her category, and Nikolai had also claimed gold in his. It was his second Worlds gold in a row.

Would I have made it three in a row at Worlds this season? he wonders. Is Ginger going to be able to get her own double gold?

Like him, Ginger has more than one world championship gold medal, and also like him, she won her first and second ones in non-consecutive years. Nothing would excite him more than to see her earn back-to-back titles.

He hopes she's ready. She hadn't skated yesterday, and from what he'd seen from her in practice today, she doesn't appear to be concerned at all. Stan didn't seem particularly bothered either. He'd been going easy on her.

But, maybe that shouldn't have been a surprise. Ginger looked flawless on the ice. Nikolai tried to observe every move she’d made, and he hadn't noticed a single thing he thought she could improve on. Her performance was powerful and beautiful and technically perfect.

Don't worry about her. She's got this, he tells himself, but the directive only partially works. He's still going to worry, not just because he wants her to do well, but because he wants her to be safe, to not be careless or overconfident.

This year's world championship is being held in Russia, in Moscow, and it's taking place in just a couple of weeks, near the end of March. It's been more than a year since Nikolai has been to his grandfather and parents' home country, and he's overcome with the sudden, crazy notion that he could go and watch the competition. He's not a fan of flying, and he'd have to pay for the trip out of his own pocket, but he's certain it'd be worth it to see his best friend skate her way to a spot at the top of the podium.

"Nikolai." Ginger's voice inserts itself into his thoughts.

"What?"

"I think it's done."

"Oh." He sets the iron aside, and then pulls away the towel to find that it is indeed done. It looks as pristine as it did when the ISU official had draped it around his neck last spring in Turin.

On impulse, he picks it up and puts it on. Somewhere in the back of his mind, an imaginary crowd cheers and tosses bouquets of flowers onto the ice, and O Canada plays. He swallows convulsively.

Ginger's palm comes to rest on his back. She rubs gently between his shoulder blades. "You okay?"

He nods. "I'm... I guess I'm just a little sad. All of this has been a lot."

"I can only imagine," she says. "It's okay to be sad."

"I know." He touches the medal hanging around his neck. "I'm getting better, though. My leg's getting stronger, and I'm feeling better about most things. Going to the rink with Beth-Anne every day has helped me a lot."

"I think mostly everyone is glad to see you there."

"I'm glad to be there," he tells her. "I really do want to coach, you know. I wasn't sure at first, but I realized I don't want to leave the sport even if I can't compete. This seems like the way that makes the most sense since I discovered that I really like helping people learn new skills. Beth-Anne says I'm good at it too. She thinks I'll be a great coach."

"For what it's worth, I'd tend to agree with her."

"Thanks. Your opinion's worth a lot to me, if you want to know," he says. "Anyway, the other reason I want to get into coaching is kind of a selfish one."

"Oh?"

"There's this one little kid..."

"Eden?"

"Yeah, Eden Seong. Have you seen him skate? He's only ten and he's absolutely amazing. He's going to be a champion some day, and I want to be there for that."

"He's one of Beth-Anne's students, right?"

"Right, but Beth-Anne says he might be my student in a couple of years, once he’s in Junior division.”

“And how does little Eden feel about that idea?”

“He’s into it. I think he’d want me to start coaching him right now if we were both ready,” Nikolai says. “I've been helping Beth-Anne with Eden’s individual lessons, and with one of her Novice students, and the group classes. She thinks I'll be able to teach a preschool group class by myself by September."

"That's brilliant," Ginger says. "Do you think you're ready for the challenge of teaching four year olds how to skate backwards and how to stop without colliding with something?"

He grins, remembering the antics of the five little skaters in the Saturday preschool class. "Well, I already taught one girl how to stop without crashing into me or into the boards, so I think I'll be fine."

"Helmets are mandatory, I hope."

"For the preschool kids? Yeah, definitely."

Ginger laughs. "I meant for you."

"With the way they bounce around, I think hockey shin pads might be more useful for me," he says.

"When Beth-Anne gets back, I'm going to come and watch you in action," Ginger declares. She pokes around in the cardboard box and retrieves another medal. "Here's Worlds 2009. I'll look for 2006 as well. Can you do this one on your own?"

"Yes," he confirms. "Do you really want to watch me work with the kids?"

"Adorable children and adorable you? Why wouldn't I?" she says. "The only thing that'd make the entire scenario any cuter than that would be if you brought the bear."

"I could make that happen."

"We should go to Build-A-Bear and see if we can find some skates for him."

Nikolai laughs. "He actually has some already. Workout gear and costumes too. If you want to come to my house with me later, we can find all his stuff and dress him up."

"Sounds like a project for tomorrow." Ginger looks both amused and pleased. "I had something else in mind for tonight."

"LIke what?" Nikolai asks.

"Ordering Korean food and watching the opening ceremonies of World Juniors. You did tell Brett you were going to watch, didn't you?"

"To watch him skate, yeah. I honestly didn't think about the opening ceremonies, but I’m liking this plan. Korean food because the competition's in South Korea?”

“Exactly so.”

“I like it. Can I sleep over again?"

“I think you’d better. South Korea’s twelve hours ahead of us and the ceremony’s on at half-past nine. It’ll be your bedtime by the time it’s over.”

“Yours too.”

“Mine too,” she concedes.

"What are we going to do between now and nine-thirty?" he inquires.

"Finish this, for a start." Ginger gestures at the ironing board where he's pressing the ribbon of his Worlds gold from 2006. The other two are around his neck, and they clink together gently each time he moves. "I've got dance time this afternoon, and Uncle Stan's probably going to be there. You can come along, if you like. Are you allowed to dance yet?"

"As long as I don't jump or put all my weight on my bad leg, I don't see why not," he says. "Nobody specifically said I can't dance, and I'd love to dance with you. It can replace my time on the treadmill."

"How much time on the treadmill are you allowed to do?"

"Thirty minutes."

"Right, then." Ginger nods, as if settling something in her own mind. "After thirty minutes, you've got to stop, and if you get tired or your knee starts hurting before thirty minutes, you stop."

She looks so serious, he has to put the iron down and cover his mouth to smother his laughter. "Are you channelling Beth-Anne right now?"

She folds her arms across her body and arches an eyebrow as she gives him a mock glare so reminiscent of Beth-Anne that it's uncanny. She manages to smooth out her English accent somehow as she demands, "Nikolai Pavlenko, are you questioning my coaching decisions?"

He snorts inelegantly in his futile effort not to crack up, "Oh my God..."

Ginger obviously tries to maintain her stern expression, but she dissolves into giggles too. "We've all spent way too much time together, I think."

"No," he says, once he catches his breath. "There's not such thing as too much time spent with you. Or Beth-Anne, for that matter. Or Uncle Stan. We're family."

"I love that sentiment, honestly," she says.

"Me too." Steady enough to resume ironing once more, he finishes another medal and then puts it around his neck with the other two. "There. That's my third Worlds gold done. How many do we have left?"

Ginger peers into the box. "About eight or nine. Are you going to put those three away before you press any more, or do you plan to wear all your Worlds medals at once?"

He considers for a moment. "All at once. Do you see the silver ones, or did we already get to those and I didn't notice?"

"Let's see... Here's 2007 and 2008," Her hand emerges with the two silver medals, and she sets them on the ironing board. "We're only missing 2004 now. Just give me a second."

"No problem. These'll take me a few minutes. I'm not as good as you at ironing yet," he says. "What time is your dance session, by the way? I can drive us over there."

"It's at three o'clock," she answers. "But, I thought perhaps we could take the bus."

"And... keep riding past our stop on the way home?"

"Hmm... For a couple of hours, perhaps."

"Let's do it," he says. "Do you want to stop to pick up food on the way back, or should we just order in?"

"Order in. That way, we can put our pyjamas on and settle in for the night, and if we happen to accidentally fall asleep on the sofa bed together, at least we'll already be dressed for it."

Nikolai smiles. More and more, he's learning that situations don't have to be monumental or momentous to be significant. Today's been a good day so far, an ordinary day. Nothing dramatic had to happen for him to find some sort of meaning in it. All he needs to understand right now is that he feels safe and that he’s content to be with his friend. Skating on TV, spicy noodles, and a sleepover. What more could he possibly want?

He and Ginger continue to chat amiably while they finish the task of getting all the wrinkles and creases out of the ribbons. Then, she takes a bunch of silly pictures of him with all six of his world championship medals around his neck at once, and they post them to their social media accounts with the most ridiculous captions they can come up with.

When they're done playing, they wrap the remaining medals and tuck them into the storage box. Ginger says she can keep the box here, if that'd make him feel more comfortable, and he agrees. He trusts her. If anyone would take care of them as if they were her own, it'd be Ginger.

Nikolai is just nestling the last small tissue paper wrapped bundle into the plastic container when his phone beeps for attention. It's a text alert. His phone is on the counter next to the microwave.

"Can you check that for me, please?" he asks Ginger.

"Sure," she says. She crosses the kitchen and scoops up the phone. A second later, she utters a half-spoken, half-groaned, "Ugh."

"What is it?" Nikolai inquires as he snaps the lid onto the storage box. "Or do I want to know?"

"It's Anya," Ginger holds out the phone at arm's length, as if it's giving off a bad smell. "She's written part of it in Russian, but I assume it's something disgusting if the string of pink heart emojis is anything to judge by. The other bit says, 'did you get our cat back?'."

"Our cat?" Nikolai echoes, incredulous. "Since when is Tangerine 'our' cat? She's mine. Anya barely tolerates her."

"Would you like me to send a reply to her?" Ginger asks.

"No, just delete that message. I'm not about to have a whole conversation with her through texts, and you shouldn't have to either."

"Do you really just want to delete it?"

"Yes," Nikolai says. "I'm determined that we're going to get to enjoy our plans for the rest of the day, and there's no way I'm going to let her mess it up."

[deandoesthingstome]

Walk with Me - Ch 1

Pairing: FBI Agent!Syverson x OFC, Drug Czar!August Walker x OFC

Chapter Summary: The stakeout, some revelations, a takedown of sorts. We're just meeting everyone here, folks.

Chapter Warnings: Drug use, mention of drug trafficking, mention of blow jobs, light dom/sub behavior, past relationship pining, cheating (-ish?)

Word Count: 3.1K

Masterlist: For full series Summary and Warnings

Spotify Playlist: Usually a song per POV section

Syverson

"He's on the move."

Agent Syverson watched all nine monitors with an intensity felt throughout the surveillance trailer. He had two agents inside the posh Miami nightclub wearing cameras and his tech had hacked into the security feed for views of the bar, near the DJ, and over the entrance to VIP. Through an earpiece, he advised Agent Ramos to shift right while he motioned for Agent Baylen to swap camera views on the top three monitors. Something had caught Syverson's attention and he wanted confirmation before deciding the next moves for his team.

When Ramos had panned far enough onto the dance floor, Syverson called for her to stop and had Baylen zoom in on the screen. Coupled with the cameras from the DJ booth, Syverson had what he needed.

He watched her body move with what seemed like reckless abandon, but if this was who he thought it was, those moves were anything but careless.  There was a point and purpose to every swing and wave, every roll of her hips, every toss of her head.

"Sugar?" Syverson wasn't sure how the word slipped out because he was positive he only whispered it to himself in his head. But suddenly, eyes were on him and he felt his ire growing.  He did not need this attention or the distraction.

"What was that, sir?" Agent Moore asked.

Did he ignore it? Wave it off? Pretend it never happened? If only one other person had heard it, maybe he could get away with it. But as it stood, all three agents in the trailer were looking at him expectantly.

"Could I get some damn sugar for my damn coffee?" he barked, a little harsher than even he meant it to come out.

"I thought you took your coffee black, sir," Moore spoke.

"Well not tonight, I guess." His stare shut them the rest of the way up and everyone put their focus back on the task at hand, which was all he wanted in the first place.

Now he could watch her in peace.

Her moves told him she was hunting and the poor sap desperate enough to stand next to her was going down. He knew exactly how it would feel, too, because he remembered those nights with her like it was yesterday.

Even so young he had fallen fast and hard. Maybe he was mistaken, but she acted like she couldn’t be without him, too. So he spent any free time he could find between farm chores, football practice, and family responsibilities to hold her close and kiss her as deep as he knew how at the time.

She seduced him right away, but prom was something special and he thought for sure she was the one forever. He never got the chance to tell her how he felt, however, because it had taken him the rest of senior year to figure it out and by then, she was gone, moved away with her family to take care of an ailing relative far enough away that long distance felt like never again.

He called, she wrote, they managed one clandestine meet up on borrowed funds, and then it was his turn to disappear when he enlisted, not knowing what else he wanted to do with his life when sports didn't pan out and farm life lost its appeal.

But he never stopped thinking about her and the way she moved. On the dance floor and later that night in the cool sheets of the bed at the hotel room he sprang for. And now here she was, all these years later, like a cold splash of water to his face.

"Sir?" he heard like a faraway dream in his ear. "Do you want us to take him?"

Suddenly, she wasn't alone. Sure the dance floor was crowded, but until that moment she hadn't been dancing with anyone in particular. When his real mark for the night stepped into view, Agent Syverson almost broke the back of the chair he was leaning on.

August Walker, one of Miami's most notorious drug kingpins, was standing in front of his high school sweetheart and watching her with as much intensity as Syverson was. Only, August Walker could reach out and touch her if he wanted to.

Syverson watched as she danced around Walker, who simply stood stock still on the floor, not giving one single fuck if he was interrupting anyone's flow. And when Walker grasped her arm the next time she moved in front of him, Syverson almost broke.

"Anyone know who this is?"

"It's in the file, sir. This is Francesca Beaumont. We think she's his newest mule."

His throat went dry as Agent Moore finished her statement and he couldn't scramble for the file folder on the table in front of him fast enough. Sure enough, there in the report were the name and the details in black and white. Her photo was stuck behind those of a few other known mules and he cursed himself for missing it. That's not the way he liked to start off when taking the lead on a long running case.

And no wonder the name didn't stick out for him. In school, she went by Frankie. And her last name was Malloy. Had she married somewhere over the years, he wondered to himself.

Fuck.

"Stand down. I know we want this guy, but have any of you actually seen him do anything illegal tonight? Some rule out there about not dancing on a dance floor?"

He watched as cameras panned to follow August Walker who was now leading his Frankie away from the flashing lights of the DJ booth and up the stairs to his secured VIP lounge.

"Someone get me everything we have on her."

August

Francesca wasn’t supposed to be in the club tonight, August knew that for sure. He’d been very clear with her.

In the weeks since he’d activated her, she’d usually taken his direction so well. If she stepped out of line unknowingly, she was always willing to take a note and do whatever he asked of her to change her behavior. She was so pliant. Just like he liked them.

Her first test trip was to Amsterdam. She didn’t question it when he told her had to fly out early, but he’d meet her there. The morning of her flight, he had called to let her know his assistant was dropping off an extra suitcase he needed her to bring. And when she arrived, she didn’t even bat an eye when she discovered he had already left.

At least he assumed she didn’t mind because he didn’t get a scathing voicemail or fuck-off text message and she had apparently followed the directions on the letter left in her suite to a tee. The bag was delivered without a hitch exactly where he’d asked her to drop it and as far as he knew, she’d enjoyed the rest of her weekend, albeit alone. She’d just been so excited to experience a new city, she told him when she got back and he visited her apartment in the very late evening hours, slinking in by the alley entrance and slipping his key in the lock.

That had actually been his first request of her. A key to her apartment, so he could come and go as he pleased. After the few dates he’d taken her on, treating her to lavish meals and luxury car rides, she hadn’t resisted at all. What would he possibly care to take from her place, not the lowliest of studio apartments, but certainly nothing he would normally let himself be caught dead in. 

She was something else, though. She had a presence that did not fit her surroundings. She didn’t have the kind of money he did, hell she didn’t even have the kind of money some of his lower employees did, hence her meager living situation. But she glowed with the grace of a celebrity. Someone who deserved so much more than the hand he thought she’d been dealt. If she kept up the good work, he’d reward her. Bring her along in a more official capacity. Give her a larger stipend, move her into a place he wouldn’t mind being seen in. Maybe even replace one of his current regulars with her. 

Yeah, he really wanted to replace one of his current regulars with her. If he let himself think too long about it, maybe all of them.

As it stood now, she was on probation with him, whether she knew it or not. The Tokyo trip had also been a success, but she almost blew it for him when she started asking Hideo too many questions over cocktails. Later in the hotel room, he made sure to remind her who was in charge and when she was allowed to speak. She had liked that, too, he could tell.

So her showing up like this just before their trip to Spain in a few days was a surprise. When he caught sight of her, he had Mateo drive Candace home. Candace wouldn’t have known Francesca from a hole in the wall, but since he was going to put his newest carrier in her place once again, he couldn’t have Candace watching.

Once he was sure they were gone, he rose from the plush velvet couch of the roped off VIP lounge area, taking note that the new guy, Will, had stepped into Mateo’s spot without hesitation. It pleased August to know that his employees knew exactly what he wanted and needed, and when.

Usually. 

August headed down the steps leading to the dance floor. The music was loud, bordering on obnoxious for him but this is what the club scene called for and here is where he did most of his original business which had led fortuitously to his new business. So he ignored the cacophony and stalked across the floor, not so much pushing the revelers out of his way as willing them to step aside. 

When he reached Francesca, he stood still in front of her and let her keep moving in that way that left him no choice but to stiffen. She smirked like she’d won some unspoken competition and twirled again, bouncing to the beat and stepping around him. He didn’t look back, just waited for her to return, because he knew she wasn’t dancing away from him. Not after breaking rank and showing up uninvited like this.

When she finally did appear in front of him again, he grabbed her arm and pulled her quickly into his chest so he could speak directly into her ear. There was no way he was going to shout over the music at her.

“What exactly are you doing here, pet? Get a little lonely?” He pulled back to stare down into her face, pleased to find a small hint of terror. If he couldn’t will his women into submission, what good were they?

He bent again, “Do you want to walk with me somewhere private where you can tell me what this is all about?”

She nodded and he turned to leave the throng, still gripping her arm tightly.

Francesca

I wanted to make sure he hadn't forgotten about me. I knew it was risky, showing up when I'd been specifically warned to stay away until our upcoming trip. But on top of my worry about that trip, I missed him. As much as I hated to admit it.

He awoke such a fire in me. Feelings that had been missing for so long. Lovers had come and gone. But no one ever measured up to my first young lustful love. Not until August.

He made me crazy. Made me second guess everything I knew about myself.

The first night we were together, I was on my hands and knees in front of him faster than I ever thought possible. Most men were careful with me. Handled me with kid gloves, like I would break if the wind blew wrong.

But not August. He'd approached me at this very club, in much the same way he did tonight. Walked straight up to me and waited for an opportunity to speak to me when he was ready, whether I was or not.

I probably would have come right there on the dance floor if he had touched me that night, but he didn't. Not immediately. He just watched me. I could feel his lustful gaze as I circled him on the floor, and I made sure to turn back to him over and over again. Every time I turned away, I'd remember the look I saw in his eyes, and I'd spin right back to him.

He knew, too. Knew the way the hunger in his eyes was affecting me, no matter how hard I tried to resist. I didn't want him thinking he had the kind of control over me I imagined giving him, even from that very first night.

When I finally let myself dance for him and him alone, I saw the self-assured smirk of a man who knew who his conquest was for the night and I closed my eyes like that would keep him from knowing every thought that crept in.

I wanted him, and he was going to have me.

He didn't even touch me as he led me off the dance floor that first night. I followed him gladly, excitement buzzing through me, electrifying my core. He only turned back once to make sure I was following him to his personal lounge on the upper level of the club.

I didn't care if every person in that club knew I was about to get fucked by August Walker. 

I was proud of it. There were plenty of girls vying for his attention that night, and I needed to make sure I was who he wanted. But no matter how much I wanted him to take me then and there, he kept me on a hook.

Oh, I tasted him that night for sure. Felt his lips against mine and his tongue as it slipped inside my mouth after he showed me the tip. He was gentleman enough to get permission before he put the ecstasy tab in, so I can't even claim coercion of any sort. I can't claim disappointment either, though I thought he'd let me feel his cock in my pussy that night.

Instead, he kissed me until my head spun, and then he watched me drop to my knees before him.  I could see from the bulge in his pants, he was hard, and because I still had yet to figure out the game he was playing that night, I thought pulling his zipper down and releasing his engorged cock was just a preamble to the main event.

But for that night, August only wanted to fuck my mouth and I let him.

The filthy words he called down to me while I slathered my saliva all over his dick only made me wetter, and my mouth watered for him, too. He knew the effect he was having on me, coupled with the drug that coursed through my veins, and I loved every second of it. How could I not?

I worshiped his cock for what felt like hours. Licking up and down his shaft, circling my mouth around his head, stroking his base with my hand and jerking him off into my mouth.

Every time he wove his fingers into my hair, I willed him to pull, begged him through the tears in my eyes to hold me fast and move my head however he wanted to. I almost cried when he let go, but as soon as he was done spooning the coke into each of his nostrils from the tiny vial on the chain around his neck, he put both of his hands right back on my head and pumped his cock deep down my throat, coming with a roar that told me I'd satisfied something he'd been missing for a while. I smiled internally with that knowledge.

The next few weeks had been a whirlwind of seduction, and I was having a hard time differentiating just who was doing the seducing. When he invited me to Amsterdam, I was so excited. I imagined what fucking him in a foreign country would feel like.

But it was like he knew just how to keep me hanging on, giving me just enough of a taste of him before the trip to keep me wanting more. He completely avoided me for the entire trip. Sent word the day before our scheduled departure that he had to leave early and then put me in charge of that extra suitcase. When I arrived, our hotel suite was empty, with not one piece of his belongings left behind for me to hold on to. I never even saw him there. To say I was disappointed would be an understatement.

I kept my wits about me, though. Kept my disappointment to myself. I wasn't about to let him know how much I had ached for him for those days I was alone. And I'd been away from him often enough here in the States. But there was something about missing the opportunity to have his cock deep inside me while watching the light of a sunset in a different sky that had me questioning just how deep I was with this man.

I made sure to keep him close in Tokyo. And there was no way I was giving up an opportunity to fuck August in Japan. I may have offended his business partner, but I really didn't care. I wanted that dinner meeting over and done so I could pour myself over him and take his mind off the women who were serving us.

I knew Hideo had chosen those girls for particular reasons, and I wasn't about to sit idly by and let them whisper and giggle and tease and taunt his attention away from me. They weren't the kind of woman August truly desired anyway; they were mousy and timid, even with their advances.

I knew he was angry with the way I comported myself in front of his associates, but it didn't stop him from letting us both work out our frustrations on one another for the rest of the trip.

So when he told me to stay away for a few days this time, I knew something was up and I was right. I knew her name was Candace, but I still didn't know much about her other than I was worried he was about to hand my seat to Spain over to her, and I couldn't let that happen.

Taglists

And so here I was, being led by a firm grip on a walk to his private office. Exactly where I wanted to be.

Chapter 2

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[convexicalcrow]

Cub gazed at his reflection in the purity pool, wishing it wasn't showing him what he was currently seeing, which was the face that lived underneath the mask, a face he often refused to acknowledge. An old book, its spine bent open at a particular page, sat by his side. He was surprised he was still able to find it, given he had lost it many years ago. Well, not lost, exactly, misplaced. But it had turned up last week some time, and he couldn't help reading the old spell that had created the mask in the first place, wondering if he would still be able to change it.

He'd been fine. For a long time, he'd been fine. He'd been brave and allowed himself to get closer to Scar, but all it had done was fuel his dysphoria. He had never wanted to look like an old man. In his mind, Scar was the kind of man he'd wanted to look like. But for whatever reason, that had never worked with this magic. He had always wondered if it was because he didn't have a good enough image in his head to form the mask from. Well, he did now. Perhaps now he might look like the man he really saw himself as.

He sat back on his heels. He knew his appearance hadn't actually changed, though. It was just the water showing what was really there. It was just doing what it was designed to do, to reveal the truth about whatever objects touched the water. It had revealed many of the blood diamonds the Logfellas were sending to Scar, and he'd been able to stop Scar getting them. He took the time to cleanse them before passing them on, just so his new friend wasn't short, much as he wished he wasn't taking their bribes at all.

Cub definitely wasn't paranoid, though, definitely not. Iskall might have pulled away from the Birchfellas but that was fine. He knew Ren. He wasn't scared of him. They'd have to try harder if they were going to scare him off from the log trade. If anything, it gave him reasons to keep to himself, and pay more attention to Scar to ensure he wasn't being ripped off. Sure, he needed the leaves and logs for his landscaping shop, but Cub would have provided those for free, or for whatever price Scar offered. No threats required.

It didn't matter, though, not in that moment. The sun was setting, and the pool was starting to glow a little. His chest felt itchy, because of course it did. Cub picked up the book, read through the very familiar words on paged that were wrinkled from water damage. He knew what to do. Had always known what to do. Whether the purity pool would even work for this kind of magic, he didn't know, but he had to try.

He set the book down, and touched the water gently, getting his hands wet. He covered his face with his hands, making sure the water touched his skin. He closed his eyes. Breathed in. Pulled the mask away. Held the energy in his hands as he formed a new mask. Prayed to anyone who might be listening that it would make him who he really hoped to be.

His hands tingled a little as the new mask formed and spread over his skin. Would he look any different? Or had it been too long, and the old mask was just permanently attached to him? The book did say that could happen. He hoped it wasn't the case, but he could still feel his beard, and it made his heart sink. It had definitely been too long. Way too long. His skin was still old and dry and a little wrinkled, his hair was still mostly missing, clinging to the back of his head with thin, grey strands, his body ached the way it had always ached. Not even the purity pool could help. Perhaps he curled into himself, doing his best to hide his tears.

Not that he was crying, no! That wouldn't be manly. And he could hear a couple of zombies approaching. He was not safe out here. Hurriedly wiping his face with his sleeve, he grabbed the book and retreated to his base, hiding underground in bed, wishing the night would pass as quickly as possible.

-

"Cub? Are you okay? I didn't- I wasn't prying, but I saw you run off, and you seemed upset. Everything okay?" Scar called.

From his bed, Cub curled up. Scar was the last person he wanted to see, but the fact that he had come after him, had even noticed something was wrong, made Cub sit up in bed. "Just a bit of a scare, that's all. Come in."

"Man, you really do love all these secret tunnels, don't you?" Scar said as he entered.

"Down and to the right, Scar," Cub said, sitting on the edge of his bed. There was going to be a conversation, and he was going to have to be okay with that. Besides, he trusted Scar a lot more than he used to, even if the very idea of telling him about the mask terrified him. No one knew about that, not even Iskall.

"Ah! There you are! Hi!" Scar said as he found him, coming to sit beside him on the bed. "So, everything okay? What scared you out there?"

Cub shrugged. "I dunno. Think I saw something out of the corner of my eye or something, you know how it is out there."

"Oh yeah, definitely! But you're alright now, yeah?" Scar said.

"I think so. I mean-"

Cub paused. Scar brought him into a hug, sitting back as he let him go.

"There, that better? I just thought you needed a hug!" Scar said, smiling at him.

"Thanks, yeah, that was nice," Cub said.

"It's something else, I can tell. It's in your face. What don't you want to tell me? Have those Logfellas been getting to you? I'll have to hurt them if they've done anything to you!" Scar said.

Cub looked down, stared at his hands. Didn't even know where to start. So, he pulled out that old, old book, where it fell open at the mask spell, and showed it to him. Magic, maybe magic would help him understand.

"Oh? What's this?" Scar took the book and read it. "Hmm. Oh! You know, I did think there was something magical about you! I can sense these things, yeah! That explains a lot! Are you- so wait, are you wanting to have a mask, or are you currently wearing a mask? Because I think I'm getting confused now!"

"Both. This-. I didn't want to look like this. But this is what I'm stuck with. I can't change it now, I tried. I've tried so many times to make it more like me, but I can't. I guess I'm just-"

Cub wasn't sure any of this was making sense. There were too many emotions swirling around in his head. Scar touched his cheek, and Cub looked up at him.

"Cub, I don't give a damn what you look like, alright? I care about who you are, and I love that person so much. You could look like, I dunno, some kind of monster and I'd still be your friend! You're going to have to try better than that to push me away!" Scar said.

"I-"

Cub couldn't find the right words, accepted Scar's hug anyway, and figured that was as close as he was ever going to come to telling Scar the truth. The rest of the night brought no more confessions, but Cub did appreciate his company.

-

"I dunno, I'm not sure this is going to work. The book warned after a while, it just sticks, and you can't change it," Cub said.

Cub was once again staring into the waters of the purity pool, the book once again by his side. This time, Scar was with him. Cub wasn't sure this was going to work, but Scar wanted them to at least try. The sun was slowly setting.

"I know, I know, but hey! I have different magic to you! It might work if I help!" Scar said.

"Yeah, it might, I guess. Only one way to find out though," Cub said.

"True. Now, what do I need to do? I need to touch you, right? Lay my hands on your head? Something like that?" Scar said.

"Yeah, something like that, I think. I'm not really sure how the magic works, if I'm honest," Cub said.

"We'll figure it out," Scar said.

"Hmmhmm," Cub said, unsure how much hope he should have.

He dipped his hands in the water again, and closed his eyes, covering his face as he thought about what he wanted the mask to look like as he withdrew the old one. He could feel Scar's hands on his head, and his magic mixing with his felt- warm. In a good way?

Cub breathed. Heard Scar muttering something under his breath. Cub tried to focus on the mask's appearance. Tried to bring up a face that looked like Scar's. Young, handsome, masculine, the kind of face he'd always longed to have. He was quietly glad he had his face covered too, so Scar couldn't see how obviously feminine it still was after all these years. He didn't want to look at it. Hated how it looked in the water's reflection. It wasn't him. Would never be him. Scar could never know. Would never see that face if Cub could help it.

A swirl of magic flooded his head, and he felt a little dizzy. The mask was returning, Cub could feel it, but what it looked like, he didn't know. As the magic subsided, he sat back on his heels, opening his eyes to the moon rising into the sky.

"It didn't work, did it?" Cub said, feeling his face to find the beard still there.

"No, it didn't work. Now I'm mad! I was so sure that would work!" Scar said.

Cub sighed. "I think the book's right, I'm stuck like this now. I never wanted to look like this. I wanted to look like you!"

"The world only needs one Scar, my friend. You keep being you, Cub. I'll keep searching. One day I'll find a way to fix this, just you wait."

"Nah, you don't have to. I mean, this was my fault. I did this to myself and now I gotta live with it," Cub said. "Thanks for trying though."

"No, I mean it, I'll see what I can find. There must be something out there. Now, come on, let's get to bed before it gets real dangerous out here!" Scar said, dragging Cub up by the arm.

"Sure, sounds good to me," Cub said, just managing to dodge an arrow shot by a skeleton further down the mesa.

His body didn't like running. His body didn't like much, to be fair. But Scar held his hand tightly as he led him back to his base, and slowly, Cub was beginning to feel much less alone. Maybe he'd tell Scar one day, once he'd learned to trust him. Maybe then the mask would fall for good.