#uh character fun facts for the road:

[totally-not-an-awkward-okapi]

On earth-616, The Outlaws are a short lived team of reformed Spider-man villains (Prowler, Puma, Silver Sable, Rocket Racer, and Will o’ the Wisp or Sandman) trying their best to clean up their acts and be heroes.

…But what does that make them on an earth with no Spider-Man?

[suhmingo]

I, uh, don’t know how to actually preface this. It’s really just a mini rant/pseudo-analysis of chapter 167. Which was pretty crazy. But, I loved this chapter, and yes I’m typing this with two hands.

But first let me try and do some housekeeping.

It’s perfectly fine to have an emotional, even visceral reaction to 167. That’s the point

If you feel grossed out, betrayed, unnerved, dumbstruck, or any form of bamboozled by today’s chapter then good! That means the emotional weight of the scene is working, and that you are a proper, feeling human. The

The whole point of fiction is to explore themes that would be difficult, even dangerous to experience from a place of safety. To me that’s, like the entire reason I ever wanted to become a writer, one of the most unsung broke boy jobs in the history of the world. My desire for Denji to get better in a world that is dead set on making him fail is the entire reason I have an emotional investment in the first place. Stories are inherently about conflict and the struggle with resolving conflict, that should make you uncomfortable.

Say what you want about Chainsaw Man. I can take it, I’m a big boy. But one thing that it has always had since Chapter one is a well-defined through line about the complexity of our innate desire to find some type of love fighting against the pain-wrought pathway that it leads us down. In a good story, every chapter should have some way of showing the highs and lows of that theme, and I’m pretty confident when I say that 167 perfectly shows us that.

It’s bad. Don’t let people who brag about their trauma tolerance tell you otherwise. You are well within your right to feel. But I think it would behoove people to 1. Realize that this is fiction, and its effects, though evocatory, are ultimately abstract, and 2. Realize that exploring dark themes allows people, especially a 16-25 (Or whatever the target audience for CSM is) to grapple with and think on human concepts as all encompassing as love.

From a writing standpoint, one chapter has escalated the tension of the entire story more than anything that has happened in Part 2 so far. It’s admittedly a bit early to call it peak. But looking at it as a simple story beat, that’s a fantastic chapter as far as the medium goes.

Listen, the whole point of stories since, like, Mesopotamian times was the tension between wanting a character to achieve happiness vs the hardships and trauma that life happens in life. They’re supposed to put you in a sensitive state emulative of a tense environment. I’d argue that the prevalence of escapist fiction and fandom has changed how we emotionally digest fiction. But that’s a whole nother essay.

The events of 167 aren’t some horny non-sequitur. Everything that happened is entirely a logical, if graven, extension of how we know characters.

Denji is at the lowest point we have ever seen him at. He was literally dismembered and put back together less than 10 chapters ago. The last chapter literally had him groveling on his knees at a cauldron’s brew of his own weakness, immaturity, stupidity, and horniness. I think we can all understand why he would not be in a good mental state to just lose himself in the moment. You can’t even blame Denji in this situation. He was in an entirely vulnerable state that was exploited entirely by

Yoru. Who is the literal embodiment of war. If you think that someone who represents the human fear of war is going to play fair. Turn on the news for five minutes. Yoru is a character we are not supposed to like. She’s fun, because she’s a work of fiction, but she’s arguably less trustworthy than Fami. She’s a violent, exploitative being who possesses a dead teenager. There is no “too far” for her if it’s the fastest way on the road to conquest. Reminder that before she caught feelings, her plan was literally just to castrate Denji because she thought that would further her goals. The fact that it turned into kissing was actually sparing a worse fate. IMO that savior was all in the actions of Asa.

Asa. I genuinely believe that, subconsciously, Asa wanted to kiss Chainsaw Man. Not like how it happened. Never like how it happened, but her desire for Denji/Chainsaw Man's affection has always been evident. She gets irreparably upset when she’s stood up, she makes cringe poetry for Chainsaw Man, and her entire goal as of now is in some misguided desire to make him happy. I also don’t think Asa is actually demisexual, or averse to sex. She is afraid of intimacy, which stops her from ever acting on her urges. Notice that both times Yoru has kissed Denji, it was after the idea of sex and intimacy was explicitly brought to the conversation. To me that screams that Yoru is spurred on by her host’s innate desires. Hell, it’s been shown that in the same way that Yoru has made Asa more proactive of a human being, Asa has made her feel emotions. I don’t think it's a coincidence that Yoru is blushing while kissing Denji. None of that was part of her plan. That’s Asa’s emotional influence getting the better of her in what I predict to be a fantastic role reversal of their initial contract.

This is thematically in line with how Chainsaw Man presents love and sets up deeper themes.



Remember way back in Part One when Denji was just an initial horndog and everybody kinda hated him? I hated Denji back then! When I first heard of Chainsaw Man I genuinely thought it was going to be a mommy-kink fuelled power fantasy. But I was wrong. Wonderfully wrong. Fujimoto used the allure of that idea in Makima to present a story about how dangerous and manipulative the very idea of grooming is, and how damaging that can be to a person. The same way Denji’s desire to get the approval of Makima was poisonous to him is mirrored in his desire for vapid, instantly gratifying sex is being portrayed here. I genuinely think this chapter is going to age like fine wine, and I am absolutely willing to take egg on my face if I’m wrong.

[xanadaus]

friendo i’m giving fitz a mobility aid in the sokeefitz road-trip au. he’s not gonna use his cane all the time because internalized ableism but he’s gonna have one. i was originally messaging to ask whether or not he should have one and then i was like who am i kidding this is tobi and lucas, huge cane-user-fitz enjoyers. blorbo gets a cane :) anyway hi hru

ough ough ough ough you're so correct in your assumption bestie i am a big cane!fitz believer. fun fact actually doing character design for that scooby doo au i was talking about and fitz uses a cane in that!

here's my first pass through with his design:

I'm not the happiest with the outfit tbh! but I like the color scheme a lot so I think I'll mess around with the pallette more as I tweak and revise at what I want to do. But uh yeah get ready for a sketch dump sometime soonish bc i've been collecting em for you in response to that ask!!

other than that, I'm good. Traveled for a tournament this weekend and played six games in two days. I'm a little tired but uh yk what we're pushing forward!!

[mineral-vulture]

The Road to Hell is Paved with Good Intentions

You know, for Go Rush (and Sevens) being the lighter and sillier Yugioh series in tone it really does have moments of sorrow.

OKAY I wanna talk about Sevens and Go Rush and how both series have this weird underlying of tragedy in it. So uh spoilers for both series below. Oh and it will be long.

My boyfriend @siromany and I watched Go Rush first because we were fascinated that one out of the three protags (I will die on the hill that Yuamu and Yuhi are protags along with Yudias) is an alien. We were watching it and wondering the series' connection to Sevens especially when we would see shots of Yuga. We did eventually figure out it was in the past. After we watched the episode where Yuga, Yuamu, and Yuhi go to the future as cats seeing the time period where Yuga came from we discussed the possible turmoil that Yuga feels. At this point what we knew about him was that he made rush duels in his time, somehow ended up on the past, and had to make rush duels to help prevent the valgerian's war. Seeing one of his friends inform him that the game he created, rush duels, also went through the same thing like in the real yugioh meta. Overly complicated, unfriendly to new players, and pushing out children who are the main demographic from the game. We both felt sadden for him finding this info out but it seemed like he was able to take it in a "Well that just means someone else has to come by and fix it again" sort of positive view. Not long after watching that episode I suggested we watch Sevens since this series is going to have more references and connections to it. That and there is context we are missing. So we did just that and I will say I am glad we watched it the way we did because it gave a unique perspective on both series. Watching Sevens we were able to see how the Go Rush counterparts are inversions to how each dynamic was different which was super cool. When we were getting to the ending of Sevens both of us felt the pain of knowing what was going to happen to Yuga. We kept thinking back to the Go Rush episode where he returns to his time and now that episode is more painful with full context.

Returning to Go Rush and watching Yuga's journey it truly sunk in that him going back to the present for a bit only to be told that what he did in the past did not change the present but in fact CAUSED what all happened was NOT good for Yuga to find out. Yugioh in 7 out of 8 series has always had the theme of going against destiny and being able to fight against it, Vrains being the exception, and how the main characters can prove the antagonists wrong in some way. Sevens and Go Rush seem to have more of the theme of "You can fight against destiny but there is a consequence to it and you may not like what that is". I vaguely know there are people who don't really sympathize with what Yuga did in the later half of Go Rush which like I can kind of get. However lets put ourselves in Yuga's position, shall we?

You are a 10 year old child who has been thrust into the past after trying to protect your creation from a man who wanted it destroyed. A creation that was made from joy and love of duel monsters. Trying to bring the game back to the demographic it was made for, children. Making rush duels simple to understand but also fun to play. You a stranded in a place that is both familiar and unfamiliar and you need to find a way back home. But you are stopped by a man and his crew who are demanding you to create rush duels. You don't want to do this, you know this could affect the past. But you overhear that his man's species have been fighting in a big war for a long time and that the conflict has not ceased. Dueling from your experience has brought people closer and you can communicate through to people's hearts to make them understand (a common yugioh staple about dueling) and while you may not know why this guy wants rush duels to exist or how he knows of them, you have hope that maybe this could help stop strife. Maybe making them this early wouldn't be so bad? That and maybe making it early that could mean you could change the past of dueling and therefore the future of it for the better. You not just do such but along the way meet the ancestors of people who look similar to your friends. But they aren't the same people which logically makes sense but doesn't hurt any less. They remind you of home, a place that now you have kind of given up going back to. But hey, chin up! Rush Duels ending up saving the Velgearian and ending their war! That's great, you DID have a positive impact! Making Rush duels in the past was for the better.

Wait, now these two random guys have created Maximums by turning people into cards? Uh, that is a lot worse than how they were originally made. You get turned into card and two whole years pass while you are in that state. But no worries, you know you can trust you ancestors and their Velgearian friend to solve this. It'll all be fine. You then get sent back to the present just for a bit to observe your friends. But going back you are told by one of them that Dueling became complicated and out of the reach of kids. What you did in the past didn't change it. In fact, YOU caused the same cycle to happen. You try to ignore that thought and tell yourself that it can be fixed, you can change this. You head back to the past promising you will return home...hopefully. unbeknownst to you, your presence is creating a rift between two best friends because of their feelings for you. Feelings you are unaware of because at this point you are a 12 year old boy. One of them is the ancestor of the six ceos of Goha company, a company that in the future creates duel monsters, while the other is the ancestor of the Mutsuba company that deals with construction and is of now the owner of the city. Where you came from the town was called Goha city, not Mutsuba, the descendant of Mutsuba talked about how her family lost power and how Goha took over everything. In the past both companies were super close but then everything fell...and that falling is happening before you but you aren't even aware of it. But well at least the Maximum situation has been sol-oh a prototype of the Velgearian species is causing issues? Great, okay that can be solved. While it does get solved...you find out that the Velgearian are dying and fast. They are being wiped out, but why? You thought they were immortal, what could possibly be causing their extinction? They are using their energy while rush dueling which is shortening their lifespan. The thing you created to help them is what is going to end them. You are responsible for their demise. But then you find out that proto-Velgearian was trying to find a way to stop this. That he was looking into a way to revive the Velgearian but that research stopped. Your friends are trying to complete his goal but you begin to put the pieces together and realize what is being made, Monster Reborn.

The card that began the domino effect of the destruction of Rush Duels in your time. A card that alters the memories of others. The card that caused strife between siblings where they decided to destroy rush duels along with each other. It is now sinking in how everything is repeating itself and how this could be your fault. You have to, no, you NEED to stop this. Even if it means hurting those you care about. Even if they see you as their enemy and you are alone, you have to do this. You have to destroy what you love, you have to become the person you tried stopping before coming here. You now understand why he was trying to stop you those years ago. What other option is there? You can't tell them why making this card would be bad because your Velgearian friend wants his comrades back. He won't listen. No one will listen. The needs of the many out weigh the needs of the few as they say. You fight your ancestors tooth and nail only for the card to be used and now all three of you can see each other's memories. Your ancestors now know what all will happen. You loose against them and the card is now unleashed. You couldn't stopped it. Your duel caused a rift in reality to open where now you can go home but you are leaving behind a road of the damage you have caused. Made worse with the fact that Monster Reborn can't even revive the Velgearian which is why the proto-Velgearian stopped his research. Making the card was pointless, and trying to stop it was utterly pointless. Your fighting to change the future only caused it to happen. You have to live with that. But not just you, but your ancestors too.

I know this is the goofy card game show but what the fuck. I didn't expect Yuga to become one of the most tragic yugioh protags. Watching his desperation of trying to stop the pain that is going to happen in his time and in turn having to destroy the very thing he loves was just heartbreaking. Anyway, I hope whoever reads this enjoyed my ramblings on Sevens and Go Rush. That and I hope people who weren't sympathetic to Yuga try to at least understand my perspective and such. Though I tend to like tragic characters a lot so maybe that is why I am sympathetic to him.

[raindailies]

the chase is over. ᝰ.ᐟ

HACKER!SHU YAMINO x CRIMINAL!READER ──★ ˙ ̟ !!

INFO: you've been playing a game of chase with an infamous hacker who goes by Shu. He's finally caught up to you, after years. What will you do?

WARNINGS: major character death, angst no comfort, descriptions of blood, suicide ; no use of y/n

A/N: i wrote this at 12 am on a school night with a french test tomorrow so this is probably rlly shit spare me

English isn't my first language - so excuse any grammatical mistakes and bare with me here (╥_╥)

words:

𝐒𝐇𝐔 𝐘𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎 ✦ !

Who would've thought things would end like this?

Roughly 3 years ago, while simply robbing a small shop just down the road, you met face to face with an infamous hacker. You managed to slip out of his grasp then, but he had made it his mission to catch you with all his might - though you were a difficult one to deal with. You always ran away somehow, and it was like a never ending cycle.

Or so you thought.

He'd come close to catching you, and you'd slip away right as he's about to get you. You'd come close to finding out where he lives and boom it's actually a random garage. It was like a cat and mouse game. Over. And over. And over again.

A never-ending game.

Until it ended.

There you two were face to face with the man that has been hunting you for 3 consecutive years. You both standing on a rooftop, you stand near the edge of the rooftop, while he stands firmly in the middle. You have nowhere else to go. He finally caught you. He should feel proud, and satisfied, right? That's what he thought too.

"Looks like I lost" you smile, turning back to him.

"..don't say that." Shu mumbles, as his purple eyes interlocked with yours.

you smile.

he frowns.

"When are they arriving? The police, I mean." you chuckle bitterly, facing the man that you've been dreading to kill, but now that he's in front of you, you feel something else entirely.

Shu frowns, silent.

"Oh come on, don't tell me you didn't call the police, you must have." You knew he did.

"..are you really okay with this?" he mumble.

"No, not really. I wish our game went on for longer." You smile, dryly. "I had fun you know? Despite everything, the game was the highlight of my days"

"..it was mine too" he admits, his head low.

"you know, I never saw you close up" You turn to look at him, closely. His eyes reflected the midnight blue skies behind you. His purple eyes stare back at you, and the wind is softly blowing his hair around. He was charming, quite more than you had remembered.

"you're pretty." You breathe out, as you observe his flushed face.

"I- what. Uh.. you're. You're pretty too.." He finally mutters, his voice shaking as he avoids your piercing gaze. It wasn't a lie, no, in fact, he thought you were drop-dead gorgeous when he first saw you years ago. Ever more gorgeous now, his gaze is fixated on your figure.

"I take it you're not very happy. Why is that? Aren't you happy to finally be catching me after all that time? I must've been a pain in your ass, I apologize." You softly chuckle, though tears were threatening to spill at that point.

"..no. No not really. I- Thank you. Thank you for just..being you. It was really fun." He sighs as he comes to the realization of his own feelings. He thought it was just the adrenaline during those chases, but it was butterflies.

"whoop, there they come." You laugh, your eyes peering down at the police cars and sirens heading your way.

"I'm sorry." To your surprise, you look back, to see Shu with tears running down his eyes.

"Wh- no don't be sorry! I knew this day would come anyway." You quickly waved his tears off.

"I've grown to really like you over all that time Shu." You spoke again, this time, approaching him softly. As you stood near him, your hand brought his face to look at you in the eye, but tears were blinding his sight.

You sigh, using your thumb to wipe away some of his tears. "I'm sorry for everything I've done, maybe in another universe, we could've been friends, or more." you smile softly at him as his eyes widen in the realization of your next actions.

You quickly pulled him in for a hug, tightly, as Shu very quickly returned the favor. He hugs you back while sobbing on your shoulder, his weight falls on you.

"I'm so sorry." He mumbles through his tears.

"Don't be. I'm just glad we got to meet each other" You laugh softly, as the police come closer with each passing second. "In another universe, yeah?"

He nods.

"Good good, I'm sorry for this." You spoke lightly, softly tearing yourself away from the hug as the noises from the sirens and police yelling got louder by the minute. Shu's eyes widen in shock as he realizes your intentions now.

"no wait-!" He calls out to you, his legs just had to be so numb that he couldn't move. His breathing got rapidly faster as he saw you going closer and closer to the edge of the building.

one step.

another.

"thank you for being with me Shu! Our time together was short but the best I could ever ask for." You exclaim from the edge of the building.

Shu's ears were ringing, and everything in his body urged him to run at you.

"I love you." Your last words were uttered, and you finally let your body fall back.

in another universe, we'd be inseparable. But not this one.

© 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒 - all rights reserved. please do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or share my work on other platforms in any way, shape, or form without my permission. if found, you WILL be blocked.

❝𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞, 𝐢 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥.❞

[dilfyjilfy]

I'm sorry, but i'm just gonna need the jc stans who say shit like "Omg, just ignore the canon jc tag and the antis won't bother you" to stop talking, and for multiple reasons.

1) Uh, the whole issue is that jc antis don't actually stick to the canon jc tag. Jc antis will use the canon jc tag as well as every other general mdzs tag (including the regular jc tag), so that their posts still show up even when you're actively trying to ignore them. The only tag I visit on tumblr is the regular jc tag, and you know what I would see every time I visited it from jc antis? 'This post contains filtered tags'. There is no reason I should have to block multiple people from multiple mdzs tags every single time I visit tumblr, but the fact that I had to just shows that jc antis weren't following basic fandom etiquette, and haven't been for a very long time.

2) I guess the jc stans who say shit like 'I love jc, but he is fictional so I don't feel the need to defend him' are ignoring the fact that 99% of the jc antis (on here and twitter) are mentally ill cyberbullies who 100000% have attacked REAL PEOPLE over liking a fictional character. If you have never seen a jc anti account send insults and threats to a jc stans page, hop on their posts to insult their intelligence and more, take screenshots of jc stans work (while showing their account name) just to post it somewhere else to make fun of them, bully stans out of fandom spaces, create alternate accounts once they get blocked by too many stans just to continue wrecking havoc, blaze their anti jc stan and anti jc posts so that everyone can see it, etc...then you must have been interacting with this fandom with both of your eyes closed. When I first joined this fandom a few years ago (and even then, the only tag I ever went in was the regular jc tag), the behavior of jc antis was soo bad that creating an account was necessary, just so I could block them and protect myself. Nobody should have to take such measures against people who think that it's appropriate to torment people over liking a fictional character that they don't. These are not people who deserve to be shown grace.

3) JC antis are like roaches, in that you could spend an hour blocking them, and as soon as that hour is up, here comes another one, not respecting fandom etiquette, or the other people involved in the fandom who are not apart of their clique. So I'm not gonna disparage any stan who is fed up and thinks it's time to stop taking the high road, and I'm gonna use whatever tag I want, cause that's what the roaches do.

4) And before you say anything like "I saw jc stans doing the same thing jc antis have done", then I just think that's interesting, because in all the years I've been apart of the fandom, I've never seen a stan start an argument. Engage in one once prompted by an anti (after they've made a jc stan hate/insult post and posted it in the regular jc tag), make a rant post in response to something an anti has said or done? Yeah, but never the level of bullying that jc antis regularly engage in, so please keep your delusions and comments to yourself.

TLDR: some of y'all are in denial about how bad jc antis have been, and you need to stop with the delusions.

[foxymoxynoona]

To Kill A King (Chapter 15)

Banner and linebreaks by the talented @awrkives

Summary: What’s more charming than Prince Seokjin? Nothing, obviously. Except maybe the rotating palace guests who each smile and bow and charm in an attempt to hide their true motives. Fortunately Seokjin has a close circle of friends (well, servants) who watch his back and endure his humor and help him navigate the tumultuous seas of heartbreak, love, and an arranged marriage, not necessarily in that order. If only they had helped him keep a closer eye on his bride-to-be’s handmaiden, who arrives with her own agenda… or maybe it would have been better if he had noticed her less? One thing is certain as this royal drama of the heart plays out: there are many people competing to kill a king.

Main Pairing: Prince Seokjin x Female OC Genre: Historical Fantasy World, political conspiracy, romance Rating: 18+ Content Warnings & story tags: includes explicit sex (mxf, fxf), possibly graphic violence/injury later, love and sex triangles or uh quadrangles?, sort of e 2 l, sort of bodyguard trope, sort of arranged marriage, a lot of plotting murder (it’s literally in the title), maybe character death, grief, pining, angst, love, oral (f & m receiving), public sex, I don’t know everything yet as the story is long and still being written

PREVIOUS | MASTERLIST | NEXT

NOTE: check out the Character & Setting Cheat Sheet for a refresher on who’s who

Nasimyu stopped beneath the towering archway built of dark-eyed yellow sunbursts woven together. It was magnificent. Actually as lovely as Seokjin had made it out to be –which he seemed to read from her face as her hand in his elbow forced him to stop too. He only glanced briefly up at the arch and then gave her a close-lipped smile that made his cheeks puff up. He looked ridiculous, like a child, not like her soon-to-be-husband of a future king. 

She drew in a deep breath and looked away from him. She needed to stop letting her mind run away with annoyance over stupid stuff. Everything was going as planned and Seokjin, she was beginning to suspect, might not be the selfish villain her father had led her to believe, and now silver threads shot through the fabric of her future. Things were looking less bleak. Seokjin might look and behave ridiculously, but he was good in bed, and he was potentially willing to just let her do the ruling she wanted to, and the day was bright and hot and only a little humid, just the way she liked it. And everything was so yellow, golden, perfect. 

Behind them, their guards stopped. The entourage of servants stopped. Mindeulle and Namjoon –whom Nasimiyu was icily tolerating for the day– stopped. 

King Dong-gun did not. He stepped around them, striding through the arch as if it had been set up specifically to welcome the royals (perhaps it had), his beaming face turned up as he waved at the townspeople who cheered for him. They tossed petals down from upper stories of the buildings, a hailstorm of clumps of yellow petals that made her laugh. It was a romantic idea, at least.

Obviously they must put the folks who licked the boots of the monarchy at the front. Nasimiyu was shocked to see so many pretending to adore the sight of the king. A woman fanned herself when King Donggun bobbed his head in her direction. Two men guffawed and shared a grin after the king slapped them on the shoulders as he passed. Hands reached for him until his guard nudged him safely to the center of the road and they carried forward through the shower.

“They love him?” Nasimiyu murmured to herself, baffled. It was a pretense. Most people in the kingdom, she knew for a fact, despised him. King Donggun and his excesses, his complacency, his casual cruelty.

“They don’t see him often,” Seokjin said as he gently tugged her forward. “He rarely leaves the palace these days, unless it’s to hunt in the caves. Brings the fun to himself usually but for this he comes out. I suspect he’s rather… pickled.”

“Pickled?”

“Er, drunk,” he clarified.

“Right now?! It’s mid-morning!” There, that seemed more in-line with what she expected of the King. 

No, this wasn’t the time nor place. She quickly adjusted her expression from scowl to instead a broad, open smile. People were watching her and Seokjin. This was, after all, their first public outing together.

It was very important she impress her people.

She waved and almost missed Seokjin’s explanation, “Well, it’s my mother’s birthday tomorrow.”

“Shouldn’t you smile and wave?” she whispered back. “People are seeing us together for the first time.”

“Oh right.” His face, thoughtful for a moment, shifted quickly into a broad grin. It was inspirational how quickly he dropped the obviously sad topic. She recalled vaguely the Sunflower Festival was something his mother had loved but forgotten it under the stress of this first outing. She’d had a special gown made for this, and woven sunflowers into a crown across her hair, and was appeased now to see she had not overestimated and overdressed.

Music murmured in the distance, louder as they traveled down the main street. Temporary stalls had sprung up, townfolk selling flowers and roasted nuts and sausages on a stick and glass pendants and leather satchels and anything else you could think of. Side streets showed similar, branching away from this main thoroughfare. And everywhere, sunflowers. Everywhere. They reached a square and the fountain in the center was absolutely buried, the water nothing but a pool of sunflowers rippling as small children grabbed at them. 

Nasimiyu felt the eyes on her and loved it. She held her chin high and the prince close, sporting the soft smile of a benefactor, eager for everyone to see how compatible she was with the royal family. Seokjin certainly played his part, pointing out things to her as if she didn’t have eyes of her own to notice, but at least it gave the impression of a man eager to please his adored. She nodded encouragement –yes she saw the man playing the accordion (a little grating, shouldn’t he go down a side street?), yes the children in their frocks were adorable, yes the dog wearing a giant fabric sunflower around his face was so funny. Seokjin laughed, delighted at it and leaned forward, trying to coax the dog close. The owner was beside himself at this attention and practically melted at Seokjin’s feet while Seokjin laid his praise of the dog on so thick Nasimiyu thought the man would realize how fake he was. It had to be fake. No one was that enamored by a dog in a costume…

“Do you want a sausage?” Seokjin asked and at first Nasimiyu thought he meant the dog. But he rose quickly and touched her arm and his whole face glowed with joy. “Or roasted peanuts? Or do you like candy floss more?”

Nasimiyu realized with shock that Seokjin was offering to get her food from one of the roadside stands. Anything could be in that food! The meat could be undercooked or the peanuts could be infested with bugs, you wouldn’t even know. It wasn’t that they didn’t have street vendors in Marvono but she certainly wasn’t eating from them.

But he looked so hopeful about it she almost felt bad to crush his enthusiasm with, “I don’t think I do. Thank you.”

Behind him, Namjoon let out a sigh, “Ah the fried chicken is back, I can smell it. Where is it?”

“Is that the only reason you came?” Mindeulle tittered.

“If you’re going right to the candy floss, have someone take you– no, just wait, we’ll get that first and then go find the chicken,” Namjoon said.

Seokjin craned his neck before nodding, “It’s over there. I think it’s the same family as last year.”

“Do I get a beer first and let it get warm while I get chicken, or get chicken and then it’s cooled off by the time I get a beer?” Namjoon sighed. 

Seokjin looked pensive and then dubious –playfully so, mouth twisted into a pucker, eyes narrowed– and then sighed with a smile of surrender, “If you have an idea just say it. Don’t play like a flirt around me.”

“I’ll get beers if you get the chicken.”

“Don’t you have people who can… fetch these things for you?” Nasimiyu pointed out, gaze sliding to their servants standing uselessly behind them. Her own maid might not be very knowledgeable here but surely that Jimin could figure it out. 

“It’s good for the people to see us among them,” Seokjin countered. She didn’t think that had to mean waiting in line like a nobody. He gestured across the square where, to her utter disbelief, King Donggun stood in line for a mead barrel, hands resting on his belly, fingers twitching impatiently.

“Impossible,” Nasimiyu gasped, giving Seokjin her look of disbelief.

It was Mindeulle who giggled, “Isn’t it crazy to see the king standing in line? But it’s because of the Queen, isn’t it?”

“Yes, he loved my mother so much he was willing to stand in lines,” Seokjin laughed, then elaborated, “This whole festival was for my mother. She loved sunflowers and she missed being…” He searched for the word before suggesting, “Ordinary.”

“She was never ordinary. She was a noble from birth,” Namjoon countered. “From Rinsk.”

“Yes but she was raised very simply,” Seokjin said. “Riding horses, gardening, camping for fun. She had to make her own bed once a week –my grandmother insisted on it, that it was the foundation of being a good queen.”

“And did that get passed on to you?” Nasimiyu tried to tease.

Seokjin nodded, “Oh yes, I’m very good at making a bed. Clean sheets are one of the greatest feelings in the world. Don’t you think that?”

“Well… yes. I think so too,” she admitted. Couldn’t argue with that. At home servants would fan the bed so when she’d slip into it naked at the end of a long hot day, it felt like the coolest caress across every inch of her skin. 

King Donggun let out a happy laugh that reached them across the square as he found himself at the front of the line for mead.

She pressed, “Does he really pretend to be a commoner for the day?”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Seokjin laughed. “You see his clothing and his entourage. He’ll have patience for exactly three lines, I bet. It was more when he had my mother to stand in line with. They’d go around all day eating the food, drinking mead and beer, listening to music… I got to run wild for the day too. My brother and I were nearly street urchins for eight hours except for our pockets full of silvers. We ate ourselves sick.” He sighed at fond memories she did not poke at. 

“You could be the kind of king who does this all the time,” Mindeulle pointed out and Seokjin gave her such a fond smile that Nasimiyu almost felt jealous of it.

“I suspect I’ll be too busy once I’m king… but who says I don’t lead a secret double life as a commoner already?”

Namjoon sighed dramatically and teased, “Do you really still spend all your time reading those picture-books? That’s who you mean, isn’t it?”

“Kalamouche?” Mindeulle asked. “They’re charming. I’m glad you still find moments of joy, Prince Seokjin. Nasimiyu will need to as well, though I don’t think it’s the food here for her. Why don’t you go get your chicken and beer, we’ll find something else to do.”

Nasimiyu hesitated. The whole point was to look besotted with Seokjin, to exude an air of calm and benevolence and wisdom as a future ruler. No one would think oh look at our future queen, we’re so relieved if she was just running around with Mindeulle.

But now Seokjin and Namjoon were making a gentleman’s agreement to divide and conquer –apparently Seokjin could tolerate Namjoon after all, once there was food involved– and in short order they and their entourage were gone, and Nasimiyu had only Mindeulle and her own entourage for company.

“It’s all right not to trust the food,” Mindeulle assured her. “Though some of it is very good. I usually let my brother be the tester before I try anything but let’s go that way and we can look at the flower statues. Maybe you’ll see a pastry that catches your eye.”

“Is it a competition?” Nasimiyu guessed as they wandered down a side street. Statues of dancing women and galloping horses and curly seashells lined one side of the road, all carefully constructed of beautiful blue and pink and white blooms. It felt oddly off-theme considering the sunflowers everywhere else but pretty all the same. Where did they even get these spring-looking blooms at this time of year?

“These come in from Therepin. The summers are cooler there so the blooms last longer, especially far to the south.”

“Not near the border,” Nasimiyu murmured, thinking of marching soldiers crushing the buds underfoot.

“They’re the most beautiful there, I hear. I’ve never been anywhere close of course. I’m sure these are very expensive to bring here but no expense is spared for the Sunflower Festival.”

“I can see that.”

“It’s romantic, isn’t it?” Mindeulle pressed. “I think for one day, the King tries to pretend that his queen is still here, maybe just down another side street…” They both stopped to look over their shoulders because Mindeulle had a wistfulness in her voice. The pause let Nasimiyu realize that her guard were doing such a marvelous job at keeping a perimeter around her that it let her forget just how bustling the streets were. No ghosts of queens, just hundreds of townfolk gawking at her as they passed around her bubble of space

“People sure do stare,” she pointed out. “I don’t have anything between my teeth, do I?”

She knew she didn’t, and Mindeulle only beamed at her, “I think they’re surprised at how beautiful you are.”

“You don’t need to flatter me,” Nasimiyu said, instinctively insulted by such a compliment from the lovely Mindeulle. Her long, shiny black hair caught the light, cascading around her shoulders and down her back, all dark ink instead of the warm hues hidden in Dulce’s long waves. Her heart-shaped face was without flaw or blemish save for one beauty spot beside her nose that managed to be the loveliest imperfection. Nasimiyu had no doubts about her own beauty, but felt suddenly self conscious if Mindeulle felt like Nasimiyu needed comforting.

Mindeulle actually covered her mouth and laughed, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to insult you with a compliment! I only meant that you look especially goddess-like when you have sunflowers in your hair, their color against your skin and hair is just… breath-taking, that’s all I meant,” she rushed out. “You already look like a queen.”

“Without the prince by my side, no one knows who I am.”

“I think they know,” Mindeulle insisted, then nudged Nasimiyu up the street with a gasp of, “Oh, but you should try those. Will you?”

“Will I try what?”

Mindeulle cheeks dimpled on either side of her smile as she leaned around the line at a stall that smelled so strongly of sugar that Nasimiyu wrinkled her nose. She was not big on sweets, even when the sweets weren’t hawked on a street corner like spoons or boots or whatever it was people typically bought from street vendors. But Mindeulle practically vibrated in place as she dug coins out of the purse at her waist and purchased four skewers of candied fruit.

“Grapes or strawberries?” she asked as they stepped aside. Nasimiyu glanced over her shoulder at her guards who looked stoic and alert and maybe like she was stupid for coming here. Her maid watched with open curiosity, as Nasimiyu’s food preferences were well known among her staff. Mindeulle must know she didn’t prefer sweets, she thought she must have said so before, but had clearly forgotten in her own enthusiasm.

“I suppose… strawberries,” Nasimiyu chose, only to correct, “No, grapes.” Sometimes grapes were sour and that was a little better than the cloying sweetness. She could pretend like she was drinking sweet wine maybe. No, she didn’t even like sweet wine.

“Have one of each,” Mindeulle insisted, handing her two sticks, like she had planned this all along. She took hold of a candied grape between her teeth and slid it right off the stick. Nasimiyu’s eyebrows raised. Wasn’t Mindeulle usually so proper and careful? Surely Namjoon would have something to say about his little sister biting and sliding fruit just right there on the street. 

By Mindeulle’s grin, Nasimiyu wondered if she had the same thought. There was something to her smile as she chewed, giggling,

“Listen, you can hear the sugar crack.” She opened her mouth and bit down. The sugar did audibly crack, and juice flooded Mindeulle’s mouth, and Nasimiyu couldn’t hide her shocked laughter.

“Mindeulle!”

“Don’t scold me like my mother,” she tittered. “Try it.”

Nasimiyu did, goaded into it by Mindeulle’s brazenness. She tried a strawberry first, trying to be a little less salacious as she bit the fruit off the thin stick. The sticky sweetness in her mouth made her lips pucker and her cheeks suck in. 

“That’s… very sweet,” she admitted.

“Isn’t it wonderful?” 

Why was she eating this? But Mindeulle’s enthusiasm convinced Nasimiyu to try a grape too and agree with Mindeulle they were really something remarkable. 

Just as Nasimiyu was trying to figure out how to subtly chuck the fruit away, a familiar voice called, “Princess Nasimiyu!” Lidmila floated to her side, admitted there by the guards at a nod of Nasimiyu’s that was probably not necessary. “Oh, I love those.”

“Try them,” Nasimiyu quickly said and thrust them into Lidmila’s hands. A loud street band wandered past so she couldn’t hear whatever Lidmila or Mindeulle shouted next, but Lidmila quickly popped the remaining fruits into her mouth and Mindeulle didn’t even seem to notice. Nasimiyu needed something to wash her mouth free of that sugar –solved when another divine intervention sent Seokjin and Namjoon their way, each holding fried chicken on a stick and a mug of beer.

“Is all the food on sticks?” Nasimiyu asked, followed immediately by, “May I have a sip of your beer, Seokjin?”

“Yes, of course, I’m sorry I didn’t get you one. Do you… like beer?” he asked. She did not particularly, and after only a sip wondered if the fruit hadn’t been the better lingering taste. He chuckled as she handed it quickly back and instead held the skewer out. “Chicken?”

“No thank you, I’m quite full.”

“Oh let’s walk down that way and see if there’s a play on,” Mindeulle suggested.

Namjoon snickered and teased his sister, “A puppet show?”

“Or a comedy.”

“The comedies won’t start until later, it’s only puppet shows right now.”

“You don’t know that.”

“It’s not even noon yet.”

“There’s one way to settle this,” Seokjin suggested and forged ahead. Namjoon and Mindeulle followed, and Nasimiyu found herself shockingly left behind with Lidmila.

“Did he just forget me?” Nasimiyu gasped.

“No, he looked back for you!” Lidmila assured her. “He sees you’re with me. Probably he’s trying to keep Namjoon from bothering you.” 

This placated Nasimiyu, who didn’t mind walking with Lidmila anyway. 

“Do you want me to suggest something else to eat?” Lidmila asked. “I think you don’t like candied fruit much or beer.”

“I don’t but I don’t think I’m brave enough yet for anything else.”

The crowds spread out further as they returned to a main street, walking vaguely in the wake of the others. They passed a balcony with a woman singing opera, which surprised Nasimiyu; she hadn’t considered there was any opera to be had here. She asked Lidmila about what the theater was like, what was popular here, and Lidmila enthusiastically explained all the entertainment to be found here.

“We can attend any of it you like,” Lidmila assured her. “I wonder if it’s very different in Marvono?”

“We shall find out. Oh, Lidmila, before I forget and while I have you alone…”

Lidmila’s face turned up to her, very open and curious, almost fearfully so, as she pressed, “Yes? What is it?”

“I wonder if I might ask for a favor.”

“Of course you may.”

“I would like to see the letters that Namjoon allegedly sent to Çiğdem.”

“Oh.” Lidmila’s eyes widened. 

“I’m familiar with Namjoon’s hand from letters he’s written to the King which were shown to me. I’m curious if a simple comparison might tell us whether it’s a match or not,” Nasimiyu explained.

Lidmila pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes, adorably suspicious, and asked, “Did Mindeulle put you up to this?”

“I act on my own accord,” Nasimiyu assured her.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to insult you! Only I know Mindeulle has doubts which you didn’t share about the truth of his character, seeing as what happened with...” She didn’t need to say it. Your maid.

“Yes well I’m trying to understand what exactly did happen with my maid, and what Lord Namjoon Kim’s character is, seeing as he proves difficult for the Prince to shake.” They came into view of the stage and a seated audience of almost entirely children, and standing behind all the children were Seokjin, Namjoon, and Mindeulle, all three equally enraptured by the puppet show. 

Lidmila only glanced at the puppets before admitting, “She may not wish to part with them. Çiğdem, I mean.”

“Will you try? For me?”

“Yes, I can at least try. Hopefully I can do better than try. I’ll see if I can get at least one,” Lidmila assured her.

“Thank you, it means a great deal to me to have your help.”

Lidmila positively glowed, her wispy brown curls framing her face so sweetly that it struck Nasimiyu what a blessing it was that Lidmila was so good-hearted. Such an innocent face would be hard to say no to. She could do wonders with it, if she were someone with a sharper mind or harder heart. But then she wouldn’t be gentle, bubbling Lidmila.

“It’s a story about King Donggun and Queen So-yeon,” Lidmila told her after a loud noise from the stage made them both glance over. “He loved her so much he made this whole festival for her.”

“So I hear. How tragic that she died.”

“I wonder what Prince Seokjin will do to show his love for you?”

“Whatever it is, I intend to be around much longer to enjoy it,” Nasimiyu said without thinking that it might sound crass. 

Before she could correct herself, Lidmila agreed, “You will be. And don’t worry, I’ll make suggestions if it seems like the Prince needs some… proper good ideas.” Nasimiyu smiled at her appreciatively, she did seem quite adept at managing things. Her confidence that Nasimiyu would live a long time was also sweet, though arguably unfounded based on how long women seemed to last in the royal family –Zselyke notwithstanding. Which was, perhaps, curious and suspicious. She wondered what Dulce would think of that question–

If only she could ask Dulce, who could no doubt make sure she lived a long, safe life here, if she cared to. She trusted no one more with her safety. It was unfortunate Dulce could no longer be trusted with her confidence, or her intimacy, or… was it her heart? No, that would be pathetic.

She glanced back at her maid who was not Dulce, and her guards who were also not Dulce. A backdrop of sunflowers loomed behind them. Really, Dulce ought to have come to this, even if they were mad at each other right now. As beautiful as Mindeulle and Lidmila both looked around the blossoms, as beautiful as Nasimiyu looked with them in her hair, she was aware these were the flower for Dulce. Something about them… 

“Nasimiyu,” Seokjin greeted, suddenly by her arm. “I found you a seat. Come watch the show.”

“The puppet show?”

“It’s got romance and tragedy, and the puppet for my father looks shockingly accurate. Come on,” he insisted, practically dragging her along.

Nasimiyu decided she was probably going to develop a headache soon. Maybe. She kind of liked it here too, although maybe not watching a puppet show for children. Well, she supposed it was a good look though for her and Seokjin to watch an unobjectionable performance together. She perched on the bench he had claimed for her with Mindeulle and Lidmila on either side, and tried to look queenly with her chin high and shoulders, Seokjin stood behind her, hand pressed to her shoulder. Eventually he dropped his hand and she was glad.

“Do you like puppets?” Mindeulle leaned in and whispered.

“No,” Nasimiyu whispered back, and both girls giggled as if she, like the puppets on stage, was doing something remarkably romantic by being here. Instead she let her mind wander. How long were she and Dulce going to be angry with each other? Would Dulce have liked the candied fruit? Would she have slid the grape off with her teeth like Mindeulle had? 

Namjoon’s chuckle reminded Nasimiyu he was there and she felt her heart harden again. It was good Dulce wasn’t enjoying the festival. Hopefully she was enjoying doing the laundry instead.

What few footsteps remained seemed to echo around the palace, a combination of clipped, angry steps by those annoyed not to be off at the Sunflower Festival and slow, heavy slides of those who did not feel intrinsically compelled to get their tasks done quickly.

Dulce tried to make no sound at all as she moved through the near-empty halls, a load of laundry perched in her arms and an oversized canvas bag looped over her shoulder with feathers and lightweight wooden rods poking out, and secretly a lantern. To any casual observer, it would hopefully look like a bag full of hat-making things –not that Dulce knew the first thing about making hats, but the bulky decorations were the best disguise she could envision for what would soon hopefully be several stolen paintings. She didn’t plan on being seen afterwards, but you still had to think through these things.

Already she’d had to reroute twice and was just about to make up her mind that she should take the long way out back and down the mountain to the external entrance hidden behind the ivy after all. It would waste time though, was the problem. She had a lot to do in a short amount of time. King Donggun had left the palace, which she understood to happen only for hunts, but his reason for leaving was to attend the Sunflower Fest in honor of his late wife whose birthday was tomorrow. She might not understand their relationship but she fully expected him to visit the Queen’s rooms in the near future, possibly even today, and she needed to be long finished by then. 

The only obstacle was fucking Hoseok, that damn nosy tutor to the prince! Despite his loud enthusiasm about the festival for the past week, he sure seemed unbothered to be one of those left behind to tend to matters around the palace. He strode along as if it were any other day, delivering letters and notes around the palace, checking that the throne room was clean, and even apparently doing a headcount of the guards! The palace had both a castellan and butlers supposed to be doing those things, but no one seemed surprised to see Hoseok doing it instead. They just scurried to dust the corner he’d looked twice at or rushed to reassure that the new table linens were on the way and would be pressed and laid out before dinner. Perhaps he was the sort of work-dedicated person who cherished a well-run palace even more than a festival.

His diligence was going to cause a problem for Dulce though because she was not the sort of work-dedicated person one would expect to see passionately going about her tasks without Nasimiyu around. Everyone knew Nasimiyu was pissed at her. They’d all probably heard Mirta shrieking at her about the laundry she hadn’t done when she’d gone to sit on the seawall and enjoy the sunset instead. With the Prince.

The problem about Hoseok wasn’t only that he was busybodying around the palace, but also that repeatedly seeing her would embed her in his memory. When someone eventually discovered the Queen’s rooms were ransacked, Hoseok would run through the list of people he knew were in the palace and Dulce would top that list if he saw her so many times. 

It led her to doing suspicious things like darting out of the hallway every time she heard footsteps in case they were his –and she hated doing suspicious things. 

One more try she decided, and balanced her linens and the canvas bag and set off for the Queen’s wing with a determined step. Her whole body was on alert listening for anyone who might see even just a glimpse of her, listening for the obnoxious click of Hoseok’s books on the tile floor, hell even the skitter skitter of an escaped pet of the Prince’s.

But nothing came, and the guards in the wing were ambling down the hall and around the corner at just the right time so without even a heartbeat of hesitation Dulce opened the door and slid quickly inside. 

For a moment she stood there with her back to it, waiting as she had last time to make sure no one had noticed after all. She was met with only silence. This time too she made a brisk survey of all the rooms, checking the wardrobe to make sure no one followed Taehyung’s tricks. How mortifying to have been caught that way. She was no smarter than the man who’d been killed in the inn and suddenly realizing the hypocrisy of her judgment at his lapse made her feel even stupider.

Well she wasn’t here to self-reflect, even though something about the preserved rooms made it feel like the time to do so. Now that she was sure she was alone, she set the linens and bag near the door hidden in the back of the closet and walked more thoughtfully through the rooms. Her plan was set –trash the rooms, take the painting and a few other things, make it look like a burglary– and yet when it came time to execute, she felt an unfamiliar hesitation.

Maybe it had to do with Seokjin’s mother staring down at her from the wall. She stared back up at her and noticed once again how much Seokjin looked like her. He had her cheeks, which was not something she’d ever considered a son inheriting from his mother before. He had her eyes too and her nose, her faceshape… did he actually have anything at all from King Donggun? Her hair was lighter, there was that. Maybe his eyebrows were more like his father… She tilted her head–

No, this wasn’t what she was here for. She needed to get the job done and go. 

She reached for the painting and hesitated again.

Seokjin was going to be sad about her wrecking his mother’s room. There was no way around that. She hadn’t let herself think about that part of her agreement with Taehyung. King Donggun was treating Taehyung unfairly by not letting him have even a copy of the painting, but Seokjin hadn’t done anything to deserve the destruction of this shrine to his mother. 

Would Taehyung tell Seokjin? Why hadn’t Taehyung gone to Seokjin with this request since they were so close? Why hadn’t Seokjin helped him? She regretted now not having asked Taehyung before why Seokjin wasn’t in on this. Plausible deniability with the king? She liked having the full picture but it was too late to ask for more now. 

She wouldn’t destroy anything though, and anything she took could make its way back someday, either once Taehyung got a copy of his painting made or enough time passed that the one missing painting wouldn’t be suspicious. 

Carefully she lifted the painting with Taehyung’s mother down, and two others beside it from the wall in the bedroom and carried them to the closet to wrap in linens and tuck into the canvas bag after setting the lantern to the side. They were so much bigger up close and just barely fit into the bag, she wouldn’t be able to take as many as she had planned. She took several off the walls in the painting parlor and set them down so it would look like she’d been planning to take them too and been interrupted. 

Then she braced herself and pushed over the easels. The paints had long ago solidified but scattered across the floor with the brushes, one of the easels collapsed on itself while the others rested awkwardly, legs in the air. It looked silly. It wasn’t truly careless or destructive the way a thief would be as she cleaned out the place. 

She tried to do better in the bedroom. She pulled the blankets off the bed as if she’d been digging for jewels and pulled the drawers out of the nightstands. It wouldn’t make sense for someone to steal paintings but not the jewels, so she swiped several pairs of earrings, a necklace, a bracelet and a tiara, avoiding the reflection of herself in the mirror. Her insides twisted as she slid the things into her bag. She had no way of knowing if any of these were sentimental, if Seokjin would be gutted for them to go missing. He liked pets and flowers and books, he seemed sentimental enough to be attached to specific jewelry. 

Did she have to take everything of value? She paused and looked at the vanity and closet, stuffed with riches. A proper thief would take as much as they could carry, pearls and rubies streaming from their pockets and shoes and hat. A proper thief would certainly take the most valuable things, and jewelry was a better prize than paintings, more valuable, easier to fence. If she was truly trying to stage a burglary, she should do the same, drag away as much as she could, prioritize the small and easy to smuggle things. But she thought of Seokjin entering the room, looking around with horror at what had been done to his mother’s rooms, and felt like someone was physically holding her back.

The painting of the family, of Seokjin and the late prince Seok-ho as boys, caught her eye through the mirror’s reflection. She turned and looked, wondering if the family had been happy. It was a complicated question to answer. Happy? Or at least happier when they weren’t half of a whole? She didn’t know how much Seokjin came in here. Did he come in here and look at the painting and pretend? 

She tugged the locket out from where it nestled deep in her bodice. The intricate floral pattern embossed on the front was nearly worn smooth by years brushed under her thumb. She opened it and tried to remember the portraits that had once hidden in the hollows. She would never have considered herself a sentimental person. She wasn’t. If she needed to shed the locket –and on several occasions she nearly had– she would. But looking up at the painting of young Prince Seokjin, she knew she had to leave that particular painting, even though part of her wanted it. For why? It wasn’t like she could put it anywhere. She already wasn’t sure where Taehyung was going to keep the big painting of his mother. It was over half her height, he couldn’t stow it in the bunkhouse where the yard boys slept!

Taking too long, she scolded herself and promptly swiped everything from the vanity onto the floor. Not every thief would destroy the room as she went but she wanted it to look like someone careless or thoughtless or even possibly hateful of the royal family. These things would divert suspicion from both her and Taehyung. She was none of those things, a truth that clinched in her belly as she flinched when the late queen’s combs and cheek powder and lip stain hit the floor. The ornate flowers popped off a particularly beautiful comb that Dulce regretted not taking for her own personal stash, if she was someone who could be so selfish and collect stolen things. The queen was wearing it in one of the paintings. It was beautiful and now it was broken and shame made Dulce sweaty.

Had she done enough damage to move on? She slipped into the queen’s closet and found herself stunned once again. The volume of clothing and jewelry here was overwhelming, even beyond Nasimiyu’s closet in Marvono. By comparison, Nasimiyu was practically impoverished with how few gowns she had here, fewer than two dozen until her new ones were made. Dulce had three sets of clothing to her name, not including the shift she slept in.

She took a couple pieces of jewelry –two rings and a bracelet– and slid them into her pocket, then simply tugged clothing from the hangers, again to look like she had meant to take things, or pilfered through for secret valuables. Even though she was leaving many valuables just sitting right in the open. Hopefully no one would find these things too odd but even if they did, at the very least it wouldn’t point to her. 

Dulce surveyed her work. It didn’t seem like enough but she couldn’t bring herself to do more. There wasn’t anything personal for her in destroying this sanctuary, though she suspected Taehyung might have done significant damage. Or maybe not, since the Queen had been kind to him. But now these were the King’s rooms, not hers. 

Hoisting the canvas bag was significantly more cumbersome now. Dulce, on the small side, had to clumsily shuffle along with it in front of her, the straps digging into her wrists so it wouldn’t drag on the ground, the lantern wedged in at the top. Wrangling the secret door open and closed behind her was a feat, though a sense of relief came over her once it was closed and she was alone in the pitch black. There, it was done, she hadn’t done too much harm, and she was out.

Dulce was used to moving through the dark, but this dark was so total it made it hard to breathe. She should have lit the lamp before closing the door but her gut had said to hurry, that she was going to be late or caught. She dug the flint and steel from her pocket and made sure her back was to the paintings before she struck it. It took a few minutes of feeling around before she could send a spark in the right direction, and the whole time drawing steady, measured breaths to keep her mind from drifting away from her in this total void. She hadn’t known it was possible to drown in darkness. 

The wick lit and her shoulders released. 

As tempting as it was to leave the things right by the ivy door, she had to expect that the first thing the King would do was charge down the secret passageway to see if the thief had entered that way. Instead Taehyung had drawn her a map to get to a particular hidden spot in the caves where he would retrieve the paintings and from there supposedly take them to a secret and trustworthy painter who would make his copies. That was beyond Dulce’s job.

The map was difficult to follow in the dark with the lantern and the canvas bag and Taehyung’s unskilled linework. Several times she took wrong turns, felt it in her gut, and had to backtrack to make sure. The caves were a maze, and the first time she accidentally stepped into one of the massive caverns gave her a scare like nothing ever did before. It felt like a death sentence to be down here alone. Trapped. By and large helpless. Weighed down with stolen goods. The dark creeping close behind.

She paused to let her body acclimate to the rush of fear and gazed up at the fake starry sky for what comfort it could give. It was beautiful, like nothing she had ever seen, somehow so like and yet so alien to the actual night sky. Personally she thought Paloma’s broad open blanket of night was even more beautiful but maybe that was because it reminded her of freedom and eternity all the time she had slept beneath it and this here was oppression. To never be able to leave this, to always amble through the dark for generations, to not even know you were missing the sun…

Hell might look like this. Dulce followed none of the minor religions that had taken root in Yeonhalbi and yet she thought hell might look just like this.

At last she felt certain she’d found the spot. Instead of wondering how much time Taehyung had spent here to notice and even map this spot, she quickly unburdened herself of the paintings, after fishing the jewels out of the bottom of the bag and shoving them into her pockets. The tiara wouldn’t fit and she held it awkwardly in her hands, not sure what to do about it. 

Noise behind her made her dive for shelter behind the stones hiding the paintings, tiara clutched to her chest, preventing her from dragging out the blade instinct told her too. Likely just an animal, but still she waited, crouched, breath steady and quiet.

Footsteps padded closer, paused, then shuffled closer again, then another pause. She glimpsed a blue directional light bouncing off the wall against the yellow glow of her lantern and realized it was a person. Shit. She had hoped not to cross paths with any of the gamekeepers down here; she didn’t know how many there were or what habits they kept, but Taehyung said there were only a few and not to worry about it. 

Well she was worrying about it now as she listened to the crunch of slow, careful footsteps. Obviously footsteps now. Inspecting the light she had foolishly relied on. She’d been caught, shit! 

She fished the dagger out from her thigh, annoyed still that she’d lost the one Nasimiyu gave her, usually easier to grab from her boot. Then she crouched, waiting, ready to pounce if the person did indeed discover her.

The figure stopped. She could only make out the rounded shadow moving closer to her abandoned lantern. Nothing else was left out there, she was sure of it –but then why did the figure pause so long beside the lantern and crouch down? Damnit, she should have extinguished and hidden the lantern as soon as she had light to see by. These were the sort of mistakes that got you killed.

“It’s dangerous being in the caves alone,” the man said, a weak and aged voice that evaporated in the heavy atmosphere as soon as the words were spoken. “To get out from here, put your right hand on the wall and take every turn you meet, never take your hand off. May the gods have mercy on your soul.”

With that he ambled away, his blue light rocking with his steps. Dulce remained tucked away until she was sure he was gone and only then slid out from the cramped space. Gingerly she picked up the lantern and looked around for any sign of who it was or any evidence of what he might have been looking at. Was it just the lantern? There was nothing else she could see. He was gone, her lamp left where she’d set it.

May the gods have mercy on your soul. Was it a threat? A warning? Sympathy? Did he know who she was or what she’d done, or was this how he handled anyone who wandered into the caves? It had sounded like Master Boutros, the game master she had met in these caves on the hunt so many weeks ago, but she couldn’t say for sure. Maybe everyone sounded like that when you made them live in an underground cave. 

She took the tiara and tossed it as far into the cavern as she could. It disappeared quickly over the lip of the cliff she didn’t go anywhere near; she’d turned her back before that and let her right hand lead her out, just like he had said. She had no reason to believe it wasn’t a trap except her own gut at this point. She let some of the jewelry fall from her pockets on the way. Not to the ivy door though, to a different one she learned as she stepped through it, this one further down the mountain path than they had gone for the hunt. Just how turned around had she been in there?

Aware she had been gone a long time and that her thieving may already have been discovered, Dulce hurried back up the path to the palace, slowing when she neared the yard so she could make sure no one was in view before sliding through the gate. Her heavy pockets tugged with every step so she held them down and continued her steady gait through the yard, into the palace, through quiet halls until she reached Nasimiyu’s room. If anyone saw her at this point, she didn’t care; her scowl likely put them off. 

She only grabbed a parasol from Nasimiyu’s wardrobe so she’d have a reason to make her way to the Sunflower Festival and meet up with Nasimiyu, –or rather with Taehyung, who was supposed to make sure he was visible to all and easy to find. From Nasimiyu’s window she tossed several of the jewels into the bushes far below, then set off again. On the way she took a detour through the hallway that ran near Prince Seokjin’s room and let one of his mother’s rings fall from the window into his courtyard. A bracelet joined it from another window. It wouldn’t make any sense why a thief would drop the jewelry there, but obviously Seokjin wouldn’t have taken it. Confusing was ok. Better than making a mistake while trying too obviously to throw people off your scent.

There were only a few things still in her pockets now and for a moment she contemplated hiding them in Mirta’s bed. But no, Dulce wasn’t someone who sought petty revenge on her own account. Instead she took a walk through the Queen’s garden to reach the front of the palace, and along the way pressed a ring and a bracelet into the dirt beneath a sweet statue of a little dancing girl.

The empty pockets should have left her feeling light as she set off for the Sunflower Fest, but she still felt weighed down. She’d tried to not take anything too sentimental looking but what did she know? No way was that tiara ever getting found. Once the things in Seokjin’s courtyard were found they’d probably scour the palace and find some of it but maybe not the things in the cave, which Master Boutros would probably find and thrift. Who would think to look under the statue in the garden?  

Shit, what was wrong with her though? As if the royal family actually needed so many jewels, or specific jewels. How fortunate was it to own things at all? She’d barely made a dent in the queen’s rooms. There was so much there, if she hadn’t made a mess they might not have even noticed anything but the paintings were gone. If all of this was in service of Taehyung getting the painting of his mother, then so be it. The King and Prince could cry into their remaining riches.

The strong scent of wilting sunflowers had snuck up on her, the noise of the festive town kept back by her thoughts until she reached the main road and its bright yellow glow. She paused to stare up at an arch made completely of flowers reaching far over her head. Probably it had been beautiful hours ago but now the leaves were curling, the petals starting to tumble from the heavy, sagging stalks. 

People crowded the main roads so densely it was difficult to move through, their feet trampling any flower that broke free from where they’d been tied to every surface, strung up rootless for the spectacle. So many of them it almost hurt to look at, second only in awe to actually walking through a field of living, growing sunflowers. Actually, pushing her way through people was not that different than stalks, trying not to trip on the children who darted past like energetic rabbits, avoiding the bumps and tugs of folks nudging past on their way to food or music or spectacles. A man juggled flaming torches, one of which landed too far and crushed a statue of flowers, impossible to tell what it had been, while the crowd shouted and laughed. Musicians tried to get a group to dance but there wasn’t space. A baby in her mother’s arms reached out a hand and poked delicately at the center of a flower, enraptured until a man jumped around it and shouted to scare the child, who promptly burst into tears while her mother scolded the man. 

But Dulce couldn’t appreciate these little moments because it was too busy, too crowded, and she had somewhere to be. She wound her way through the maze of townsfolk, following the main roads as she suspected Nasimiyu would. She kept her eyes peeled for Nasimiyu’s tall dark head, or the uniformed guards, or a wave of people who might be circling around the King. Would Naimiyu and Prince Seokjin stay near his father or wander off on their own? Taehyung had promised to be near Nasimiyu and Nasimiyu would be…

Dulce had no idea. She’d never been to this sort of thing with Nasimiyu. She didn’t know what Nasimiyu would be drawn to. Nothing, was her guess.

So where would the Prince go? Food. But food was everywhere. Maybe music, which he seemed to like even though he claimed not to like dancing. But music was everywhere too. It seemed to usher forth from the flowers themselves, there was so much of it. Everything was so loud and bright and everyone was so happy and Dulce wondered if she had always been different or if life had made her different, to feel so incapable of joining this outpouring of community.

She moved away from the nearest knot of musicians. She wished she could find that cafe the Prince had shown her and hide in there but they were in the wrong part of town. Her stomach rumbled at the scent of delicious food but there wasn’t time. She needed to tell Taehyung the job was done so she could wash her hands of this and forget she’d been involved at all. Maybe she’d bum some coins off him and get something to eat.

A curtain of sunflowers swung across the walkway and somehow not been torn down yet. She walked through to see the fountain too overflowed with them, and children crowded around poking at them –except for a young woman who sat on the edge, and a man knelt before her, asking a question that made her shriek and throw her arms around him, and someone nearby grabbed a flower and ripped the petals off and made them rain down on the couples’ heads as they kissed.

Dulce couldn’t decide if the Festival was tragic or beautiful. Part of her envied the folks who could afford to bring whatever they wanted in the world right to their doorstep, and part of her despised the ruin of something when the flowers could have been left where they were instead of brought here to die, and part of her didn’t care at all. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered –flowers or jewels or tiaras or nice dresses. All these people who would enjoy the fair today and then back to lives of lonely drudgery tomorrow. The food they would eat and shit out, the beer they’d vomit up, whatever cheap goods they were scammed into buying. At best the children would remember the day as magical and then someday find themselves chasing an impossible joy before confronting the reality that it was only the glow of childhood that had made reality seem so lovely.

She didn’t regret that this was not something she could connect with, that’s just how it was. 

On a whim she reached for the chain of her locket. The locket was the stupidest, most sentimental thing about her. She’d nearly tossed it many times to prove a point, only to keep it after all. It was a weakness, finding comfort in rubbing her thumb over the embossed face, she knew that. She would never risk her life over a piece of jewelry, and yet she still had it–

Had. 

It was gone.

“Nothing matters,” she quickly, defensively reminded herself. A woman’s scream interrupted her, timed in such a way she thought it was in her head. Still, she instinctively spun as people suddenly bolted, and in the cleared space not two yards away, she watched a man leave his knife in Seokjin’s chest.

It hadn’t occurred to Seokjin until just now what a terrible meeting place the fountain was. It was right there, right in the middle of everything, and everyone was watching him, every step he took. He’d noticed it the second they walked through the sunflower arch, him with his bride-to-be on his arm. He knew the people would be curious about their future queen, but he hadn’t expected them to stare at him so much. He was just the same ol’! Did they think he was undergoing a transformation now that he had a fiance and was only weeks away from being a husband?

August now. November 1st they would marry and the woman loosely holding his arm would become his wife for the rest of his life.

Seokjin turned his attention to thinking about what food he might like to eat today. The smells flooded his senses, leading him by the nose along the street. He wanted to see all his options and choose carefully; he also wanted to buy everything that appealed to him and eat until he had to be rolled home, like he hadn’t since he was a child. 

It would not endear him to Nasimiyu, that was for sure. He didn’t think she’d eaten a single thing since they arrived, certainly none of the things he had offered. It almost left him glad that Namjoon was hungry and eager to trawl the food vendors, just so he wouldn’t do it alone. Not that he minded being alone, but sometimes it was fun to do something not alone, even if just to discuss whether that peppered fruit had been spicy or if the chicken skewers were too chewy or if the takoyaki had too strong a flavor. Not that he really cared whether Namjoon enjoyed the food or not but it was something. Dulce would have understood and appreciated the food, he was sure of it. He didn’t think she would agree with him on everything but it would have been fun to learn. He wished he knew her well enough to predict.

Was he just going to think things like that now and pretend like it was normal? Maybe. He didn’t feel in the mood to be scolded right now.

“Do you want to wander that way?” Nasimiyu asked. She didn’t want to sit still for any of the shows or eat any of the food and yet she seemed to be genuinely enjoying herself and he couldn’t figure out why. He couldn’t decide whether to take it at face value or accept it was faked and play along.

But Seokjin couldn’t wander that way because he needed to meet with “K.” She hadn’t given him a time, only told him to meet her by the clock tower, which loomed down over him now from the nearest corner of the square. He also didn’t know what “K” looked like, only that she was someone who had known his brother closely –close enough to know that Seok-ho had broken a vase when they were children for which Seokjin had been blamed. Not just any vase, but one their father’s mother had made with her own hands. The men in their family were nothing if not sentimental. Seok-ho had let him take the blame, and though he didn’t make a habit of that sort of thing it had always lingered with Seokjin, that early lesson that his blessed, beloved brother could be selfish too.  

He glanced around, expecting someone to approach, but probably K realized the difficulty as well, that it would be impossible to get him alone for any sort of private conversation. 

Nasimiyu still eyed him expectantly and he felt he had no choice to nod and follow. Lidmila and Mindeulle wound around them and though he reached for Nasimiyu’s hand, she didn’t seem to notice and strode ahead, confident he would follow. It was nice to see her forming such good friendships with the other women, even if it felt strange to see her so close with Mindeulle. He wouldn’t have expected that. But hey, great! Wonderful. Probably Nasimiyu would want Mindeulle to stay and Namjoon would use it as an excuse to stay and Seokjin would never be rid of him. 

He watched her duck under a curtain of sunflowers to follow Nasimiyu and was struck by the realization that any special fondness he’d ever held for Mindeulle had settled so peacefully into brotherly affection that it was hard to recall if any actually had existed or if his father had only put that thought there. He wouldn’t have even called it a crush, but whatever it was, it was snuffed out entirely; at most maybe it had been a distant affection of childhood. Had Nasimiyu entering his life really taken over his senses so profoundly?

Music suddenly struck up behind him, making him startle and spin. Marks and Jungkook were close on either side and remained stoic but Jimin grinned and Seokjin pretended not to know why. There was something familiar about the band though, and it took him a moment and a few steps forward to recognize them. It was the band that had played for the wedding he and Dulce wandered through that day in the city, when he’d almost asked her to dance, he was sure of it. It amused him to think about what she would have done if he had. Her agreement at the ball had surprised him, so maybe she would have surprised him that day too, but he thought it more likely she would have stared at him with those wide dark eyes –the same color as the center of a sunflower. Or maybe it was more like her hair, with that hint of reddish glow. 

No wonder it felt like she was everywhere today despite being nowhere. If she’d come to the festival at all, he sure hadn’t seen her. Nasimiyu had brought other attendants. He’d seen Yoongi drinking a beer earlier and Taehyung was lurking nearby, pretending not to be visible, but since Dulce wasn’t with either of them, he thought that meant she hadn’t come. Or she was avoiding him. Probably it was for the best either way.

“Why are you grinning like that?” Jimin asked, sidling up to him. “Is the scent of the flowers going to your head?” He reached up to fix Seokjin’s collar and the braided trim looping from his shoulders. Wouldn’t it be a lot more fun here if he hadn’t needed to dress up? But Hoseok and Jimin insisted, and Nasimiyu would have been disappointed if he’d stepped out with her for the first time in a vest with no jacket. Still, he was just waiting for someone to spill something on his white trousers.

“Hmm yes, it’s that,” Seokjin joked, wafting the air towards his nose only to playfully cough. “Yes, still smells like Priva under there.”

“Did you mean to let the Princess leave you behind?”

“Ah, no… oops,” Seokjin admitted.

Jimin circled him, as if checking that nothing else was amiss with his outfit or maybe enjoying the clear ring of space the bodyguards maintained for him.

“You seem distracted today. What’s got into your head?” Jimin pressed.

“What do you mean? It’s the Sunflower Festival! Which means there’s absolutely nothing going on up there,” Seokjin assured him. He couldn’t understand why Jimin eyed him so suspiciously, even leaned close to peer into his face.

“You didn’t sit up all night reading, did you?” Jimin guessed.

Seokjin laughed –guiltily, truth be told– and cried, “What do you scold me, is that your place? Where’s Hoseok or Master Jung, that’s their job, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know where he is so I’m taking it over today. Where do you want to go now? Chin up, shoulders back, look your best.”

“Don’t speak so familiarly to me in public,” Seokjin teased. “People will think I’m a lenient prince. Where’s my fiance? Take me to her now!”

To Seokjin’s confusion, Jimin paused for a moment and looked at him in a way that felt pointed, or curious, or suspicious. Something that wasn’t the normal way Jimin would look at him and it made Seokjin self conscious. He wiped at his face in case there was something there but felt nothing.

“Is that what you’re worried about? I don’t know, you don’t tell me what you’re thinking these days, so how can I serve you? All right, I will take you to your princess,” Jimin said, suddenly animated again. He turned towards the curtain through which Nasimiyu had passed now some time ago and Seokjin took a step after him.

“Excuse me, do you want your fortune read?”

The voice reached him across the space and general noise of the festival, cut right through as if his ear marked it familiar, though it wasn’t. Seokjin turned to see the woman who had approached to address him, though no closer than Marks would allow. 

“Your fortune read, Your Royal Highness?” The woman looked vaguely familiar to him, but he couldn’t quite recall where he’d seen her before. Her long face was pretty, though her dress was simple, her dark blond hair pulled back in a low ponytail. She reached up to touch her face and then tugged at the neckline of her shirt, where a heavy ring hung on a string, her only adornment. A moment longer than he would have admitted it, he realized the ring was a signet ring –his brothers, most likely, and that this woman might be, must be “K.” 

“You’re a fortune teller?” he asked, wondering if that was true. He worried now he might be falling prey to a scam, or maybe this woman believed in whatever warning she read from the cards he didn’t believe in– but how had she got his brother’s ring?

“I have my tent only here,” she said and motioned behind her. It was almost a tent. Barely one. A couple heavy dark curtains were tied up, creating a small private space right beside a bustling side street.

Seokjin could feel the distrust rolling off Marks as the bodyguard nudged her back and tried to move Seokjin along, but he simply stepped around the bodyguard and agreed, “Yes, let’s see what my palm has to say.” 

“Wha–” Jimin began but Seokjin ignored him and reached for the tent. He could see Marks thought this was absurd but he had no right to tell Seokjin no, and only motioned for the woman to wait as he stepped into the tent first, clearly with intention to stay.

“I’ll get my fortune told alone,” Seokjin announced. “You can all wait outside.”

“But Your Highness–”

“But Ser–”

“Do you think she’s going to slip poison into my mouth from across the table?” Seokjin demanded, gesturing to her as she waited at the opening. 

“It’s not safe for you to be out of sight and alone,” Marks insisted.

Seokjin knew he was wasting time and decided, “Fine, Jungkook can come in with me. I guess I’ll be less embarrassed for him to hear if I’ve got a rotten fortune.” Anyone could have seen Jimin was hurt by this exclusion, so Seokjin pointed out, “It’s too small and Jungkook’s the bodyguard. I’ll tell you anything juicy over snacks tonight.” He didn’t wait for an answer but slid through the opening of the sheets after Marks had stepped out and Jungkook in. The woman came in last and tugged the curtain closed, then sat on one of two stools in the cramped space. There was a small table, but no cards or anything, only a single candle that put off an outrageous amount of heat as it burned low.

By it Seokjin saw her glancing warily at Jungkook, so he started in a quiet voice, “Are you K? You may speak freely in front of him, he’s both a bodyguard and a trusted friend.”

“I… if you say so…”

Jungkook’s brow scrunched in confusion and he opened his mouth to ask something but Seokjin tapped his lips with his finger and Jungkook stayed his tongue.

“We won’t have much time without seeming suspicious,” Seokjin told her, sitting on the stool and leaning close. He was already beginning to sweat in the trapped heat. The drapes did an eerily good job of muting both light and sound from outside but for all he knew Marks and Jimin were listening close and while he trusted at least Jimin, it was clear the woman was nervous.

Suddenly it struck him where he’d seen her before and he asked, “How are your children?”

“Oh. You do remember me?”

“Yes, it was you with your sons. Is he all right, the one who was hurt?”

“Yes, he’s all right. They’re with my mother right now.”

“So you can work? You’re a… fortune teller?”

“I’m not actually. Is this really so convincing? It’s the only way I could think to get time to speak with you.”

Impressed, Seokjin studied her concerned expression and asked, “What is it you want to talk to me about? Is that why you came to court that day? And why do you have my brother’s ring? Who were you to my brother?”

“His wife,” she breathed out, the word so airy and impossible that Seokjin thought he must have misheard.

“Pardon?”

“I am the wife of Seok-ho,” she said again, a little clearer. 

“Um…”

“And those children you saw are his,” she added. 

“That’s not possible,” Seokjin said as he racked his mind to see if it could be.

“I wish I had time to tell you everything, to tell you our entire love story,” she said. “It distressed him not to tell you but of course, I was secret. It wasn’t you he didn’t trust but everyone else.”

“How could he have a secret wife and children?” Seokjin argued. “It’s not possible.”

“We met here in the city. He used to visit the tavern I worked in–”

“My brother didn’t visit taverns.”

“He did,” she insisted. “In secret. I didn’t know who he was, he was always dressed as a commoner –handsome though. So very handsome.” Seokjin couldn’t say anything. It was impossible. It didn’t sound like his brother at all. “We fell in love. He bought us a house outside the city we met at sometimes, other times we stole time together in secret here. We married and I had our children and then… then he went on a military campaign he never returned from.”

Seokjin didn’t hide the confusion from his face. How else should he look when meeting a woman who insisted that his brother the royal prince had led a secret double life?!

She tugged the string over her head and handed him the ring.

“He gave me this and told me that if anything ever happened to him, I could contact you if I felt in trouble. He was certain you would understand and help his wife and children.”

“Yes of course I would but…” Seokjin looked at her, looked for any hint in her face she was crazy or lying. But she looked sincere, and the ring was real, and her story, as outlandish as it was… well, there was a flicker of belief among the doubt. He had always suspected his brother had a secret affair but he’d been thinking penpal, not commoner wife in the country. “But what did he think was going to happen? What did you think? He was going to have to marry as king.” 

“I don’t know, to be honest. It’s not that I liked the secret life but a barmaid can’t become a queen and he was afraid for my safety if I was known. Your father never would have let him marry me. Sometimes he thought he would run away with me but he didn’t want to leave the crown to you.”

“Astonishing faith in me.”

“I meant– he said because you didn’t want it, and he wanted to protect you from the expectations and let you be free,” she corrected. “I didn’t explain it well. I don’t come from money or nobility or education or anything like that. But I loved your brother with everything I had, and he loved me back. I knew it every day, whether we were together or not. I would have lived my entire life his secret if I had to. We both knew something might have to change as the boys got older. My older one looks so much like him but he died before anyone could notice.”

Did he? Seokjin couldn’t remember at all, he hadn’t been paying attention except to the injured one. He certainly hadn’t been looking for traces of his brother. 

“Why did you come to court if you wanted to stay hidden?”

“Your father knows about me,” she said. “And the boys. I don’t know how, but Seok-ho was certain and after that day in court, I’m positive as well. I think he even recognized me before I spoke. His whole face changed when he saw me and then my elder son. It wasn’t until my younger wandered up to the throne that he… well.”

“He’s sentimental about the chair that belonged to my mother.”

“I understand but you see, the reason I risked it, I had sent him a letter and I wasn’t sure he received it, or if he dismissed it. I think my life and that of my children is in danger.”

Seokjin didn’t dance around the truth and admitted, “If anyone knows about you, that’s probably true.” He paused, then added, “Technically your sons are in line ahead of me for the throne.”

“I don’t want that for them. That’s not why I sent you or your father notes,” she insisted. “The complete opposite. I just want to go far away and raise them in safety.”

“Why don’t you?”

“Money,” she said. “That’s the simple truth. Seok-ho meant to leave us with everything we would ever need, but the account he set up for me was suddenly empty one day and the bank wouldn’t tell me why. I wanted to know if your father emptied it. I can only think of a few people who would have the authority.”

“Who besides my father? We can’t just demand a bank account be turned over to us,” Seokjin argued. “And besides I don’t know why my father would do that.”

“I sent him a letter… I told you that. I’m sorry, I’m so nervous,” she admitted and only now did he realize her hands were trembling on the table. He reached forward and covered one with his own. Did he believe her or not? He didn’t want to. He wanted to remain suspicious. And yet he found himself believing her more with each word she spoke. If he accepted that he hadn’t known his brother very well at all –which was honestly, very true– then maybe this all sounded exactly like something his brother could and would pull off. It was why he would have made a good king. He knew what he wanted and made it happen. He couldn’t be swayed or coerced. He could do the impossible.

“I understand but you’re the safest you’ve ever been right now,” he found himself reassuring her. “Nothing gets past Jungkook.” The space was so cramped, it was more true than ever; Jungkook was practically resting on his back, hanging on to every word is disbelief, no doubt.

“Good. That’s good, that’s very good because I think you’re in danger too– sorry, I should say first, I don’t think Seok-ho’s death was an accident.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t, he was the king’s son in a war.”

“No, I mean– I mean I think he wasn’t killed in the battle, I think he was killed because of what he saw,” she said. 

Seokjin was so heated by this point he thought he might faint but kept his hand on hers and asked, “What did he see?”

“I don’t know except that it had something to do with your uncle. He sent me a letter within a letter and asked me to make sure it was delivered to your father. The letter to me only said not to read it and that your uncle needed to be held accountable, that he had seen things he wasn’t meant to see, and that if anything happened to him, it would be even more important the letter reach your father.”

What was in the letter?! The need to know was going to drive Seokjin crazy but unlike Dulce, this woman seemed to not read other people’s letters. 

“You really don’t know what was in the letter?”

“I wish. I wish I did. I should have read it… I did what he asked and brought it to the palace and put it right into the hands of… I don’t know his name but he’s always by the king. Dark hair, big nose, always dressed very nicely–” 

“Could be anyone,” Seokjin muttered.

“Maybe Master Jung,” Jungkook murmured and Seokjin thought that could be true. 

“If so it would have reached my father, that’s as close as you could have got.”

“I should have insisted on handing it to your father myself but… but I was so afraid of him, and I didn’t know how to get to him anyway, and I was very tired with child… so many excuses now!”

“You did the best you could. You did what my brother asked,” Seokjin tried to comfort her. She pulled her hands away to brush her hair back, though it was all still in place. 

“I waited for another letter but none ever came. I had our second son. Hoya never saw him. I learned he’d died alongside everyone else in the city when it was announced.” She covered her face and drew a deep breath, shoulders shuddering.

“Everything all right in here?” Jimin asked, head suddenly poking through the flap.

“Ah, my fate is so tragic, it’s moving her to tears!” Seokjin called back. “Leave us be, it’s a rather good story.”

Jimin sighed and let the flap closed, but Seokjin heard him mutter to Marks, “It’s too hot in there, he’s going to faint and you’ll have to carry him home.”

“I’m sorry,” Seokjin said. “I… I wish I had something better to say.”

“Your uncle did something and Seokho wanted your father to know and he died for it. But what can I do about it? If I’m found out, he’ll kill me and our children too.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook thoughtlessly said and Seokjin tried to subtly elbow him. He needed to be less wrapped up in this tale and more alert to any danger.

She didn’t seem to have heard him anyway and continued, “Maybe your father wants us gone too, I don’t know. These are his grandchildren but– is it true, what you said? That they could have a claim on the throne?”

“Yes.”

“We don’t want that! But it makes it more dangerous for them, doesn’t it? If someone thinks that’s what we want?”

From me, Seokjin almost pointed out. He was the one whose claim was threatened by their existence and she had come right to him. And yet he would never have risked even a hair on one of their heads over the throne. His brother must have known that, too. Seokjin felt embarrassed with pride that his brother would put so much confidence in him. If only Seok-ho had ever seemed to think so highly of him while he lived, their relationship could have been so different…

“It does and you can’t help that,” Seokjin assured her. “I can give you all the money you need to disappear. That’s easy. I can give you enough for your journey and send notes ahead to wait for you and I won’t tell anyone in the world where you are –only I will know. If you need more help you can send me a letter.”

“That’s… thank you. It feels wrong to ask…”

“It’s not wrong,” Seokjin said. “We’re family. As for what my brother saw and my uncle… my father…” He sighed and gave a sharp shake of his head. “I don’t know what to do about that.”

“Do you believe me?”

“That my uncle is doing something nefarious and killed my brother to cover it up? I don’t doubt it at all. I wish I knew more. The best I can do is ask my father but I’ll have to figure out how to do it without making him suspicious I’ve met you… I’ll figure it out,” he assured her, sounding more confident than he felt.

If his brother had been murdered by his uncle, there was justice to demand. But Seokjin had never been very demanding, and didn’t know how to start now. How was he supposed to investigate, or convince his father there was anything to investigate? Did his father really know about Seok-ho’s secret wife? If so, was he protecting her or ignoring or, or did he not know after all? Sentimental about his grandchildren or ignorant? He’d adored Seok-ho, surely he wouldn’t let his murder go if he had suspicions. His father and uncle disagreed politically all the time, but his father didn’t replace him which said a lot. He didn’t think his father would be involved in the same business but… but what did he know? Nothing. Seokjin Kim knew nothing about anything. 

He handed the ring back to her and said, “Go to Paloma. Go to the biggest town in Paloma. Here, I’ll give you all the money I have –Jungkook, give me all your money.”

“What? Hyung,” Jungkook complained, forgetting himself and being familiar. 

“Oh, no, it’s–” the woman tried, but Seokjin insisted, “Money is one thing neither of us is short on. Take this. If you tell me where you’re staying, I’ll send Jungkook with more and then you should set out right away, as soon as you can hire transport.”

“Paloma?”

“The biggest town,” Seokjin said again, because he did not actually know which one that was.

“And you’ll find out what happened to Seok-ho?” she asked, naked hope in her eyes. “It feels wrong for his death to be swept away like that. He wanted to fix something and… and I don’t even know if my letter got to your father.” 

“I’m sure it did and he just didn’t know what to do about it or whether it was really my brother, but I’ll lend my doubts to Seok-ho’s and find out the truth,” Seokjin assured her. Realizing he hadn’t asked, he did so now, “What’s your name?”

“Kanna,” the woman answered.

“And my nephews?” The words sounded fake. He had nephews? He felt hungry for family in that moment, for more than just his depressed, eccentric father and cruel uncle and Taehyung who seemed to taunt death constantly so that Seokjin was afraid to love him too much.

“Masao and Yori.”

He repeated the names and wished there was a way to meet them. There wasn’t that he could see, not that wouldn’t endanger them and their mother. Seok-ho had loved this woman. His dead brother had trusted Seokjin to take care of them after he was gone, and that touched Seokjin deeply.

“Why did you wait so long to contact me?” Seokjin asked.

“I… I didn’t think you’d believe me. I didn’t want to risk our safety but it’s getting hard without the money, and I can’t sleep at night worrying that I failed Hoya. It’s just been weighing on my chest that he was murdered and I didn’t do anything.”

“There’s nothing else you can do,” Seokjin insisted. “Will you take on my uncle all by yourself? You’ve told me and now I’ll take care of it.”

“Maybe I’ve put you in danger by telling you, but maybe you’re already in danger. Your brother worried so much about you. He spoke about you all the time.”

“Flattering things, I’m sure,” Seokjin snorted.

“He said you were the most admirable and infuriating person he’d ever met,” she told him. “He said you were too good to be king, that only someone as selfish as him could handle it but that… that because he was selfish, he couldn’t give me up either… He spoke so unkindly of himself like that sometimes. He was so haunted by letting you take the blame for breaking that blue vase!” she laughed.

Seokjin found himself laughing too, “He told you about that.”

“He said if I told you about it, you would know I was telling you the truth because I’m the only one he ever admitted to that he broke the vase.”

Seokjin shook his head and sighed and blinked back the tears as he muttered, “Damn him.” His brother had loved him so much after all? Seokjin had known him so little after all. And now he was dead and they would never get to share their love stories or let their children run wild together at the Sunflower Fest or watch their wives… do whatever it was sisters-in-law did together, he didn’t actually know.

“Your Majesty,” Marks called from the flap and Seokjin understood he had lingered too long now. 

He took Kanna’s hand to squeeze as they both stood and insisted, “I’ll send you the money later tonight and the bank notes will be waiting in Paloma. Promise me you’ll go quickly.”

“I will. I feel much better having told you, having met you. I’m sorry we couldn’t know each other more.”

There was nothing to do but agree with that, and then let Jungkook lead him out of the tent where Marks stood alert. Jimin had grown bored and wandered over to join Taehyung and flirt with some pretty girls, but they both came over as soon as Seokjin was clear of the tent. He felt like he’d sweat out a tenth of his body weight.

“You look…” Jimin trailed off and looked around for something to fan him with.

“You were getting your fortune read?” Taehyung asked. “I want mine read.”

“Not here you don’t. It didn’t exactly seem… legitimate,” Seokjin said quickly, as if he didn’t want Kanna to hear. “Good for a laugh but I’m not sure she actually knows what she’s talking about. I’m supposed to get stomped by a horse before the next full moon, so mind you keep those beasts away from me. Ah, there’s Nasimiyu,” he said as she strode back through the sunflower curtain with a determined look on her face, clearly looking for him.

“And Namjoon,” Jimin added as he made a beeline for them at the same time.

“Well I know which of those two I’d rather talk to,” Seokjin laughed. “Taehyung, go.” He used the moment of everyone shifting around to lean close to Jungkook and whisper, “Stay here for a moment and make sure no one bothers her.”

“You got it,” Jungkook said and took a step back as Nasimiyu reached him.

“Where were you? I thought you were right behind us,” she accused.

“I’m sorry, I got distracted. I’ll follow you anywhere now,” he promised. He did not point out she had left him behind some time ago. Had she only noticed?

“There was a little dancing monkey,” Mindeulle gushed, all giggles with Lidmila. 

“Oh you saw the monkey?” Seokjin asked, before adding, “He’s here every year.”

“He was very polite,” Nasimiyu grinned. “Shook my hand.”

“You… like monkeys?”

“Yes, I like monkeys, if they’re clever or funny. Some of them are rather mischievous…”

Seokjin would never have expected this. It left him speechless, and unfortunately open to Namjoon successfully reaching them.

“Seokjin, your father is uh– I think he could use you right now,” Namjoon told him, leaning in but doing a poor job of lowering his voice.

Seokjin’s suspicion was immediate as he argued, “What could he possibly need me for? He doesn’t need me.”

“Just come on.” Namjoon beckoned. Seokjin knew exactly what his father would be up to today –running around like the most cheerful man on earth until he’d drunk enough for it to turn into longing for his dead wife, at which point he’d sink into despair and his guard would foist him away to the palace. No Seokjin needed. He felt no inclination to go now. He had a lot to think through. His was going to get indigestion.

But Nasimiyu followed Namjoon, which left Seokjin in the awkward position of having to follow as well. He did make one pitiful effort to distract her by pointing out a nearby shop with jewelry if she’d like him to buy her something nice instead of forging ahead to see whatever embarrassing thing his father might be doing. Not that Seokjin was embarrassed by his father in general, nor did he embarrass easily, but that was exactly it, that whatever his father was doing that Namjoon found so inappropriate Seokjin needed to rush to his side was in fact just the way his father was. 

“He was right here…” Namjoon said, stopping short and looking around. They’d stopped beside a tavern that had set up tables and several beer kegs on the sidewalk to let the celebration spill over. Namjoon craned his neck looking around while Seokjin counted his blessings and turned to Nasimiyu to suggest they wander like she’d said. He had a lot of trying of things bouncing around his mind and it would be better to just walk dumbly beside her for a while until he could reconcile the fact that he had a sister-in-law and two nephews who he would never see again. That his brother had hidden this from him, but also known he could count on Seokjin when needed, without explanation. 

“Oh there he is,” Nasimiyu said –or maybe it was actually Lidmila, but Seokjin wasn’t paying attention until Nasimiyu nudged his arm and Namjoon gestured for him to lead the way.

Confused, Seokjin pointed out, “He’s fine.” In fact his father the king seemed more than fine, one arm thrown out while he laughed around a deep mug of beer.

“He was on the verge of something just a minute ago,” Namjoon insisted. 

“On the verge of what?” Nasimiyu pressed and Seokjin found himself fond with gratefulness that she was taking his side. Not that there were sides between him and Namjoon in this but kind of there were.

“He was waving his sword around and beer in the other, shouting about love and death,” Namjoon said. Seokjin was not sure he believed him. His father’s sword was safely tucked away in its scabbard, not even a hand on the pommel, and he seemed perfectly in control of his emotions.

Until he saw Seokjin and let out a shockingly cheerful shout, “Ah, my boy!” Maybe that was a little suspicious, for his father to be so openly cheered by the sight of him. “Let me tell you, my son could never hold his alcohol, but this boy can!” the king added to the folks nearest him around the kegs. Seokjin suppressed a sigh. Was he proud or backhanded? He shouldn’t be calling Seokjin this boy to the people he would rule someday.

“Let’s escort him home?” Nasimiyu suggested. “We can come back.”

Seokjin gave her a look. As if he could escort his father anywhere. What an absurd idea. King Donggun would go where he wanted, when he wanted.

“Seokjin, Namjoon, come drink with me,” he shouted. “Nasimiyu, will you drink? I will gather the ducklings just like your mother would have wanted. Mindeulle, who are you here with, my son and other ladies? Time you met someone…”

Mindeulle inhaled sharply enough that Seokjin did step forward, interrupting, “Father, what, you want a drink with me? I’ll drink you under the table, old man. Your men there will have to carry you home.”

“You brat, I’ve been drinking beer since before you were a tickle in my balls.” 

“You should have stopped before you tickled, old man, I’ll unseat you,” Seokjin countered, and tried first to take the beer out of his father’s hand before simply accepting the one someone else handed him. He was trying to end this, not join the drink. 

“What other ducklings have we got around here? Everyone’s mothers are dead, isn’t that a joke of the heavens? Why is that? It’s not right. Our worlds revolve around them even after death, but they would forget us. Little Lidmila, I see you hiding there, your mother is still alive,” he called. “And can drink with the best of them!”

Lidmila looked like she wanted to slip beneath a table and evaporate. She practically dove behind Nasimiyu.

“Stableboy, I see you. Have a drink on me!” the king called and Seokjin didn’t know if it was paternal, or taunting, or if he was so drunk he’d forgotten about his own progeny.

“Why do you want to drink with the children?” Seokjin asked. “Where are your own friends, father?”

“Damn them to hell, I don’t know. Sleeping late I should think, or hiding from me. What’s wrong with them on a day like this, eh? It’s beautiful, beautiful, your mother will love it,” he said. 

Will.

“Yes, the flowers are beautiful,” Seokjin said and his father’s head lolled to the side and he grinned and sighed.

“They are. They are beautiful today. They’ll be gone by tomorrow. Their beauty never lasts.” He trailed off as he said it and for a moment Seokjin feared he was slipping into one of his stupors, which would make him nearly impossible to move home. Then he realized his father had forgotten himself and stared at Taehyung. Likely it wasn’t only the queen his father mourned today, but Seokjin wasn’t worried his father would let something like that slip. After all these years, King Donggun hadn’t drunkenly tattled on his own affair.

“They’d go running around together here, those girls,” King Donggun sighed. “Both of ‘em pretending to be commoners for the day. Sukdheep thought it was horrifying but she’d humor her, humor her anything. Are you as full of humor as your mother, Little Lidmila?”

“...Yes, sir?” Lidmila guessed, clearly not sure what to say.

“Where’s your mother today?” the king asked. “I was never as close to her… but I look around and everyone is gone but the two of us. Just me and the ducklings left. I’m the last one who should be left with all the baby birds. Two clumsy hands, I’ve got!” He waved the mug of beer and some sloshed over his hand and splashed onto Seokjin’s shoes and across the trousers of one of the king’s guards, who stepped back in surprise. “What’s wrong, afraid of a little beer, you coward?” King Donggun laughed and flung the rest of the beer directly onto the guard.

“Father, that’s rude even for you,” Seokjin scolded, trying not to sound shocked in case it just egged him on further. The guard stepped back, stoic but whole body stiff with obvious anger. Seokjin didn’t even know the man’s name, he must be on the newer side and maybe hadn’t understand what he was signing up for.

“Who do you think you are?” Donggun demanded, then suddenly softened as he looked at Seokjin and admitted, “You look so much like her, it makes me love and hate you.”

“Is that so?” Seokjin said. He’d meant to say something funny but his mind had betrayed him. He didn’t want to be near his father anymore, not today. His father was just drunk and vacillating between bitter and nostalgic. Seokjin and Nasimiyu didn’t need to be here to witness it. His father had taken care of himself for this long and didn’t need an loved-but-hated son tidying him up. Namjoon knew that by now, Seokjin didn’t see why he’d been fetched, unless Namjoon felt like Seokjin should be up for some emotional torment –not that this was much of anything. It barely registered. Hadn’t his father just said he loved him? That was nice.

“Her eyes were always laughing too but she was kinder about it,” Donggun said just as Seokjin began to turn, to lead Nasimiyu off to something more fun than this. The complaint made Seokjin hesitate –his father could be painfully, cleverly cruel when drunk, but his voice sounded almost hurt. 

“Wha? I’m unkind? What can–” you possibly mean by that Seokjin had begun to say, turning back after all to demand his answer, just as a man slid into the space left by the guard who’d turned to dab the beer off his suit. Just as this man raised the knife. 

It wasn’t that he thought about whether to act or not. Honestly, it was stupid of him, wasn’t it? How embarrassing, that despite nearly twenty-five years of training, Seokjin’s instinct was not to disarm or even attack the man. He did in fact grab the man’s wrist as he dove between his father and the assailant, but failed to shove the weapon safely away. Instead he noticed how surprised the man looked as the blade sank into Seokjin’s chest, sliding in his left side with little resistance until the blade scraped against bone. Seokjin didn’t know a blade could skewer a body that gently. He had never dreamed how obvious the scrape of blade against his bone would be.

Things happened very quickly but they felt slow to Seokjin. Someone screamed. Multiple people screamed. Someone knocked the assailant away and Seokjin looked down at the knife protruding from his body when there wasn’t supposed to be something sticking out of him like that. Someone grabbed his shoulders and spun him around and his father shouted at him,

“Are you stupid?!”

“I think so,” Seokjin mumbled as more people grabbed his arms, he wasn’t even sure who, but it felt like he was falling. Nasimiyu looked worried, that was nice. Where had Dulce come from? Had she always been here? He was falling –no, he was being eased back onto something. Someone reached for the blade, or their hand was close, and he shouted because everything in his body told him that something wasn’t supposed to be there and it burned but it would be worse if it wasn’t there anymore. He didn’t want anyone touching it. He didn’t want anyone touching him either but Jungkook’s face was over his and he could hear Jimin’s voice shouting for people to get back. At least he thought that’s what the urgency meant.

Seokjin shouted as it felt like he was thrown into the air but he was only lifted. The board was hard beneath him and didn’t let his body curl in around the pain the way he wanted to. Without meaning to he reached for the blade, maybe it needed to come out after all, but a hand grabbed his arm and pressed it down to his side.

“Don’t let him take it out.” He recognized Dulce’s voice, or maybe she’d said that before, everything was all out of order right now. It was Nasimiyu’s hand holding his arm down. Jimin held the other arm down. He didn’t like being held down like that and complained but no one seemed to care, or maybe he wasn’t quite saying words. It didn’t hurt the way he’d expected it to but it was impossible to breathe or move. Maybe that had more to do without everyone moving so quickly around him than the injury. It was just a small knife. Wasn’t it not a big deal? It went in so easily, it could come out so easily too.

“Hey, hey,” he called to any of them that would listen. It didn’t feel right to be lying on his back on a plank as Jungkook and Marks carried him. “Don’t you know I have an image to uphold? I’m not dead, let me walk!” Everyone was being way too serious and it scared him. Was it worse than he thought? 

“Stay still,” Jimin scolded.

“At least carry me on your shoulders like a king, let me sit up.”

“Just be quiet right now, hyung,” Jungkook said. “You’ll be ok. You’ll be fine. Just let us get you all to safety. You won’t die.”

“Yah, why don’t you sound sure?” Seokjin laughed, then winced. He didn’t want the people around him to panic but damn. Something was wrong. It was suddenly so cold, and wasn’t that someone thought right before they died? What if the blade had gone right into his heart and he was bleeding out…

“Ok fine run faster, I’m tired from doing heroics,” he said, wincing as the board jostled.

“What?” Nasimiyu asked, then, “What did he say? He’s so quiet…” He appreciated that she sounded worried. She did, didn’t she? That was good, for his future wife to be worried about him when he got stabbed in the chest. But where was she? She wasn’t holding his arm anymore, Taehyung was, and Nasimiyu was gone, and Dulce was staring down into his face –no, it was sunflowers overhead as the board was loaded into the back of a wagon. So many people were shouting still and Seokjin only just realized it because it hadn’t stopped so he’d tuned it out. 

He cried out as the wagon jolted into action, and beside him Jimin rubbed his hair and soothed, “It’ll be fine. It’ll be fine. You can’t die yet so you won’t, everything will be fine.”

“I’m not going to die,” Seokjin agreed. “This doesn’t seem like a good day for dying. I just need to lay down for a while.”

“You’re already laying down. Seokjin? Seokjin?”

Nasimiyu couldn’t bear to be next to Seokjin in the wagon –not that his guards wanted her there anyway. His manservant Jimin practically bodied her away as the wagon began to roll, but when King Donggun called for a horse, she echoed his demand, and so the two rode in the dust of the wagon with half their guards mounted around them, half running alongside to shout people away from the path. It was panic and chaos, between the people who didn’t know what was happening except it was something terrible, Lidmila and Mindeulle who both fluttered around like trapped moths as she left them behind, even in her own heart that couldn’t believe what she had just seen and didn’t know what it meant. Seokjin couldn’t die yet. This wasn’t her doing. Neither of them were supposed to die until she was securely married, so who had done this?! He must be in so much pain.

She reached the palace yard and let the horses be taken control of and didn’t spare a second thought about it. They were slowly lowering Seokjin from the wagon to carry inside but he wasn’t making any noise and she didn’t know what that meant. If he’d been stabbed in the heart, he would already be dead. She couldn’t tell. Even though she saw the knife slide into him again each time she closed her eyes, she wasn’t sure where it hit, and she found herself too afraid to draw close. Instead she looked around, trying to figure out who did this, and whether she was in danger too. She took steps towards Seokjin, then back towards the yard to look for Dulce, then towards the palace because Dulce would tell her to get somewhere safe, right? That’s what she should do. Where was safe when she didn’t know who had just attacked the King and Seokjin, or why, or if she was next?

“Go to your room,” a voice commanded, as clear to her ear as if it had been whispered there. She looked back as Dulce appeared on a horse behind Mindeulle, Lidmila and her mother on others, Namjoon as well. Apparently more houses could be found after all, and in a way Nasimiyu felt like the true guard had just rolled in. They were in the palace and these people would keep her safe. 

Dulce slid from behind Mindeulle –what a place for Nasimiyu’s maid to ride! She wondered how that had come about but was too frazzled to ask. Instead she waited for Dulce to approach, and urge again,

“Go to your room with your guards in with you until we know what happened. Unless you already know?”

“I don’t know,” Nasimiyu insisted. “This wasn’t…”

“So go,” Dulce said again. They both watched as Lidmila’s mother went racing into the palace, where Seokjin and the King had already gone. Dulce looked like she planned to run after them.

Nasimiyu grabbed her arm, “Come with me too. Please.”

“I’ll come with you,” Lidmila said, leaping from her horse to Nasimiyu’s side in no more than three steps. Mindeulle and Namjoon were arguing in hushed whispers several yards away as the stablehands ran around shouting about whose fucking horses were these? As if that mattered right now. 

“Yes, both of you,” Dulce agreed. “Go. I’ll find out what’s going on.”

“No, come with us,” Nasimiyu argued. “What if there’s someone…”

“There’s no one–” Dulce began but was cut off by a woman’s shriek from within the palace. It was not the direction the others had gone. Nasimiyu’s instinct was to jump back onto the horse and ride far away but Dulce dashed without hesitation in the direction of the scream. Mindeulle and Namjoon ran after Dulce, and Nasimiyu’s feet carried her after them without meaning to. Lidmila grabbed her arm to hold her back but Nasimiyu felt tethered to Dulce and Mindeulle and Namjoon; she took Lidmila’s hand and pulled her along, too. Nowhere was safe but these people she was following were probably the ones who could protect them best. Everything Dulce had taught her about self defense had left her mind.

It wasn’t clear who had shrieked, but the why would never be forgotten. Seokjin’s bodyguard –the young one, not Jungkook but the other young one whose name Nasimiyu didn’t know– hung by the neck from the balcony, his bloody body swaying at the end of a velvet sash. A piece of paper was pinned to his chest though no one could read it from below.

“Don’t cut him down!” Dulce shouted at the servants rushing around the balcony. “Pull him up gently.”

“She’s right! Don’t disturb anything that could be on his clothes!” Namjoon yelled. “Don’t do anything until I’m there!” To those close, he muttered, “For all we know they’re fucking in on it. Nobody can be trusted right now– All of you get to Nasimiyu’s room and stay there with the guards– Dulce, you go with them.”

“I need to–”

“You need to get your mistress and these ladies to safety,” Namjoon ordered. “I’ll deal with this. Go!”

“I’ll help,” Mindeulle offered her brother.

“No I can’t keep arguing with you, all of you go and hole up until we know who’s doing this.” He gave Mindeulle a rough shove towards Nasimiyu and set off at a run for the stairs, shouting again at the servants not to do anything until he was there. 

Dulce looked furious, conflicted, but not afraid and Nasimiyu wanted to wrap around her. In the chaos, of course Dulce would be calm and sure of what to do. Nothing would get past Dulce. If Nasimiyu hadn’t sent Dulce away, maybe Dulce would have even stopped the blade before it got to Seokjin. Nasimiyu was sure of it.

“Dulce,” she called, reaching for her, accidentally bumping Lidmila, who had her hands over her eyes. 

“Go to your room. I’ll be there after I see what’s happening with the prince.”

“But Namjoon said–”

“He doesn’t give me orders and neither do you. All three of you go now, I’ll be there soon, you know my knock.”

That order given, Dulce took off. If Mindeulle and Lidmila were shocked by this behavior between the two of them, they said nothing, just looked to Nasimiyu for the first step forward. Nasimiyu tried to pull herself together despite the sick feeling of helplessness. 

“All right, both of you with me. Guards, follow close. We’ll set up a safe space in my room for now.” Her voice sounded shockingly stable as she led the way, fists balled to hide the shaking of her hands. This was no time to fall apart. Just because someone was hunting the royals and their guards for sport, didn’t mean she was next. She wasn’t part of this royal family. Yet. 

Why the fuck wasn’t Dulce with her?

The palace was in chaos but they cut through it, not slowing their steps until all three women and several extra of Nasimiyu’s trusted guards and a couple of her maids were inside her room.

“Brace the door,” she ordered. “No matter what, don’t let those doors open until I say.”

“What do we do? My mother is out there!” Lidmila cried.

“I think she went to be with the King and Seokjin so she’ll be surrounded by guards. For now we… wait,” Nasimiyu said, looking around at those sheltering with her.

“For what?” the maid Bab whispered to Eula.

“Until I say so,” Nasimiyu said, loftily. Unwilling to say the real answer: For Dulce. 

PREVIOUS | MASTERLIST | NEXT

[browniefox]

The Very Best Fics - 2

I am making a second 'best fics according to me' because it is very long. You can access the previous post from here.

On this list is: Daredevil, Disco Elysium, Trigun, Psych, Mob Psycho 100, Undertale, Kingdom Hearts, Final Fantasy VII

Daredevil

My Guardian Avengers (Can I Get A Refund?) - prettybirdy979

Daredevil needs to protect a certain law firm in Hell's Kitchen. He's a little slack about protecting this Matt Murdock fellow though, and the Avengers are only too happy to step in to help. Matt is SO not okay with this. (Shut up Foggy, so what if it's his own fault!)

Prettybirdy979 has done 'Daredevil meets the Avengers' like ten times, and you know what? they hit it out of the park every time. Hell yeah! This one is just as fun, and it's always nice to read a new (uh, new-ish) fic from an author you love :D

Disco Elysium

Excerpts from the Case Notes of Kim Kitsuragi - Hosekisama

Excerpts reference Lieutenant Double-Yefreitor Du Bois' belief that he can (and does) "reload" his own life after failing, like some kind of video game character.

Disco Elysium plays with so many fun video game mechanics, like the 'jamrock shuffle', so honestly the idea that Harry would think in terms of 'reloading' is way fun! I love the ambiguity of whether or not there actually are saves or loads.

Trigun

Start here - AsterAspera ( @aster-aspera )

The first time he wakes, he is in a room. Heavy curtains hang over dusty windowsills and there are crumpled sheets on the bed and crumpled sheets on the floor. The world is quiet while his body screams. Every soft, fleshy, vulnerable part of him is on fire, writhing and roiling in unbearable agony. He wants to move, get away from the mattress that digs into his skin like fingers, like knives, like roots, but his body is frozen without his consent, time stretching endlessly around him as he fights an ocean of pain. And suddenly there are hands on him and worried grey eyes and he wants to scream but his throat is already scraped raw.

We love QPR Vash/Meryl/Wolfwood, and we love stories that drop you into something and you have no idea what's going on. Such a good and interesting fic that drops ideas of what has happened, but also you're not totally sure, and it really puts you into Vash's head for the fic.

I Just Want To Slow Dance With You by easternCriminal

"Wolfwood swears at the radio, and then finally the static parts like the sands after a storm and the warm, slow sounds of a guitar comes out from over the dunes and fills the small room." oOo A soft domestic moment, inspired by Start Here by AsterAspera

Inspired by the fic above, a scene between Meryl and Nicholas (and Vash) as they try and figure out what their dynamic is now. Wonderfully domestic.

Rinse and Repeat by easternCriminal (@the-east-art)

Somehow, Meryl can head the monotone flatline of his heart. And she wakes up again on the road. Meryl starts to realize what is going on.

Time loop, time loop, time loop! Time loops where you're trying so despeartelyl to save someone! Time loops where you start realizing some sacrifices have to be made! Time loops that make you hate and love someone like you never have before!

Press my Corpse against the Wall by Rayawastaken

Meryl kept thinking back to Tonis, small and still so young in his mothers arms. She kept thinking about the fact that if she held onto him a bit stronger, if she had more conviction, he might still have both of his arms. And about how if she had any less of it, Wolfwood might have not woken back up again in that bar. Surely, getting a bit scratched up was worth saving someone’s life. But that’s not how Wolfwood saw it. To him, she’d forever be just some defenseless little thing that stumbled around helplessly and had to be protected. And for all that he complained about Vash having a self-sacrificial streak, he'd rather bleed out on the floor than admit he had needed help. - Wolfwood almost dies, Meryl saves him and gets hurt in the process. They have a fight about it.

I love Mashwood, but the dynamic between Wolfwood and Meryl is often under represented. I especially love this fic's exploration of the fact that Meryl, of the trio, is the most human and the position that puts her in a lot of the time.

CHANGING NATURE (‘TIS THE SEASON) by ainosyn (@tristamp-gunpede)

“How could anyone kill you without killing a part of themselves?” and “I can’t help it, it’s my nature.”

An exploration of all the different ways the story of Trigun could have gone, or could have been told, and about what is inherent to someone's nature. I love this, such a great character study of Knives and Vash.

Never understood a single word he said by aboxthecolourofheartache (@aboxthecolourofheartache)

Meryl drums her fingers on the steering wheel, and Wolfwood gets the sinking feeling of spotting bullshit at a hundred yarz and being unable to do anything about it. “Is it really buried treasure? I don’t believe you,” Meryl sniffs. “You’re stalling or something.” Vash’s lips curl up at the corner and, yes, there’s that mischievous little dimple that heralds doom. “Only one way to find out. If it is buried treasure, next night at a motel is on me. What do you say?" “Hot showers and everything?” Meryl squints at Vash sidelong, she the very picture of suspicion and he of innocence. “Cross my heart,” Vash vows, making a solemn X over his chest. ~~~ A detour turned nightmare, water from the rock, Three Dog Night, and unconventional gestures of trust.

MUST READ MUST READ MUST READ!!!! Best Trigun Fic I think I've ever read, with perfect characterization of Meryl, Vash, and Wolfwood that all feel distinct and accurate, a lot of fun interactions, and just a hint of the good good 'Vash isn't human' stuff I live for.

Psych

All We Are by jumpfall

"I want eyes on Spencer ten minutes ago!" Shawn thinks that maybe another hostage situation is just what they need to bring the team together again.

Love when you find a fic that captures the vibes of the canon so well! The team-as-family in psych is so good and fun, it's what makes it all worthwhile, you know? The characters in Psych are really good, and I'll be honest I live for the times that Shawn manages to actually be selfless and care about others.

the robbed that smiles steals something from the thief by EclipseWing (@shadow-of-the-eclipse)

That one in which Shawn is a con-artist, a liar and a thief.

Hell yeah, EclipseWing, all my homies love EclipseWing! This one is so fun! It's nice to see a Shawn who doesn't get into crime solving but still needs to find something to preoccupy him becoming a theif instead, it's so in person I love it!

Mob Psycho 100

Come Morning Light by NotHereForIt

Reigen is standing in a world that exists, but doesn't, in front of a house that is Mob's, but not, with a man that's dead, but isn't. In which Reigen thinks he's dreaming, and he very much is not.

Dream walking time, hell yeah! In which Reigen helps Mob through is dreams. Poor Mob has PTSD, but at least he's not alone.

knife trick by ruthwrites (@ruemilley)

There wasn’t a rule, exactly, that said that Ritsu wasn’t allowed to spend time with his brother. It was just something that was understood, like how Ritsu understood he wasn't supposed to press his hands along the sharp edges of his mother’s kitchen knives. (or: an age swap where only Mob and Reigen's ages are changed. Shigeo asks his little brother if he wants to walk him home after school. Ritsu should say no. Ritsu does not say no.)

The ending of this one sticks with me, ugh it's so good. Swap au's are so interesting, and I love the way it's done here, especially with Mob and Reigen being swapped, but Ritsu still being the same age.

citrus by orphan_account

He can just barely see Reigen pacing, purposefully quiet. He’s not smiling or laughing like he usually does on the phone. He looks sad. No, he looks upset. Shigeo doesn’t get a chance to wonder why before Reigen is walking back out, eyes carefully trained on his phone before he flips it shut. “Mob, we have a client to go to. I would have taken you home, but your parents aren’t there.” “Why would I have to go home?” Reigen goes quiet for a moment. “We aren’t dealing with a spirit.”

Reigen getting to deal with big problems through his job, and baby Mob learning important life lessons, what more do you need?

I know who I am when I'm alone by RedWritingHood

I'm something else when I see you. The world revolves around the suffering of Kageyama Shigeo. It fails to anticipate the determination of the Greatest Psychic Detective of the 21st Century.

In which Reigen is in Mogamiland and is as stubborn as a mule - even if he doesn't know what he's fighting against or for. A great moment of Reigen being able to comfort Mob - more or less. There are struggles that come with trying to accomplish that.

Undertale

Second Contact by Ononymous

To the participants, monumental days in history rarely feel very monumental when they wake up that morning. A young man at his summer job in the middle of nowhere was about to learn this the hard way.

I love this fic, of Asogre and Frisk meeting the first human outside of the Underground, told from outsider pov. It's a fun continuation of the story, and of how a poor service employee has to be the one to deal with the mess first.

What Little Monsters Are Made Of by Mangaluva

Nobody understands why you keep Flowey. You're not always sure why you do. But you found a way to save everybody else.

A story about love, and a story about believing in someone or something, and about how it's never too late. Post-Game, exploration of the relationship that builds between Flowey, Frisk, and the rest of the monsters over the years.

Kingdom Hearts

Scar Tissue - mimiplaysgames

Terra doesn’t remember certain things. He’s not in control. Even after everything they have been through, he still has the Guardian to contend with.

A little confusing to read sometimes, but super interesting look into after effects of having one's heart stuck in various places, and how it impact Terra without him even knowing it. At the end of the day, Terra is a guardian.

Umbra, Penumbra - end_alls

Roleswap where Vanitas is the one raised with care and compassion in the Land of Departure, and Ventus… is not

A fun and interesting role reversal. In general, the concept of 'too much light' is not explored enough in Kingdom hearts, so a fic that goes into how Ventus is left so incomplete without Vanitas is great.

Affecting Eternity - b-na_hime

One new Keyblade Master. Two new Keyblade wielders. Three thousand ways it could go horribly wrong…

Riku trying so hard to train Lea and Kairi when he's never been formally trained either. Great relationship building between them and how each of them feels about being a keyblade wielder.

reflections, refracted. - vvingblade (@vvingblade)

It's been ten years since then. Time has passed, and wounds are slowly healing. Ven thought he'd moved on, that the memories no longer bother him. All it takes is a single muddled spell to prove him wrong.

Ven has some serious PTSD and it rears its ugly head. Also, Ven can kick ass when he believes his life depends on it. Great Ven characterization that fleshes out Ven a bit more than he usually is.

Final Fantasy VII

The Fifth Act by Sinnatious

Cloud has an accident with a Time materia, and finds himself in the middle of the Wastes at the start of the Wutai War. There are people to save… and for that, there are three people who need to die.

My favorite time-travel fix-it for FFVII I've found so far. Good characterization, fun interactions, and I love how much it grapples with the question of 'should Sephiroth die, when he hasn't done anything'.

A Feather's Edge by Boomchick

Rescue arrives for Sephiroth while he is still a child. It arrives in the form of a blank-faced blonde-haired hero who cannot look at him; Who tends his wounds, and speaks kindly, but whose eyes are filled with hate and fear. If only Sephiroth knew the rules of this world outside the labs, maybe he could figure out how to stop making Cloud so angry...

An interesting look into, even if Sephiroth was saved, how messed up he is since childhood and how that impacts how he views people, sitautions, and relationships with other people. Kinda wish it was a little longer, but also I think it ends where it needs to end, if that makes sense. Really love Cloud trying to grapple with being a good adult for a child while battling his PTSD over said child.

In the Woods, Somewhere - DoveFanworks

On an ordinary day, two against one would hardly feel fair. But today was not an ordinary day, and Gods damn if this man wasn’t proving to be worth every bit of their combined effort. It was ludicrous. Unheard of. Before today, he would have thought it impossible. But somehow, someway, this man, this stranger who had come from out of nowhere, was fighting off two of the most powerful fighters in the world. At the same time.

Unresolved Time Travel au where Cloud takes on the three Firsts and kicks ass! I love how thought out the fight scenes are, taking into account the abilites of everyone involved and what they're capable of. Wonderfully orchestrated, wonderful to read.

Rebound - emrald_writes

Genesis knows the moment that they step into the little town that whatever it is plaguing them it isn’t a curse.

I Love fics that have surprisingly in depth worlds that makes you feel like you're looking into a world so much bigger and more thought out than you expected. Such an interesting magic system and a fun mystery to boot. I will say, the ending feels a little strange, but the rest most than makes up for it.

As They Bask in the Material World - Traxits

Every year, Reeve tours the outer reactors. This year, Veld is unable to escort him, so Tseng gets the job. It's just his luck that the car breaks down, and perhaps the best idea was not to spend the night in Cosmo Canyon…

Hi welcome to the beginning of the 'brownie falls in love with reeve' section of this. Anyway, great and interesting relationship between Reeve and Tseng, and EXTREMELY cool take on how young Reeve would react to Cosmo Canyon.

Before She Hangs Her Head to Cry - Traxits

Reeve had been reasonably certain that no one was in his office. It seemed like a logical assumption to make, given that he was not there and that no one short of the President had a key. One day, he would learn to stop assuming anything when he counted the Turks among his friends.

Not enough people talk about Reeve and kidnapping Marlene! Love the backstory that is hinted at for Reno here, getting to see Reeve's thoughts and such, and how Marlene's upbringing shows up throughout her actions. The characterization is just, *mwah*, beautiful.

Little Birds by katineto

Marlene's Papa is gone, and she is scared—or, the kidnapping, from Marlene's perspective.

Reeve is terrible with children. I love seeing Marlene's POV in the whole mess, trying to make sense of what is going on and feeling so scared.

Through Another's Eyes by CorsairOriginal

Elmyra Gainsborough had only wanted to live a life in peace, but war keeps coming to her door. She had only wanted her arrangement with Marlene Wallace to be temporary, but now that she's a part of Elmyra's life she has to face the consequences of that decision. Director Reeve Tuesti didn't choose to become a spy, but orders from President Rufus Shinra are not to be refused. He didn't choose to admire a group of renegades, but now that they're a part of his life he can't walk away so easily. ~ "Through Another's Eyes" is an in-depth view of the major notes of Reeve's story in Final Fantasy VII, starting from Marlene's abduction by Shinra to the end of the original game--rewriting some concepts and adding elements from the Compilation of FF7, including Before Crisis and FFVII Remake.

THE PINNACLE OF REEVE FICS. So so so good! Great relationship of Reeve with everybody, and how he deals with the events of FFVII. The moment at the end when he finally meets everyone? FUCK YEAH, that's what it's all about baby! Fic that got me hooked on the inspire!Reeve characterization.

I'm Fine - WinterEvenings

“Cloud!” His eyes snap open, but it doesn’t do much good. All he can see is darkness anyway. They were trapped. It was his fault. It was all his fault.

Cloud is so fucked up as far as priorities and his own health is concerned. it's terrible and wonderful at the same time. Gotta love a good dose of whump.

[yichuuonvenus]

The Party- I

Ethan Landry x Reader

Tainted Love- chapters

~Warnings~

Rape/Non-con, Loss of Virginity, Cock Warming, Dacryphilia, Knifeplay, Forced Orgasms, Corruption, Murder, Blood, Nightmares, Stalking, Underage Drinking, Attempted assault, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Forced Relationship, Dacryphilia, Isolation, Attempted assault

You and Tara got ready, giggling as Quinn was in the other room. Another one of her boy toys was over. You couldn’t remember the names of the men she had in her room. Paul? Was this one’s name? Ryan? You couldn’t care enough to remember. But it’s nice to remember things that have nothing to do with what was going on in your mind at all times. 

 “Tara…” you quietly asked as music played to cover Quinn’s vigorous lovemaking. 

Sza was on, Ghost in the Machine calming the air. 

“Yeah?” She said as she finished her eye makeup. 

“Are you sure we should be going to this party?” You said as your hands fiddled with themselves. Picking at the skin causes your nails to bleed and crack from doing it constantly. Ever since… 

“You sound like Sam,” she said with a laugh. 

“I just- never mind,” you said, throwing yourself on the bed stomach down. 

“Hey hey, it’s going to be okay. It’s just going to be a night of fun. A night of forgetting,” she said as she stared in the mirror before making her way over to you. “Let’s go make bad choices.” 

You both laughed as you exited the room. 

You were dressed like Little Red Riding Hood. It was a cute outfit. A puffy skirt with cute black lace all over the bodice. You had a black ribbon in your hair. The one Sam gave you at the age of 6. You could remember how much you cried from Chad bullying you for still carrying around your stuffed animal. She gave you it along with a few cookies. You could still remember the smile on your face when you saw Chad in time-out. 

You made your way out into the street hailing a taxi with ease from living in the city for a good couple of months now. 

You were thriving in this new environment. You were truly so happy. 

The taxi ride was filled with playful banter. The driver was silent for the whole drive. It should’ve had you on edge but you didn’t want to be untruthful to people and live in constant fear. So you chose to ignore it. When you finally got to the house, what frat house you didn’t know, you jumped out so quickly Tara couldn’t help but follow your movements. 

“Chill out Road Runner, the party is not going anywhere,” she said with a chuckle. 

“Sorry, I’m just so excited.” A lie and you both knew it. 

“Hey, guys!!” Anika shouted in delight. She hugged the both of you. 

“Hi,” you said with a smile. You didn’t know Anika all that well. All you knew was that she was the pretty girlfriend to Mindy.

“So you all ready to partayyy,” Chad said with a hearty laugh. 

“Ugh if it will get you to shut up, yes! Lead the way,” Mindy replied. 

Chad glared at her before making his way towards the front of the group leading the way. 

You were in the back of the group with Ethan. He was dressed in an interesting costume, one you knew of. 

“Murder party huh?” You asked. Your red hood was on the top of your head almost shielding your eyes leading you to pull down the hood. 

“You… are you talking to me?” Ethan said with a gasp. 

“Well yeah who else would be dressed as one of the characters from that movie,” I giggled. 

“Well uh… yeah. You know the movie?”

“Yeah, my dad is a very big fan of scary movies. I only watched a few with him. They freak me out.” You quietly said. 

It was quiet the rest of the walk down. Ethan was nerdy, super very nerdy. You found it a little endearing but you couldn’t help but ignore that growing feeling you’ve hated with a vengeance. 

Ever since Wes, you couldn’t even think about dating again. You couldn’t even look at men the same. Not only because he held no interest in you but for Tara. But the fact he was killed by one of, who you believed was a friend. You’ve grown scared of forming relationships but you knew you had to for the sake of Tara. Of your friends. 

When you guys entered the house everyone immediately scattered leaving you with Chad and Ethan. 

“Looks like only the best people are left,” he said as he raised his hand for a high five. 

You couldn’t help but grimace with a smile and high-five him. 

“That’s what I’m talking about!” 

The party was just like the movies. The combination of drunk college kids and music blasting through the house made it a fun atmosphere. 

You couldn’t help but be alone for most of the night. Nursing a cup as you watch drunk people chug the rest of a keg. You wished you could enjoy this type of life. But you couldn’t. Not with your dark past hanging over you. You almost died last year and all you wanted to do was forget about it and try to move on. 

You kept chugging down drinks. It made you dizzy and a bit nauseous but you kept doing it. Until it caused you to tip over, before you could fall on the floor someone caught you by your elbow. He was tall and with dark green eyes and light blonde hair. He reminded you of a Golden Retriever puppy. 

“You alright?” His voice was so sweet and soft it made you want to cry. 

“I- I’m fine…” you said quietly pulling your arm away from the mystery man. 

His eyes were fixed into a worried position and he frowned a bit. 

“Are you sure?” 

You almost sobbed because you knew you weren’t all right. You held the tears back as well as you could. 

“Hey hey… it’s okay,” he said, helping you sit down on a chair. “Lemme get you some water.” 

He left you for a bit and you sat there with unfocused eyes staring at the world around you. You could faintly see Tara talking to who you knew infamously as Date rape Frankie. 

You couldn’t help but stand back up and go to Tara. 

“Tara… where are you going?” You slurred your words and were stumbling over each other quite a bit. 

“I’m going upstairs with this guy,” she said also in a slurry haze. 

He looked like an asshole from the way he spoke and the way he stared at you. 

“Honestly you can come along too. I've always wanted a three-way,” the man said. 

You wanted to throw up all over him but your eyes remained on Tara. 

“I think- I don’t think you should,” you quietly said. Trying your best to stay upright. 

Tara noticed your state but she was too fucked up to even do anything.

“I’m fine trust me…” she said and that was when they started to go further to the foyer. Anika was swift at pulling Tara. 

“Hey… you wanna call it a night?” Anika said worries flooded her features. 

Tara was hesitant but for some reason, words just fell out of her mouth. 

“I think I’m gonna hang. But you guys don’t have to wait for me.” 

Frankie spoke up before you could try to persuade her. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of her. I’m Frankie-” 

“Anddd I’m spectacularly uninterested in knowing anything about you.” You couldn’t stop the small giggle leaving you before you quickly quieted from Frankie’s glare. “You’ve had too much, Tara.” 

“I’m not that bad, I swear. Thanks for checking on me.” 

You watched as they started to get closer to the stairs. Anika huffed and left. You didn’t know where she went. 

“Hey, why did you leave?” the blonde boy from earlier said. He had a cute pleading look that had your heart hammering. 

“My- my friend she…” All you could do was point at them as soon as the boy saw who it was he grimaced. You both watched as Anika showed back up with Chad and Ethan trailing behind them. 

“Heyyy, pal. No private tours for this one, ‘kay?” Chad said covering his anger with his broish tone. 

“Sorry, bro, I didn’t catch that,” Frankie said unamused by the group of people stopping him. 

“Yeah, bro, you did. Tara’s good down here-”

“It’s fine, Chad. I want to,” Tara muttered. 

“See, Chad? She wants to.”

It was quick the way it all happened. Frankie grabbed Tara by the arm but then Chad grabbed Frankie by the shirt before he could land a punch Sam appeared out of nowhere. All you saw then was Sam tasering Frankie. 

“Don’t ever put your hands on my sister!” Sam said. 

“Shit…” you said under your breath. “I have to go.” 

You couldn’t stop to talk to the blonde-haired boy before Mindy had your arm and pulled you out. 

“I didn’t catch your name!” he yelled, shocked by the whole scene in front of him. 

“You’ll probably never will,” Mindy yelled back with a laugh. She eyed you and cocked an eyebrow. You shrugged as she held you upright. 

Tara was already on the road. Embarrassment is written all over her features. 

“Tara!” Sam called.

You already knew how this was going to go, another fight. You stood behind Ethan, you had lost Mindy along the way so you were holding onto him too drunk to even stand on your own. His arm was wrapped around you, protectively. You shut out the screaming but your ears perked up as you were dragged into the conversation. 

“You could’ve got hurt or worse! LOOK AT Y/N, she can barely stand!” Sam screamed. As if everyone suddenly remembered your presence you turned and hid inside Ethan's chest. The cardboard part of his clothes was digging into your skin but you didn’t care, you just wanted all the eyes on you to disappear. 

Chad decided to speak up not wanting Sam to be more upset than she already was, “Sam let's just chill out-”

But before he could finish what he was saying a girl threw a drink at Sam as they shouted murderer. Chad and Tara made sure to hold her back as she screamed at them. You kinda blanked out the rest of the night and when you woke up you were in a bed. One you recognized as Tara's. It was still very dark, the moon was glimmering in the night sky. You stood up, your movements were slow but not in a drunken stupor. 

You heard the TV low and steady no one was talking, not even faint whispering could be heard. The room was deathly silent.

Previous Chapter? Next Chapter?

[acidic-eye]

Oh god just had to teach four people at once how to make a character for DnD. Fun fact: IVE NEVER PLAYED EITHER IDFK WHAT IM DOING.

Anyways now I’m running a witchlight campaign with four of my closest friends and I’m already predicting the productivity level of OUAW with them.

I mean one of them has a patron which is the god of weed. Like genuinely-

Oh and there is no healer- so my npc I was going to introduce to work with them when they got to the inn at the end of the road is now gonna have to join them ALOT earlier. Otherwise these fuckers are gonna die so quick holy shit

Did I mention I’ve never played before? Yeah so it’s 5 first time players. If anyone has any like- advice for me pls give me any suggestions in the comments or smth cause I’m kinda fucking around and finding out rn

Oh yeah btw that means I’m gonna be taking longer to write bc first session is Friday lmao so uh I’m working on that instead of writing

[tanglemoth]

After the death of ShadowClan's previous leader, Roaringstar, who left the Clan without a deputy, a vision is given to the healer. Influenced by it, she picks a warrior named Spottedfur. Now Spottedstar, the molly is tasked with leading ShadowClan from thetwolegplace to the forest and establish it as a faction worth considering and not just a band of rogues. But the road twoards this vision is long and dificcult. Spottedstar will not only need to battle other Clans, but her own flaws and conflicts within her own group. Prologue (Page 1)

A cover for the mentioned comic!

So, uh, fun fact. I kind of changed the main character last minute. Previously it was meant to be Ravenheart, but he was pretty meh in character development range.

Spottedstar though... She has a lot of things going on. A lot of things to go trough. In general, she works much better as the main character in this case.

Page 1 will be uploaded soon!

[cutekittenlady]

Trains, Planes, and Autobots

Summary Fic Part 6

[Previous] [Next]

As previously said, a black car pulls up (all dramatic like) and Agent Schloder steps out. (I actually really like Agent Schloder. I think hes a good and fun character and I really want him to be a major character in S2 who interacts with the cast a lot more.) And says, in a cool tough guy voice, "You called?"

Dot gives him a tired look and simply tells him he's late.

Schloder gets shifty and admits he was held up in yet another (of many many) meetings trying to sort out the remainder of GHOST and trying to uncover everything that was hidden away by his (late) sister.

Alex asks if it was anything dangerous.

Schloder responds that, no, it wasn't anything dangerous. But still very very important.

Deciding on a new acronym. However they're not having a lot of luck.

Dot is unimpressed and gives Schloder an insanely brief summary of events and brings him up to speed on whats happening.

The second he hears that Optimus wants to send a human with bumblebee on a mission to trace after Breakdown Schloder begins a long speech as he attempts to volunteer.

Only for Alex to interrupt him and say that he'd be more than happy to go along. Bumblebee had masqueraded as his car for a long time anyway, and they've driven together plenty of times. It just feels natural for Alex to slide on over into the drivers seat to avoid discovery from humans. Especially after spending so long avoiding GHOST.

Before Schloder can argue, Bumblebee agrees. Besides Nightshade and Thrash are technically Alex's kids anyway, so its not like he can just say no.

Alex happily heads to the house to pack up some clothes and basic camping gear for the "trip" leaving Schloder disappointed.

Dot takes over again and tells him that while she initially invited him over to figure out what to do with the collected database of all the transformers on Earth (and they still plan to cover that), she thinks he and Hashtag can be useful in helping Jawbreaker identify the bot he saw Breakdown looking up.

Schloder takes to this new role immediately and asks Jawbreaker what he can recall about the "subject" in question.

Jawbreaker responds that he was red.

"Okay great start! What else?"

"Thats uh... kinda it?"

".... Oh this is going to take awhile."

Ratchet volunteers to stick around at the barn to help with the identification as well as maintain communications. He's seen more autobots and decepticons over the course of the war than he can count, and besides, he's not sure he can still keep up with Bumblebee and the other "young bots" on the road, and isn't confident he'd be much use if the encounter with the stunticons broke out into a fight. Beyond that hes been in contact with Wheeljack over some kind of new breakthrough he thinks will be useful.

Bumblebee thanks Megatron for backing up his idea, but Megatron only says that its whats necessary to settle the matter. He admits to having been previously unaware of his and Breakdowns history together. Breakdown evidently didn't advertise the fact when amongst the decepticon ranks. Though Megatron acknowledges that this was likely for the best.

Optimus tells bumblebee to gather some energon for the trip as well as some water for the Terrans. Theres no telling how far Breakdown may go before they manage to piece anything together. With bumblebee off getting energy, Optimus pulls ratchet aside and asks if he's had a chance to talk to bumblebee yet. Ratchet says he hasn't. Megatron tells him they can't possibly put it off forever to which Ratchet angrily responds he's "working on it" and that he'll have plenty of time to tell him when this is all over.

Robbie and Mo are left wondering which team they're going with. Dot tells them she wants them to stay at the house and help with communications. Robbies not happy about getting left out when the Terrans and their dad are going into potentially dangerous circumstances. However Dot points out that their teams can't be too large or else it could interfere with their ability to manuever. Its true she doesnt want the two of them in a dangerous situation, but she doesnt want any of them in a dangerous situation. She also tells them that she knows they're both incredibly smart kids and have more than proven that they're able to figure things out. Thats why shes trusting them at home with Schloder collecting and piecing together all of the information they get from the split teams.

If Breakdown is getting up to something with some other Decepticons, having a well manned home base that will keep everyone up to date with the latest information is crucial.

Robbie still isn't happy about it but accepts the logic.

Alex shouts at his family from the upstairs window and asks if they know where the charger to his tablet is as he needs to pack it so he can watch his "stories" on the road.

Smash cut back to Breakdown on the road with Hardtop and Swindle. Breakdown isn't happy with the very late start of their trip, but Hardtop points out that if the autobots really were after them, they'd likely have caught up by now. Breakdown quietly admits that thats true and that the Autobots must have believed him.

Swindle asks Breakdown what sort of story he cooked up to convince the Autobots to let him access the database. Breakdown simply says (without much enjoyment) that he didn't really lie. He just sort of misled. Regardless of how he got the information, they have their starting point to look for the doctor they need to safely attach Hardtops arm.

Hardtop asks how he plans to convince the doctor to do the procedure. After all he and Swindle dont exactly have a "clean" record.

Breakdown just tells him to leave that to him.

With that the three speed down the highway.

[tarabyte3]

Fic Updates

It's been a while soo....

I Want You to Show Me Weak — As I've stated before, there are only 2 chapters left in the entire fic. I'm going to be finishing both of them before I post chapter 26. Then I'll be posting chapter 27 the next day. Gonna end the fic with a bang 😏 I have everything outlined and thought out, I just have to finish writing it (I'm very excited about what I have planned/written for the final chapter, which includes the ending). Though I will admit, it's been difficult to write knowing I'll be saying goodbye to this story. I'll miss my boys SO much 😭, as well as this version of Kino x Reader, but I want to finish it for myself and for all of you! Besides, there's always the possibility of oneshots set in this universe in the future AND I'm not done writing for Kino. Not even close! I have no date estimate at the moment, but I'm trying to give this one my full attention so 🤞

The Devil Makes Us Sin — Once Show Me Weak is done, I'm going to give this one my full attention for a while. (Though, to be honest, even though I'm trying to focus on finishing Kino first, I still keep this document open and regularly pop in to write a paragraph or two. What can I say, David is VERY fun to write for 😏, I love him, and I must follow the serotonin). The next few chapters will be shorter so they should go quickly, and I already have around the next 4 of them half written (I actually have about ~25k of future stuff written last time I checked, including parts of chapters MUCH further down the road 😅).

Other Wips

While my focus has been on my ongoing stories, I do have a few other WIPs I have actual content written for! So here's an update on those as well. For fun.

Personal Trainer!Kino x Reader Modern AU — I have the beginning of this story and a few scenes written, and SO many notes for it. (My relationship with my trainer is fantastic. He's 50% big brother energy, 50% wingman energy, but he says THE most out of pocket shit so I immediately write it down after my sessions. Because him saying it does nothing for me, but imagining Kino saying it?? 😵‍💫🫠🥵) It will probably end up ~5 chapters total. Probably.

And Your Heart, Love, Has Such Darkness (David x Reader smutty Oneshot) — I started this one a year ago because I wrote something for TDMUS that didn't quite fit, but I liked it enough to keep it and make it its own thing. It's over half done right now, so it will likely be the next oneshot I post.

I Didn't Want to Hurt You, but You're Pretty When You Cry (Dark!David x Reader) — I think this one will end up about 3 chapters long and will contain a lot of content warnings. It's going to be more horror focused (with splashes of dark humor because I cannot help myself). I adore the opening chunk I've written. It gave me goosebumps.

Secret Andy Blorbo x Reader Oneshot — This one started as a joke on Discord about an Andy blorbo that is not only incredibly niche/unknown, but is actively not attractive (one of the very rare times Andy Serkis does nothing for me. In fact, when I see him, my vagina makes the windows shutdown noise). Except I made the mistake of saying, "I want to try to write for this character as a fun challenge just so I can sexually confuse everyone." And it, uh, spiraled from there and made me rethink my entire stance on this character (thank you for not only indulging me, Hannah, but encouraging me and giving me more ideas 💖 I loved [redacted] thirst day in TNBF)

Halsin x Tav — That's right, I'm writing for the sexy druid. It'll be 2 chapters, and it's about a third of the way finished. This Tav will be a human fighter, but is otherwise written more like a Reader Insert. (Side note: going back to 3rd person POV after writing a lot of 2nd person POV is harder than I imagined 🙃)

Paz Vizsla x Mando!Reader Oneshot — That's right, I'm also writing for the big Mandalorian. It's about a third of the way finished as well. (These last 2 are actually a little intimidating because the fandoms are MUCH larger, but I need to get them out sooo fuck it, it's happening.)

So as you can see, even though I haven't posted very much outside of Liam Black, I'm still writing a lot. Apparently I just have commitment issues and a lot of ✨thots✨ 😌💖

[scribbly-bear]

Got tagged by two people so I'll do both here.

Questions from @larissa-the-scribe

I'll do this one with Ragunoe.

How does your character feel about long road trips?

I feel like he'd enjoy it but definitely be tired after, he'd probably be in charge of directions.

2. What's your character's favorite letter of the alphabet and why?

Uh, I don't think he has a favorite letter, I've never thought about that before.

3. Opinion on rainy weather?

Very cozy for tea and reading a book! Though he wouldn't want to be out in it.

Questions from @katiethedane12

I'll do this one with Reap, he's a bit less know though.

What do they keep in their bag?

Not sure if he has a bag, maybe a couple pouches, but he's got lots of random trinkets and such, things he's pickpocketed.

2. Do they have any nicknames? What are they?

Ian calls him "shorty" and "kiddo" as a joke, both annoy him a lot since he's often mistaken as a child because he's so short. (He's like 4' something)

(Fun fact, originally "Reap" was a nickname, but then it became his actual name)

3. What's a weird thing they are obsessed with?

Stealing, he finds it fun and exciting, both when it goes unnoticed and when it turns into a chase.

Thanks for tagging me!

Questions

Do they have any hobbies? If so, what are they?

What's their greatest fear?

Favorite animal and why?

Tagging @masterfuldoodler @blue-haired-rock @creatively-storm @squishidoodles @ethanjhake

No pressure if you don't want to!

I think the rules are to make a new post, but idk

[glitchyk]

Mafia blacks incorrect quotes pt 2:

Other mafia incorrect quotes

Characters:

M!Jeffery

M!Rabid @mafia-rabid-mercenary2

M!Dia @mafia-dia-smthidk

M!Bun @mafia-bun

M!Dash @the-mafia-bear

M!Moshieee @mafia-moshie

M!Kay @mafia-kay

All canon characters in this, as of recent times, for the blacks. I might do one including everyone’s favorite non canon characters if I get the time and people wanna see it. Remember that these are all just for the sillies.

Yeah dash is in these, but I made them a while ago.

That’s why this one is short, we have to cut out the traitor 💃 so I’m posting all the old ones so I can do the new ones and slander him.

••+^+••

M!Kay: If you get in trouble, I'm gonna be like... a lawyer to you. Ok?

M!Dia: Okay.

*later*

M!Bun: M!Dia! Sit down on the chair, you're in trouble.

M!Kay, whispering: Deny everything.

M!Dia, loudly: That isn't a chair.

••+^+••

M!Rabid: Astrology is fun because I can pretend that all of my behaviors are just a result of being a Gemini and not symptoms of mental illness.

M!Jeffery: Being a Gemini is a mental illness. That’s not hate it’s just a fact.

••+^+••

M!Dash: Anybody got any crayons so I can color in my Ph. D.?

••+^+••

M!Jeffery: What's the scariest horror movie you've ever watched?

M!Rabid: IT.

M!Kay: Annabelle.

M!Moshieee: Paranormal Activity.

M!Dash: High School Musical. All throughout high school I was scared that everyone was gonna randomly get up and start singing and dancing, and I would be the only one who doesn't know the words.

••+^+••

M!Bun: Good morning!

M!Jeffery: Is it? Is it really?

••+^+••

M!Moshieee: Croissants: dropped

M!Dash: Road: works ahead

M!Bun: BBQ sauce: on my titties

M!Dia: Shavacado: fre

M!Kay: Miss Keisha: fuckin dead

M!Jeffery:

M!Jeffery: ...I didn’t understand a single word of that and I hate every single one of you.

••+^+••

M!Dash to M!Bun: Me? I'm the bee knees, but, you? You're just...

M!Dia: Cockroach ankles!

M!Dash: Ye- uh, what?

••+^+••

M!Dash, spraying a melted cutting board with a tiny water gun: We gotta cool this bitch down. Cool it down.

M!Moshieee: I actually just put the cutting board in the oven...

M!Dia, visibly confused: Okay, so they decided to put the cutting board in the oven?

M!Dash, spraying M!Moshieee: You FUCKING DUMBASS!

M!Moshieee: Dude, I forgot-

M!Dash: OH MY FUCKING GOD! We're trying to make Chicken Alfredo right now, and you fucking MELT the cutting board in the oven at 400 DEGREES FAHRENHEIT!?

M!Bun: *Watching in complete confusion while trying to process this whole situation.*

••+^+••

M!Kay, about a fight between M!Moshieee and M!Dash: It scares me how many knives were involved.

M!Rabid: There… weren’t any knives involved though?

M!Kay: That’s what scares me.

••+^+••

M!Kay: Are you good?

M!Dash: In what sense?

M!Kay: Generally.

M!Dash: Oh, definitely not.

••+^+••

M!Kay: Hey, M!Moshieee, have you thought about having children?

M!Moshieee: ...

M!Moshieee: Does looking over you and the others not seem like I already do? Because I promise you, it sure feels like it.

M!Kay: But we're not childr-

M!Moshieee, already distracted: M!JEFFERY, PUT THE FIRE DOWN!

••+^+••

M!Kay: What do you think M!Rabid will do for a distraction?

M!Bun: They'll probably, like, make a noise or throw a rock. That's what I would do.

*Building explodes and several car alarms go off*

M!Bun: ...or they could do that.

••+^+••

M!Moshieee: Remember, if you get captured, no matter what they do, don’t talk!

M!Dia: What if they torture us?

M!Moshieee: Just don’t talk!

M!Dia: Can we scream a little?

••+^+••

M!Rabid: That’s the longest worm I’ve ever seen.

M!Jeffery: That’s a snake.

••+^+••

M!Rabid: Hey, about that love letter you sent me-

M!Jeffery: *blushes* What are your thoughts?

M!Rabid: The fourth sentence-

M!Jeffery: Yeah, that’s where I got really emotional and I-

M!Rabid: It’s “you’re” not “your”.

••+^+••

M!Dia: Reverse tooth fairy where you leave money under your pillow and the tooth fairy comes and leaves you a bunch of teeth.

M!Kay: Why?

M!Dia, shaking a bag of teeth: Just because.

••+^+••

M!Rabid: M!Jeffery told me to stop being immature, so I told them to get out of my fort.

••+^+••

M!Dash: I just wanna be called cute 21/7.

M!Dia: Why no 24/7?

M!Dash: Snack breaks.

••+^+••

M!Rabid: What’s it like being tall?

M!Rabid: Is it nice?

M!Rabid: Can you reach comfortably for the cupboards?

M!Bun: We live in constant fear of the short ones who, in my experience, will climb 4 chairs, 2 boxes, a small coffee table and 6 oddly placed stools to get what they want.

M!Dash: It was one time!

••+^+••

M!Moshieee: Of course I have a lot of pent-up rage, you fool! I've been the same height since I was twelve!

••+^+••

M!Rabid: If you spell skeletons backwards, it still spells skeletons.

M!Bun, deadpan: Wow, I can't wait for Halloween to see some snoteleks.

••+^+••

M!Bun: What’s sexting?

M!Moshieee: I'm not having this conversation with you.

••+^+••

M!Moshieee: Problem, I can't tell if this food is over-sauced or undercooked.

M!Rabid: Solution, just pop it back in the oven for another 10 minutes. There's at least a 50% chance that'll fix it, right?

M!Dash: Result? Food has somehow become unpleasantly soggy and unpleasantly crunchy at the exact same time.

M!Jeffery: No better time than this to pull out my favorite word! Slunchy!

M!Kay: ...put it away.

••+^+••

M!Moshieee: M!Rabid told me that brown is just navy orange, and I have never been more disappointed with something I agree with.

••+^+••

M!Jeffery: How’s practice going?

M!Moshieee: Terrible. I want to stab everybody there.

M!Jeffery: Okay, just don’t get any blood on your clothes.

M!Moshieee: …you shouldn’t be condoning this.

M!Jeffery: Don’t tell me how to live my life.

••+^+••

M!Dia: We need a plan to beat them.

M!Jeffery: Okay, listen up. First, we fill their shoes with wet cat food.

M!Dia:

M!Jeffery: Judge me all you want, I get results.

••+^+••

M!Moshieee: I love you.

M!Dia: How many people have you said that to?

M!Moshieee: Everyone.

M!Dia: What?

M!Moshieee: I told everyone that I love you.

••+^+••

M!Kay: Just a minute. I need to go take out the trash.

M!Moshieee: Oh. We're going out?

M!Kay: Wh...

••+^+••

M!Dash: M!Dia, you're an asshole, man.

M!Dia: You are what you eat M!Dash.

••+^+••

M!Dia: I suppose you’re right. We really would be better off working together.

M!Moshieee: So, then… détente?

M!Dia: Agreed.

M!Moshieee: Understanding?

M!Dia: Possibly.

M!Moshieee: Cooperation?

M!Dia: Maybe.

M!Moshieee: Trust?

M!Dia: Out of the question.

••+^+••

M!Kay, playing a video game: How do I play?

*M!Kay has drawn first blood!*

*M!Kay is on a killing spree!*

*M!Kay is on a rampage!*

*M!Kay is unstoppable!*

*M!Kay is dominating!*

*M!Kay is godlike!*

M!Kay: Don’t worry guys, I figured it out.

••+^+••

M!Dia: We need a way to lure in new customers?

M!Moshieee: Maybe we could have some fun, interactive events!

M!Dash: M!Kay bath water.

M!Kay: ABSOLUTELY NOT!

••+^+••

M!Kay: Wow, great work on the Halloween decorations. Where did you get the fake skeletons?

M!Rabid: Fake?

••+^+••

M!Dia: We've got to find a way to cut down our expenses. What can we live without?

M!Kay: M!Jeffery, probably.

••+^+••

M!Bun: Okay, two person huddle.

M!Jeffery: You can't huddle with two people. This is just a hug.

••+^+••

M!Rabid: I'm not funny, I'm just really mean and people think I'm joking.

••+^+••

M!Bun: BEHOLD, the field in which I grow my fucks! Lay thine eyes upon it, and thou shalt see that it is barren!

••+^+••

M!Moshieee: I am an expert at identifying birds.

M!Bun: Okay, what about those ones flying over there?

M!Moshieee: Yeah, they're all birds.

••+^+••

M!Dash: I dropped M!Jeffery.

M!Moshieee: M!Dash, what the fuck.

••+^+••

M!Rabid: Hold on, I can explain!

M!Dash: Really? Can you now?

M!Rabid: I can if you give me a minute to think of a convincing lie.

••+^+••

M!Jeffery: Wow. I keep stepping on a lot of crunchy twigs.

M!Dia: Those are bones, M!Jeffery.

M!Jeffery: *looks straight up* Not if I never look down.

[storytellers-and-co]

Ya boys about to hit Shadowbringers

I got through Stormblood post-game last night and BOY what a ride it was!? I could barely put the game down, even when I was trying to pace myself so I don't leave certain friends too far behind. Adding spoilery stuff below the cut, because I know one of 'em reads this blog (I just need to gush a little while things are still fresh in my mind)

Okay so. All the revelations of Garlemald and how, WHY it was created? I loved that, it so easily explained why a whole ass country has been the default 'evil conquerors' for so long without any real challenge or change until now. Because the real man behind the whole thing is STILL AT IT. Change don't happen if the original reason, the original driving force is still kicking about.

Also I wanna kick Solus. I wanna kick Solus so hard. Props for the animators, writer and Rene Zagger, it's on sight now old man, I'm coming for your kneecaps!

Speaking of voice actors, Luke Allen-Gale! Hot damn did he do a good job as Zenos (and the possessed Zenos)! I have complicated feelings about Zenos, ngl - He's one of those characters that I know cannot be saved, fixed, or redeemed, but I can also see why he's such a popular character? Personally it's the voice and certain lines that did it for me. Got some shivers out of certain line-deliveries.

He's actually a character that makes me kinda sad - it's a reminder that there is some characters that are doomed by the canon, they'll never be good people, and yet you can see a glimmer, a potential of what-ifs, could-have-beens and all that. A road that was there but refused by the character because that's just not who they are.

Also Varis is also on the kick on the face list. Black Rose is bad. Stop it.

AND NOW ON THE LATEST THING that actually got two of my friends laughing: The final fight against Zenos-Zombie! Zenbie? Zomnos? The- the dead body possessed by the Ascian who I keep calling Ildi because names hard. Ildinos.

So the final fight against him. One, I absolutely loved being Hien for a moment, he quickly became one of my faves through the Stormblood (he's such a fun, up-beat character that takes the life by stride while also not being a pushover, and that's such a good quality to have!).

Two.... GOD DAMMIT WHOEVER YOU ARE, COULDN'T YOU HAD PICKED A BETTER TIME FOR YOUR BLOODY HOUSECALL, YOU NEARLY COST ME MY HEAD! If it wasn't for our local stray cat of a dragoon, we would've lost then and there and you would've lost your chance to have the WoL helping out on the count of NOT HAVING A HEAD, pick your times better oui raatmacc raqan! (This is a joke I know he couldn't have known I was locked in a death-match. I hope.)

Now if ya wondering why I am not more outraged about the fact they've effectively kidnapped my friends, I uh. I actually felt a huge surge of sympathy at the start for the character. idk something about the voice painted a picture of someone desperate and... sad? Upset? Distressed? Something like that just got my empathy flaring up. So while I am mad that I keep getting these calls and everyone around me is panicking in fear, I also want to get to the bottom of this because apparently my empathy levels are far too fucking high.

(Yes I am the type of person who wants to help everyone in any of the games I play in. It's my ultimate power fantasy, being able to help and comfort folks without my actual personality coming in the way)

I think that's all for me now folks, I am taking a small break before heading to Shadowbringers - I have few alts that need to catch up to HW at the very least, and a laundry-list of things for my main to go through. Like all the gathering side-quests, Eureka, unlocking all the primal fights and fixing my glamors etc. We're also trying to get a house for Storytellers, so i gotta help gather some extra funds + items.