#(Someday I will complete this story but in the meantime you can continue to enjoy Shiver Siblings being themselves)

[desultory-novice]

I know I was the one who first put the idea forward, but as soon as you said that @galapathy a certain vision popped into my head...

I hold that Apologies would 100% be your standard "embittered guy beaten down by life sacrifices everything to protect the innocence of tiny girl-child whose heart is as pure as the driven snow..." except that Adeleine is a bit too SILLY to qualify for that last part XD

[crissiebaby]

Double Diaper Dare: Chapter 7

ATTENTION ALL CB FANS! Heyyo! As you may be already aware, the official CB Patreon has been removed, along with countless other ABDL, Ageplay, and Furry accounts. For those looking to continue their support from Patreon, I have made plans available on SubscribeStar and pixivFanbox. I'll be spending much of the next week transferring over 500 stories and art pieces over to their new homes but any help we can get in the meantime would be greatly appreciated. Regardless, thank you for continuing to support my silly stories and Codi's blushy artwork 💕💜

DISCLAIMER: This story contains diaper usage, public humiliation, masturbation/diaper sex, WAM, hypermessing, hypnosis, diaper filling, slime transformation, and other ABDL themes. I hope you enjoy!

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Codi’s Diary: Entry 141 (Cont.)

As you may have guessed, my exploration into all things diapers didn’t stop with preventing leaks. I previously mentioned that humans were the horniest species I’d come across. Turns out, that mentality can be quite infectious. After overhearing a couple detailing their upcoming bedroom plans while they perused a diaper store I frequented, I got curious about whether or not I could get the same satisfaction out of diapers that they seemed to have.

For nearly an entire month, I read everything I could get my hands on about the female sex. Unlike how I usually copied the forms of whatever I was transforming into, I got down to the nitty-gritty, gathering a full understanding of how my new, feminine slit both looked and functioned. When I finally felt ready to test drive my fully-formed vagina, the experience was as mindblowing as I had hoped it would be. It was like every inch of my body had taken on that feeling you get on your tongue when licking the negative end of a battery. No wonder humans were constantly thinking about sex. Nothing in the entire cosmos could rival that feeling. Unfortunately, by the time my first masturbation session was complete, my goo was all over the place as I reverted to my original goo-like form.

From that point onward, I made a point to maintain my genitalia. It took a considerable amount of effort but eventually, it became as natural to form a functional vagina as it was for the rest of my human form. The downside this posed was that I was almost constantly horny because of this, made worse by the fact that I was still nowhere confident enough to act on my impulses when it came to the idea of having sex with someone. So, for the time being, I stuck to learning everything she could about self-love, hoping that someday, I’d be able to break out of my sexual shell so to speak…

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*bzzzzzzzzzzzzzz*

Meeting new people had never been easy for Codi. Between bouncing around from place to place and her general social anxiety, she’d grown used to that fact. However, on the rare occasion of being introduced to someone, it would help if there wasn’t a VIBRATOR HUMMING AWAY IN HER DIAPER! It was practically impossible to pay attention to what anyone was saying. All she could do was smile, nod along, and shoot Crissie a withering glare every twenty seconds or so.

“And so, long story short, Master and I stopped Hector and reset the timeline. That’s why you don’t remember anything,” said Jane, bringing her summary of the Dreamcaster incident to a fitting conclusion, “But Crissie remembers, isn’t that right?”

Snickering, Crissie nodded her head enthusiastically, saying, “Oh, yeah! I remember everything, including the part where we walked in on Miwth Webe-”

Crissie’s words were cut short as Jane rushed over and put her hands over Crissie’s mouth. “OH, she doesn’t need to hear…that part,” said Jane, her nervous laughter giving her anxiety away.

“What an…interesting story,” said Rebecca, smiling as any adult would at a fantastical tale told by a toddler. She got up from her seat and walked over to where Jane was standing, placing her arms around her and pulling her into her bosom for a big hug, “Ya know, with all that creativity, you should really try writing some blushy stories of your own.”

Whipping her head toward Crissie, Jane mouthed the words, “Don’t you dare,” hoping that the serious look on her face was enough to keep Crissie’s mouth shut about her secret diaper writings. Unfortunately, she could already see the horns growing atop Crissie’s head. She needed to get Rebecca out of here and fast. “U-Um, Miss Rebecca, can we go back to your office for that diaper change you promised?” she asked, aiming to cut this meet and greet short.

“Oh, sweetie, there’s no need to be so shy. I can see from your friends’ attire that they’re probably used to seeing a cutie like you get her diaper changed,” said Rebecca, sweeping Jane off of her feet and cradling the bashful Little in her arms, “I’ve got a great idea. Crissie, would you like to give me a hand?”

Looking back and forth between Crissie and Rebecca, Jane was already starting to regret bringing these two together. It was as if they were gorging themselves off each other's chaotically horny energies. “W-Wait, I didn’t agree to-MMMF!” she said, cut off by the bulb of a pacifier being inserted into her mouth.

“Hush deary, the grown-ups are talking,” said Rebecca, causing Jane to swoon. After months of easing herself into the wonderful world of ABDL, she knew exactly how to handle Littles like Jane. Moving to where Jane’s patient lounge chair was stationed, she laid Jane down across the comfy seat before lowering the diaper bag from her shoulder and eagerly getting to work.

As Rebecca and Jane were occupied setting up an impromptu diaper change, Crissie took the moment to rotate behind Jane’s desk where Codi was still seated. She stifled a chuckle, able to make out the faint buzzing sound coming out of Codi’s diaper. “You’re looking a little flushed, CodiBaby. Everything okay?” she asked sarcastically, “I could always ask Miss Rebecca to come over here and check your temperature. Rectally, of course.”

Feeling spiteful thanks to Crissie’s ceaseless taunts, Codi bit her tongue and refused to give the brat the attention she clearly wanted. It was bad enough to be this horny in front of two people she’d never met before. The teasing was just unnecessary at this point.

“The silent treatment, huh? Fine then, two can play at that game,” said Crissie, folding her arms and mimicking Codi’s facial expression. This amused her for about ten seconds before her leg began to bounce. She looked around the room, feeling her childish mind becoming bored with the quiet game. In total, she didn’t even last a full minute before breaking her silence, “You could always dare me to do something, ya know? Don’t you want to get even with me?”

Holding herself back from cracking a smile, Codi knew that what she was doing now was more devastating to Crissie than any embarrassing dare that she could formulate in her head. 

“Crissie! Codi!” shouted Rebecca in a sing-songy tone, “Baby Jane is ready for changies!”

By this point, Crissie’s leg was shaking harder than most earthquakes. She looked back and forth frantically between Jane’s changing area and Codi’s stoic expression, knowing that she’d be giving Codi a spiritual victory if she walked away now. Sadly, her compulsive need for excitement eventually won out over her resolve, “Ugh! Fine, you can just sit here and be Little Miss Boring Pants while I go have fun with Rebecca and Jane!”

If Codi’s mind were connected to a loudspeaker, Jane’s office would be filled with maniacal laughter. It didn’t matter that she was verging dangerously close to an orgasm. Watching Crissie stomp away in defeat made it all worth it.

Kneeling down next to Rebecca, Crissie’s eyes lit up as she watched the freshman caretaker peel back the tapes of Jane’s incredibly soggy diaper. It took all of the restraint she had to resist pressing her hand into the tantalizingly squishy padding. “Dang, Jane! You really put your pamps to good use,” she said, giggling as Jane hid her crimson cheeks behind her hands.

As Rebecca scooted the used diaper out from under Jane’s booty, Crissie was quick to fold it up and tape it shut, holding the finished product up like a football for Jane to see. “See how yellow and mooshy it is? What a proud bab you must be,” she teased before setting the tightly-wrapped present down and returning to Rebecca’s side.

“Y-You're the one who likes being taped into a soggy diaper all day,” exclaimed Jane, attempting to shift the blushy attention from herself to Crissie. Her efforts were fruitless, though, as she was far too squirmy to pull off sounding intimidating. As mortifying as it was to have both Mommy Sarah and Miss Rebecca standing over her during a change, it was somehow even worse when another Little got involved. Especially a bratty, teasing Little like Crissie. Her kitten burned with sexual frustration as she held back grinding her hips against Rebecca’s hand, which was thoroughly wiping around her lower lips.

Meanwhile, Jane wasn’t the only one getting her rocks off. Looming in the background, Codi kept a close eye on Crissie and the others as she sank down in her seat and placed her hand on the most sensitive area of her diaper. Her arousal had become too much for her to bear and with the display that Jane was putting on, she could no longer resist the temptation to play with herself. So long as she stayed quiet and didn’t let Crissie find out, she had more than earned herself a period of private reflection.

Curling her hand around the front of her diaper, Codi nudged the vibrator so that it was nuzzled up against her clit. The moment the egg made direct contact with her kitten, she was forced to cover her mouth with her hand to prevent herself from letting out a satisfied moan. She’d never admit it but it felt so good to do something so naughty with three people a mere fifteen feet away from her. The idea that they might catch her masturbating at any time added an extra bit of spice to the eroticism of it all.

“Crissie, would you like to do the honors?” said Rebecca, handing the bottle of baby powder over to Crissie. The devious Little happily accepted the task as she proceeded to shower Jane’s pelvis in a flurry of talcum.

If they were already at the powdering stage of Jane’s change, Codi knew that her window to climax was closing quickly. “Fuck it,” she muttered to herself as she reached her hand inside her diaper, doing her best to keep it from crinkling too loudly. A shiver ran down her spine as her fingers brushed against her sopping slit. Using her middle and point fingers, she shoved the egg in between her vaginal lips while she circled her clitoris with her thumb, creating the perfect storm of pleasure. She closed her eyes and opened her mouth to let out a silent, lustful breath, feeling herself pass the point of no return.

“Whatcha doin'?”

Codi’s eyes shot open to find Crissie sitting across from her with her head in her hands as she leaned across the desk. The knowing, devilish smirk she had on was like a dagger right in the heart of Codi’s soul. Sadly, it was too late to turn back. Her body convulsed and quivered as she came right in front of Crissie, producing the tiniest of moans. 

“Daww, well aren’t you just the cutest thing? No matter how big you try to act, that’s all it ever is. An act,” said Crissie, savoring every second of Codi’s erotic expressions. Sitting up, she gestured over to where Rebecca and Jane were stationed, with Jane sitting in Rebecca’s lap, “She asked if either of us wanted a change as well. I’m still good for now but you could definitely use a fresh diapee after getting all squirty in that one.”

Recognizing that Crissie was about to sentence her to even greater humiliation, Codi knew she needed to act fast before the situation got worse. Glancing back over at Jane and Rebecca, she racked her brain trying to think up at least a half-decent dare to distract Crissie with. It didn’t have to be amazing, just time-consuming. That’s when a truly sinister plot entered her head. With no time to reconsider, she blurted out Crissie’s next dare, “I Double Diaper Dare you to go sit in Rebecca’s lap and mess yourself while you exclaim how horny pooping your diaper makes you.”

Crissie’s reaction was instantaneous as the boastful expression quickly faded into one of anxiety. Would Rebecca even be okay with her doing that? She followed Codi’s eyes over to Rebecca and Jane, realizing that in order to complete her dare, she was going to have to cross some personal boundaries.

TO BE CONTINUED…

« PREVIOUS l FIRST l NEXT »

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Edited by AllySmolShork

[abigail-nicole]

tgcf liveread 7

continuing porting my liveread of Pure Light And Joy In Novel Form, Heaven Official's Blessing, Tian Guan Ci Fu, from the dying twitter to the optimistically-not-dead tumblr. please support official translations of TGCF, the best novel, and maybe someday we'll get to see the COMPLETED, FILMED, EDITED LIVE ACTION if the chinese government ever quits being ragingly homophobic. enjoy season one of the donghua in the meantime and do read the original text!

originally tweeted on 3/31/2020:

I unabashedly love Xie Lian’s thrifty grandma personality & also the casual “wanna come to my ghost palace instead of always staying at your one-room apartment with three other people also living here which I never complain about even though I own a fjking palace”

I have Great Fondness for the ghosts in Ghost City being overly protective of Hua Cheng & Xie Lian (even if it is just to try to curry favor)

hahahaha oh my god this scene of sexytimes on an altar on top of poetry about Longing....

I’m. VERY PUMPED ABOUT SEEING MOUNT TONG’LU

tomorrow. i guess ill be responsible & start CHAPTER 128 TOMORROW THANKS EVERYBODY THIS IS THE ONLY THING BRINGING ME JOY AS I WORK THRU THIS PANDEMIC

yall Lang Ying THOUGHT HUA CHENG LIVED WITH THEM im dying....

He didnt think he could hide his feelings HE DIDNT THINK HE COULD HIDE HIS FEELINGS HEAAAAAAAAA

He’s really going straight WE USED TO SLEEP IN THIS BED TOGETHER level melancholy oh my god

This is a little nightmare story, the kind at which MXTX excels

Oh my god hes the crown prince of PINING AWAY TO NOTHING

okay mxtx it is Not At All Obvious that Hua Cheng is this Lang Ying & this gratituitious bathing scene is.... amazing omg

more like dianxia babysitter of errant dieties

-shi qingxuan

-quan yizhen

-qi rong

Heavenly Babysitter Dianxia confirmed with DONT PUT THAT IN YOUR MOUTH and DONT SET THAT ON FIRE

Think of the donghua playing with this scene of attacking empty clothes

his whole “this is the robe! no THIS is the robe! just kidding it was never here! now ive trapped you!” feels a little Princess Bride iocane powder reasoning

the boyfriends being Soft sustains me

hahahahahahaha god xie lian’s cooking is so amazingly terrible how is this book so great in its most domestic scenes

OUR BOY SNAPPED

bitches destroy Puqi Shrine gotta contend with the Flower Crown Martial Prince

hahahaha hua cheng really had to turn into a child for Flimsy Plot Reasons didn’t he

this Ghost Inn scene is pure chaos and slapstick & detail & action, and this is the cherry on top of the elaborately-crafted layers of this cake of a scene

Im sad about ling wen???? I love her???? She’s the most competent character in this book sorry hua cheng

“He might spit in the water of someone he doesn’t like....or put laxatives....but not poison...” Lolololol

Let’s pause mid-investigation so we can appreciate hualian holding hands

fetuses don’t have teeth......LIES EXPOSED

fetus eyes also don’t yoke together in utero this is a real medical fact unrelated to the fetus ghost in tgcf

ah yes, sitting in the window in the glowing, luminious moonlight, with your weapon-pet-scarf, an excellent time for a heart to heart confessional with your beloved

this is on level with Single Plank Bridge as a life philosophy / love confessional

so many important scenes happen over a table here. Jun Wu + Xie Lian + Hua Cheng taking tea without dissembling is A Mood

“Sometimes three with a single move” Lololol I Love Him

This adorable little exchange where they just talk about how much they belong to each other

Let’s stop here a second, pause the film on Puppet Master boyfriends, and do a bit of Plot Dissection:

-Jun Wu has sent Xie Lian to Mt TongLu to...become the next Ghost King

-Hua Cheng, the most recent Ghost King, is with him

-don’t you have to kill all the other ghosts to win

Let’s also stop & think about our Magical Girl Dianxia becoming A Ghost King:

I have no idea how this plot is gonna turn out but it’s always fun & fruitful to examine your thoughts & expectations the first time through something & wonder why you want or fear a certain outcome

Hua Cheng would be devastated if Xie Lian became a fierce ghost king capable of murdering millions. In fact it’s so antithetical to everything he is that, at that point, Xie Lian wouldn’t be the same person anymore.

(contrast this to wwx & lwj, both of whom have proven themselves capable of Big War Murder when pushed hard enough)

he contrast of soft sideplot of boyfriends being The Most Obviously In Love But Afraid To Say It and the extremely harsh main plot of What The Fuck, Did God Just Send Xie Lian Into A Literal Torture Volcano With Like, Real High Stakes

... but also does anyone else wanna see ghost king boyfriends

these gays obviously

but this plot, lighthearted flirting aside, is going to a real dark place??? & i see the end of book 3 coming with xie lian in a real bad cliffhanger of a situation for me to sit through while reading another painful flashback

Lolololol more fuckin on the altar i guess

The General Who Broke His Sword !!!!

let’s take a roll call:

(check) the general who broke his sword

(check) the prince who pleased the gods

[ ] the princess who slit her own throat

(check) the young lord who poured wine

OKAY BRING OUT THE REST IM READY!

continue Mt Tong'lu next time on TGCF Liveread livetweets part 8 or whatever part is next!

[hysterialevi]

His Name Was Isaac - Final Chapter

Fanfic summary: During a mission to avenge his mother’s death, Isaac hunts down the men responsible for her murder and kills them off one-by-one, only to discover that his last target is taking refuge among the Van der Linde gang. In an attempt to kill them, Isaac attacks the gang and unknowingly becomes enemies with his own father, who is in the process of fighting his own battle for redemption.

Point of view: third-person

Author’s note: Holy hell I can’t believe it’s already over. Even though this fanfic wasn’t as long as some of my other ones, I still really enjoyed writing it for you guys, and I wanted to say thanks to those of you who stuck around this long. I hope you enjoy this last chapter, and I hope you’ll be there for other stories too :)

Previous chapter

This story is also on AO3

THE NEXT MORNING

MOUNT HAGEN

Emptiness. Silence. Isolation.

These were the new foundations of the world.

As the lonely breeze howled loudly in the wind, and the pale sun climbed higher in the never-ending sky, Isaac remained seated in the sea of snow, devoid of any hope that once lived inside him.

He was alone. 

Just like before.

After fifteen years of battling with his grief and growing up with an insatiable sense of hatred, history had repeated itself all over again. 

Only this time... Isaac didn’t care.

He couldn’t find a reason to.

Without Arthur at his side, or Eliza to help guide him, the boy felt completely lost. He felt like the world was swallowing him whole, and the longer he stared aimlessly at the distant horizon, the more he wondered if there was any point in reaching the border.

How did he know that wouldn’t experience the same kind of pain in Canada? What guarantee did he have that the people he met in the future wouldn’t simply disappear like everyone else had?

The last thing Isaac wanted to do was abandon his father’s final wish... but he didn’t know if he had the strength to continue anymore.

He had already fought for so long, and yet, the end of the road didn’t appear to be any closer.

Forcing himself up from the cold ground, Isaac steadily rose to his feet and patted some snow off his coat before continuing to trudge across the unforgiving terrain, feeling more and more exhausted with every step.

He hadn’t slept ever since Arthur died, and with the amount of people hunting him down in these mountains, Isaac didn’t dare lower his gun for a moment.

Agent Fordham may have been kind enough to let him go, but even then, Isaac knew he was far from safe. He still had Dutch and Micah to worry about, and top of that, there was also the fact that Agent Ross had probably figured out by now that Isaac was still alive.

He was going to have to reach the border as soon as possible, and without any mistakes.

Slowly making his way up a steep hill, Isaac clutched his rifle close to his chest and examined the area ahead of him, keeping an eye out for any possible threats.

There was a small group of shacks sitting atop the hill -- all of which seemed abandoned -- but the young man noticed a fresh trail of footprints leading up to one of them. It looked like someone had passed through here recently, and judging by the dying campfire that was gradually withering away outside, Isaac assumed they were still nearby.

He cocked his firearm, prepared to shoot anything that moved.

Part of Isaac simply wanted to leave the cabins alone and carry on, but with the level of fatigue that was currently overtaking his body, the boy knew he needed to rest lest he collapse somewhere in the wilderness.

Gently pushing the cabin’s door open, Isaac carefully stepped inside and observed his surroundings, trying to stay as quiet as possible.

So far, the only thing to greet the young man was a lifeless room filled with nothing but a dead fireplace, and a collection of cracked windows. There were visible specks of dust floating in the sunbeams that seeped through the glass, and on the wall opposite to him, Isaac spotted another door.

It didn’t seem like anyone was home at the moment, so he continued to settle in.

Just before Isaac could take another step however, a bullet came flying through one of the windows and zipped mere centimeters past his ear, causing him to jump backwards.

He immediately slammed the front door shut and took cover, hiding behind a nearby wall.

Isaac didn’t even have a chance to see his attacker’s face before they attempted to shoot him, but just based on the muffled voice he heard talking to him afterwards, the young man knew exactly who it was.

“Well, would you look at that...” his assailant said from outside. “Here I am searchin’ high and low through these goddamn mountains -- freezin’ my ass off just to find you -- and you show up right on my doorstep. Now ain’t that a surprise?”

Isaac peeked through the window’s dusty glass, keeping an eye on the other man as he approached the cabin.

“Fuck off, Micah.” He replied. “I ain’t doin’ this with you. Not now.”

Micah laughed at that. “Why not? Lost your nerve now that daddy ain’t here to protect you? I thought you was a tough boy.” He glanced around for a bit, shrugging in curiosity. “Speakin’ of which, where is the old man? I figured he’d be wanderin’ around here with you. Hard for me to imagine the two of you splittin’ up. Somethin’ happen to him...?”

Isaac clenched his jaw in anger. “...You know damn well what happened. You caused it. Agent Ross found us ‘cause of you.”

The outlaw sighed melodramatically. “Ah, so them government boys got him in the end. Tragic. Arthur always struck me as the type who woulda fancied himself dyin’ in a more heroic fashion. Like in the fairytales. Guess he weren’t so big and bad, after all.”

Isaac subtly reached for his knife, preparing to attack Micah once he got near the door.

“He was still strong enough to beat you.”

Micah grinned in response. “Hmm, well... I just hope the same can be said for you. You’re a strong kid, Isaac. But you’re in for a rude awakenin’ once Dutch gets here. He won’t let you leave these mountains alive...” The man took out his weapon, preparing to strike. “And neither will I.”

Leaping out from cover, Isaac bolted to the front door and slammed it open right before Micah could barge in, bashing the other man in the face as he tumbled to the ground.

Meanwhile, Isaac took advantage of the opening and yanked his knife out, slicing it downwards as he tried to aim for the man’s throat. Just before he could press the knife into his skin however, Micah reached up and grabbed Isaac’s wrists in resistance, pushing back as the two of them wrestled for power.

“Fiery little shit, ain’t you?” Micah growled through bloodied teeth. “You can fight me all you want, boy... but that won’t bring your daddy back. He’s long gone, I’m afraid...!”

Isaac felt a familiar sense of hatred growing inside him again, motivating him to push down even harder.

“You shut your goddamn mouth, Micah!”

The older man chuckled deviously. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did I strike a nerve? Heh. You’s your daddy’s son, alright. All emotion and no brains. It’s no wonder he’s dead now, just like that whore of a mother you had.”

Isaac let out a strained groan, fervently trying to force the blade into Micah’s neck as his arms began to quiver.

“You ain’t nothin’ but a worthless snake, Micah...! And I’m gonna make sure you die like one.”

Micah’s grin grew even wider at that. “Ah, now that’s the Isaac I know. You strut around pretendin’ to be a better man than the rest of us, but really, you’re just another killer deep down, ain’t you, princess? Same as Shay. Well, c’mon then. Show me what you got...!”

Mustering all the strength in his body, Micah easily shoved Isaac’s lean frame off of him and kicked the boy in the gut, causing him to reel back. In the meantime, Micah got up from the ground and took his own hunting knife out, slashing the weapon wildly at Isaac.

“There’s winners, and losers!” He shouted, stepping forward as the boy dodged his attacks. “Nothin’ else besides.”

Ducking under one of Micah’s swings, Isaac barely missed the edge of his blade and prepared to strike him with a counterattack, only to receive a gash to the cheek when the other man followed up with a second slice.

Stumbling backwards, Isaac watched as a few droplets of blood trickled from his face and onto the white snow beneath him, spreading in a manner similar to an ink blot.

He was already feeling worn out from trying to keep up with Micah’s vicious speed, but for the sake of making sure his father wouldn’t die in vain, Isaac refused to give up. 

He brought his attention back to the outlaw, gripping the hilt of his knife even tighter than before.

“You’re wrong about my father. He did die as a hero. He died protectin’ me...” Isaac held the blade in front of him, making sure that Micah wouldn’t come close. “...But you? You’re gonna die as a rat. A traitor. Your corpse’ll become nothin’ but food for the vultures, and ain’t no one gonna give a shit about you.”

Micah smirked at the statement. “Oh, we’re all gonna die someday, cowboy. But at least my pockets will be heavier when that time comes.”

Leaping at each other, the two of them engaged in one last fight to the death as the snow danced wildly around them, coating everything behind a layer of ice. The sun was barely breaking through the clouds now, and as more time went on, Isaac could feel the weather hindering his movements more and more.

His limbs were becoming stiff in the cold, and his skin had nearly gone numb from the freezing wind that chewed through it. 

But despite all the obstacles he faced, Isaac remained adamant in his mission to kill Micah and persisted with the battle, determined to put him in the ground.

Throwing a punch at the older man, Isaac buried his knuckles in Micah’s jaw and stunned him for a moment, allowing him to turn the tide of the fight. He tackled the outlaw to the snow and pinned him down with his own weight, beating the man the same way Arthur once did.

Instead of trying to block Isaac’s attacks however, Micah resorted to a quicker solution and simply jabbed his knife into the boy’s leg, causing him to shout in agony as blood began to seep through his clothes.

Isaac frantically tried to think through the pain, but was swiftly interrupted when Micah hurled him off to the side and climbed on top of him, switching their positions.

He hurriedly yanked the blade out of Isaac’s leg and diverted it to his throat, but was stopped halfway when the boy pushed back in a desperate attempt to keep the knife from reaching his neck.

“You’re pathetic, Morgan...!” Micah snarled. “Sure, you’re real tough when it comes to killin’ fools, but against anyone else, you’re just a scared little boy tryin’ to survive in a man’s world.”

Isaac groaned in effort, grinding his teeth together as he clutched Micah’s wrists with an iron grip.

“You don’t know... the first thing about me...! I don’t wanna be a killer... but for you -- I’ll make an exception...!”

Using every bit of strength that he had left in him, Isaac forcibly pushed Micah further away from him and stretched his arms out, putting some distance between his neck and the blade.

He wanted to make sure he had enough space to roll out from underneath him before making his next move, but with a new wound now throbbing in his leg, Isaac couldn’t deny that he was feeling weaker and weaker by the minute.

Giving Micah another firm shove, the boy finally managed to get him at a reasonable distance and slid free from his grasp, moving out of the way just as the man’s knife impaled the ground.

Isaac scrambled across the snow and reached for his gun, whipping it straight out of the holster as the other man came charging at him.

He only had once chance to kill Micah before he’d be on top of him again, but in spite of the risks, Isaac decided it’d best to rely on his gun rather than his strength. He barely had any energy left in him, after all, and based how much blood he was losing, the boy wasn’t sure if he could keep this up for much longer.

He aimed the barrel directly at Micah’s head, getting ready to shoot the man.

Bang.

A single gunshot thundered throughout the entire region.

Micah’s body came to a halt, and his eyes widened in pure shock.

There was a deathly gap in the fast rhythm of his breath, and within a few moments, the man’s face had been drained of all life. 

What confused Isaac however, was that he had yet to pull the trigger.

Collapsing to the ground, Micah toppled over into the snow and landed on his side, revealing a third person standing behind him.

He remained paralyzed on the ground and simply lay there in bewilderment, glancing upwards at the man who just put a bullet in his back.

“...Dutch...” Micah wheezed, glaring fearfully at him. “You... shot me...”

The other man stepped next to his fallen comrade, solemnly looking down at him as a trail of smoke rose from his revolver.

“...Not soon enough, I’m afraid.”

Watching as Micah drew his final breath, Dutch stood above him in silence and simply towered over the man, finally witnessing the revenge he had thirsted for for so long.

He had known for a while now that there was a traitor within the gang, but he never had his suspicions confirmed until he read Bill’s goodbye letter.

The drunken fool had been kind enough to leave a note before he took off, and Dutch knew that if he wanted to catch Micah by surprise, he’d have to keep the warning a secret.

So, time after time, he pretended to be oblivious to the snake’s deeds and blindly went along with his plans, only to find him wrestling with the son of the very man he wished he had never pushed away to begin with.

It was a step closer to finding his redemption, he thought... and yet, Dutch felt as if he had taken two steps back. 

That was the price of vengeance he supposed. But he no longer cared.

Pushing his thoughts aside for the moment, Dutch suddenly remembered that he still had Isaac to deal with and brought his attention back to the boy, aiming the gun at him.

It looked like Micah had already injured him quite a bit during their fight, but even then, Dutch knew better than to let his guard down.

He carefully approached the young man, making sure to keep him in place.

“...Arthur’s not with you?” He noted. 

Isaac remained seated in the snow, shaking his head.

“...No.” He answered quietly. “He’s... he’s dead.”

Dutch’s expression sank with worry.

“...Dead?” He asked, mortified. “How? What happened?”

The young man slowly rose to his feet, careful not to alert Dutch.

“The Pinkertons cornered us just outside of Lake Isabella. Ross ended up shootin’ him. I...” Isaac’s tone softened with regret, “...I couldn’t save him.”

Dutch steadily lowered his gun in disbelief and gazed aimlessly at the view beyond the horizon, furrowing his brow in anguish.

He couldn’t believe it.

Just when he started to right the wrongs of his past, and regain some of the integrity he passed onto others... the most important person in his life had been taken away.

He treated Arthur like a complete stranger the last time he saw him, and to make matters worse, he never even had the chance to say goodbye.

All Dutch had left of the man was a broken collection of memories, and an abandoned journal that was full of unfinished thoughts.

He brought his gaze back to Isaac, observing the boy’s striking resemblance to his father.

Perhaps... there was more of Arthur in him than Dutch originally thought. Maybe it was time to put his feelings about the young man in the past, and move on with his life.

He had nothing left to fight for, after all. His mission for vengeance was completed the minute Micah’s heart came to a stop, and with Arthur dead... there was no need to worry about confronting the man any longer.

The only thing Dutch could do for his late son now was take care of the one person who still survived him, and help him flourish in a world that was so willing to kill him.

He reached down and retrieved Arthur’s fallen hat from the ground, quietly traipsing over to the boy as he patted some snow off its rim.

“Y’know what, Isaac,” Dutch said with a cough, “...I wish I could’ve realized this sooner, but...” he handed the hat to Isaac, “...you’re the last person I want dead.”

The young man took the hat into his grasp, admittedly at a loss for words.

“I-- thank you, Dutch. I won’t lie. I didn’t expect this from you.”

The older man nodded in agreement. “Neither did I.”

Isaac placed the hat back on his head, suddenly recalling Arthur’s last request.

“Hey,” he said, holding Dutch back for a moment, “before you go... my father wanted me to tell you somethin’ in case I ever saw you again. He said he never hated you, despite everything that happened. And he’s sorry he wasn’t there when you needed him.”

“He... said that?” The man sighed in heartache. “Oh, Arthur...”

Evidently grief-stricken by the message, Dutch turned away from Isaac and bit his bottom lip, attempting to hide the tears that threatened to spill. One of his biggest fears ever since learning of Micah’s betrayal was that he’d never be able to gain Arthur’s forgiveness, and yet... it was clear that he had misjudged the man once again.

Dutch let out a shaky breath, still gazing at the ground.

“Thank you... for lettin’ me know, son. I... I appreciate it.”

Isaac shared Dutch’s mournful mood. “I just wish my father could’ve been here to tell him yourself.”

Dutch nodded at that. “Me too, Isaac. Me too.”

The older man turned around and began making his way off the mountain, eager to put some distance between him and Mount Hagen.

“...I have to go now, son. You’ve... certainly given me much to think about, and I won’t forget it. But I need to handle it on my own.”

The boy stayed back, not wanting to disturb Dutch any further. 

“I understand.”

“Take care of yourself. This world weren’t built for the likes of us, but you still have a chance. As for me... well, my time has passed. And I’m afraid that’s just the way it is.”

Venturing deeper into the cold, barren landscape, Dutch took his leave from the grisly scene and began descending Mount Hagen’s steep terrain, disappearing further and further into the snow.

He wasn’t sure if he’d ever recover from the events that transpired here -- what with news of Arthur’s death -- but he knew it was time to move on.

This chapter of madness and insanity had finally been closed now that Micah was gone, and even though Dutch had no certainty of what the future held, he had no intentions of lingering in the past either.

It had caused him enough pain. And now, he was ready to heal.

Trudging down the mountain, Dutch vanished in the distance like a phantom in the wind as the snowstorm began to pick up, completely obscuring his path. He didn’t know where he was going, or where this road would lead him, but he continued with his journey regardless.

Meanwhile, Isaac stayed behind and watched as the other man took his leave, suddenly feeling a strange sense of contentment within him.

He still had a long way to go in terms of recovery, but the boy felt like he was finally ready to accept reality.

Arthur was dead. 

Eliza was dead. 

And there was no way he could bring them back.

The world had taken them prematurely from Isaac’s life... and yet, he was fully aware that it’d be impossible to rectify that.

There wasn’t a single man he could kill, or a god he could pray to that would restore everything he’d lost.

He no longer had anything left to lose... and that was why he could finally start over.

Slipping his gun back into its holster, Isaac took one last glance at Micah’s corpse before removing himself from Mount Hagen’s vicinity, allowing the other man to freeze in the snow.

Even though part of him was disappointed that he didn’t get the chance to kill Micah, the young man couldn’t deny that he was also relieved. He had seen for himself just how much hatred could consume a man, and considering everything that happened these past couple of weeks, Isaac didn’t know if he’d be willing to walk down the path of vengeance again.

It nearly destroyed him, not too long ago. He killed Shay’s entire gang without a single hint of hesitation or a second thought, and at one point, he might’ve even enjoyed it.

But now... Isaac could see that Arthur was right.

As tempting as revenge could be, it wasn’t worth the sacrifice. 

His humanity, his compassion, his care for others -- those were the things that kept him going. And those were the things he wanted to keep alive.

He had spent long enough wandering through this world as a killer, and now, he was ready to embrace forgiveness.

It was a difficult thing to accept, but for the sake of moving on with his life, and carrying out Arthur’s final wish, Isaac knew he had to put down the gun.

It was the only way he could allow himself to recover now, and the only thing that would permit him to seek redemption.

He had finally reached the end of the road, and freedom was waiting for him on the other side.

~~~~~~~~~~

ONE WEEK LATER

EVENING

ELIZA’S CABIN

Standing quietly in front of the lifeless house, Isaac found himself overwhelmed by the empty silence as he clutched a bundle of flowers in his grasp, wondering if he even had the strength to see his parents’ graves again.

After he left Mount Hagen, the boy traveled back to Colter against his better judgement and brought Arthur’s body here, burying him alongside Eliza.

It was probably foolish of him to remain in the United States for so long with all the people searching for him, but in spite of the danger, Isaac didn’t have the heart to leave them behind.

They were both gone from this world -- that was true -- but that didn’t mean he couldn’t ensure they had the opportunity to rest in peace.

Giving Aldo a quick pat on the neck, Isaac signaled the horse to stay behind as he approached the abandoned cabin, fiddling with his hands in nervousness.

It had been ages since he last saw this house, and just by gazing at its boarded-up windows, he could already feel an influx of memories flooding his head.

From the days he’d spend playing in the fields with Arthur, to the times he spent listening to Eliza’s singing... there wasn’t a single moment that he couldn’t remember.

Everything about this place screamed nostalgia to him, and part of Isaac wished he could stay forever.

Walking up to Arthur’s and Eliza’s graves, Isaac took a deep breath before kneeling down in front of them, trying to keep his composure.

He had given his father the same kind of cross that stood above his mother, and on the wooden planks read a small passage: 

“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness.”

It probably wasn’t the kind of message Arthur expected to be marked with when he was gone from this world, but Isaac felt it fit the man more than he may have realized. 

He knew his father always saw himself as somebody who only ever did wrong, but in Isaac’s eyes, the man was a hero. He abandoned his past as an outlaw, and sacrificed everything he knew to keep his son safe. His last moments were spent ensuring that Isaac had a chance to survive, and the boy wasn’t about to forget that.

Placing the flowers next to the crosses, Isaac gazed longingly at the names that had been carved into their surface, wishing they could be there with him.

He didn’t know exactly what to say, or if anything needed to be said at all, but simply by looking at their graves, he already felt as if his parents were standing in front of him again.

It was as if their ghosts still remained in this place, and the longer Isaac stared at the cabin standing behind them, the more he felt compelled to say something in return.

“Yeah, I know...” Isaac said affectionately, “I’m still here, Dad. I promise I’ll be on my way to Canada soon, but... I wanted to say goodbye first. I never had the chance to thank you properly for everything you did, and well... I just hope you know that I always cared for you.”

He turned to Eliza’s grave. “And Ma... I’m sorry for everything that happened. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you from Shay and his men, and I’m sorry that I became blinded by my hatred for so long. I know neither of you would’ve wanted me to go down that path, and I wish I could’ve realized that sooner.”

He paused for a moment, nodding in reassurance. “But I’ll do my best to be a better man from now on. I’m gonna try to help people instead of hurtin’ them, and I won’t pick up my gun again unless I have to. It’ll feel strange takin’ on such a new life, but... it’s one I’m ready to adapt.”

Isaac stood up from the ground, glancing over his shoulder at Aldo.

“...I’ve gotta go now. You know how persistent them Pinkertons can be, and I think I’ve already spent enough time lingering around here. But I’ll come visit you as much as I can. I promise.”

Walking away from the graves, Isaac slowly returned to his horse as the sun finally began to set beneath the tree line, painting the sky a striking orange color. For as far as the eye could see, nothing but vast meadows stretched out for miles into the distance, and anything that stood on the horizon was blackened into a stark silhouette.

It was like a small paradise out here, Isaac thought. The nature in this area had been left untouched by civilization’s progress, and due to its secluded location, no other souls roamed around here except for his own two parents.

It was the one place Isaac could find peace... and he had to leave it behind for now.

Climbing back onto Aldo’s addle, the young man readied himself for the journey ahead and spared a few moments to take one final look at the cabin, admittedly reluctant to separate himself from it.

It felt nice to be somewhere familiar again, but Isaac knew he couldn’t stay here forever. There was an entirely new life waiting for him beyond the border, and this was his last chance to seize it.

So, with one last goodbye, Isaac bid farewell to the place he once called home and lightly kicked his spurs into Aldo’s sides, urging the horse to begin trotting away from the scene.

He didn’t know when he’d return to the cabin again, but one thing was for sure. He had finally found the closure he needed.

Shay, Arthur, Eliza, Dutch, Micah... they were all ghosts in the wind now. There was nothing left to hold Isaac back from his future, and now, he could focus on becoming a new man.

It was the reward he received for having fought for so long. The one thing that everyone else in his life constantly died for.

The only treasure that no amount of money could buy.

Redemption.

~~~~~~~~~~

FOUR YEARS LATER

1911

SOMEWHERE IN NEW AUSTIN

Hopping off his mount, John Marston approached the makeshift clinic standing in front of him as he carefully searched the area, admittedly skeptical of how much information he would receive from this visit.

According to the locals, there was a rather eccentric doctor who had been seen traveling around these parts... but he wasn’t anything like the ones that worked in the hospitals.

For starters, he was an outlaw. He hadn’t committed any crimes in recent years except for evading the Pinkertons’ grasp, but the idea of a criminal doctor was still strange to John. And on top of that, the man apparently had some crucial information regarding the locations of Bill Williamson and Dutch van der Linde.

He didn’t know why the hell Dutch or Bill would’ve been in contact with a man such as this one, but John supposed he was about to find out.

Making his way up the clinic’s wooden stairs, John opened the front door and prepared to let himself in, only to be interrupted when he found the barrel of a shotgun staring back at him.

He couldn’t quite see the face of the person holding it just yet due to the darkness inside, but John assumed it was the doctor he had heard so much about.

He raised his hands in the air, backing away slowly.

“Whoa, now...” Marston said, attempting to defuse the situation, “easy, mister. I mean you no harm.”

The doctor chuckled at that. “Them’s some funny words comin’ from a man with as many guns as you. You think I haven’t heard that one before? Who are you? You with the law?”

John hesitated to answer. “Well, I am workin’ with the government, but I ain’t here to take nobody in. I’m just here to see a doctor. I assume that’s you?”

The other man didn’t trust him just yet. “Depends on what you need. You sick? Dying? Both?”

Marston shook his head. “No, nothin’ like that. I’m just lookin’ for information. I need to find two outlaws named Bill Williamson and Dutch van der Linde, and I’ve been told that you’re the person to talk to.”

The doctor fell silent at that, clearly surprised to hear those names again.

“...Why d’you wanna find them?”

John sighed in discontent. The truth was, he didn’t want to find them. Not after all the conflict that ensued between them. But he had no choice.

“I have to.” He settled with. “For the sake of my family. For my wife, and son. Their safety depends on it.”

The doctor didn’t quite understand what he meant by that, but figured it was best not to ask too many questions. This man was linked to the government, after all, and the last thing he needed was for them to come sniffing around his clinic.

“...I see. Well, in that case...”

Putting the shotgun away, the doctor finally opened the door and stepped out from the clinic’s shadows, revealing his full identity.

He was much younger than John expected, and had a striking resemblance to someone he once knew. His hair was short and blonde, his eyes were a mixture of blue and green, and a short beard outlined the edge of his jaw. 

As for his clothes, he didn’t seem to share the same fashion sense that others in the medical field had. He wore a black Rambler Jacket paired with a rather nice set of trousers, and adorned a bronze-colored vest along with a simple puff tie to top it off. The soles of his boots were worn and covered in dirt, and on his waist rested a charcoal gun belt.

But what really caught Marston’s attention... was the unmistakable hat that sat atop the doctor’s head. It seemed to be made out of leather, and had a familiar string of rope wrapped around its crown.

It appeared to be identical to the one Arthur once wore, and just based on how similar the doctor’s features looked to the man, John suddenly found himself wondering who on earth he had just run into.

The young man rested the shotgun on his shoulder, formally introducing himself.

“I’m Doctor Morgan. How can I help?”

[thedeaditeslayer]

Crash Palace Interview: Catching Up with Dana DeLorenzo.

This interview briefly brushes over Ash vs Evil Dead and Dana’s latest projects.

Even though it has been over two years since Ash vs Evil Dead has been on the air, fans still clamor for their favorite badass, Deadite slaying heroine, Kelly Maxwell. Dana DeLorenzo, the actress behind her is equally adored and cherished by admirers of the Sam Raimi legendary horror franchise.  

So, as always, I was thrilled to speak with her about life after Ash, her latest movie, the heartwarming holiday comedy, Friendsgiving and what she has on the horizon. Welcome to the Crash Palace Interview with Dana DeLorenzo…  

The Denouement of Ash vs Evil Dead Crash Palace: Thanks for speaking with me, Dana. It’s always a pleasure. Let’s talk about life after Ash vs Evil Dead. As you know, Lee Cronin is helming the latest installment in the Evil Dead franchise, Evil Dead Rise. Fans were hoping that the Ghostbeaters would be a part of that venture. While we know it is going in a different direction, do you think Kelly Maxwell could show up some time in the future?  

Dana DeLorenzo: One can dream, right? Let me take this moment, right off the bat to say something I say often because I mean it, and I can’t say it enough. People who know me know this is not fan service. I say it when I’m not doing interviews; I say it to my closest friends and my family on the regular.

I am so grateful to the fans of Ash vs Evil Dead and the Evil Dead franchise all over the world. They have truly been my Jiminy Crickets throughout this insane, bizarre year that is 2020. They have gotten me through so many of the toughest days, just by keeping the bloody love alive. With every year that passes, even though we haven’t filmed a season of the show for three years, it feels like it’s fresh because of the fans .

So, to all you Ghostbeaters out there: I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I hope I get to meet all of you someday. But I can’t convey enough how your passion and love of the show has gotten me through this 2020 roller coaster; thank you for keeping Kelly’s ass-kicking spirit alive! On that note, I have really missed the show, I’ve missed playing Kelly. I posted some things recently about Ash vs Evil Dead, photos I hadn’t looked at in a while. I miss it a lot. I like to keep hope alive that someday, somewhere, the Ghostbeaters will be reunited. Even just for a quick Ghostbeaters fist bump.

Is Kelly Maxwell going to show up in this film? No. I won’t say never, but from what I understand, this is an alternate universe for Evil Dead Rise, separate from Fede Alvarez’s movie with Jane Levy and it’s separate from Ash vs Evil Dead. It’s a new adventure in the Evil Dead universe. And I can’t wait to see the new blood and guts journey Lee Cronin takes us on. I would like to think in the Ghostbeaters’ universe, we’re still kicking it and we’re still fighting evil. But I am loving that the fans are clamoring for it! They can keep pestering Rob, Sam and Bruce the way they have for twenty-five years before Ash vs Evil Dead came to be — their persistence is what got me that dream job.

So, if they want to continue to pester to bring us all back, I won’t stop them! Because we know the fans have the power to persuade. It might take another twenty-five years. But I am always down to play with those guys and our great crew.  

CP: Do you keep in touch with anyone from the show?

DD: Yeah, I try and keep up with what everyone is doing and shoot them a message to tell them I miss them like the sap that I am. I just miss seeing their faces every day, you know?  I miss Lucy’s face pretty hard, and not just because she’s ‘Lucy Flawless’! She’s got new shows left and right, she never stops! Ray and I randomly text Pablo and Kelly’s catchphrases to each other. “How are you holding up? / What is happening?!” We said that pretty much every episode so it still makes me laugh. Arielle and I chat often even though she lives in Australia, she’s like my little sister! Bruce often responds “ in character” with the latest Snapchat filter. He loves those — just check his Twitter feed — and it’s all my fault. I showed him how to make them while filming Season 3. He could probably do a show solely with Snapchat characters — I’d watch.  

Fall from Perpetual Grace

CP: Let’s shift gears for a moment and talk about another series that you appeared on. You had a great run on EPIX with Perpetual Grace, LTD working with the talented Jimmi Simpson, Luis Guzman and of course, Jacki Weaver and Sir Ben Kingsley. There was some talk about a possible movie to tie up all the storylines after the show ended. Do you know if that is in the works?

DD: I have no idea, but I really hope that happens. Steven Conrad is a genius and so was that cast. If you haven’t seen or become a part of the cult following of Patriot on Amazon or Perpetual Grace, you should. But the people he casts and the stories he writes and the beauty of the cinematography, all  create a piece of art that is in its own category. He has such a strong point of view, aesthetic and vision, you always know when you’re watching a Steven Conrad show.

I’ve been very lucky to be part of two shows where both casts were like extended family. Like Luis Guzman. We  talked recently, I adore him. Side bar: I feel like in a crazy, crossover world, Luis could be Pablo’s other uncle because of his giant heart and comedic delivery. Anyway, we’re both working on my friend Joe Ahern’s indie comedy, The Disappearance of Toby Blackwood, which he co-wrote with Doug Mellard. And I can’t wait for people to see Luis slay the screen, yet again. The filming process is pretty innovative during COVID, where everyone but the two main characters filmed their parts at home using an app. These guys were doing it before anyone else, so kudos to them.  

Friendsgiving: The Gift that Keeps on Giving

CP: I had the pleasure of watching Friendsgiving the other night and it was an enjoyable holiday film. You had some hilarious bits as Kat Dennings’ wise cracking sister, Barbara. What drew you to the project?

DD: Thank you for watching the film and I’m so glad you enjoyed it! It’s the kind of original comedy we all need right now.

I knew I was auditioning for Kat Dennings’ (Abby)  sister Barbara, whose part of Abby’s Jersey-Italian family. Within the first two lines of that family exchange, I was cackling. I’m drawn to anything that grabs my attention on the page and holds it for the entire sitting of reading the script. Those lines of dialogue, the way the family members are unapologetically who they are, and the fact they mean well but are constantly giving you their two cents when you don’t want it or ask for it, hooked me. And that kind of art-imitating-life comedy held up for the rest of the script for me. Nicol Paone hit it out of the park, both on the page and behind the lens. And I’m pretty sure it’s loosely based on a Thanksgiving that Nicol and Malin Ackerman shared.

The subject matter was also relatable. I’ve celebrated Thanksgiving with my family as well as a couple of Friendsgivings. And the bottom line is, the holiday is just dysfunctional, always. It might be a lot more fun with your friends but it’s still going to be dysfunctional.

That concept makes me laugh. It’s not funny when you’re the one going through the stress and drama of Thanksgiving. However, it’s very funny watching someone else go through it. It’s cathartic. That’s why I loved it.  

CP: With so many talented actors in the cast, do you have any behind the scenes anecdotes?

DD: There was a lot of laughing in between takes. It’s always a good sign when the crew laughs. Abby’s (Kat Dennings ) Jersey-Italian family was cast perfectly, and the actors were so damn funny! Rose Abdoo plays our mom, Nadya Ginsburg as Aunt Anna and Johnny Williams plays Uncle Sal. Like I said, it was already funny on the page, and Nicol being a New Jersey Italian herself really captured the essence of those family conversations. The actors brought Nicol’s words to life, and on a few takes she let us riff.  In one scene the Aunt Anna character was telling the scripted story of a sexual gesture; I remember laughing so hard at her adlibbing additional euphemisms for that particular act by referencing Italian food.

One of my favorite things Nicol did was add some of the funniest ad-libs and bloopers in the end credits. I love seeing those! Now everyone who sees the film will get to see those behind the scenes moments.  

The Show Must Go On

CP: When we were coordinating this interview, you told me that you were going into the studio to do voiceover work. Can you give us a hint about this upcoming effort?

DD: The show features a cast of familiar faces that might have worked together recently. I just realized what everyone is probably going to think when they read this.  

CP: Sorry everyone, it isn’t Ash vs Evil Dead. However, you have more work on the way. According to IMDb, you have completed a short film called PCH. What else can your fans look forward to?

DD: The Disappearance of Toby Blackwood which I mentioned before but we’re still filming that. I am so excited about this voiceover project because it’s completely original in every way, it really hasn’t been done before. And of course, Friendsgiving is out now in select theatres and VOD. It’s the perfect film to watch this Thanksgiving when we can’t celebrate as we usually do. You can laugh at the characters’ holiday drama and maybe even be grateful to take this year off.  

CP: Will you be appearing at any virtual conventions like Bruce and Ted are doing for Wizard World events?

DD: There are a couple in the works. But in the meantime, I’ve teamed up with this new platform called, Real Talk Live, which is both an app and on the web. It’s like a virtual convention where you can live video chat one on one, basically like a Zoom call. You can schedule the video call in advance or whenever catch me whenever I’m live. I think it’s a great solution, and personally I’m really looking forward to connecting with Evil Dead fans this way until live events pick back up. And it’s accessible worldwide so this will be great to finally see the amazing fans I hear from overseas. I miss interacting with them in the flesh, hearing their stories and seeing their badass cosplays! And do I miss pose-punching them in our epic photos. So I end with this, because I can’t say this enough: “Thank you, Ghostbeaters! I love you more than Ash Williams loves his Delta!”  

Many thanks to Dana DeLorenzo for spending time with me at Crash Palace. For those of you that haven’t had the chance to catch Friendsgiving, it is available online by buying or renting it as a video-on-demand on iTunes, FandangoNow and VUDU.

[foryouandbits]

WIP - The Cold

So @bardofspades had a really good idea that since OMGCP as a comic will be finishing up in April, we should in some way post a WIP to get it out there and hopefully resurge our community a little bit.

I signed up for a reverse bang in early 2019 with the thought that I could not only write a fic based on someone’s art in a short amount of time, but I could do it with a newborn baby, AND I could do it for a ship I’ve never written before. What I learned from that was a) writing with a newborn is hard, b) writing a ship outside your comfort zone is hard, and c) I absolutely cannot write a fully-fledged fic from inception to posting on someone else’s timeline. 

I still feel guilty about having to drop out of this bang and I promised myself I would write this someday. That someday may still happen, but in the meantime, here is the introduction and 1.5K summary of a NurseyDex fic I never finished, where the frogs + Farmer are glaciologists studying the effects of climate change on glaciers in Antarctica. Hope you enjoy this peek into my writing process - every fic I’ve ever written starts with this type of summary that turns into the posted story you read. 

Skype Group Chat c.chow@washington.edu, c.farmerchow@washington.edu, w.poindexter@umaine.edu

C.Chow I hope you don't mind us messaging you like this. Your dean gave us your contact info.

C.Chow We read your paper on glacial decay in Antarctica (and LOVED it!) and wanted to know if you had already planned another trip to study irreversible decline?

W.Poindexter Thanks. I haven't planned another trip. My research partner moved to Arizona to study geology.

C.FarmerChow We proposed a research study of the same topic to our university and they're willing to send us for two weeks in early January, before classes start. If you could swing another trip by then, we'd love if you could accompany us.

C.Chow I'm Chris by the way. Dr. Chris Chow.

C.FarmerChow I'm Dr. Caitlin Chow. If you want to look me up, my research is under Caitlin Farmer.

W.Poindexter Let me guess. Just married?

C.FarmerChow A month now. They just updated my email.

W.Poindexter Congrats.

C.Chow Thanks!

W.Poindexter I haven't brought up the return to my university yet, but I know they'd support another project. This is interesting timing, though. I just got an email from someone else yesterday about the same thing.

C.FarmerChow Oh really? From who?

W.Poindexter Dr. Derek Nurse at Columbia. I haven't responded to him yet.

C.Chow I've heard of him! He's got a cool paper on ablation zones on some glaciers in Canada.

W.Poindexter Yeah I read it. It was interesting.

W. Poindexter Where are you guys thinking of going?

C.FarmerChow Taylor Glacier and Blood Falls, probably. I recently read that Taylor was classified as irreversible.

W.Poindexter Let me see if I can swing it.

W.Poindexter And if Dr. Nurse wants to go.

***

UNEDITED SUMMARY

General Story Summary: Chris and Caitlin Chow, recently married glaciologists at the University of Washington, read a paper authored by William Poindexter of the University of Maine on the study of healthy glaciers in Antarctica. The paper cites a desire to extend the research to unhealthy glaciers to determine the point of "irreversible decline." If successful, this research can be shared with others globally to truly determine our rate of glacial decay. After contacting Dr. Poindexter, they discover he has been in contact with another glaciologist at Columbia University in New York, a Dr. Derek Nurse, who is interested in the same topic. The four agree to go to Taylor Glacier near McMurdo Station in Antarctica.

They spend the first two-three days setting up their research tools but also decide to explore. Dex has been on this sort of expedition before but none of the others have, so he is their guide while hiking, kayaking, and skiing. He shows everyone the beauty of the continent but is very cautious, knowing how dangerous it is. This is their first encounter with the penguins, as they discover there is a colony living about a half a mile away from them down a slope near the shore.

Dex and Nursey immediately do not get along; Nursey doesn't listen and takes risks while exploring, which gets under Dex's skin because he knows how dangerous it is. In his previous expedition his fellow researcher fell through ice and they almost lost him -- not just under the ice, but from the resultant hypothermia -- and had to leave early to ensure his safety. This is why Dex wanted to come back, to finish the work they started, and also why Dex is alone, because his friend refused to come back and has since relocated from Maine to Arizona as he can no longer handle the cold. Dex does not tell this to Nursey until later - until this conversation, Nursey just assumes Dex is an uptight asshole.

Dex and Nursey argue a lot over the three days of exploration, argue about how to conduct their research. A few days into this, while they're drilling through ice, they have their second encounter with penguins. Nursey points them out and Dex looks over, and while they're watching the penguins being amusing, the ice underneath them cracks. Dex panics and screams and it looks like Nursey is going to fall through the ice, but Dex catches him at the last minute and his leg gets soaked but that's about it. They immediately return to camp - time is of the essence for Nursey's foot. He needs to remove his pants, dry his leg and change his clothes immediately, and warm it up. Every moment it's wet and exposed, they're in danger of losing it. After Nursey's pants come off and Dex dries off his foot, they have the conversation where it's revealed that Dex's friend nearly died. They have a civil conversation, with moments of heat as Dex tells Nursey it's not chill, he could have lost his foot [”We were 15 minutes from the camp! If this was winter, you'd have lost your leg.”], and Nursey says he can't think about potentially losing his foot. If he doesn't keep his cool he'll lose it completely and never get it back.

Dex and Nursey respect each other a lot more now after the incident. Nursey is more careful, Dex is more patient, and they grow together over the course of the next two weeks while they continue their experiments. On one of the nicer days near the end of their trip they're sitting outside eating lunch when a rogue penguin finds them and is staring at their food. No one knows much about penguins and what they eat or if they're aggressive, but the penguin is waddling forward. Chowder gives him food and Dex groans, "They're like seagulls, you know. Now we're going to have the entire fucking colony over here begging for food." To which Farmer says they're much cuter than seagulls, and Dex eventually agrees that yes they're much cuter than seagulls. The penguin is friendly after they feed it and it lets Nursey pet its little head; Nursey laughs and looks at Dex, who's smiling at him. The penguin, realizing there's no more food to be had, nips at Nursey and catches his finger. Nursey yelps and Dex makes him remove his glove; he has a cut but nothing serious. The penguin wanders away and Nursey and Dex go back inside so Dex can treat Nursey's cut. Dex cleans it and puts a band-aid on it, slightly worried about infection, but Nursey tells him to chill, and Dex rolls his eyes. They have a conversation about how cool it is that the penguin just walked right up to him and Dex says that Nursey looked adorable petting it and Nursey ribs him for the use of the word "adorable" so Dex says "I can't say sexy, you were petting a penguin!" and Nursey asks if Dex thinks he's sexy and Dex gets serious and says yes, and Nursey kisses him, and they go into their bunk and have sex. There's no privacy in their shelter; Chowder and Farmer know they're doing it and at one point when the door opens and they enter, Chowder is about to enter the room to ask how hard can it be to put on a bandaid when he realizes they're doing it and Farmer says "Christ, about time!"

After lunch they go back out to do more work and Dex is red from head to toe. Chowder and Farmer are chirping them about doing it; Nursey is chill but Dex is not but they catch eyes and Dex calms down. After a successful test they go back to the shelter, have dinner, and settle in for the night - Chowder and Farmer in one bunk, Dex and Nursey in the other. Dex and Nursey mutually attack each other (Charmer has done the same in their bunk) and then afterward they're snuggling and Nursey asks if Dex hooked up with his friend who fell in the ice. Dex says yeah of course, they were alone together for two weeks, of course they hooked up, and Nursey asks more pressing questions - were they in love, did they continue to hook up after they got back and he got better, and Dex says no, no, no to all of it. It wasn't like that. They were in the middle of nowhere, it was legit winter, they were bored and people change in these sort of extreme situations. They never once mentioned what happened when they were trying to keep each other warm. Nursey asks if that's all they're doing, keeping each other warm, and Dex hesitates. 

Nursey gets angry and loses his chill for the first time (they've argued before but Nursey always is chill. Combative, but chill) and gets dressed and makes to go outside and Dex is yelling at him that he's crazy, he can't go out in the dark alone, but Nursey storms off with his backpack and Dex starts to get dressed. Chowder meets him in the living area; whatever he and Farmer were doing they stopped when the yelling began, and Dex is gearing up to go outside. Chowder says he's crazy and Dex says Nursey is the crazy one, who's already out there. Dex, Chowder, and Farmer all go out to find him and they eventually do after an hour. Nursey's fine but very cold. Dex calls him reckless. Nursey says he would have been fine if he'd brought his compass so he could find his way back. Dex asks why he couldn't just look at the stars and Nursey says "Not all of us can navigate by the stars, Magellan," and Dex smirks and ribs at him because there actually aren’t stars since it’s the middle of summer and it’s never truly dark. They head back toward the shelter; Chowder and Farmer first, Dex and Nursey dawdling behind. Nursey admits he doesn't want this to end, that he's not just trying to stay warm, that he cares about Dex despite the fact that Dex is infuriating. Dex admits that he might have had feelings for his friend but his friend didn't want anything to do with him after they left the cold and Dex didn't want to get hurt again. Nursey says he would never hurt Dex, not intentionally, but he admits it won't be easy. They're so different. Dex says not really. We like the same things when it comes down to it. We both came to fucking Antarctica for Christ's sake, and Nursey agrees. Yeah, yeah they did.

Possible epilogue of Dex and Nursey sharing an office at Samwell, which is halfway between NY and Maine and fighting about coffee mugs before Nursey makes a joke about storming off into the darkness and they kiss.

[takingcourage]

Under the Stars

Pairing: Drake x MC

Word Count: 2,300

Summary: As he struggles to get his newborn colicky daughter back to sleep, Drake considers what it means to be a father. 

Note: I love Drake Walker, I really do. But I’m having a hard time dealing with the idea of him becoming a father almost immediately after the events of TRR3. In many ways, this story was just a way for me to get used to thinking of him in that new role. With that being said, I haven’t even begun to process what it means for his child to be Liam’s heir. If I choose to explore that particular aspect of his fatherhood, it will be in another story on another day. 

This also fulfills the request I received for kiss prompt #14 (standing behind someone, hugging them around the arms or the waist, and kissing the top edge of the shoulder). I hope you enjoy!

Drake jolted from sleep, uncertain exactly what the noise had been that had disturbed his slumber. Rolling onto his side, he tossed out an arm in a vain attempt to find his wife.

Jena had spent the first several months of marriage sleeping curled against his chest, but the pattern had been interrupted of late -- first by pregnancy and more recently by the mugginess that no amount of dehumidifiers seemed able to shake.

Still, they had always slept with some part of their bodies touching – ankles hooked, a hand on her side, her back to his shoulder – finding the bed empty was an anomaly.

He sent out a searching hand in one final effort before prying open eyes that would have much preferred to remain shut and invite further sleep. The glaring face of Jena’s clock confirmed that it was nearly 3:00 in the morning.

Damn.

She’d gotten up for a feeding almost two hours ago. His heart skidded in panic at the realization. Something must be wrong.

Throwing back the blankets, he jerked himself out of bed, not even bothering to put anything on over the boxers he’d been sleeping in. Before he could wrench open the door to the hallway, he noticed a muffled cry coming from the balcony. Drake changed his course, trying to turn the handle as quietly as he could. Even with the moonlight coming in from the paneled glass to guide his movements, it was something of a delicate procedure.

As he twisted the handle, he recognized the sound from before -- a pathetic creak to remind him how long he’d been forgetting to oil the stupid hinges. With a whispered curse he stepped out into the balmy morning air.

Jena was staring out at the water, her back turned to him, though it was obvious that she was still cradling their child in her arms. Breeze tossing her loose hair, she bobbed slowly from side to side, rocking the infant in a steady motion. “Shh, shh, shhhhh.”

The whispers were nearly lost beneath the rush of water and wind. Unsurprisingly, the tactic proved ineffective. A fresh strain of crying broke out just as he latched the door.

Drake’s heart clenched at the baby’s hoarse wails. She sounded exhausted, and if his assumptions were correct, it had been hours since either she or his wife had slept. A pang of guilt stopped him in his tracks. Although he’d taken his fair share of midnight feedings and late-night rockings to sleep, he knew that it wore on Jena so much more than it ever wore on him. When had a simple thing like getting a full night of sleep become something he was ashamed of?

As he pondered the question, his attention shifted from his daughter to his wife. Even without seeing her face, she carried her weariness in every movement. Her shoulders were tilted forward – pulled down more from fatigue than from the weight of the child she carried.

Drake’s whole world was before him. Somehow, he knew without a doubt that those two beings were worth infinitely more than all of the galaxies in the space beyond his sight.

Coming up behind Jena, he encircled her waist, lifting up until his arms supported the bundle she carried. She leaned into his chest as he pressed his lips to her bare shoulder.

There was the strain of tears in her shuddering breath when she turned her face toward him, cheek skimming the tip of his nose. “Hey.” She whispered the syllable tentatively, as if afraid that full voices would do further damage in upsetting the already wide-awake child.

“You should go to bed,” he insisted in low tones. “I’ll stay up with her.”

Lacking sleep, her response was driven by pure emotion. “I just don’t know what to do. It’s been hours and she hasn’t stopped crying. She’s absolutely miserable.”

He tightened his hold on them, eager for anything to assuage the influx of tears that were glistening in her eyes. “The doctors said she’ll grow out of it.”

“But it’s hurting her and I can’t do anything about it.” Her protest came out in a choked breath.

“I think the best thing is for you to get some rest tonight. Wearing yourself ragged won’t do her any good.” Drake let go of her slowly, turning her to face him.

Eyes adjusting to the moonlight, he could see her resolve crumble. Grey eyes searched his face. Her tongue darted out across her dry lips, as if preparing for a further excuse. “C'mon, Jena. I’ll take her for a while.”

“I just want our baby to be okay. I know colic is normal, but it doesn’t feel normal, Drake.”

He knew exactly what she was thinking. It felt like they were terrible parents – not an ideal start to the family they’d looked forward to raising together. Even though they both knew the situation would be temporary, that didn’t make it easy in the meantime.

Drake slipped one hand beneath her arm, the other sliding between the cradled baby and Jena’s breast so that she could pass her to him. Jena surrendered her burden with some reluctance, though there was relief in her bearing when she took a step back.

“We’ll look back on this someday,” he theorized, as much for his benefit as for hers, “and we’ll hardly even remember it.”

He could tell that her halfhearted smile was spurred on by appreciation for his attempt rather than any real sense of consolation.

"Get some sleep. Audie and I will be fine." Shifting the infant to his side, he leaned over to press a kiss to his wife's lips. “I love you.”

"And I love you,” she barely managed before her mouth was taken over by a yawn. Murmuring a goodnight, she sauntered back into the bedroom.

Drake's forced positivity dropped the moment Jena disappeared through the door. Back to the stone wall, he grimaced and lowered himself carefully to the flags beneath. Laying the baby across his thighs, he began going through the series of exercises the doctors had shown them some days before.

They’d tried everything – gripe water, dietary changes, massages – nothing seemed to offer the child any true relief. If Jena had been unable to get her to sleep, his efforts were going to be futile.

But he'd give it a try anyway.

Their child was well and truly helpless. What was worse, so was he. As much as the prospect of being a father had frightened him in the months leading up to her birth, he'd always assumed that he’d shift into the role automatically once she'd been born.

Some parts had come naturally -- the love he felt for her had been present since the moment he'd learned Jena was pregnant. But these moments of having to solve her problems, to discern whether her tears were from anger, pain, hunger, or any other myriad feeling -- in these times he was completely out of his depth.

His daughter was depending on him for everything, and he was failing.

He soothed a hand over her brown curls, overwhelmed by an influx of love for the restless child in his lap. She’d stopped crying for the moment, though her breathing was still too shaky to be much comfort to him. “I’d take it for you if I could,” he whispered, heart aching for her plight.

The pair of small, distracted eyes were scanning the stars above them. “You like being outside, don’t you?” He hoped that the quiet tones would be as soothing to her now as they’d been when he’d spoken to her inside the womb. He’d felt like he knew what he was doing then. Now, he wasn’t so sure.

“That’s a good thing. There are lots of things out here that I can’t wait to show you.” He traced two fingers below her ribcage in another attempt to stimulate digestion. “You’re lucky to have been born in the summer so that we can spend time outside. If you’d come in the winter, it would be a completely different story.”

“But you’ll like winter too,” he continued, gently stretching her legs from their bowed position. “It’s perfect for snowmen and skiing. I’ll even take you to watch the meteor showers in Lythikos someday. We’ll have to go there for something eventually.”

He sucked a sharp breath at the thought of the Duchess of Lythikos having an influence over his child’s life. Admittedly, Olivia wasn’t as insufferable as she’d seemed when they were growing up together, but he still wasn’t sure he liked the thought of Audie having her as an example. Knowing Olivia, she'd probably gift the child with a set of knives for her first birthday.

Drake ran a finger along his daughter’s fine dark brows, alternating sides and watching her lids grow heavy under the touch. Her grey-blue eyes fluttered shut, mouth calm in a perfect bow as she drew breath.

Success.

Releasing the air he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, Drake stilled his movements and considered the baby before him.

He'd spent so much time planning for the things he was going to do with this child, that he'd hardly stopped to consider what it would be like to simply be with her.

Like now.

It felt like he ought to do something with her -- like there was some way he could be spending this time to make the most of being a parent. But he came up short. It was late and she needed sleep more than anything.

She needs a father who knows how to help her, Drake considered, fingering a corner of the thin blanket spread over his knees. He wondered if his dad had ever felt so inadequate, but it seemed impossible. He couldn't remember Jackson Walker being anything other than a perfect father.

But then, he'd never had to deal with colic.

Drake felt his daughter's cry before it actually came. In a panic to keep the noise from Jena's hearing, he scooped her back into his arms, hoping that the comfort provided would soothe her quiet.

"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon. Shhh, shhh."

His daughter showed no interest in his nonsensical bargaining. The tiny face screwed up tightly, brow furrowing as her mouth puckered open.

Damn. Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn…

Against the still backdrop of the night, the resulting cry felt like enough to shatter glass.

Holding her securely, he scrambled back to his feet, stopping to shake out the sleepiness that had burrowed into one leg. “You’re fine, you’re fine,” he urged.

Audie’s agonized scream suggested that she was far from fine. Drake carried her to the furthest edge of the balcony, bouncing her with gentle firmness. The vice around his heart tightened with each cry. Somehow, he'd never expected having a baby to hurt like this.

He lifted her to his shoulder, continuing to rock as her tears dampened his bare skin. The position only made matters worse. Her wailing escalated the longer she was upright.

Uncertain what else to try, he turned her over on her stomach, stretching the length of her body along his forearm. It took the space of several minutes for the crying to fully stop, but eventually her breathing evened.

Drake paced the floor slowly, careful not to jostle the baby too much, but afraid that ceasing the movement altogether would mean jarring her awake. Her small cheek was squished against his inner elbow, tears drying quickly in the cool morning air.

One minute passed, then two. Humming quietly, he walked instinctive patterns under the arched breezeway, looking out to the starry sky beyond.

Miraculously, Audie remained asleep.

Even as relief flooded over him, he sensed the tinge of pride. Only his baby would be more content to sleep under the stars than she was in that stuffy, fancy nursery.

More than that, she’d fallen asleep with him. He hated the stress that Jena had gone through in the preceding hours, but he couldn’t shake his feeling of satisfaction. Maybe, just maybe, he was capable of doing something right.

He was still pacing when Jena found them some two hours later. The sky was glowing in anticipation of sunrise, and he could just make out the vivid red sleep lines across her cheek. Her hair was similarly disheveled, but she looked more rested than he’d seen her in days.

"How is she?"

"She's actually been sleeping for the last couple of hours," he informed, returning her whisper in kind.

"All of that crying must have worn her out.” She lifted a pitying hand to his cheek, fingers catching on the bristly stubble. "Probably wore you out too."

"I’ve had worse nights.” Drake shifted his arms slightly to redistribute the weight. “I think I’ll bring her out to see the stars more often.”

Jena squinted at the sudden gleam of sun that appeared over the tops of the trees. “She’s lucky to have you, Drake.” She met his eyes significantly, her words lingering as he considered the depth of meaning behind the statement.

Even if he hadn’t learned long ago that it was fruitless to argue with his wife’s judgement, he was still more inclined to accept the praise than he had been mere hours before. At some point in the night, all of his expectations and comparisons had ceased to be important. This baby was reality.

While he watched the sun rise that morning, his daughter trusting and wholly dependent in his arms, Drake was left with one overwhelming realization:

Even if it meant never sleeping through another full night in his life, he would still choose this -- choose her -- in a heartbeat.

[gerudospiriit]

Finding Fun

Handing over the reins of her mare to the inn’s stable hand was easily the most grueling task Nabooru had endured in all sixteen years of her life. More arduous than the training and punishments from Bruvi, the second in command and the best warrior the Gerudo possessed who had taken her under her wing and was well known for her harsh and brutal training regimens. More difficult than fighting off groups of raiders twice her size singlehandedly. She would even prefer when she nearly perished on the steps of the Spirit Temple at age eight in a pride-fueled exploit to prove her elder peers wrong over this.

She gripped the leather tighter as the boy reached out for them, her jaw clenched as she considered mounting her horse again and riding back to the desert to return to her normal regimen. Aveil and Vasi had already surrendered their mounts and chittered excitedly about the voe Vasi planned to meet up with again a few meters away. If she hopped back up on her horse now, she could escape easily. Camp out the next few days somewhere in Hyrule Field to avoid the inevitable, invasive questions that would follow her returning from basically an order to spend her free days in Hyrule proper (she needed to take it easy or she would burn out, they said). Anything would beat tagging along with these two while they flirted with any voe they could and likely ending up abandoned and sneaking back to their shared room at the inn alone, avoiding any and all those who would try to convince her to stray from that path to their room instead.

She sighed and continued her mental mantra of “it won’t be so bad” that she had taken up on the ride from home. A little too roughly, she handed her mount over and joined the other two Gerudo. She quelled her present and future annoyance with them by bolstering her pride, comparing the red garb of a warrior she donned (now for two years) to the purple of the lower ranking guards they still wore. A testament to her hard work over worrying about spending her free days cavorting with stupid Hylian boys or slacking off in general. Neither of them would wear those colors much longer, Aveil joining her in red and Vasi trading purple for orange, an artisan and seamstress under Nabooru’s mother. Their own initiation had been pushed back by Ganondorf’s coronation in the coming weeks. Nabooru had been grateful for her historic, early initiation; otherwise she would find herself in the same situation as Vasi and Aveil...not that either of them seemed bothered. She would have been furious, future king of the Gerudo or not.

The thought of Ganondorf did nothing to curb her annoyance either. When all this talk and her vehement complaints to him of the forced outing to Hyrule on her free days reached him, she thought that he would rally behind her, his own territorial nature taking precedence over all else at the very thought of other men trying to bed her (she hadn’t even slept with him yet, after all, though the promise of it loomed with the completion of his coronation). Usually, she would never even subtly suggest he use his position and influence to help her out of a tight spot, to vouch for her, or aid her in any way. She made a point not to, as she did not wish to take advantage of their friendship turned blooming relationship. This one time that she did, Ganondorf failed to take a hint, his mind occupied with his coronation, and he suggested she “try to enjoy herself” and “come back with fun stories.” But, she could not blame his distraction; she could only imagine being on the brink of ascending to the throne of their people. It was a heavy burden, one she knew he could handle if needed, but even someone as confident as him were not immune to the weight of duty.

An elbow to her side returned her to the emptying cobbled streets as the sunlight began to die. “Are you going to even try to enjoy yourself, Nabs?” Aveil asked, leading the way to their destination. Nabooru recognized the path and the alley they entered. The pub tucked away here was seedier than the rest, run down, smelled of all sorts of ungodly smells, and attracted the shadier sorts. To Nabooru, these sorts were far more interesting, and it meant she might at least get to witness a fight, if not engage in one herself. Thieves, gamblers, past and future convicts, and anyone else down on their luck flocked to this particular haunt and, as far as most Hylians were concerned, a couple Gerudo would fit right in. Nabooru was just grateful it kept the stares and whispers to a minimum. No one questioned their age there, either. While considered adults by Gerudo standards, Hylians only allowed those eighteen and older to drink.

“I don’t know. Are the two of you going to abandon me to the Wolfos again?” She narrowed her eyes at the two of them. Aveil only grinned, and Vasi had already thrown the door open to scan the area for the voe she had met last time and exchanged letters with in the meantime. Nabooru saw Vasi’s eyes light up before she flounced through the rest of the patrons. “Well, that’s one down. Want to make bets how long it will take you to disappear, too, Aveil?”

An eyeroll was all the response she received as Aveil tugged her over to the bar. She pushed her down onto a stool and flopped onto the one next to her. “Just try.” She waved the bartender over and ordered them both a drink. “That doesn’t mean you have to warm some voe’s bed, you know.”

Nabooru grunted and took a generous swig from the tankard set in front of her. She grimaced at the taste, but she supposed after two additional drinks, she would hardly notice or care. “This just isn’t my thing. I have better things to be doing than drinking and trying to avoid perverts. Like--”

“Training or reading or meditating or blah, blah, blah,” Aveil finished for her. “And that’s how you find an early death if the sword or starvation doesn’t get you first, Nabooru.”

She opened her mouth to berate Aveil for belittling the struggle of their people, but instead took the opportunity to drain the rest of her ale and order more. “Can’t die by the sword if you’re so good no one can touch you,” she grumbled, swiping up the new tankard and gulping down another large swig. A weak argument, she knew, and Aveil obviously wasn’t impressed either. It amused her at least.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you weren’t capable of having fun. I bet you couldn’t find something fun to do here if your life depended on it.”

Nabooru narrowed her eyes at her best friend in the face of her smirk. She knew exactly what game Aveil played. She issued a challenge, telling her she couldn’t do or handle something. She tried to resist, glaring into the bottom of her tankard as she drank. The tactic only further peeved her, mostly because it was threatening to work. She bounced her leg as her knuckles paled around the handle of her tankard. Really, in this situation she could not win. If she did not rise to the challenge, she proved Aveil “right.” If she did, Aveil was still right and she would be obligated to go through with the challenge.

Slamming the empty tankard on the bar, she stood. She would rather be seen as a fool than a coward. Aveil’s smirk widened. “I won’t wait up for you!” she called after her back with a laugh.

Weaving through the quickly filling tables of laughing drunks, arm wrestlers, and card players, she kicked open the door and wandered out onto the street, ignoring the curses of the man who would likely sustain a bump on his forehead where the wood smashed him. The sky had darkened completely, and torches burned to light the path. She entered the square as the last of the vendors and day walkers closed up shop, and the nightcrawlers took to the streets. The din of merchants hawking their wares and hagglers died down to make way for drunken laughter and the giggles of secret lovers as they sought private refuge.

Nabooru sought privacy of her own, the solitude of the room back at the inn. She could easily spin the bet in her favor; at that point, lying in bed and staring at the peeling paint sounded as fun as anything else. Aveil never said she had to find her particular idea exciting. Nabooru had nothing against winning on a technicality.

“--be the best in the guard someday. Watch me.”

Perhaps the ale had begun to affect her, halting her forward motion to eavesdrop on a pair of twenty-somethings. Trainees in the guard, apparently, if the snippet of conversation was anything to go on. A dusty blonde and dark brunette, both with the hair tied back in a stub of a ponytail, neither looked like they could hold a sword, let alone swing it. The brunette was too scrawny and weedy, and the blonde might have better luck handling the sword, but the extra weight he bore suggested likely not for very long. Even the well-seasoned members of the guard had some brawn to them. Brand new recruits, apparently, but she supposed size meant little in the way of the sword. Nothing she couldn’t test with a quick spar.

“Excuse me.” She approached the young Hylians, who both straightened up and rested a hand on their rupee pouches at the sight of her. Their paranoia didn’t keep their eyes from roving her body like a couple of starved Wolfos. She gritted her teeth and cleared her throat; bear it this time. “I couldn’t help but overhear. The two of you are in the guard?”

“Well, training so not—Oof!”

The dark-haired male glared at his cohort as a knobby elbow stuck itself in his ribs. “We are. You’re looking at future generals, Gerudo.” He smirked at her and pushed off the wall he leaned on, chest puffed out. The line was meant to melt her, have her weak at the knees and groveling for further flirtation. Unfortunately for them, she sought a different sort of fun that most girls did not request.  

“That said,” he paused inches in front of her (a mistake considering it only exaggerated the half a head of height she had on him), “if you’re up to no good, we’ll have to apprehend you and keep you locked up for the night. Right, Tarin?”

The blonde, Tarin, took several, awkward seconds to catch his friend’s meaning. “Oh! Yeah, heh. But we would take good care of you.”

Nabooru snorted, resting her hands on her hips. “Sorry, I’m not out making trouble tonight. Too bad, though. Would have looked good to your captain if you could apprehend a Gerudo up to no good.” Their smirks fell, and they exchanged a disappointed glance. She could feel them losing interest, so she had to reel them back in. What worked best with Ganondorf? He was the only male she ever really talked to, and likely a horrible example to hold a couple of horny Hylians to, but she had a challenge to win and a best friend to prove wrong.

“Tarin’s a nice name,” she blurted, earning raised eyebrows from both males. “Nice and, uh, strong. Perfect for a future general of the prestigious Hylian Guard.” She felt her mouth twitch as she held in her laughter. She knew ten-year-olds who could give some of the best Hylian guards a run for their money.  

Pathetic as her attempt seemed, the scoff of the ringleader suggested she had accomplished some form of competition between them. “General Saro easily has a better, tougher ring to it. Tarin could be a girl’s name.”

“What? I’m not a girl! Tarin isn’t a girl’s name!”

“Guys, guys.” Her voice thankfully reeled their attention back to her rather than each other’s throats. “Both of your names are great. So manly. Nabooru is the only girl’s name I can think of off the top of my head, and it sounds nothing like your names.”

“Heh...that’s a weird name. Na-boo-ru.” Tarin snickered, earning him a glare from the Gerudo and another sharp jab from his buddy.

“Excuse my friend,” said Saro, bowing reverently though with a playful air to it. “He’s a little...slow in the head.”

“I noticed.” Tarin grumbled under his breath and crossed his arms, and Saro rebolstered himself in his victory. Nabooru leaned to the side and nodded toward sword at the brunette’s hip. “You expect to be the best swordsman in the guard, right? How good are you?”

Saro didn’t miss a beat. “The best in all the land, of course.” Even Tarin had to nod in agreement. “My father has taught me how to swordfight since I was five. Even Lady Impa was impressed with me.”

Nabooru hummed in feigned admiration; she took note of the fact that men responded to stroking their ego. She could likely get them to pay her at this point. But rupees were not her aim. “That is impressive.” Fingers grazed the hilt of one of the blades at her own hip. “Care to test yourself against a Gerudo warrior? Just a friendly spar to test our skills.”

“Heh...well, that would be a decent test of my abilities...”

Tarin scrunched his nose, his round face screwing up in displeasure at the thought of his friend sparring with her. She started to suggest they could both spar with her, but the blonde expressed his true grievance before she could: “Come on, Saro. This is the only night we’re going to have to whatever we want for months. We can’t spend it doing the same thing we do every. Day. I thought we were getting drinks!”

“Hmph.” The shorter male pondered each proposal, his too pointy chin jutting out stubbornly as if to defy both of them. He tapped his thumb on the end of his sword’s hilt. “My friend here has a point, Nabooru.” Tarin’s grimace turned to a pleased grin. “But, perhaps after a few drinks, we can have that friendly spar. It’s not every day I get the chance to practice with a beautiful woman.”

The Gerudo wanted nothing more than to point out that the reason beautiful women never challenged him to a fight was likely because his society typically frowned upon the idea of women warriors, but her disappointment with their decision to choose alcohol over a good fight overpowered that particular desire. So much for her brand of fun. Perhaps Aveil had a point in some way: she could not find fun here because her interests diverged too far from that of most other people. She thought perhaps she had gotten lucky finding these two. Warriors with ambition (if not overconfidence). But, after this short exchange, they proved more Aveil's type of company than her own.

“Why don’t you come with us?” Saro suggested. “Be easier than trying to find each other later.”

The cynical part of her whispered she should refuse, their initial suggestive dialogue unsettling at best. She imagined the peeling, pea green paint in their room at the inn and succumbing to sleep on the lumpy, possibly bug infested mattress. Aveil waking her when and if she stumbled back in drunk, giggling and talking too loudly for the cramped space. She knew she would not see Vasi until they were ready to head back to the fortress unless she decided to abandon them for marriage and life out here.  

She inwardly sighed. “Alright. Sure. I’ll go with you.”

“Wait.” Tarin squinted at her, gaze critical over the lusty stares they greeted her with. “Are you even old enough to drink?”

“Someone already thought I was. So, sure.”

“Hey, she’s got confidence,” Saro snorted and started off, Tarin and Nabooru following. “That counts for enough. By now, everyone is probably too drunk to care. She can pass as old enough, anyway. I know a place where we can get free drinks. The barmaid is crazy about anyone in the guard. That’s what Franz told me.”

The rest of their conversation devolved into names she didn’t recognize and training stories she didn’t care about. She did glean from them that Tarin came from a noble family, his father shoehorning him a place among the guard’s trainees after he apparently choked at the initial try out. Nerves, he claimed, not a lack of skill. Saro was an only child to farmers and couldn’t stand the lifestyle. Thus, he left his parents to seek out the life in the Hylian army. Though his captains called his form sloppy and his style unrefined, he showed promised, which Saro translated to future general because he put the rest of the green trainees to shame in the practice yard.

Inside the bar, a much more relaxed atmosphere than the one she left and attached to an inn frequented by Hylian guards on their off days, Nabooru selected a table out of the way and waited for the trainees to return with the drinks. Elbow propped on the table and chin resting in her hand, she fought her restlessness with people watching. She recognized a few of the usual merchants sharing a drink over a game of chess by the fire, laughing instead of at each other’s throats for sales. Two of the inn’s maids taking a break leaned against the walls in the corner, drinking tea and looking unimpressed with whatever the drunk man speaking with them was pitching.  

“She must have had the night off.”  

Saro’s gruff and frustrated statement and the scrape of chair legs on the stone floor drew her attention from the man and woman awkwardly drudging through some mockery of conversation. Tarin slid her a shot of amber liquid and a tankard filled with ale (that she hoped tasted better than the stuff she had earlier).  

“I take it things didn’t go as well as you hoped with that bar maid?” Nabooru smirked as she dug some rupees from her pouch and slid them across the table to Saro. She ignored the scrunch of his nose and the twist of his mouth as he stared at the gems a moment too long. He finally added them to his own rupee pouch. “Or maybe that Franz guy was just messing with you?”

Tarin shook as he tried to maintain his laughter under Saro’s warning glare. “She told him he was the third and not the best-looking trainee trying to get free stuff tonight, and that if he didn’t plan to pay he needed to leave.”

Saro swiped up his shot and drained it, wincing and waiting for them to follow suit. Taking the tiny glass between her thumb and middle finger, she tipped it back into her mouth. Whiskey. It burned her tongue and throat, but it beat the ale she sucked down earlier that evening. She set the glass down and leaned back in her chair. She would have to limit the shots if she hoped to keep her wits for their spar.  

Or, so she thought. Saro had already finished his tankard and was waving down a maid for another while Tarin swallowed half of his in one swig. She frowned; at this rate, she suspected both of them would be far too drunk to offer any sort of challenge. Their flailing and falling over might prove amusing, but amusement paled in comparison to a fair and challenging victory.

She huffed through her nose and lifted her own tankard to her lips and waved the maid’s request for another drink or shot off with her free hand. She did not know which, but either the last, slim glimmer of hope or the knowledge that she may need to keep her wits about her to make an escape convinced her to stay sober.  

“So, what’s the desert like?” Tarin asked once they both had their drink refilled. “Hot?”

“Hot,” she agreed, setting her cup back on the table. “During the day, anyway. Cold at night. Sandy. It’s hard to navigate if you don’t know what you’re doing, but I think it’s beautiful overall.”

The maid brought around two more drinks for each of them. “How do you train in the heat?” Saro asked, paying the woman before she strode off, now empty tray beneath her arm. “I can’t even stand the summer heat here.”

“Well, when you grow up in it, you probably don’t notice it as much, idiot.” Tarin snorted and winced when Saro punished him with a blow to the arm. “Hey! That’s just common sense!”

In spite of herself, Nabooru couldn’t help but laugh. They amused her at the very least. “He’s right, I guess. I’m just used to it. What I don’t understand is how the lot of you fight in full, clunky, metal armor. Especially in the summer. Isn’t it hard to move in it? It seems restrictive.”

Saro nodded behind his tankard and finished it off, wiping his mouth with his forearm as he pushed the empty cup away. “Absolutely. It’s like a sweat swamp in those tin cans, and don’t get me started on trying to fight in them.” A shrug. “But I guess you just get used to that, too. Tarin still struggles, but he’s not the most athletic, as you can see.”

“At least I can wield a broadsword without nearly taking someone’s head off because it’s too heavy,” said Tarin, one of the fresh tankards brought to his lips. He slurped the ale down. “So, are the Gerudo really all women, or is that another lie they tell us trainees to get us in trouble?”

“Oh, that one’s true. But don’t get any ideas,” she warned, narrowing her eyes at the lascivious glance they shared. “Outsiders aren’t allowed passed the valley. Though one male is born every century. The one now is a few years older than me.”

“Whoa. Lucky guy. I’d trade him places, anyway.” Both males laughed and knocked their tankards together, earning them an eyeroll from Nabooru. She had to stifle a shudder and soften her sour expression at the thought of either of them taking Ganondorf’s place. They would make a mockery of the position for one, and she certainly would not harbor the same feelings she had for the prince for either of them. To take either of them seriously as a leader would prove difficult enough, but anything beyond a casual friendship would be nigh impossible. Her work ethic would likely drive them away from her in the first place, and she drank to the Goddess of the Sand for that.

She pondered her next words, a reprimand, for all of a few seconds: “Keep talking like that and you’ll never find yourself lucky enough to have more than words with a Gerudo.” A lie, almost; it just depended on who they managed to talk to. But, it ended their guffawing. And, if they listened, perhaps they would learn to treat the Gerudo and other women a bit more respectfully. “We have far too much pride to allow anyone to speak of us like that.”

The silence between them spoke volumes, a smug smirk on her lips. Saro finally drank from his tankard and cleared his throat. “I guess we shouldn’t argue with advice from a real live Gerudo.” He slurred his words some, a tell-tale sign that the alcohol he consumed would most certainly derail their plan to spar. She was far too proud to challenge him intoxicated. Where was the challenge in that?

The rest of the conversation devolved when the man-boys decided to turn their drinking into a competition. They slugged back drinks like water, and would shoot her a random question about herself or the Gerudo when they remembered her presence. At one point, Tarin asked her to flex her arm so they could test her muscles. She humored them, and their wide eyes and praise only boosted her ego, the odd request quickly forgiven. Soon, the maid cut them off despite their begging and sent them stumbling and giggling to the door.

Nabooru remained in her seat, snickering as she watched Tarin trip over the leg of a chair. A cleared throat raised her attention away from Tarin scrambling back to his feet as Saro pointed and laughed, nearly walking into the doorframe himself. Gold eyes met the olive green of the barmaid, the woman’s chestnut eyebrows pulled together in frustration. She rested her free hand on her hip and clicked her tongue.

“Are you not going to help your friends home?”

The Gerudo snorted. “They’re not really my friends, so I hadn’t really planned to, no.”

“Unless you’re going to buy more drinks,” she pointed to the door, “I suggest you leave me a generous tip since your not friends neglected to and get lost. Paying customers only.”

Nabooru stubbornly retained her seat and grit her teeth. However, after a few seconds of seething beneath the maid’s glare, she decided that the last entertainment this place had to offer departed with Saro and Tarin. Grumbling, she dug some rupees from her wallet and headed back out into the night.

Upon reaching the square, she grimaced when she found the trainees had not made it far. Tarin hunched over a planter, back heaving as he vomited. Saro turned around in circles, expression distant and making him appear confused and lost. As soon as they exited the bar (and left her to tip the maid), her business with them should have ended. Everything in her screamed to just return to the inn and get some sleep, as she would likely need to care for Aveil in the morning. But she stayed rooted to the spot, unable to peel her gaze away from the catastrophe in front of her.

Growling, she stomped over to Saro and seized his forearm, dragging him back over to Tarin. Once the blonde pulled his head from the planter and cleared his lips of any residue with the back of his hand, she wrapped her fingers around his wrist. “Castle’s this way, idiots,” she scolded, leading them toward the walls and spires rising to stars above. She would escort them to the gate and dump them on the guard there. She refused to try and get them any further. “Damn lightweights. If you throw up on me, I’ll throw you in the moat, by the way.”

“Hey, Tarin.” He snorted as he shuffled along beside her. “Think she’s mad we left her?”

Nabooru simply rolled her eyes and tuned out the other trainee’s response and the rest of their drivel, knowing she would likely knock them both out if she listened. As she approached the gate, she shifted her grip to their upper arms and yanked them up, trying to help them show a little bit of dignity.  

The guard at the gate lifted the visor of his helmet, gaze shifting between the two young men and then to pause on Nabooru. “Tch, odd for a Gerudo to bring her victims straight to someone who could arrest her,” he sneered. She noticed his grip tighten on his spear. “Get them all liquored up before robbing them blind, did you?”

The protests from the trainees told her she had squeezed a little too hard in her aggravation. She released them and shoved them toward the guard (hard enough, but not so much that they would trip in their current state). Fiery words burned hotter in her throat than any liquor could as she swallowed them back. As much as she wanted to teach the idiot a lesson—either verbally or physically—she kept her composure.  

Gold eyes narrowed into slits as she scoffed. “You said it yourself: that would be stupid,” she snapped. “These two are your problem now.”

She turned on her heel and didn’t wait for a response, keeping her ears open in case he decided to make good on that promise to try and arrest her. She reached the Market once more without hearing footsteps, the clink of armor, or demands to stop a thief. Almost disappointed, as she still craved a decent fight, Nabooru strode back to the inn.

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

Finding Aveil stretched out on the bed upon her arrival surprised her and, judging by the Aveil’s arched brow, her best friend was equally stunned. She sat up, tossing the book she’d likely dug out of Nabooru’s things to the side. “I was beginning to think I wouldn’t see you back here at all,” she admitted, crossing her legs. “Thought you might have actually found some fun after all.”

As she toed off her shoes and sat down on the edge of the bed, Nabooru considered telling Aveil about her misadventures. Finding Tarin and Saro boasting in the streets. Challenging them to a fight. How they dragged her to a bar, got too drunk to function, and she dragged them back to the castle. While she had had some semblance of fun, meaning she could easily win their little wager, the fact that a large part of her wanted to just forget the whole thing suggested that it all likely only amounted to an amusing distraction at best.

Nabooru untied her wallet from her hip and tossed what remained of her rupees into Aveil’s lap. “Sure didn’t,” she said, sliding the jewel from her hair and undressing. She pulled back the sheets and dove underneath them. “Guess I’m not cut out for the lifestyle out here.”

[kanasmusings]

[Translation] StarMyu Third STAGE Drama CD - Track 3

Okay, LMAO. Tengenji’s as wild as ever~ The track starts out with him just babying Tavian again  (≧◡≦) And then Inumine arrives and everything goes wilder XD  Still, a sort of meaningful conversation happens afterwards ^^

※ Please don’t re-post the English translations without permission. Please just like/reblog them instead ^^

Under the cut, enjoy~!

Track 03: [第2幕:月皇と空閑の部屋にて] “Chapter 2: Inside Tsukigami and Kuga’s Room”

[0:00]

  TENGENJI: Chapter 2: Inside Tsukigami and Kuga’s Room.

  TENGENJI: Geez… Why are you always so wild~?

TENGENJI: (whispering) My really cute… (he suddenly raises his voice) Tavian~!

(Tavian meows)

TENGENJI: (gasps excitedly) Hey, look at this, Tsukigami. My angel’s sleeping face is the cutest~

KAITO: Tengenji, how many times should I tell you? This is my and Kuga’s room, not yours.

KAITO: It’s also not a place for you to play around with Tavian.

KAITO: Don’t just use our room as if it’s yours.

TENGENJI: Cats have a strong sense of territory.

TENGENJI: It’s not like I came here on my own. I have no choice because Tavian wants to be here, you boor.

TENGENJI: (to Tavian, sweetly) Right~?

KAITO: Good grief. If someone catches you doing that here, I’ll end up getting lectured for breaking the rules, too.

(banging on door)

TENGENJI/KAITO: …!

INUMINE: Tsukigami, you there?!

KAITO: Hm? This voice is—

TENGENJI: Team Hiragi’s big dog.

INUMINE: HEY! (banging on door) TSUKIGAMI! (more banging on the door)

INUMINE: (still banging on the door) HEY!! HE~Y!

KAITO: Ah! Wait, Inumine, don’t break the door!

KAITO: (whispering) Tengenji, hide Tavian.

TENGENJI: Y-yeah, got it…!

TENGENJI: (whispering to Tavian) I’ll cover you with a blanket for a bit, okay~?

(Kaito opens the door)

KAITO: What’s wrong? Is there something you need from me?

INUMINE: Yeah! Do you have that rolly thing? If you have, can you lend it to me?

KAITO: … Rolly thing…?

TENGENJI: The one used for cleaning carpets?

INUMINE: Nope, the one you take when going on a trip.

KAITO: Ah, a suitcase with caster wheels? I don’t have any but… Tengenji, do you have one?

TENGENJI: Don’t have any.

KAITO: You heard him.

INUMINE: I see.

KAITO: What do you need a suitcase for? If you’re only going home then, the usual bag you have is okay, isn’t it?

INUMINE: You see, my family decided to go on a trip for spring break! It’s a long vacation so I need to bring a lot of things, y’know?

KAITO: Hm?

TENGENJI: Then, it shouldn’t be a problem, right? You have a suitcase back at your house, don’t you?

TENGENJI: You should have one, right?

INUMINE: That was supposed to be the plan but, I made a mistake with the date so, everyone already left~! Tee-hee~

TENGENJI/KAITO: Huh?!  / What!?

KAITO: They left you…!?

TENGENJI: What are you gonna do then…?

INUMINE: I’ll go tomorrow and meet them all there~ I’ll go straight from the dorms so I’m looking for a rolly thing~

KAITO: Good grief… You’re so tiring.

INUMINE: Ehehe~

KAITO: In the meantime, just bring the things you think are necessary and then just buy what you need when you get there. How about that?

KAITO: I don’t know where you’re going but that seems the most logical. It’ll work out somehow, right?

INUMINE: Yup! I’ll do that! See ya!

KAITO: Ah, wait.

INUMINE: Hm?

KAITO: I have a travelling bag so I’ll lend it to you.

INUMINE: Oh~ Thank you, Tsukigami!

KAITO: Come in and wait a bit.

INUMINE: Sure! Pardon the intrusion~ Yoohoo, Tengenji!

TENGENJI: Yeah.

(Kaito closes the door)

[02:51]

  INUMINE: Hm? (sniffing) Huh? (sniffing)

INUMINE: I knew Tengenji’s room had it but, Tsukigami’s room smells like a cat, too, huh.

TENGENJI: …! Wh-wh-wh-what are you talking about?

TENGENJI: Is your nose broken or something, you boorish dog?

INUMINE: Really? Yeah, it may be~!

TENGENJI/KAITO: Phew…

INUMINE: You guys aren’t going back home?

TENGENJI: Hm? Ah, I’ll be going home next week. What about you, Tsukigami?

KAITO: I’ll stay in the dorm for spring break. Both my parents are busy with work currently.

KAITO: I’d rather laze about in the dorms instead of watching over the house.

KAITO: Since Kuga said he’d be going home tomorrow too, so I’ll get to enjoy the room for myself after a while.

INUMINE: Then, you’re the same as Sawatari and Tatsumi, huh~!

KAITO: Ah… Oh yeah, they did say that they’ll stay in the dorms.

TENGENJI: Heh~

INUMINE: You’re gonna be pretty sad being away from Tsukigami and the others, huh, Tengenji~

INUMINE: You get along well with them after all~

TENGENJI: I-it’s not like I’ll be lonely. Don’t just start assuming!

INUMINE: But, everyone will be in the same class, right~? Isn’t that great, Tengenji!

KAITO: Oh, I found it, Inumine. Here.

INUMINE: (singing) Thank you~! Whoo!

TENGENJI: Listen to what I’m saying, hey!

KAITO: Putting that aside. Inumine, you said that you go on trips during spring break a lot but, have you prepared accordingly for after that?

INUMINE: Hm?

KAITO: You’re pretty similar to our Hoshitani after all. I’m worried about you even though you’re from a different team.

INUMINE: Hm~? What do I need to prepare?

KAITO: Ah… (sighs)

TENGENJI: This guy’s hopeless.

KAITO: You do know the curriculum for our second year, right?

INUMINE: Yup! We’ll be helping with preparing for Hiragi-senpai and the others’ graduation ceremony, right!?

INUMINE: Shadow & Lights~!

TENGENJI: Oh, what’s this~? So you do know the name.

INUMINE: Ehehe~ Sawatari taught me about it.

KAITO: Musical: Shadow & Lights.

KAITO: It is a performance done as part of a tradition for Ayanagi Academy’s Musical Department.

KAITO: The story is a classic but the setting is a bit unique on its own. On top of that, the cast of characters and the prgramme change completely for every year it’s performed.

KAITO: I guess you can call it something very appropriate to test our abilities as 2nd years to support the graduating cast.

TENGENJI:  As expected from a graduate of Ayanagi Academy’s middle school~

TENGENJI:  You’re very knowledgeable.

INUMINE: It seems interesting~! Hey, hey, what kinda story is it?!

TENGENJI: You’re not interested in anything except for plays, huh.

INUMINE: I end up forgetting anything after I’ve been told it anyway~

TENGENJI/KAITO: (sighs)

[05:32]

  KAITO: The story basically goes like this.

KAITO: The setting is London. It was an age where the musical industry was booming in West End.

KAITO: Lambert, an actor’s son and Alexis, a stage owner’s son, have been friends from when they were young and aimed to become actors together.

KAITO: However, Alexis covered for Lambert in a freak accident and his face gets scarred.

KAITO: Alexis, who lost his dreams of becoming an actor, shut his heart from society and his best friend Lambert.

KAITO: He ended up living as a recluse in the theater’s attic.

KAITO: The main story begins several years after, when they’ve become adults.

KAITO: Lambert became an actor unable to get roles and Alexis lived as an unsuccessful playwright.

KAITO: The kind-hearted Lambert couldn’t leave Alexis who shared the same dream as he.

KAITO: Every day, he would go to the attic and try to talk to Alexis through the door. He talks to him without any hint of ill-will.

KAITO: Though Alexis doesn’t answer, he listens to Lambert’s complaints sometimes and he hands him a “treasure” from a small opening in the door.

INUMINE: A treasure?

KAITO: Yeah. It’s sort of a thing they did when they were kids that they’ve continued on with.

KAITO: Sometimes it’s a broken fountain pen, other times it’s a button that fell off [a shirt].

KAITO: Though they may seem like junk, to Lambert, it was a source of comfort together with Alexis’ words of consoling. “I’ll give you my treasure,” he says.

KAITO: The both of them continued with that sort of awkward friendship.

KAITO: One day, Lambert got a chance to play a really huge leading role.

KAITO: On the other side, Alexis got his break as well.

KAITO: A patron named Lucas came from Broadway and took a liking to his work and tried to invite him to go with him.

KAITO: But Alexis had no intention of leaving his best friend Lambert behind in London.

KAITO: Lucas, who planned to use Alexis’s skills to rise to fame, decided to let Lambert fall into darkness.

INUMINE: What?!

KAITO: Lambert gets injured seriously and lost his chance to play the role.

INUMINE: That sounds like a sad story…

TENGENJI: That’s not where it ends though, is it?

KAITO: Yeah.

KAITO: Lambert and Alexis are cornered by a deep sadness.

KAITO: But, that’s exactly what they notice. Even in the deepest of darkness, there’s always one light that supports them.

KAITO: That light that keeps close to them were in fact, an embodiment of each other.

INUMINE: Yup, yup~! (singing) The things we treasure are really closer than we originally thought, huh~!

INUMINE: (singing) As long as I’m with you, I’m sure that we’ll be able to achieve our dreams someday~! Or something!

KAITO: Well, in a way, I guess it is. The two of them sing when their hearts connect again.

KAITO: The duet song titled “Shadow & Lights” is truly one written for the two main characters.

KAITO: And then the curtain closes on the performance.

TENGENJI: It’s a classic just as you said.

KAITO: Yeah. But one of this performance’s characteristic are the two “shadows” present with the main characters.

INUMINE: Shadow? By shadow, you mean that kind of shadow?

KAITO: Exactly. They’re the personifications of Alexis and Lambert’s hearts respectively.

KAITO: They exist on stage as Lambert’s Shadow and as Alexis’s Shadow.

KAITO: The Shadows can’t be seen by the people, they don’t talk, and they don’t interact with anyone else.

KAITO: But, they’re very important roles that are constantly on stage.

KAITO: I guess you could say, it’s one part of the process for Ayanagi Academy’s graduation ceremony.

TENGENJI: The 2nd year training roles, huh.

INUMINE: The… 2nd year… training roles?????

TENGENJI: Inumine… Don’t tell me that you don’t know about that.

INUMINE: Hm???

TENGENJI: Geez… You’ve got guts not knowing anything about that when we’ll be able to get the chance to stand with our senpai on stage if we get chosen for the training role.

KAITO: It’s as Tengenji says. It’s a special role where we can stand on stage together with our mentors.

KAITO: As 2nd years, we have a chance to not only be the support but be a co-actor as well.

KAITO: To us 2nd years, it’s our chance to be able to stand on a huge stage.

KAITO: Students who want to get experience on stage even in school, students who set their sights on being a member of the Kao Council aim for these training roles.

KAITO: Of course, us, too.

TENGENJI: Obviously.

KAITO: Even if you’re in a Star Team, if you let your guard down, you’ll fall behind, Inumine.

[10:34]

  INUMINE: OoooooooooOOOOOHhHHHHH!!! YOU TWO ARE SO COOL!

INUMINE: I’m pretty sure you two will land a training role! DEFINITELY!

TENGENJI/KAITO: …

TENGENJI: (whispering) He’s so exhausting… This guy definitely doesn’t understand the training roles system…

KAITO: (whispering) Probably.

INUMINE: Ah, but, but! Being the support is fun too but, I kinda want to stand on stage, too~

INUMINE: Hey, Tsukigami. Can the training roles become ours if we’re good?

KAITO: Ah… I think you can say so, yeah.

INUMINE: I see~! Then, I think it’s okay~! I’m good after all!

TENGENJI/KAITO: …!

INUMINE: (humming) I’m looking forward to it~!

TENGENJI: (scoffs) This guy…

KAITO: He’s clumsy with anything aside from musicals, huh… I think I need to re-think exactly what those words mean.

  (knocking on door)

ALL: Hm?

NAYUKI: Tsukigami-kun, Tengenji-kun! Oh, Inumine-kun’s here, too.

KAITO: Nayuki?

INUMINE: Yoohoo, Nayuki-cchi!

TENGENJI: What’s up? You need something?

NAYUKI: Yeah. I made too much curry so it turned into a conversation of inviting everyone for dinner and then…

NAYUKI: Hoshitani-kun suggested that we should invite the members of the other teams and have a social gathering.

TENGENJI: A social gathering?!

KAITO: An informal one, huh.

NAYUKI: (chuckles) Will you be able to come? Inumine-kun, too.

INUMINE: Yes, yes!

KAITO: Yeah. I don’t know how many will join but, Team Otori and Team Hiragi will be there, right?

TENGENJI: (clears throat) I’ll… come along with you.

NAYUKI: Really~? Then, we’ll be waiting at the cafeteria. See you there!

KAITO: Yeah.

TENGENJI: (happy but holding back his excitement) S-see you later!

INUMINE: Bye-bye~!

(Nayuki leaves and closes the door behind him)

[12:27]

  TENGENJI: Really… Hoshitani would probably be the same as always even in a new class.

TENGENJI: I don’t know if I should praise him for having a strong heart or if I should get mad about his naivety.

KAITO: I agree.

KAITO: Putting that aside for now… I got worried extensively about Inumine while we were talking but…

KAITO: That Hoshitani’s at least a little bit aware of the graduation ceremony and the training roles, right…?

KAITO: I did tell him and warn him about it before but…

KAITO: I don’t feel like he’s looking more into it…!

TENGENJI: Ah…

INUMINE: It’s okay, Tsukigami, Tengenji!

INUMINE: If you don’t think too deep into it, life will work out for you with a bang just fine~!

INUMINE: Sparkles~!

TENGENJI/KAITO: I feel so uneasy…

  ==END==

※ Please don’t re-post the English translations without permission.

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[amethyst-noir]

tony and stephen taking a much needed vacation on a small stretch of remote and private beach with a quaint little cottage tony owns. just having fun in the ocean, sunbathing, skinny dipping at night, making love beneath the stars. just pure and simple bliss of being able to enjoy one another uninterrupted

Happy Birthday, Doctor Stephen Strange. In honor of his day I’ve decided to post pure and utter fluff and gift him with an engagement to Tony, once again. It’s so sweet one might get sick when staring at it for too long. You have been warned. 😉

This is a short sequel to In the Wake of Adversity, if you want to read more about the black silk, but can be read alone. It continues the light d/s themes brought up in the second chapter of that story - and makes a little bit more explicit, but still very tame - but otherwise it’s just pure fluff with an annoying lack of sex because I still can’t write that. So if you like a hint of bondage with a slightly submissive Stephen you might enjoy this one. I’d say this is R rated because the intent and the not so innocent implications are there, I just fail at the delivery. Sorry. But that’s what a fade to black is there for. This is the last of the nice, fluffy prompts from two months ago. I loved it so much that I decided to keep it for last. I already miss them. 🦋

The title, just like its predecessor, was taken from a song by Dead Can Dance.

A Passage in Time

“Stephen?” Tony spoke his name quietly but Stephen was too immersed in his book to even look up. A short “Hmm?” was his only reaction.

But when nothing came afterwards he looked up - only to be captivated by the look on Tony’s face. The book suddenly forgotten he focused his whole attention on the man before him. Kneeling before him. “What? How? Why?”

Tony laughed. “Don’t get all worked up, love, this is not an proposal. At least not of the sorts you’re probably thinking of right now.” Tony held out his right hand, waiting.

What a shame, Stephen thought before he could get himself under control. It took him only a moment to switch gears and put his left hand into Tony’s waiting one. The gesture was familiar by now and he knew what was now coming. Time to get ‘undressed’ as he’d started to call it in his mind when Tony unwrapped the black silk bindings form his arms on the end of the day.

“It’s already time?” he asked uncertainly. Pleasantly tired after hours out in the sun and a few hours lazing around with an interesting book he’d lost all concept of time. But it was already dark outside, so…

“Not quite. But I want to take you out into the ocean and they would get in the way.” Tony slowly started to unwrap the silk. He always took his time, making sure to touch every bit of newly exposed skin. When he was finished he pressed a kiss right onto the pulse point. He smirked when he felt Stephen’s pulse jump under his lips. “Eager, aren’t we?”

The time for pretense was long over; Stephen had given up telling himself that he wasn’t completely in love with Tony months ago. “Always.” He put his trembling hand on Tony’s face and bent down to capture his mouth in a kiss. A moment later he slid off the couch to join Tony on the carpeted floor of their beach refugium. “What do you have in mind?” He held out his right arm and Tony started to loosen the silk. He had his own ideas and was curious if they were more or less the same.

“A little bit of night swimming,” was the answer, accompanied by a suggestive wink and Stephen smiled. Exactly what he had had in mind.

“And afterwards?”

“I’m open to suggestions. I’ve been told that I’m too dominant and need to learn to let other people make the decisions.”

Who told you that? Stephen just cocked an eyebrow, unimpressed. Everytime Stephen wanted to take charge Tony was more than willing to let him do with him and his body as he pleased. But it was true that Tony more often than not took the lead in their love life and it was done by mutual agreement. Most of the time Stephen liked it when Tony told him what to do in bed. Or other places. Especially since coming back from over a year as a ghost he reveled in being held down and gently be put into his place. The black silk around his wrists had become so much more than just an exercise in getting him used to have something more or less permanently around his wrists and arms. The braces he would get someday would give him better support and maybe even stop the shaking. But in the meantime? Black silk bonds it was and Stephen had been the one to react in an unexpected way the first time Tony had put them on him. That night had been memorable and Tony, after a short period of adjustment, had reveled in his new role.

It worked amazingly well and Stephen didn’t take kindly to people needlessly criticising things about Tony.

They would talk about it another time, Stephen would make sure of that. Right now they were on a time-out, far away from reality, and he didn’t want anything to interfere with their hard-won vacation. “Then I decide to let you decide,” he said after a moment of consideration and made sure to relax his body even more into Tony’s direction. “I’m yours, so do with me whatever you want.” Tony had a wonderful, wicked imagination and had surprised Stephen quite a few times so far.

He was rewarded with a beautiful smile that lit up Tony’s whole face and eyes. Stephen breath caught, as always when he was confronted with all the love and adoration Tony felt for him. He could only hope that his own face could convey even a fraction of the same emotions. Tony carefully removed the last of the silk before kissing his right hand. “Come here,” he murmured and Stephen followed willingly into the embrace. He shivered as Tony’s hands found their way under the loose, sleeveless tunic he wore and began to stroke his back and sides. “You’re going to me mine later.” There was a growl in Tony’s voice and Stephen shivered in anticipation. It had been far too long since the last time they had a whole night just for each other and now they had three days.

“I already am,” he whispered back. “Completely and forever.”

Through countless timelines, through death and beyond.

“You romantic idiot.” Tony took his time in kissing him while caressing his body everywhere he could reach, except where Stephen really wanted him to touch him. Typical. He must have communicated his dismay somehow because he got another laugh before Tony disentangled himself and stood up. “Later,” he promised and held out a hand to help him up. “I wanted to take you out into the ocean in the middle of the night for ages and now’s the time. Come on, Stephen.”

Despite his age, the implants and all the pain that came with them Tony still was incredibly strong and had no problems with pulling Stephen up. He could probably carry Stephen anywhere he wished, even without the aid of the armor. So far Stephen had kept his fantasies along those lines a closely guarded secret but more and more often he thought about confessing them. By the looks Tony gave him it was clear he suspected something anyway.

The walk to the waterline was short and they took it in silence, with their hands entwined. Atypically for Tony he also stayed silent as they both undressed but as usual he was the first to finish. Instead of watching Stephen struggle with his clothes he looked out into the ocean.

“I’d love to take you right here, under the stars. But the sand would get everywhere and we don’t need that drama. And underwater sex is not what they told me it would be. I’m not subjecting you to that.” Tony shuddered theatrically and finally turned around to look at Stephen in all his naked glory. Including scars and trembling hands. He didn’t say anything about the way Stephen was rubbing his left wrist; he wasn’t used to have it bare anymore and he missed the slight extra stability the silk bonds gave him.

Stephen needed only a moment of contemplation. It would hurt nobody and barely required any effort on his part. He closed his eyes, forced his aching wrists to move the right way, and…

“One nice spot on the beach, guaranteed sand free,” he said, looking at his work. A rather big spot of beach where the sand had been magically forced to stay put, no matter what might be done with it. “And don’t tell me you don’t have everything else stashed somewhere. I know you.” A blanket, lubrication and whatever else Tony had deemed necessary for this little excursion. Knowing him there was half a house hidden behind the rocks around them.

Tony beamed at him. “Have I told you lately how much I love your magic?”

Stephen smiled back. “Once or twice.” It’s nothing you couldn’t have done yourself, once upon a time, he didn’t add. Those bridges had long since burned down and been washed away. “You can get everything ready here and meet me in the water later.” Without another glance in Tony’s direction he strode into the warm water and didn’t stop until he could barely stand anymore. He tilted his head back and stared up into the night sky. Waiting. For Tony. And whatever else his devious partner might have in store for him.

He half expected a half-serious complaint about leaving Tony to do all the work but to his surprise Tony stayed silent once again. Something was up, Stephen was more and more sure of that. Since the moment Tony had hesitantly brought up the possibility of getting away for a few days - no phones, no internet, not even FRIDAY, Stephen, I promise. I just want to spent some time with you and you alone - Stephen had the nagging feeling that there was more to the whole getaway than escape from the hellish cold of a New York winter. Just before, when he’d seen Tony on his knees before him, he’d thought he had finally figured it out but of course Tony had to surprise him once again.

“What is he up to?” he asked the stars above in a near silent whisper.

He felt more than heard Tony’s approach so he wasn’t surprised when he was once again taken into an embrace. Tony tended to hold on to him whenever possible, something that had started the moment Stephen had come back and which had only escalated from there. Since Stephen had learned to love being held at the same time it worked out wonderfully. Tony took them a little bit further toward the shore so that he could stand more securely. “Relax, I’ve got you.”

With his head on Tony’s shoulder it was even nicer to look up to the stars. “We were up there,” he finally said when Tony fell silent once again.

“Hmm.”

“It was beautiful.”

“And deadly.” Tony’s hold tightened, as always when he was reminded about the time Stephen had died in his arms. Stephen wanted to turn around to stand up but Tony held on and told him wordlessly to stay put. He bent down to whisper into Stephen’s ear: “But, yes, beautiful. Do you remember? We had our first argument out there, among the stars.” He laughed, even if it sounded a little bit forced, and, after a moment, Stephen joined him.

“It was almost romantic,” he allowed. “Aside from everything that was not.”

“The stars gave me you.” That wasn’t strictly true but Stephen didn’t care. The quietly spoken words were full of meaning and emotion. Stephen could feel tears threatening. He had no idea how to react since he still didn’t know what Tony wanted from him.

“If you want anything from me tonight you might want to change your approach,” he finally said and hated himself for still sounding a little bit choked. He finally closed his eyes, unwilling to let Tony see how glassy they were.

“I have you exactly where and how I want you.” Tony pressed a kiss against his temple while the hand not holding him in place wandered down to come to rest low on his stomach. Stephen’s interest was there, definitely, but his body hadn’t quite gotten the memo yet. He wasn’t worried. They had all the time in the world.

“Ready and willing to let you do anything to me?”

“Happy and relaxed, only in minimal discomfort.” Tony resisted any attempt to lighten the mood so this was important. Stephen had known that before, of course, but only now he began to fully understand the gravity of the situation. As if woken by Tony’s words his left wrist gave a slight twinge. He suppressed a sigh.

“Why are we here, Tony?” he finally asked the question that had been taunting him for the whole day.

“This is the closest we can come to the stars and be alone,” Tony said instead of answering. “If I could I would take you back out there to do it right but this is the next best thing.”

Yes. Stephen finally knew for sure where this was going. He hadn’t been wrong before, just a little bit too early. Slowly he turned around and stood up. Tony immediately shifted his hands so that he could still hold onto him. He gently brushed a strand of wet hair out of Stephen’s face. He looked nervous and a little afraid. “Will you marry me?”

A thousand answers, a few of them quite sharp, were on the tip of his tongue but in the end, Stephen decided against all of them and went for a simple “Yes”. He leaned in and whispered it against Tony’s lips just before kissing him, trusting Tony to hold them steady in the water while his hands explored the familiar body all over again.

A few minutes later Tony, who, as almost always, just knew what was going on in Stephen’s mind, carried him out of the water and laid him down on the waiting blanket on the beach. “I love you,” he said over and over again while putting a pliant Stephen into the black silk again. He repeated it as he, after careful preparation, finally pushed into Stephen while carefully holding on to his wrists. “I’m never letting you go again.”

Stephen, overwhelmed by pleasure and his own emotions still managed a “likewise” while wrapping his legs around Tony’s waist to hold him close.

The sound of Tony’s laugh echoing across the beach was the most wonderful sound in the universe.

💫

[muses-of-creation]

Thiefs

Our job was simple. Stealing magical artifacts from dangerous people and trying to not get killed or captured by a organization called Holy Trinity. Everything was going smoothly, until two devil hunters have butted in our job claiming we were demons. This is about a story about how a wizard and a necromancer got themselves into troubles with the two most dangerous devil hunters.

You can also read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18566482

Good reading~.

Dante had gotten a new job from Morrison. As much as he wanted to refuse it, Morrison again decided to cancel all pizza orders until he paid the bill in full. To add, Lady too had arrived, and made even more pressure, because of the debts Dante still owed her. With no choice, he went to the mansion Morrison had told him.

Much to his surprise, as he was approaching the mansion, he met an unexpected person. Nero was there, too. Dante greeted him “Hey Kid! What are you doing here?”

Nero sighed in a mixture of irritation and annoyance at the sight of Dante and said “A job. I hope you're not here for the same.”

"So it looks like we're going to have to work together because I have a job here, too." Dante announced, pointing to the mansion.

"Aren’t you too old to take jobs? You should be reforming soon.” Nero retorted not happy with the news.

"And miss all the fun? Do not even think about it. Rest assured I can still play with you. You don’t need to worry.” Said Dante back.

“Go back to sleep old man. I think you're already dreaming.” Said Nero, turning more and more irritated, walking to the gate of the mansion.

Dante laughed and followed him, ending up messing his hair up like Nero was a little kid. That was the end for Nero. If there weren’t so many people on the streets Nero had already started a fight there with Dante, which was what Dante probably wanted, but Nero wouldn’t let him win. He took Dante's arm by the wrist with Devil Bringer and warned him “You do that again, and I’ll rip your arm off.”

“You're in a bad mood, Kid.” Dante observed "recovering" his arm. "Kyrie is not satisfying you, or something like that?"

This made Nero very frustrated with such a question, especially since Dante was not ashamed to say such things wherever he went. Eventually Dante saw Nero’s face the color of his coat. To Nero's great salvation, a butler came to greet them at the gate, thus ending that conversation.

"Please come with me. My master is already waiting for you.” The butler announced with a bow.

Then he turned his back and began to guide them, first through the house, and then to the master's office.

"This rich people don’t have nothing else to do with money." Dante remarked as he watched the house, which was quite rich in pieces of art, but the architecture itself was rich.

“I just hope the work pays well.” Nero thought loudly, with little desire in having to share the reward.

Waiting for them was a man in front of a window. He wasn’t too tall, already old, probably in his seventies, almost eighty years. But he still had short brown hair, a little bald though. He was thin and wore round glasses with a golden wire frame. His eyes were already of a very dull green and he was dressed in a suit, leaning on a cane, which was equally rich, with embed designs and precious or semiprecious stones, like his collection and house.

As soon as he saw his guests, he smiled at them and asked for them to sit down, and they did it.

“Thank you very much for accepting my invitation. Can I offer you something?” Asked the man, in a sympathetic tone.

"If it's not too troublesome, we'd rather go into the details." Dante answered, trying not to be rude, which he failed miserably.

“Of course.” The man nodded, making a sign to the butler, who brought a box with a bracelet that looked quite simple with a pink stone in the center and the rest made of silver. "I got this recently, but I'm afraid about what might happen to it.”

"It sounds simple enough.” Nero remarked in his ignorance.

"That's because you don’t know the true value of it." said the man in a rather rude manner, as well as incredulous with his ignorance.

"Are you saying the bracelet is cursed?" Nero tried to figure it out.

“Nothing like that. And it's a bangle bracelet, not just a bracelet.” Corrected the man. "It may not seem so, but despite its simple appearance, behind it hides a great power. Because of this I fear that it will catch the eye of demons.

“As well?” This time it was Dante who asked, because he didn’t see where the man wanted to go either.

"Haven’t you heard of the demons who steal artifacts? Usually are two, but sometimes four.” Said the man. "I've heard several stories, and several of my friends have been stolen by them.”

"I'm sorry, but we kill demons, we don’t catch thieves. So… you should go to the police.” Commented Dante.

"I don’t think I'm explaining myself well then." The man looked a little unhappy. “Everything happens supernaturally.”

"You'll have to do better if you want to convince us that these thieves are demons." Nero announced.

“I can see it. Usually they’re never seen, very strange things happen when they steal the pieces, like sudden descents of temperatures...” the man began.

"Now it looks like we're talking about ghosts. Not yet our category.” Interrupted Dante.

"No. To solve this, they need an exorcist.” Completed Nero.

The man took a deep breath trying to not to get angry and continued his explanation, as if they hadn’t said anything. "The security systems don’t pick up anything, but the piece from one moment to the other disappears.”

"They still look like ghosts to me." Dante interrupted the man again.

“Can you let me finish?!” Asked the man already angry, eventually losing all his composure.

Both Dante and Nero were silent. The man cleared his throat and continued what he was saying "When they’re confronted, they usually kill everyone in a real bloodbath, or in a rather painful way, like burned alive, melted with poison, among other types of deaths, which have been recorded. No matter what you try, they always end up having what they want. And as they appear, they disappear without leaving any trace.”

“Registered? Are you saying they recorded all the deaths that happened?” Asked Nero, somewhat surprised.

"Yes, just like the robbery happened. If you want, I can give you those records.” Said the man.

"Then let us see those records, and then we'll talk." Asked Dante not believing the man's word.

The man gave the butler a new signal and he fetched a tablet with all the videos and files that had been spoken. The butler handed them the tablet and Nero picked it up so they could see. After watching the videos, they were practically convinced.

"I'll pay you whatever you need for your services. But please get rid of them. It has been very difficult to live in the Art Market in this way.” Asked the man again, half desperate for not being able to see if they would accept it or not.

“Worth trying.” Decided Nero.

“As long as I receive my reward in the end…It's fine by me.” Dante agreed.

And so, they sealed the deal there. All that was left was to know when the attack was going to take place.

 §§§§§

I was surfing in the internet when I got new information about a magical artifact that had recently moved. I saw everything that was accompanying the photograph of the artifact. As always came with the purchase invoice of the object, which ended up giving the rest of the information. From the invoice I looked for the rest and found the place where the person lived, only needed to do the rest of the recognition, including see if Inna was interested too.

As soon as she reached the cafe, where we had arranged to meet, I turned the computer over to her and announced “Just look at what just came.”

“Uh ~. New artifact?” She asked excited.

“Yup. I haven’t yet seen which artifact is, or what it does, but I’ve already found who has it and where it lives.” I told her.

"Then we must deal with the rest." Inna decided.

"I was just waiting to see if you'd be interested in participating." I said.

“Of course, I am. It's been a while since the last.” Said Inna clearly annoyed.

“Unfortunately, or fortunately this is how this market works.” I nodded.

“Tonight?” She asked, referring to the house of the new owner of the artifact to analyze the situation and how we would make the robbery plan.

“Sure.” I nodded.

“By the way. Do you think the Holy Trinity is also behind this one?” Asked Inna. "He seems to be one of those who, though simple, is very powerful."

“That's because it is. We'll probably have some fun.” I concluded with a smile.

“I hope so. I need to exercise a little.” Said Inna, smiling, pleased with the novelty.

I laughed and commented “I thought you had become sedentary.”

“Look who's talking.” She retorted. “Just because of this, I give up being sedentary. I hope at least someday I'll find that damn artifact.”

"I'm sure we'll find it sooner or later. Aside from that Catherine and Asura also have an eye on it.” I said.

"Yes. Although they prefer to go around killing demons, rather than artifacts.” Inna wasn’t very confident in them.

"In the end, we're going to be adventurers like Lara Croft, or Nathan Drake." I tried to cheer her up.

“Indiana Jones to by the way.” Added Inna.

“Of course. Who refuses such an adventure?” I asked.

We laughed and we still spent time at the cafe, not only to enjoy the excellent cakes they had, but also the drinks, because they’re divine. In the meantime, we also made more research not only on the artifact itself, but also on the man and his own house.

Ah! Do you want to know the name of the rich man? Fine. His name is Arthur Smith. A not very sociable man who lived basically from his large private collection of art, always looking for more. That's how he got the artifact. The artifact was going to be auctioned, but because he knew the auctioneer, he got it before it was even announced for the next auction, so there were no records of it.

The Magic Academy was where I got the information. It is an organization of protection of magical artifacts, that tries to find them and to surrender them to its rightful owners, or to whom they must belong. Trying to the maximum that they’re used by the wrong people, or even coming into the hands of demons, or the Holy Trinity.

The Holy Trinity is basically the opposite of the former. All that matters to them is to have the power and the maximum knowledge possible to serve their own ends. Thanks to this, we came across them a lot of times and things didn’t go very well, because usually they ended up dead. This made us targets for them. They aren’t only interested in artefacts, but also work with demons, even protect them. Nothing that seemed like the relationship of necromancers with their demons.

Usually the artifacts we steal are already in someone's hands. Even if someone doesn’t know the power he has in his hands. In these cases, the Magic Academy usually deals with these people and ends up giving you an even more valuable offer than the artifact has for these people, only when the Trinity interferes is when someone has to steal it.

Usually it's just me and Inna who do this, but there are two other girls who sometimes help us, Catherine and Asura. Sometimes we end up with the artifacts, because we liked them, the ones we did not like, we give them to the Magic Academy, just the way they wanted it, since they don’t know everything we steal.

We started this because each of us is looking for a specific artifact. In the case of the Inna, is one that is useful to her, because it is an artifact for necromancers that had been in the possession of her master / father, but eventually disappeared. And mine, is one that is specific to me, a wizard, that by chance my grandpa had been looking for him for a long time.

As agreed, that evening, we met at Arthur Smith's house and began to see how we were going to prepare the plan. See what kind of security the house had, how could we get into the grounds where the house was, in which part of the house was the artifact. That kind of boring stuff.

Unfortunately, it took us longer than we’d thought, and it took all night for that because it’s huge. The artifact was in what we took to be a secret mini-library. While I was checking the security where the box was, Inna began to walk, to see what could be there of interest to steal. She reached the desk there and saw an envelope on the table with a seal, which she recognized immediately.

“Rin-chan. Look at this.” Said Inna, showing me the envelope seal.

“Holy Trinity.” I said as soon as I saw the design of the seal.

"It seems that this gentleman here has connections with them." Inna concluded.

“Yeah. I just hope it gives us enough time to steal this.” I said.

"Unfortunately, I cannot say that. Only the envelope is here.” Inna observed. "But that just means we're going to have to steal it tomorrow."

I agreed and we finished everything we had to do there. Now that we had everything done it was easy to draw the plan and we could put it into practice the next night.

The next night we met at the point that had been marked as the meeting place. This time we were fully prepared to make the assault. We even had brought our firearms, which they usually have magical ammunition, because if there were human beings ignorant of the dark edge of the world, we could not use magic to deal with them. The most troublesome would be if the Holy Trinity appeared, after all the work we’d done to be the ones claiming the prize, but in a situation like that, we could use magic at will.

Inna had Lapuree with her to serve as a flying watchman, who was a dragon demon still small, but looked more like a butterfly demon. I did all the spells I knew so we wouldn’t be easily noticed and we could go into the woods and head for the house. Fortunately, everything was as before, which meant that we hadn’t been noticed the night before, and there was still no sign of the Holy Trinity.

We entered the secret mini-library carefully and there was nothing different from yesterday. I took the gadget out of the box and slipped it into a concealed coat pocket, where I was sure nothing was going to happen to it. After this we hastened to get out of there.

We were once again walking through the forest toward our exit, when shots were fired in our direction from our two sides. Luckily Lapuree was more noticeable than us and warned us, giving us enough time to get away. It wasn’t normal to leave anyone to tell the story, much less someone who had noticed us like that, which meant that they couldn’t be normal humans.

We changed our trajectory and shortly after we reached a glade, we stopped with our backs to each other, in the center. We grabbed our firearms, in the case of Inna a shotgun, and in my case one of the pistols, and each one of us pointed at his sniper.

They came out of the forest with their guns pointed at us, too, but they did not fire. They were two white-haired men, but one was older and had a very stylish red coat, and the other was younger and had a shiny arm.

Lapuree was sitting on Inna's head. She made a few sounds, which meant she had something to say, but only Inna noticed and understood.

"She said one of them is half demon, and the other is only a quarter." She translated Lapuree so I could understand.

That was in the minimum curious, and I bet Inna thought the same thing. But there was no time to think about it. They advanced toward us, until they saw a pleasant distance of safety. We watched them, trying to read what their next step was.

“Look that! It's just two girls.” Said the man in a red coat, clearly happy, but in a tone that seemed to degrade us.

"Let's see if these girls can’t be smarter than you”. Inna threatened, disliking his tone.

One thing was for sure, our main goal was to get away. We could not afford to take too long, otherwise the Holy Trinity would appear and make everything more complicated.

“Calm down, babe.” Asked the man, laughing at her attitude.

Inna liked even less than he said this time, eventually giving a shotgun shot, which passed close to his head, since the goal was not to kill him until he proved what they were.

“Don’t call me that!” She warned him.

In response the man whistled and made another comment, but was interrupted by the other man with the luminous arm "Yet they are demons and they are our targets.”

“Devils?” We both asked, clearly confused by the revelation.

But instead of someone giving us an explanation, the man in the red coat said “You're no fun Kid. Here we are. With two cute girls and you don’t care.”

"And one of them has already shot you and is still pointing a gun at you." He twitched the other rolling his eyes.

"I knew I should have shot him in the head.” Said Inna more and more annoyed that we were wasting time there. “Can I kill him?”

“No.” I answered. “That's not what we’re here for”.

"So, we created a new goal.” Inna tried again.

"That will only make us wasting more time." I protested.

"Let's try to do things well.” Said the man in the red coat. "You give us what you have stolen and you can come back to your life.”

"They are demons. You never can get things right.” Retorted the other.

“This is ridiculous.” I announced with a sigh because they continued to call us demons.

“At least we have two hot guys following us.” Commented Inna.

“Seriously?” I asked.

“What? We'll never have such handsome men behind us except for this.” She twisted, seizing the moment for a few seconds.

“Can we go now?” I asked already annoyed.

“Sure.” Inna agreed.

"No." said the two men.

“Fine.” We said both at the same time.

But we didn’t want to know what they wanted, or they didn’t want to. As a distraction we put down our weapons. Just when they were distracted by it, it was time for us to run again in different directions, to get out of there. Still they responded quickly, eventually intercepting us again.

“Already leaving us? The party is about to start.” Commented the man in the red coat to Inna.

“Sorry, but we have to attend another one.” Inna answered with a fake smile, bringing up her naginata, to see if she could make a way to go.

“I won’t let you go.” Said the other man who stopped me.

“Oh yeah? I want to see you try.” I turned back in a defiant tone and smiled, making my sword appear.

They also took each one their swords and we started a fight. If we did a battle of skill and strength, they won clearly, but that wasn’t our fighting style, either. Inna called one of her demons, Alvaro, who was a gunslinger, which made the man in the red coat protest “That's not fair.”

Except that the moment he finished speaking, he was shot in the middle of the forehead by Alvaro.

“Alvaro!” Protested Inna.

"Lady, I know that's what you wanted to do from the start” Alvaro declared with a smile.

“That hurts!” Protested the man in the red coat rubbing his forehead.

This was something that surprised her immensely, because he was supposed to be death, but there he was as if he’d never been shot in the head. They returned to fight each other, but this time Inna began to use also magic to fight, being able to stand better against him.

In my case I started to use the elements in my favor, starting with fire. He was avoiding everything, but my goal was not to hit him, it was too warm his sword hilt. It worked because he finally dropped his sword. This gave me the opportunity I expected, to make my next attack. What I wasn’t expecting was that he would defend himself with the luminous arm, as if it were nothing.

“Let's get this over with.” He said, opening and closing his hand, which now I could see it wasn’t human.

He was going to attack with that little hand from the distance we were, so I formed a shield, defending his attack still with some ease.

“Interesting.” I watched his arm with a smile. "That's really interesting."

“Do you want to taste it?” He asked as he attacked me again.

“If you can get it right.” I challenged him again, this time diverting.

We weren’t going anywhere if we continued this way. Unlike them, we were growing tired and we were already feeling the consequences of it, eventually being pushed back to where we started. Each of us picked up our guns again, but instead of firing at our opponent, we fired at our opposing opponent, which worked. Because the bullets we used were magical we did them some damage.

"How fair is that?" Protested the man with the luminous arm, a little irritated by it.

"You men do not swallow your pride and bow before the circumstances." Said Inna.

“We observe and execute what is best suited to the situation.” I added.

The man in the red coat snapped his sword on the ground and leaned on her, laughing.

“Because of this… it was worth the job.”

He was going to attack us again, but at that moment the Inna ninja immersed and threw one of her smoke bombs to the ground while I did a quick teleportation spell. Unfortunately, I couldn’t do it outside.

"Since our situation could not be better…" Inna began, looking at a spot.

I looked and what I saw there was demons.

“It's perfect.” I commented sarcastically.

“We'd better be quick on this.” Alvaro advised us. "They're already coming our way."

“Wow! How annoying!” I protested already without patience.

"At least they're handsome, but this time I have to agree with you." Said Inna.

We defeated the demons that were there, and we were on our way again, for new demons to appear.

"Do not tell me they smelled the artifact!" Protested Inna.

"They shouldn’t!" I replied. “I took all precautions!”

We got rid of the demons and we met again with our two stalkers.

“Seriously?!” Asked Inna, clearly irritated.

“Our luck is fantastic.” I sighed.

"If you want something with me, you first call me on a date, and then we can talk." Said Inna.

“They are more like ex boyfriends who never leave.” I retorted.

“Seriously? So, you wanna go out with me, babe?” Asked the man in the red coat with a smile.

“Enough!” Exclaimed the man with the luminous arm.

"Demons killing other demons. This is rare now.” Commented the man in the red coat.

“Okay. Now you're going to have to explain it.” Started Inna. "I know I invoke demons, but being one it's still going a long way. Or does this make me one?

"You aren’t a demon, but you have the personality of one, so ..." I said.

“I'll kill you.” Inna looked at me with a murderous look.

"Kill them, not me."  I asked innocently.

“Stop it!” He ordered clearly angry.

“Wait. Aren’t you demons?” Asked the man in the red coat, now confused.

"That's obvious!" Protested Inna.

"Just because we use magic doesn’t mean we are demons.” I added.

"But you killed humans." Nero retorted, not convinced.

"He must be speaking of the Holy Trinity." Inna remembered. "The time we went to one's house, remember?"

“Ah! That time. But how do they know that?” I asked.

"Stop talking like we're not here!" Exclaimed the man with the luminous arm.

“It’s all recorded on video.” Replied the man in the red coat.

“What?!” We both said both clearly surprised.

“That’s is impossible! That means ..." I thought, but I had no time for anything.

The next moment I was shot in the left shoulder, putting me on my knees on the floor. It had not been any of the men and Inna just didn’t take one either because Alvaro was faster, yet she carried one in the leg from another angle. We turned to see who the snipers had been, to meet some people in suit.

“Thank you for your cooperation.” thanked a woman with glasses and a ponytail. “Demon hunters Dante and Nero.”

"What's going on here?" Demanded the man with the luminous arm.

“Holy Trinity.” I said as I tried to get me back on my feet with one hand where I had taken the shot.

“Ruby Campbell.” Said the woman, turning to me with a sadistic smile.  “Do you like our latest bullets? They are made of iron, so your magical abilities won’t work. And the same goes for you Inna Walker.” She said, turning to the Inna.

"You ..." Inna was about to start cursing.

Alvaro was about to shoot them, but he eventually disappeared, making Inna extremely surprised.

"We have our own measures against necromancers.” Said the woman.  “Take them.”

"Why not kill us already?" Inna asked irritated.

"Because you’re useful to us alive.” Replied the woman.

The men who were with her were going to get us, but the man in the red coat gave a shot that killed one of them.

“What do you think you're doing?” Asked the woman, unhappy with his attitude.

“I'm so sorry, my finger slipped.” He replied.

Then the other man stretched and shot in the other. “Ups. My bad. He excused himself.”

"If that's what you want. You don’t even need to be paid." Said the woman, taking a whip.

The men who were with her also prepared to fight. But before they could do anything, they were all unconscious. And when the man in the red coat came to the woman's feet, which was already leaning against the trunk of a tree, he declared "We don’t like being deceived. Our job is to kill demons, not to kill humans.”

And then he put her unconscious. While Inna was in charge of killing some of the men with my pistol, I used my sword to form a spell that killed the rest, including the woman. This caused me to start bleeding from the nose because I was going beyond the limits I could get with an iron bullet on my shoulder. I took the rest I had to freeze my right shoulder so I could not feel any pain.

“Why have you done that?” Asked the man with the luminous arm.

"They're not human anymore. Apart from that it would give us a lot of work if they were still alive.” I explained.

The man in the red coat crouched at the foot of the Inna and went to take her in his lap, but she pointed the pistol at his head, asking "What are you going to do now?"

"We have no reason to kill you. You’re not demons.” He replied.

"If you'd heard us from the beginning, you'd known that for a long time.” I said.

“Yeah. That's why we have to help you now.” He said, carrying Inna in bride style, not caring about the pistol she was aiming at him.

“Get off me!” Inna protested, trying to shoot him, but he swerved.

“Let us help you.” Asked the man with the luminous arm.

"It's not like we can fight any more.” I gave up, managing to get up at great cost.

"Do you have somewhere to stay?" Asked the man in the red coat.

“It's too far.” I said, almost losing my balance if it were not for the man with the luminous arm.

“Okay. Then let's go.” Said the man in the red coat, starting to walk.

“Where do you think you're taking me?!” Protested Inna.

"It's not on a date now, babe.” Replied the man in the red coat. “To my store.”

I followed him with the help of the man with the luminous arm. Fortunately, such a store was not far away. When we got there the man in the red coat sat Inna on the couch and I let myself sit on the floor without further strength.

“What do we do now?” Asked the man with the luminous arm concerned.

“That’s the question.” Said the man in the red coat, still thinking about it.

I remembered the artifact in the pocket of my coat and pulled it out to see if it was everything okay with it. Luckily it was intact and it felt good to have it in my hand. At that moment something occurred to me.

“Help me.” I asked the man with the luminous arm with a signal.

He was kind of confused yet it helped me to get up and get to Inna.

“What are you going to do?” Inna asked with a little fear. “You're dangerous.”

I laughed unhappily and then I said "I think you're going to want to bite something."

I put the bracelet on my right wrist and felt magic returning to my body, also lifting some of the tiredness. Inna was suddenly scared, yet there wasn’t much she could do. I placed my right hand over the bullet wound on her leg and created a kind of ice box around the bullet, since iron and magic do not mix. When I finished, I left a kind of handle coming out of the wound.

"Does anyone want to do the honors?" I asked.

"I think I'd better do it." Replied Inna after recovering from the pain created by the ice.

"Then whenever you want." I said. “Just pull.”

Inna picked it up and started to pull. It was better if it was pulled quickly, but the body wouldn’t respond as she wanted, although as she was doing so, I was using the magic of the artifact to drastically accelerate the healing process. When she had finished pulling, the wound was already closed.

“At least some luck in the middle of everything.” She said with some difficulty.

“It’s true. Who would have thought it was a supporting artifact.” I nodded.

The men were stunned to look at us. But I was still missing, which was going to be slightly more complicated. I defrosted my left shoulder and did the same thing I had done to Inna, the only difference being that I was feeling everything now. At the end of everything I fainted exhausted with everything that had happened that day.

When I woke up again, I was still on the floor, but there was a woman I did not know next to me, but she seemed to be taking care of me. She smiled to see that I was awake and announced “You’re awake.”

I sat down and checked the spot where I had taken the shot, seeing that it was flawless. I looked at her again and asked “Who are you?”

“Ah! Excuse. My name is Kyrie.” She said with a smile. “Your friend is awake too.”

I looked at the place she pointed out and saw Inna eating something that smelled pretty good, like she hadn’t eaten in a week.

“Ruby.” I introduced myself.

“Nice to meet you. Come on, you must eat too.” She said, taking my hands, leading me to the table where Inna was eating.

“Rin-chan!” She exclaimed, only realizing that I had woken up when I got to her.

“Heya.” I said back seeing what the food was.

“This food is fantastic.” Said Inna, eating more.

“Thanks.” thanked Kyrie.

I started to eat and saw that Inna was really right, that food was very good. We ended up eating everything that was there, which made Kyrie surprised, but at the same time very happy. That was also the time when the men arrived.

“We're home.” Announced the one with the luminous arm.

“Welcome back.” Kyrie said with a smile.

“Hey! Where is the food?!” Asked the man in the red coat, looking shocked at the table.

"They ate everything.” Kyrie answered.

“What do you mean?” Asked the man with the bright arm in disbelief.

We looked like two little children looking at them making innocent eyes, as if it were nothing to do with us.

"I've noticed that you two are already fine.” Concluded the man in the red coat.

“Ready for another.” Agreed Inna.

“Please no.” I asked.

We all laughed at each other, only getting Kyrie out because she wasn’t sure what had happened that night.

“We never got to introduce ourselves. Dante.” Announced the man in the red coat.

“Nero” said the Bright arm men.

“Inna.” Inna introduced herself.

“Ruby.” I introduced myself. "Thank you for helping us yesterday."

"Though that situation could have been avoided, if they hadn’t appeared.” Added Inna.

“We already apologized. Okay, babe?” Dante defended himself.

“My name is Inna. Remember it at least.” She asked.

“But it's true. If it was only me, I would’ve known at once you weren’t demons and none of this had happened.” Agreed Nero.

"Are you blaming me now, Kid?" Dante asked.

“I'm just stating a fact.” He defended himself.

"Just because you have an arm who can detect demons, doesn’t mean it illegals you from what happened yesterday. You're as guilty as I am.” Said Dante.

They started arguing there, if it had not been for me. Hearing that last piece of information about Nero's arm, I looked at Inna who had also been surprised. I went to his feet and took him by the hand and began to see the differences, causing him to be surprised.

“Excuse me.” I asked, dropping his hand. "Like I said yesterday you have a very interesting hand."

“Thanks?” He said, not sure what to say.

"Well ... Now that's settled. We can leave.” Said Inna, rising without further delay.

“True.” I nodded.

“Hey! What about my date?” Dante was shocked by the revelation.

“What date?” Asked Inna, confused. “Wait? Were you really serious yesterday?”

“Of course, Babe.” He answered without further delay.

"I'll think about it. It's just that I usually don’t accept invitations from guys who tried to kill me the night before.” Said Inna with a smile.

We all laugh at that situation, except for Dante.

"But what was that yesterday?" Asked Nero, still curious about what had happened.

We looked at each other, wondering if we should tell or not. But as they technically saved us, we thought it was the least we could do.

“Well ... If you ever need anything, call Devil May Cry.” Dante announced with a smile, sitting on his desk, putting his feet on top of it.

“Devil May Cry?” We both asked at the same time.

“That's where we are.” Replied Nero.

“Sure.” We agreed with a smile.

"And if you need…" Inna said, writing her number on a piece of paper.

“Babe! I mean, you don’t want to go out with me, but you give me your phone number.” Commented Dante.

"Just call if you have to, you idiot." She said, already a little irritated.

“Here.” I handed one with mine, too. "Usually we only steal magic artifacts, but whatever magic deals with, we accept."

“Even kill some demons.” Inna concluded.

We departed from them and left as if we had known each other long ago.

“Hey. Do you think he was really serious when he called me on a date?” Asked Inna on our way home.

“Who knows. Were you interested in him? For someone who wanted to kill him yesterday… it's a drastic change.” I commented.

“Shut it. He's hot.” Asked Inna.

“I know he is.” I agreed.

“And you, huh? Aren’t you interested in Nero?” Asked Inna.

“Even if I had. I'm sure that girl is his girlfriend.” He said without much ado.

“How do you know that?” She asked.

"The way they were looking at each other?" I replied.

"You're not so blind after all." Inna looked.

“HEY! If you already knew why you asked?!” I protested.

"You might not have noticed and said something like, He's so handsome I’m sure he has a girlfriend.” Inna explained.

“You ...” I was going to insult her.

“What? In love everything is worth. Never say no before you try.” She declared.

“Yeah yeah.”

And so we made our way to our houses, where we were still considering whether we stayed with an artifact as useful as that, or whether we would deliver it to the Academy of Magic.

[ladyloveandjustice]

Fall 2018 Anime Overview: Continuing Series- Golden Kamuy Season 2 and Banana Fish

Golden Kamuy Season 2

If you enjoyed the first season, this is pretty much more of the same, so check out my review of season one to know what to expect.

Though I guess you could say this portion of the season DOES lean even harder into weirdness than the first one did. There’s not many anime where you’ll see two dudes having the time of their lives modeling fashionable outfits made out of human skin, which include...crotch appendages...only in Golden Kamuy y’all.

Interestingly bizarreness tends to overlap with queerness a lot in this season and its hard to know how to feel about it. For instance, it’s definitely an unexpected revelation that dudes are attracted to Lieutenant Tsurumi like whoa. 

IDK apparently he’s a catch. Half of his subordinates are in love with him. It’s handled as comical and of course the dudes are mentally unbalanced weirdos (as is everyone in Golden Kamuy except Asirpa and Sugimoto only sometimes) and one of them dies, but the show is never overtly mean to them either. Nobody acts disgusted about it and when one character observes the attraction, he basically shrugs about it.

 Satoru Noda apparently also REALLY loose with his fixation with dudes muscles with this part of the story, to the point we got the beef-cakiest hotsprings episode I’ve ever seen, which includes an extended fight scene where the male characters were naked throughout. There’s also an entire scene where apparently otter meat is an aphrodisiac that causes the dudes to be really into each other, so they engage in nearly naked sumo wrestling.

This is all clearly supposed to be wacky and funny, but at the same time it’s pretty clear the mangaka must REALLY LIKE drawing these scenes of muscular, naked men, and I support him following his dreams. Also I won’t deny it’s refreshing to see a hot springs episode where not a single woman got objectified, but there was dude oglin’ a plenty. It healed me a little.

I guess while we’re talking about this show and its weird relationship with queerness I should reporting that my prediction was right and the trans woman I mentioned in the previous review did become an ally. Her transness hasn’t been bought up again (though for some reason the subs decided to switch to “he” despite sticking with “she” before) and her role is pretty minor, she does reveal she’s skilled in both cooking and surgery (because she likes dismembering people) and talks about how great it would be to see people murdered every so often, so pretty much more of the same.

And that’s really all there is to say. Golden Kamuy has only gotten weirder and the plot only more convoluted (I’m starting to have a hard time keeping track of the characters tbh), but it’s an entertaining story and there’s still characters with resonance and heart underneath it all (the scene where Sugimoto discusses his trauma from being in the war with Asirpa genuinely tugged a heartstring. These two are still great and have really settled into a kinda of adorable dad-daughter dynamic at this point) and the historical and cultural research that went into this story is still amazing. 

I can tell the anime’s still skipping a lot of the manga (most of volume 7 was completely skipped), but since the English release of the manga is so slow, I’m happy to watch it in the meantime. It helps that the show has a bangin’ soundtrack and and it managed to pull its ginormous cast together for some truly exciting and action packed final episodes that left me eager for more. 

Banana Fish (13-24)

Again, if you read my review for the first half of the show, you can basically expect more of the same, both with the good and especially the bad parts. We do get more downtime with Ash and Eiji’s relationship, and they continued to make me think this show would be so much better if it focused more on these quiet scenes rather than on piling as much trauma on Ash as it possibly can. 

I think this second half did allow me to see what was compelling about Ash and Eiji’s relationship and why it’s stayed with so many people. When Ash explained that he’s finally found someone who will love him without expecting anything in return, so of course he’s willing to do anything for that person, that got me in the heart. Ash is someone who has either been viewed as a threat or someone to exploit- he’s especially used to being treated like he’s nothing more than a body, a receptacle for desires. Eiji isn’t afraid of Ash, or in awe of him, and never asks anything of him other than for him to be okay and by his side. Ash genuinely can just be a dumb teenager with him while he can’t with anyone else. Eiji is an outsider, to Ash’s gang-bangin’ world, to his culture in general, and that allows him to see Ash as he truly is, just a kid who needs to get out of this mess.

The romantic in me really loves that concept, and as an ace person, I especially connect to the underlying implication that Eiji is a romantic partner who isn’t going to demand sex from Ash or try to force him into it. Though Ash’s implied desire to avoid sex almost certainly stems from trauma, I know how he feels in a broad sense. And I think it’s a thing a lot of women can relate to even if they aren’t ace, wanting to find a relationship where they aren’t used or objectified, so it goes back around to how Ash acts as kind of a representation for the anxieties and desires of (likely) the mangaka and many women despite being a male character, and I still find that very interesting. The scene where Ash has a complete breakdown and screams at his rapist while laughing hysterically was really affecting.

So there’s moments of real resonance here, but is it worth the bullshit surrounding it, which includes every single gay man being represented as a rapist, to the point a gay bar is connected to a child porn ring? The nasty implication that gay sex is inherently evil and non-consensual, and Ash and Eiji’s relationship is only okay because they’re not doing it is very strong, and as much as this ace appreciates a romance that doesn’t require sex, I don’t want it THIS way.

There’s also some SERIOUS anti-Semitic bullshit that I can’t believe MAPPA didn’t edit out in a couple episodes. Like it would have been so easy to cut. Also some more pretty rough scenes of black men being murdered (they’re extras this time at least, and the main black dude for this part of the anime miraculously manages to both survive and not be an offensive caricature. Also his name is Cain Blood which is the best name in this story, and possibly ever). 

The second half of the anime also involved some of the more absurd elements worsening. I got REALLY tired of every character commenting on how hot and amazing Ash is like. I GET IT.  Also Ash’s life of being sexually exploited somehow gives him the ability to seduce any man holding him captive, and every bad guy is down for raping a teenage boy, I guess. It’s actually again, a little surreal to see these tropes with a male character. I’m used to seeing hot female characters who’ve been through sexual trauma and have magic seduction powers and are endlessly drooled over...I almost want guys to watch these segments so they can see how uncomfortable it feels when the tables are turned. 

There’s also some really good examples of ACTUAL jarring tone shifts, where the anime really fails to land some of its attempts at a funny, light moment in the midst of really tense and tragic situations. I think it’s possible the manga managed this better, but I can’t imagine the “joke” where Ash has to crossdress and a male doctor gropes him and Ash punches him out cold and his friends chortle and tell him he’s not a gentle woman could ever be done in a non jarring way. Like, I don’t like sexual harassment humor in anime at the best of times, but it’s especially bad when the person who is harassed has been raped more times than he can count.  We’re expected to take that seriously, but not this, because Ash is in a dress? It’s also like, appalling that his friends who are fully aware of his history would laugh about him getting assaulted again. It’s a moment that feels like it comes from a completely different anime. 

So um, yeah. My conclusion is those resonant moments are not worth the bullshit. The ending really cemented this for me. I had an (admittedly overly flippant) reaction that kind of sums my feelings up. Let’s just say I HATE meaningless cruel tragedy for the sake of tragedy, and I especially hate the implication abuse victims can never find happiness. 

I can’t say Banana Fish is an anime I’ll think fondly of or recommend. I do still find the discussion about it interesting, much more interesting than the actual story (as presented in the anime, again, haven’t read the manga), tbh. And I can see the seeds of a good story there, and I can understand why fans would want to see a reboot that truly modernized the story, cutting out the worst stuff and giving it a better ending, while keeping the resonance of the main relationship and the good characters (I really did like Sing, and Yut Lung was interesting. Shorter and Skip both deserved way better. Also Jessica, who at least got to do something besides be victimized at the last minute. One whole female character got a few moments of agency. Hallelujah.) Maybe someday it will happen. 

In the meantime, there’s a bunch of cool articles on Banana Fish that are worth a read. All of the pieces published on animefeminist as well as this post on Otaku, She Wrote are really informative, illuminating, and break down a lot of the issues I found here.

[the-marvel-imagines-blog]

Madness | Chpt. 3

Requests are Open

Chapter Title: “Little Wolf”

Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character

Word Count: 7,257

Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of character death, survivors guilt.

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

A/N: Once again, ya’ll are amazing. Thank you so much for reading. If there’s something you like or don’t like, let me know. I always look forward to compliments or constructive criticism <3

Tagged: @teddyboobear (anyone who wants to be tagged can message me and ask. It’s not a problem at all)

Our hands brushed against each other’s as we laid in the cool grass that had been shielded from much of the sunlight during the day thanks to the trees that stood almost as tall as the pillars in the throne room. The blades of grass seemingly sang to us as they brushed against each other with as much delicacy as my hand against his. As I craned my neck to the side, ignoring the stars in the night sky for a moment, I gazed into the eyes of the brightest star of them all. Loki. I didn’t know how long he had been staring at me, but it had been long enough for my face to flush with color. His lips pulled up into a cheeky grin, and I was reminded of a time when we were children. It was seldom that we didn’t watch the stars with each other at night.

When we were children, we both watched the stars together. As we grew up, we found ourselves watching each other more often than not. I loved watching him as he gazed up at the stars, amazement overcoming his features. To those who didn’t know him the way I did, Loki was cold and logical. I saw a different man. He was poetic and sensitive. He was beautiful and warm. In that moment, he looked at me the same way he used to look at the stars, with a burning question in his eyes that said, “how was something so perfect created from nothing at all?” And that was why I became bashful.

For a moment, we laid in complete silence just staring at each other. What started as a night of appreciating the beauty that nature had to offer was quickly turning into something so much more than that. When he noticed the glint of reluctance in my eyes, he silenced every doubt with a look of mischief and thrill as he intertwined our fingers. At the time, I was sure it was to cause me some sort of discomfort or to fuel the fire of embarrassment. However, it was because he wanted to feel me the same way I wanted to feel him. As those slender fingers intertwined with mine, I felt myself pushing my body closer to his, leaving almost no space between the God of Mischief and myself.

A piece of me tried to pass off the gesture as something much more innocent than what my own mind was trying to conjure up, but an even larger piece of me knew that this was the start of something I didn’t know if I was ready for. I didn’t know if I wanted to risk the relationship I had with my best friend for something that felt so trivial at the time. However, I could no longer fight off feelings that had been present since the very beginning. We had already pushed the boundaries too far on nights we were feeling unstoppable, and they were some of the best nights of my life. As he held my hand in his own, I tested the waters by giving it a gentle squeeze, seeing that the effect was a playful grin from him. The mischief melted away from his eyes, and he radiated the warmth and compassion I knew him for.

He rolled over onto his side, and I followed him, completely in sync with his motions. Our hands stayed connected and continued to rest in the grass. His other hand reached up to brush the stray strands of hair from my face as he gently caressed my cheek with every motion. His touch was featherlight and filled with tenderness and love. I leaned into his touch and reached up to rest my free hand against his cheek. My fingers danced along the soft skin beneath the tips of my fingers. I took note of his sharp jawline, his chiseled cheekbones, and every dip and angle in his perfect face. Each feature was burned into my memory from the countless years admiring him and touching him. There was only a single patch of his skin that my fingers hadn’t already travelled, and I was certain that the day would someday come for that as well.

“You are so beautiful, my lady,” he finally spoke, a voice that felt like velvet as the warmth of his breath cascaded across my face. He drew even closer to me as his eyes flickered over my face to see that my cheeks burned with diffidence. He knew what his words did to me, but he couldn’t help himself. I could feel that he was speaking his truth when words of praise spilled from his lips for me. I knew that he told me no lies, but I still felt like I was undeserving of his admiration. To me, no one would ever be deserving of something so pure from him, for he was the closest to perfect one could get. I wanted to keep him pure and unscathed, which was why I protected him. Maybe that was why he also protected me.

The sides of my lips tugged up into a shy smile, “you cannot admire the stars if your eyes are on me.”

He chuckled, “you act as if you don’t already know,” he spoke, pressing his forehead against my own. It was something he did often when we were alone. The closeness allowed me to breathe in the scent of him. He smelled of the breeze when it rolled through the forest, carrying the smell of nature with it. He smelled like life, which had no particular scent but freshness. I couldn’t help but close my eyes and smile as I felt our energies bleeding into one another. I nuzzled my face even closer to his, our noses grazing against each others. Sensing that there was still space left, he tilted his head ever so slightly to bring our faces impossibly closer.

When I realized what we were doing, I spoke, “what of the stars, Loki?” I asked, reminding him that his attention should not be wasted on me. Still, I didn’t move from my position, feeling alive once more as he held me.

I could feel the smirk on his lips before he spoke, “I care not of the stars when I look at you for you are brighter and far more beautiful than they could ever hope to be,” he said, causing my heart to swell with joy. His voice lowered as his lips brushed against mine, sending a current through my body, “besides, I have no great love for the stars, not like the love I have for you,” he murmured before pressing his lips to mine, allowing me no time to respond; however, as soon as his lips met mine, I didn’t care about anything else but him. His kiss was gentle, like the water lapping at your feet or the breeze in your hair on a warm night. It had not been the first time he kissed me. We began our love affair-if one could call it that-when we were still young. It was when we were no longer in our childhood, but we weren't quite adults yet. We were in the strange process of discovering our place in the world, and in the meantime, we discovered each other. I always figured that Loki just needed time to realize that he could have someone far greater than me, someone with a name and something more to give.

As our lips danced with each others-slow and steady, like our relationship-I heard him. I heard the thudding of his heart and realized that he was nervous about initiating the kiss, like he always was. I heard a gentle groan that was born deep within his chest. I heard the fluttering of his eyelashes, like the wings of a butterfly, and I realized that he couldn't keep his eyes closed. Instead, he opened them every so often and checked to make sure that he was not just imagining this. I only heard him. I only felt him. It was just the two of us in our own beautiful moment, and I realized that I was waiting for something that would not happen. I was waiting for Loki to figure out that he didn't want me, that he could do so much better, but I knew that the moment he left me, the moment he forsook me, would never come. I didn't know what I did to deserve a love so beautiful and so sweet, but I had him, and I was going to enjoy what time we had together because I loved him.

With the sudden realization that my feelings were reciprocated, my heart swelled with joy, and a lump rose in my throat. I pulled away from the soft and sweet kisses and opened my eyes, allowing the tears to form without feeling embarrassed about them. For so long, I was sure that the only love I would know was the love I had to give, but I never thought I could know a love so strong and so pure that was all for me. As those blue eyes fluttered open, they met mine with fear that he had done something wrong or that he had hurt me in some way. When he saw the tears in my eyes, his eyebrows furrowed, “oh, Eva, did I hurt you? I didn’t mean to. What happened?” he asked, frantically trying to figure out what was wrong.

I could only smile in response to his distress, laughing at how quick he was to assume that he had done something wrong. Even though it hurt to know that he thought of himself as a monster who could only bring suffering and pain into the lives of others, I couldn’t help but feel special in that he wanted to preserve me. Finally, words found me once more, and I said the words to him that he had said to me for years. I gazed into his eyes as the universe fell into place, “I love you, Loki. I have always loved you,” I professed in a voice low enough that not even the trees could hear. I wanted to shout my love for him from the highest mountain, but I wanted the beginning of-what would be-our whirlwind love story to be sacred between just us.

He was left speechless for a moment, but his disbelief faded slightly as tears of joy filled his eyes, “I love you, Eva.”

I smiled up at him, “I love you more,” I whispered, pressing a featherlight kiss to his lips.

It was the first time I told Loki I loved him, and it was the first time I saw him cry. It was the beginning of the centuries we would spend together before the fall.

*End of Flashback*

Heimdall’s deep voice brought me back to the present, “you think not of Hjalmar but of Loki. His darkness plagues you still,” he said, orange eyes staring out into the vast universe. He always seemed to be contemplating something, but at the same time, he was without all judgement. His dark skin glowed brighter than the golden armor upon him. He had the beauty of every warrior before him, but what made him more beautiful than so many was the way he viewed life. He believed that life was to be preserved no matter what, and it was our shared belief that drew us closer together. Just as I was about to argue with him, he spoke again, “you have visited me more times than anyone in Asgard. You have spoken my name more than the Allfather himself. You have spent more time looking out across the vast Universe with me than Thor, himself, a man whose love for the stars has always been insatiable. You have entrusted me more of your deepest and most personal secrets than the queen, a goddess who often stared across the universe with me while filling my ear with details of her life that almost no one else knew. All this, yet you do not think I can see right through you,” he remarked, stoically and without so much as a glance.

My eyes lowered as I processed his words. It was true. Heimdall had been one of the few people who could read me like an open book. He knew my every thought and feeling before it even occurred. It was worthless to attempt to hide anything from him, especially the truth, “I miss Hjalmar, but...I cannot bring him back to me no matter what I do. I cannot right the wrongs that led to his death. I do still feel like there is something to be done about Loki. I still feel like I can bring him back to me, which would right so many of the wrongs in my life. The memory of Hjalmar haunts me still, but I’m trying to focus my mind on something that I can fix,” I explained, gazing up at the strong features of the gatekeeper.

The sides of his mouth twisted into the subtlest grin I had ever seen, but it was still there, “what you fail to realize is that death is not something that requires fixing. You do not lack the ability to fix death because it is just as much a part of life as living,” he stated, finally peeling his steely gaze away from the universe and focusing it on me. When I gazed up into those bright and burning eyes, I was overwhelmed by the beauty in them. He had seen so much beauty and so much pain, and I witnessed all of it every time we locked eyes. He continued, “I can still see him, and he misses you more than you know. He misses you with the same intensity as you miss him. He waits patiently for you, though, because he knows that it is not your time to reunite with him just yet. While he yearns for your company, you should see his joy. He has been reunited with his family, and when you meet your heroes end, you will be reunited with him as well. This doesn’t mean you should ignore your blessings while you are still among the living, though,” he explained, hinting at the one thing that I had not brought up, the one thing I refused to call attention to.

I still had not been home to see Aaldir. I had not mourned the death of Hjalmar with him, and instead, I forced him to mourn alone. I could not face him, knowing that it should have been me. Hjalmar was the only son he ever knew, and I knew that Aaldir would be devastated. I just didn’t know how to go home after this. I stared back out into the dazzling universe, desperately wanting to change the subject, “how are they?” I asked, knowing that Heimdall would understand my vague question.

“They are all in stable condition,” he answered as I felt his gaze shift from me and back out to the stars. It was as if he was watching them as he spoke, “Agents Barton and Romanoff have not left each other’s sides since New York, and they manage to keep each other stable. I think that Captain Rogers is handling it better than all of them, considering that he was still trying to rehabilitate himself when he was pulled back into the fight. Still, he is lonely and...isolated. I believe he could benefit from your company. Dr. Banner is also handling the stress well, but he has learned to master his own mind,” he added before letting out a deep sigh-something he usually did before mentioning Tony Stark, the man I always worried about the most. Not many people could see it and understand it, but Tony Stark was the embodiment of all that I held dear in my life, and when I saw his eyes after his fall from the wormhole, I couldn’t hold back my rampant protective instincts. Heimdall focused his attention back on me, “Stark is having a...difficult time coping with what happened, but he grounds himself in his work as much as he can. His state worries me the most, but I keep a close eye on him, as you requested, and I know to inform you if any of them are in danger.”

I gave him a curt nod, “thank you, Heimdall, not only for your council, but for taking on yet another responsibility just to appease me,” I remarked, my voice filled with gratitude for the man who was not only the Gatekeeper to my home, but also one of my dearest friends. I remained silent for a moment, not even a breath escaping my lips as I thought of the one person he failed to mention. I was unsure if it was to keep from hurting me or if-because the previous time he told me of her-I shed tears in front of him, which was something I rarely did. I gazed out at the beautiful universe and wondered if she was just as fond of the stars as I was or...if she was gazing up at them as well, our souls connecting through them for just a moment. I felt the tears rising in my eyes and the lump in my throat, “and what of her?” I asked, unsure of whether or not I truly wanted an answer.

One of his strong hands disconnected from his sword, and it grasped mine, calloused fingers wrapping around my hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. My bottom lip quivered as I thought of her, of all the moments we shared before I did to her what Loki had done to me, “you did what was right, my lady,” that deep and smooth voice reminded me, “she is safe. She feels lonely-isolated-but she is safe, which was what you wanted for her. She knows not why she feels such sorrow and loss, but she doesn’t think of you...if that is any consolation,” he claimed, knowing that it was, “they miss you, Lady Eva. They all do. The people of Midgard still celebrate your courage to fight in New York, but the ones you fought beside know just how much the battle took from you. If they had a Watcher, they would be keeping a close eye on you, too,” he reminded me, “but you have others here who need you. I beg you to remember them as well.”

I choked back the tears as I gazed out across the Rainbow Bridge that led back to the beautiful city that surrounded the palace. I shook my head, ashamed that I had been so selfish to ignore the man who gave up his life to raise me, a man who had lost so much already. I let my guilt stand in the way of me supporting him, and I didn’t know how to go back after that. I tried to swallow back the lump in my throat before I spoke, “the problem is that I do not know how to return home. I know the way, but I do not wish to see the table my family once sat around, now with another empty chair. I do not wish to be in a silent room that had once been filled with his laughter. I cannot stand the thought of facing the man who raised me because I failed to protect his son!” I exclaimed, allowing a stray tear to fall.

“Never has there been a moment more tragic than when a goddess cries,” he murmured in a low voice as he reached out to wipe the tear from my cheek. I was no goddess, but I wouldn’t argue with him, not after my outburst, “are you not just as much Aaldir’s daughter as Hjalmar was his son?” he asked, pressing me to contemplate my reasoning for avoiding Aaldir, “you forget that he is the God of Mercy. Even if he harbored ill will toward you-which he never has-he has forgiven every mistake and every misdeed you ever have and ever will commit. Do not doubt his compassion and love for you, Lady Eva. Go to him. Mourn with him. Comfort him in the way only you can,” he urged me, resting his hand on my shoulder and giving it a light squeeze.

I nodded my head, knowing that he was right. He made too many valid points for me to refuse his council, “if anything changes on Midgard or with...her...just-”

He cut me off, “you will be the first to know,” he smiled, knowing what I always made him promise me that before I left. I only wished to protect the ones I regarded as friends. I knew that Loki’s actions left a lasting impact upon the Midgardians, especially the Avengers. While I knew they didn’t need me to watch out for them, I needed to do that for myself. They deserved all the protection I could offer them because they chose to spare Loki when they could have killed him. I owed them everything. Tony was the most deserving of every ounce of my protection, for he took on the greatest responsibility of them all.

Knowing that Heimdall would keep his word, I turned away from him and made my way down the rainbow bridge, wishing for anything to stop me from making it home. Every step I took was another step closer to the place house Hjalmar and I grew up in, another step closer to the woods we used to play in every morning as children, another step closer to realizing that he was gone and that all I had left were memories. I didn’t allow the tears to begin falling until I reached the secluded woods surrounding our home. I followed the long path Hjalmar and I used to stray from because he had a strong belief that “adventuring is what makes life fun.” As soon as I dried the tears shed because of a beautiful memory, another memory would resurface, and more tears would fall. It was a losing battle, and upon realizing that, I allowed the tears to flow freely and without shame in them.

As I reached the end of the trail, I finally saw the modest cottage. My legs froze, and it felt like I was unable to breathe. I closed my eyes, the tears that budded on my eyelashes finally spilling down my cheeks. A whirlwind of memories flooded my mind. I could remember when Hjalmar was chased by a wild boar, and I refused to let him in the house because he was dirty and would ruin the freshly cleaned floors. I could remember when I was scolded by Aaldir for playing with the wolves outside, but I would still sing to them and bring them the food scraps whenever I could. Hjalmar knew about it, but he never told our father of it. I could remember Hjalmar breaking one of the branches of a tree whilst trying to climb it, and I cried so much that he planted a new one just for me. I could remember when my father presented me with my first sword, Thunderguard, Hjalmar practiced with me all day. He had been the one to inspire the name, telling me that I would someday fight on the battlefield with the God of Thunder, and it would be my sword to protect him. Aaldir made all of our weapons on his own, and he was the one who saw to it that my current sword, the one he presented to me when I returned from my first battle, was crafted perfectly by the dwarves of Nidavellir.

“Go inside.”

Hjalmar’s voice was soft but sure, and there was not a question in my mind that it belonged to him. I knew that voice better than my own. My eyes shot open, and I whipped around, frantically searching for him only to realize that it was merely a disembodied voice. When I turned back around, I noticed that the door into my childhood home was ajar, and Aaldir stood in the doorway. He didn’t move a muscle, but I knew it was merely out of shock to see that I had finally come home. As soon as I saw those soft brown eyes, the ones I had looked into all my life, I broke down. I no longer cared about what I would find missing within the walls of my home, but all I needed was my father.

As I ran toward him, he closed some of the space between us, arms wide open and waiting for me. I crashed into his body, throwing my arms around his waist, and knocking him back. Immediately after his strong arms wrapped around my frame, I buried my face into his chest and let the tears flow. His left arm stayed locked around my waist while his right hand rubbed circles on my back to soothe me. His body trembled as he choked back his own emotions. He always reminded Hjalmar and I that a true warrior is not ashamed of his own sorrow but embraces it when the time comes. I knew that he was desperately trying to ignore his own emotions to comfort me, but he was failing quickly.

“I tried to save him, but...I couldn’t. It should have been me!” I sobbed, pieces of Hjalmar’s final moments flashing across my closed eyes. I gripped my father’s shirt tighter, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!” I cried, allowing myself to fall apart with the knowledge that he was the first person I ever trusted to do that in front of. I crumbled, and he picked up all the shattered pieces and put me back together in time with his unconditional love.

He peeled me away from him just enough to cup my face with his calloused hands that had seen thousands of years of war. Those deep and haunting brown eyes were stern when he caught my gaze. Before he could speak, the tears fell down his cheeks and were caught in his brown beard that had begun to turn grey with age. He looked like a broken man in that moment, a man I had never seen before. Even when Hjalmar and I returned from battle, riddled with injuries, he never allowed us to see this side of him. Now, I saw him in such a different light. He was afraid. His eyes searched mine as he spoke, “I never want to hear you say those words again. I never want you to think that it should have been you!” he exclaimed, his voice deep and filled with emotion, “in a perfect world, I would have both of my children in my arms right now, and even though I have a pain in my heart where Hjalmar once was, I still have my little girl. I don’t want to think of what it would feel like to have lost both of you, and if I know anything about you, I know that you would have gotten yourself killed trying to protect him. The fact that you’re here right now tells me that there was nothing to be done to save him. You have nothing to be sorry for, Eva. You came back home to me, and this is where you belong,” he murmured, ignoring the tears on his cheeks to wipe away the tears from mine.

“He should be here, too,” I noted, pressing my face back to his chest.

He sighed that very particular sigh that a father used when he didn’t know how to fix the broken heart of his child. Aaldir had done that many times as I was growing up, and one of the last times he did it was when Loki had fallen from the bifrost. Loki had been just as much a son to him as Hjalmar. Aaldir always showed the trickster as much compassion and love as Odin should have. Where Odin failed to see Loki’s many talents, Aaldir celebrated him. I could remember moments when Odin was too busy watching Thor train that he would brush aside a hopeful Loki who had only wished to show him the new spell he learned. Aaldir, however, would sit for hours and listen to Loki talk about books, the stars, magic, Frigga, and...me. My father saw something in the young prince that not many others did, and he did his best to pull Loki to the light. I saw the sorrow in my father’s eyes when Loki fell, almost like he had lost a part of himself, too. For months, he comforted me as I cried myself to sleep, as I mourned the loss of my love, and I heard that same sigh. This time, it was because he couldn’t bring Hjalmar back. He could not fix my broken heart, but I knew that it would mean he would attempt to fill it with more love than ever before.

In one swift motion, he scooped me up into his arms, “I’ve got you, little wolf. Everything’s going to be okay,” he promised, and in that moment, I realized that even though I didn’t know how to return home, I had a father who would never give up on me. No matter how frightening the path may be or how dark it may seem, he would always find me and carry me home. I didn’t need to know the way.

*Thor’s POV*

Eva’s long brown hair cascaded over her body as I carried her through the halls of the palace with my mother in tow. Ephinea had talked Eva into accompanying her to the celebration of Hjalmar. It was a party thrown in honor of him. While I expected Eva to be in attendance, she was adamant that she would not be going when I invited her a week prior. However, when Ephinea asked her, she seemed to have a change of heart. I half-expected her to pay tribute to him with a song, but she drank the same way he used to. Perhaps, she was honoring him by remembering the way he lived, or she was drowning her sorrows in the ale he loved most. Either way, the night ended with her singing on top of one of the tables as everyone cheered her on. When I finally managed to coax her off of the table, she sat down on my lap and promptly fell asleep whilst the crowd continued singing and drinking.

That led us to this moment. I carried her down the hallways toward Loki’s chambers, knowing that she would feel most at home in there. She had finally spoken his name after quite some time refusing to do so. I knew that the loss of Hjalmar only made the problems with Loki even more tender. It only made her fight even harder for his freedom. While I knew my father would not budge on the subject, I also knew that Eva would not take “no” for an answer when it came to him. She would get him out of his cell one way or another. If I knew one thing about her, it was that she was more willful than anyone else I had ever met in my entire life. I took pity on any man who stood between her and the ones she loved. I would take pity on my father when the time came.

Upon reaching the doors that I had opened without invitation time and time again when I was younger, my mother pushed it open for me, allowing me the space to pass over the threshold with Eva in my arms. I walked her over to the bed, laying her body across the sheets she had slept beneath so many times before. While I knew not of the extent of their relationship, I knew that Eva would often find herself in Loki’s chambers in the early hours of the morning. The two would often sneak back to the palace after staying out late and watching the stars. Some nights, they would fall asleep beneath the night sky, and I would not see him until the next morning. There were also times when Aaldir would invite Loki into his home. I had received such invitations as well, but Loki and Eva had a special relationship that I’d never witnessed between two people before.

As soon as I laid her down onto the bed, the unconscious beauty grasped onto his pillow tightly, never once waking up. She curled up into the vast array of pillows and quickly became entangled in the bedsheets. I smiled at the similar view. I had witnessed it once before. Loki, Eva, and I came back after a night of celebration, and Loki offered his bed to her. Of course, she took up the offer, as Loki’s bed had an unnecessary amount of pillows, which she loved. He never had that many when we were young, but he built up quite the collection, and upon realizing that she loved a bed filled with pillows, he only added more. On that night, Eva had been so tired that she laid down in the bed, tossed and turned until she was comfortable, and when she finally found the perfect spot, she was as still and unmoving as a mountain. Loki and I had shared a laugh at that. It was one of the quirks I watched him fall in love with, and it was something that made me love her even more-she made my brother happy.

Mother stood in the back of the room by the door, but I couldn’t leave the side of the bed to join her. Instead, I could only stare down at Eva, reminiscing of a time we all knew peace. As I stood, gazing at the woman I had fallen in love with years ago, mother’s voice pierced the silence that fell, “she misses him. I can see it in her eyes every day,” she noted with a bittersweet smile as she watched Eva cling to the few things that reminded her of my brother. It was much more than just the pillows.

I turned to meet her eyes, but she was watching the sleeping girl. Eva was a princess if there ever was one, and I believed we could all see it. Soft and flawless sun-kissed skin was dusted with the smallest imperfections across her nose and cheeks. They were barely visible, but once you were close enough, they were all you could notice. They were like stars dusted across the night sky. They did nothing to take away from her beauty but added to it. There were her angular cheekbones that could cut through a man’s heart, and there was the thin slope of her nose. Her hair was dark like the eyes of her father, but what took every man and woman’s breath away were those eyes. They sat below full brows that came to a soft arch, and they were more brilliant than emeralds, a green that matched the colors of spring. Her eyes were without imperfections. No other colors dared to taint the purity of that green. Every time she looked at me, I was left speechless. While I admired their hauntingly beautiful glow, they were filled with so much melancholy that it made me want to cry. I had never seen a woman more beautiful than her, so beautiful that even her tears were stunning, falling like twinkling stars from the sky. They shimmered and sparkled, making it impossible for me to look away and respect her grief, which I had seen on countless occasions.

As my mother gazed upon the sleeping princess, I replied to her comment, “she’s been missing him for some time now. He abandoned her more than a year ago,” I scowled, thinking of how my brother could do something so selfish to someone who gave him everything she had to offer. She bore his burdens, and she lost everything for him. She made sacrifices for him that he would never know, and she gave him a gift he would never receive because of his stupidity and selfishness. She loved him, and he tossed her aside. I knew what led to his ultimate downfall, but...they could’ve run away together.

“You honestly believe that?” mother asked, sensing what I had been feeling, “if your father denied Loki of his happiness before, do you truly believe that he would allow them to run away together? Do you believe he wouldn’t search high and low for them? Do you have faith that he wouldn’t wage a war against your brother to get her back?” she asked, finally meeting my eyes. I shook my head, shame overcoming me for even thinking that it could’ve been so simple. I knew that my father had compassion for Loki, but it wasn’t love, not like the love he had for me. If he did, he would’ve agreed to Loki’s offer just to see him happy. It was why my mother felt so much sympathy for him. He found the one thing worth living for, and Odin denied him of simple happiness.

She motioned for me to join her at her side, “you say that she’s been missing him for so long because he abandoned her a short time ago, but she never abandoned him. She mourned him the same as we all did when he fell from the Bifrost. She was the first to go to Earth when she found out he was there, and she reached out to him to give him another chance. She was the last one to leave the throne room when he was being sentenced, and she was the first one who spoke out against your father, her king, in an attempt to free Loki into her care,” she reminded me of all the times Eva has refused to give up on a man who hurt her with such brutal vigor. On Midgard, it was like he hurt her for the fun of it, like he found joy in bringing her pain and suffering, but she continued to fight for him. Mother continued, “she’s seen what he has done, and it has terrified her. I’ve seen how it shakes her, how the fear rattles her bones. I know who and what she is, and I know that she sings the songs of life. Wherever she goes, life and nature thrive like never before. People are happy, the music is more beautiful, the flowers bloom even when it is not the season for them. She values life, and to see the man who means so much to her threaten that, it tears her apart and terrifies her. However, she still believes there’s a piece of him that is good, like he can still be saved. She misses the man he once was, and she misses the love they once shared. While he did abandon her some time ago, it’s harder now than ever before because he’s so close, but she cannot be near him,” she explained.

“He doesn’t care about her anymore, so she’d be better off if she did let him go,” I scowled, still tense and upset about what he did to her. While I knew that my feelings toward him were born out of my love for her, I tried to understand why he acted out. I didn’t know how I would react in his situation, so I tried not to pass judgement on my brother.

My mother cleared her throat, gazing back at the sleeping girl, “just like you would be better off if you let her go,” she remarked, reminding me that my behavior was just as unhealthy as I believed hers was.

I shook my head, “it’s different. I would treat her well!” I exclaimed, trying to make my mother understand that there would never come a day when I would try to hurt her. There would never come a day when I would lay my hands on her unless it was out of love. On Midgard, Loki broke his code of honor when it came to her. I had the most vivid memory of finding him on Midgard and finding out what he had done to her. Of course, he was swallowed by madness at that point, and her presence only drove him further into the abyss. I could remember the horrible things he said to her, words I wouldn’t even recall in my own mind because they were so vile. He destroyed her on Midgard, but he also surrendered because of her. The moment he realized what he was doing was brought upon by her showing him the same compassion she always had as she was on the brink of death, and she would have let it happen. She never fought him.

Mother’s voice pulled me from my own thoughts, “Loki believes the only way he can protect her is by sending her away. That’s why he pushed her away before he fell from the Bifrost and before he turned against you. He wanted to protect her. Is he misguided? Yes. Does he believe he is doing the right thing? I think so. Your brother is sacrificing the one thing he cares for just because he doesn’t want to taint something so good, and he believes that his presence brings pain. A handful of us watched Eva do the same not too long ago,” she stated, sorrow in her voice, “I know of no one who can simply stop loving a person, and you should be the first to know what that is like,” she murmured.

“My feelings for Eva aren’t what we’re talking about,” I reminded her, never feeling like it was right to delve into my most private emotions. I loved her, but that was a secret I would bring to my deathbed.

“Are they not?” she asked, furrowing her thin eyebrows. She reached between us and grasped my hands in hers, “I see the way you still look at her, my son. It’s the same way you used to look at her when the two of you were younger. She is still the object of your affection. You have tried your best to move on with this Midgardian girl, and you have tried to forget the feelings you harbor for Eva, but you have seen that it’s not that simple,” she said, mentioning my failed relationship with Jane. While I had feelings for the Midgardian woman, they were nothing compared to the feelings I harbored for Eva, and it was unfair for me to pretend like they were. I fancied other women-Ephinea and Sif-but I was still “hung up”-as Tony Stark would put it-on Eva. My mother’s slender fingers stroked the back of my hand as I thought of all the time I spent wishing for just one chance with Eva, but I would’ve never tried to take that away from Loki. I still wouldn’t. Mother’s voice cut through my own distress, and her words brought me some solace, “still, just as one cannot stop loving another, one cannot force themselves to love another. Eva harbors that love for only one person, and even though she tries to deny it, we’ve always known that he would be her undoing, and she would be his saving grace.”

[fadingcoast]

Death of the Lie  ||  Chapter 10: Love

AUTHORS: @fandom-and-feminism​ & @fadingcoast​

Summary: Odin and his daughter Hela are the perfect conquerors of the universe. The nine realms fall one after the other into their clutch. After Odin takes a second wife and has a son with her, he doesn’t need Hela anymore. Hela abandons her father and ends up marrying Laufey, a sworn enemy of the Aesir people. Not long after, she becomes pregnant with Laufey’s child. Odin cannot let that son be born, but against all odds, the boy survives. Odin is forced to bring him back to Asgard to be raised as his own until he could make further use of him. The half-Jotun-half-Aesir boy grows up to look and act a lot like his mother, which disturbs Odin, and makes him treat the boy horribly. Odin’s lies are deep and complex, but one day the boy will find out the truth about everything he is.

PAIRING: None RATING: Teen

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Chapter 10: Love

Dearest Mother,

It is my hope that this letter finds you in good spirits, as mine cannot be contained. King Frèyr and the Princess Sigyn have been exceedingly accommodating and ceaselessly patient over the past weeks as I have begun my studies at the Sanctum, and it was with great surprise that I learned that some of Asgard’s greatest leaders had studied here, and that they had been left out of our archives. This is something I aim to remedy once I return.

In the spirit of new beginnings, I have to confess that I find myself overwhelmed at times, but with joy and pride rather than the darkness that used to poison me from within. The Masters here have expressed their intuition that I was born with an innate connection to magic, and that all I needed to harness it was the right instruction - with no offense forwarded to you, as you are the greatest Queen the Nine Realms has had in generations and your knowledge in seidr is nothing to underestimate. It is due to your guidance that I have come this far as a practitioner already, and I could never thank you enough for that, and for allowing me to come here.

With regards to my abilities, as you well know, I have always been able to manipulate cold, particularly in response to my intolerance to heat. I discussed this issue in length with one of my Masters, and she believes that this power inside of me exists to protect me, and the fact that it has been there since I was an infant that couldn’t possibly control it suggests that I am a born sorcerer with the potential to someday be a powerful seidr Master. It is a lot to live up to, but I can feel in my bones that there is more than a grain of truth to it.

With winter now in full swing, I find my time in Alfheim to be much more comfortable than it would be in Asgard, as the weather swings to such extremes there that I was forced to remain indoors nearly all year while the seasons are much more mild here. This realm is truly breathtaking, its forests and architecture a thing of rare beauty that I was unprepared for - and the Alfar are a sophisticated people who are practiced in magic and in the appreciation of life. Only yesterday I was walking through the castle gardens after snowfall, reciting incantations to myself, and I saw and joined Princess Sigyn and several common Alfar in skating on the lake that had frozen over. Somehow it is in their blood to balance work and play without an overindulgence in either, and they are happier for it. As am I.

My mind often wanders to home, to you and Thor and Father and the Kingdom’s affairs. There are a few Aesir Healers in training here at the Sanctum, but they are not privy to castle gossip and know next to nothing about what goes on. It takes little stretch of the imagination to believe life is a bit less complicated for you without me there to enrage Father with my failures or for Thor to pass blame onto for his latest antics. I will be granted visitation time after my first decade of studying has been completed, and I will be released to spend that autumn season in Asgard before the next year starts. I believe you will find me a changed person, unrecognizable from the shell of a boy I once was, and I hope it makes you proud.

I will write you again the next full moon, and in the meantime I would enjoy hearing from you. It is with best wishes for your continued health and happiness that I send my love. Perhaps I will learn to cast illusions between realms over the next few years so I can speak to you in person more often.

Loki

.-

Five years had passed since Loki first came to Alfheim, his skills flourishing, his confidence higher than ever, and even his room boasted brighter colors and a larger bay window to let in more light. The princess Sigyn was becoming like a younger sister to him, and they both looked to each other for advice and support as she approached the age to begin her own studies at the Sanctum. On the last day of the fifth summer, Loki sat on a chair in his bathroom letting Gwyn braid his hair, which had grown down to the middle of his back with not a single split end in sight, thanks to Gwyn’s tedious care. Loki was still grateful that he had such a spirited and dedicated maid to help him, and she insisted she was happy to take care of the small things like dressing and cleaning so his mind was free to worry about the big things - his studies, inter-realm diplomacy, and learning from Frèyr what it meant to be a good and efficient King, even if he never got the throne.

Gwyn ran Loki’s brush through the bottom half of his hair that wasn’t braided, slowly working the oils through to tame his curls. “So when were you going to tell us?” she asked casually, and Loki frowned, his heart skipping a beat. He had tried to keep it private, at least for now.

“Tell you what?”

“Alright, I get it,” she conceded. “I won’t push. You’re a Prince, though, so people are bound to figure it out eventually, especially when you pick one as handsome as you did.” Loki met her eyes in the mirror, his cheeks and ears bright red, and she winked at him.

.-

Mother,

Now that the first five years of my apprenticeship have been completed and I have proven my worth amongst the student body, the Masters are granting me further privileges at the Sanctum, including access to certain restricted material and private practice time with more advanced skills like teleportation and camouflaging magic. The Alfar possess the largest collection of texts and reference books in the Nine Realms, giving me unparallelled opportunity to further my education. Indeed, if Thor takes the throne as I expect he will, I may choose to become a teacher myself in the future, to fill in the gaps that Asgardian schools leave.

For the first time I find myself vexed by affairs of the heart, even amidst the work I have to do as part of my training. It feels superfluous to pursue something that will likely only be a fleeting infatuation, but even so, I cannot ignore what draws my attention - and I fail to find the right person to ask advice from.

There is someone from Vanaheim that I have studied alongside for the last five years and with whom I have developed a close friendship. But there’s more than the innocent friendly feelings one might have - that one should have.

I find my thoughts drifting to my friend when they are not otherwise occupied with scholarly endeavors. I find myself wishing to spend more hours together. I find myself daydreaming about him! I am surprised I haven’t started writing love stories about us.

Yes, it is a “he”. Which is part of why I am conflicted. I realized I have no qualms with the notion of a relationship between people of the same gender. The Alfar and the Vanir are open to all kinds of demonstrations of love, much more than Asgard. I just never thought it would happen to me.

I cannot describe the way he makes me feel, or the way we understand each other with just a look. Small things make me think he might feel the same way. But I can’t escape the tightness that sets in my chest every time I think maybe he doesn’t.

It could be something, it could be nothing, but if there was only one thing I have learned about intuition, it’s to trust it. Only time will show whether my affections are returned - and after all, all we have is time.

I expect Father would be none too pleased if he knew this, and I am confiding in you because I know you won’t tell him and even will help me in dispelling rumours that I am sure have reached Asgard.

As always, I send my love and promise that I will take my leave at the first opportunity so you can stop worrying so much, at least for a while.

Loki

.-

Loki received a reply letter faster than he ever had before, his heart skipping quite a few beats when he returned to his room after supper less than a week later. He held the textured and sealed paper in one hand and fussed with his braid in the other, debating whether to open it or not - suppose Odin had intercepted or found his last letter and this was a notice that he was being disowned? What if Frigga shared the knowledge of his friend Erik and they were all laughing at him back home?

No, Loki scolded himself for even thinking of such a betrayal from his own mother. You’re being ridiculous. It has Frigga’s seal on the wax enclosure. He took a seat at his desk and opened the letter with shaking hands, and he could hear Gwyn letting herself in as he read, grateful she didn’t interrupt him as she busied herself getting his bath and sleeping clothes ready.

The letter detailed the latest goings-on at the castle and Kingdom, from Thor’s upcoming diplomatic trip to Vanaheim, wherein the Prince would stay at the castle for a week and negotiate the new trade dealings in Odin’s stead, to the recruitment of a rather feisty woman warrior named Sif to Thor’s inner circle of friends, and the speculation that she would one day be his intended.

Frigga went on to conclude in her brief reply that it would be wise to keep anything romantic that would happen between himself and his friend in private as much as possible so word would not reach Asgard, that she supported him but his father would not, and she would do what was necessary to quell any gossip about him. Few people dared to question the Allmother, Loki knew.

When he finished, Loki saw Gwen standing next to him with a patient smile on her face, her hands folded in front of her. Having gotten to know the woman over the past few years, Loki trusted Gwyn, and wanted to feel comfortable telling her about Erik - and a part of him suspected she knew anyway - but since even he wasn’t sure that it was anything to tell at all, he decided not to. He looked up at Gwyn’s soft eyes and half-smiled.

“Is all well in the Capitol, your Highness?” She had her eyebrow quirked up in the way it always did when she was trying to say something without actually saying it out loud. Gwyn knew him too well sometimes.

Loki ran his thumb over the broken wax seal and shrugged his shoulders. “They’re… trying to figure out whether to start an alliance with a neighboring planet, but they’re, ah, unsure whether relations with them are secure enough to do so.”

Gwyn hummed cryptically. “I see. I often find that answers lie in instinct of the heart, but I am just a handmaid and you don’t have to listen to me, my Prince.”

Loki had to smile at that. “One would be wise,” he assured her, “to heed the advice of a woman who has had her finger on the pulse of a thriving kingdom for thousands of years, even if she is a maid.”

.-

Loki and Erik exited the tavern in a giggle fit; they had caused enough mayhem for the night and they were politely invited to leave, after perhaps just a bit too much to drink.

Over the years, the pair had become infamous as the trickster duo, as it was their trademark to pull pranks together at any possible moment in a way that wouldn’t get them in trouble for it. Though the Masters at the Sanctum, as well as most of the older adults in Alfheim’s nearby villages, found their tricks to be less than amusing, the two friends still had risen their way to the top of their classes, had many friends, and were hardly ever seen without the other close by.

Loki walked Erik to the village’s group home he and their Vanir classmates shared during the courses. It was late, and fully dark outside, the springtime insects and gurgling river creating a nighttime symphony that kept the atmosphere light. The laughs they were having on the way slowly turned into an awkward silence when they reached the gates.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Loki said with a small smile, and turned to leave.

Erik held his breath, and grabbed Loki’s hand, pulling him back. His other hand pulled Loki down by the neck. Loki was too stunned to do anything, and accepted the kiss Erik offered with joy. If Erik weren’t holding on to him, Loki might have leapt with happiness.

The kiss wasn’t much, and too short for Loki’s liking, but it left them both breathless and shaking slightly anyway.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now,” Erik confessed, hands sliding down Loki’s shoulders and chest, his fingers fidgeting with the strings that tied his tunic closed in the front. “Years.”

“Why didn’t you do it sooner?” Loki asked, part of him still unwilling to believe what had happened.

“You are an aesir prince!”

“So?”

“So?” Erik said with a scoff. He threw his arms out to the side in an exasperated shrug. “Asgard is not renowned for their acceptance of- unconventional relationships.”

Loki looked at his own shoes, face red with embarrassment. “I know, and you have no idea how hard it is to-” He gulped, not sure if he wanted to say what was next, what had lain heavy in his heart for over half a decade.

Erik sighed deeply and took Loki’s hands, stepping closer to him. “Please be honest with me, Loki. I swear I won’t get mad and I swear will still be friends. We’ve known each other for too long to change that.”

Loki’s heart was pounding inside his chest when he looked at Erik. Every word was jumbled in his throat, making it hard to breathe. Honest? First he had to be honest with himself… With every second Loki took to answer, Erik’s hold on his hands slacked. If he let go-

“No.” Loki suddenly breathed out, startling Erik.

Loki gripped Erik’s hands and pulled him close again, leaning down to kiss him. This second kiss was far better. Loki was more confident and comfortable, knowing Erik felt the same way he did. Erik wrapped his arms around Loki’s neck as he stood on the tip of his toes, trying to deepen the kiss.

“Damn you for being so tall!” Erik said, breaking away to breathe.

“Would you like me to summon a box?” Loki teased. “Or maybe a ladder?”

“Shut up!” Erik slapped Loki’s arm, playfully squirming to get away from him.

But Loki tightened his grip around Erik, his giggles falling on Erik’s hair. Erik took a deep breath, wrapping his arms around Loki’s waist.

“This feels nice,” Erik said after a moment’s thoughtful silence.

Loki had to agree. Erik’s height was just so that the top of his head tucked right under his own chin. He gently cupped the back of Erik’s neck with one hand and ran his hand down Erik’s back with the other. He didn’t want this stolen moment to end - but of course he knew it had to.

“I am sorry that I will have to ask you to keep it from public view.” Loki sighed, deflated. “Mostly at the school. With the Aesir healers-”

“Of course.” Erik looked up at Loki, pushing a loose strand of hair behind his ear. “Word travels fast there.”

“I really have to get back to the palace,” Loki said somberly. He took Erik’s face in his trembling hands and gave him another quick, soft kiss.

“Then I will see you tomorrow, and we can do more of this, preferably while sitting down.” Erik chuckled, the sound even more charming to Loki than before.

“I can still summon a box,” Loki mused, getting an annoyed eye roll from Erik. “Goodnight.”

Loki watched Erik depart and sprinted the rest of the way back to the castle, taking the secret entrance that Sigyn had shown him years before to avoid the guards. When he got back to his room, his heart was still flying with exultation, and he could hardly contain his breathless, joyful laughter as he fell onto his immaculately made bed and buried his head in his pillows.

All day the next day at the Sanctum, Loki had to force himself to stop constantly thinking about Erik so he could focus in class. He and Erik stole looks at each other from across rooms, touched hands beneath tables when they got to sit together, and sneaked off to the restrooms to kiss during lunch break, all the while hoping desperately that no one would catch them.

“This examination coming next week is going to be brutal,” Erik groaned as they were walking toward the palace once the day was over. Loki knew Erik was referring to the hours-long practical exam in conjuring and teleportation just a few days away, and they were going to study together at the palace to get some practice - and alone time - in. They were within shouting distance of the castle and Loki couldn’t wait to take Erik to the library for some privacy.

Seeing no one around, Loki put his arm around Erik’s shoulders and squeezed. “I know,” he said wearily, “but if there’s anyone that can pass, it’s you. And me, with you there,” he added, and Erik looked up at him with a flattered smile.

“Loki, my dear boy!” Frèyr’s ringing voice carried down the path to the two of them and they parted with a jump. “Erik, how lovely to see you! Will you be joining us for supper this evening?”

Erik, completely frozen in place, had been rendered unable to speak by the surprise of the moment, so Loki answered for him. “Yes, he will,” he said confidently, practiced in the art of hiding his emotions. “We have a test to study for, so we’ll be going to the library.”

Frèyr looked from one boy to the other, his eyes twinkling. “Of course,” he said, a smile spreading wide across his face. “I will ensure none of the guards or staff will interrupt your… studying.”

Loki found himself less than hungry at dinner, distracted by Erik’s foot tapping his underneath the table. He poked his food around with his fork and kept looking from where Frèyr and Sigyn were talking, to across the table where Erik was staring at him while he ate. He could still feel the ghost of Erik’s lips on his own, could smell his hair on his clothes. His thoughts back in the library, Loki stroked his thumb on his lower lip, and didn’t hear Frèyr addressing him until he got a light tap on his shoulder.

“Loki, your boyfriend asked you a question.”

Loki sat up straight and dropped his fork. “Oh, sorry, Erik,” he said distractedly, “what were you saying?”

A second too late, Loki realized his mistake. He and Erik stared at each other with wide eyes, neither of them breathing, until Frèyr and Sigyn broke the silence and tension with their laughter.

Sigyn pushed against Erik’s shoulder and took a sip of her wine. “Calm down, you two,” she said, and patted Erik’s hand. “You guys are safe here.”

Loki closed his eyes and sighed with relief. He should have known. “You understand why we didn’t say anything, right?” He opened his eyes again to see Erik’s terrified expression. “My father, he can’t find out about this. He would be… displeased.”

“You didn’t have to say anything you didn’t want to say, Loki.” Frèyr said, patting Loki’s shoulder. “Besides…” The king looked at his daughter.

“We’ve known for a while now, you both are as subtle as mating bilgesnipes.”

.-

“Is it true you get to leave when the spring is over?”

Erik and Loki were walking down the white cobblestone path toward the castle after class to study together - and other things - less than a month before Loki’s scheduled visit to see his family in Asgard. It had been a long and productive ten years, and Loki had grown in more ways he had ever thought possible, physically, emotionally, and in his power.

Loki smiled down at Erik sadly at this reminder. “Yes, and I am both looking forward to it and dreading it all at once,” he admitted, and shifted the weight of his books from one arm to the other, freeing the one closest to Erik. His hand was close enough to touch Erik without it looking awkward to anyone else who might see, he could put his arm on his shoulder…

“It’s the King, right?” Erik’s question interrupted Loki’s thoughts and he nearly jumped. “And your brother.”

“Am I that transparent?” Loki teased, knowing there had been many times that the two of them spoke of little else. Erik had the intuition and ear of a healer, being Vanir by birth, with the intellect, strength, and reflexes, if not the height, of a future seidr warrior, and many a discussion between them over the years had segued to Loki’s family.

Erik bumped playfully into Loki’s side, making him stumble briefly, and they laughed. “I’ve said this before,” he began, slowing down his walking pace, “but you need to remember, they need to remember, you’re not the kid you were when you got here. You’ve changed - for the better, I think - and you have the power now to prove it. Remind them.”

Loki’s lips turned up in a smile that did not reach his eyes. Grasping Loki’s wrist, Erik pulled him to a stop, staring up at him with a serious expression. “I mean it. You can’t let them walk all over you, Loki. Look at you - you’re thriving, you’re growing, you’re…”

Loki’s stomach clenched and he fought the urge to brush Erik’s wild hair from his face. There was no guessing who might pass them and see. “I’m…what?”

Erik squeezed Loki’s wrist a little tighter and cleared his throat. “You’re a Prince,” he finished, breathing harder than before. “Far be it from me to know the dynamics of a royal family, or question the King, but it has always sounded like you’ve been treated as second-best. You don’t deserve that.”

Loki’s heart warmed at Erik’s words. Somewhere in his mind he knew Erik was right, but he wasn’t sure that he would be of the same level of confidence when he returned to see his family. Loki had made a life for himself here among the Alfar; he had friends, and a boyfriend (albeit a secret one) and he had found new family bonds with the King and Princess, ones he doubted could be broken by distance or time.

“Just... remember what you have here, Loki,” Erik said warmly. “Whenever they get you down or they don’t appreciate you enough, remember what you’ve built here.”

.-

The first day of summer was almost upon them. Term was over, and Loki had excelled once again on his examinations, so much that Master Indilwen had offered him the chance to advance his education through private lessons. It was an honor to be granted such opportunity, knowing Master Indilwen was the most skilled shapeshifter in the Nine Realms. Loki had studied the craft extensively, but lacked the proper guidance. He accepted the master’s offer without much thought.

The night before his departure, Loki was in his chambers, trying to select what to bring to Asgard with him and putting it inside of one of his trunks. The short blond boy sitting on his desk with his legs dangling over the side was something Loki would like to throw inside as well.

“Promise you will write.”

They had had this same conversation nearly every day for the preceding month, but Loki knew Erik couldn’t help the sad whine in his voice. “Every week,” he promised, giving Erik a wink.

“And no ogling over those Aesir warriors, with their tall and sculpted bodies.”

Loki dropped a few journals inside the trunk and looked at Erik flatly. “If the Aesir’s tall and sculpted bodies were my kind of thing, what would I be doing with a tadpole such as yourself?” He laughed and bumped Erik’s leg with his elbow.

Erik huffed and crossed his arms, feigning offense. Loki shook his head and closed the now full trunk with resigned finality. He took a deep breath and walked over to Erik, standing between his knees, leaning on the desk, hands on either side of his boyfriend’s legs.

“I am going to miss you, my tadpole,” Loki said in a low voice, leaning down to press his forehead to Erik’s. He could smell the earthy scent of Erik’s skin, the gentle soapy aroma of his hair and clothes, with just a hint of sandalwood oil. Once again Loki fought the urge to simply toss Erik into his trunk and sneak him into Asgard. What a stir that would cause, he mused to himself.

“Longshanks!”

“Yes, all of them.”

Loki leaned in and kissed Erik before he could retaliate and held there, savoring the feeling of his soft lips and the slight moan he gave when Loki placed his hand on the back of his neck.

“Told you they’d still be in here,” Sigyn’s amused voice rang from the doorway. Loki pulled back from the kiss and turned to see her standing with Gwyn, both of them smiling conspiratorially.

“Alright, boys, time’s up,” Gwen clucked in her mother hen voice. “The Prince has a big day tomorrow and he’s going to need his sleep. Off you go, blondie.”

Erik wrapped his arms around Loki’s shoulders and buried his face in the crook of his neck. Loki felt him stroking his long hair, which now reached almost to the small of his back. He didn’t want to let go - to let go meant accepting that it would be months before seeing Erik again - but Gwyn cleared her throat insistently and Loki knew he had to step away from the desk and let Erik get down.

“Come, now, it’s only for the season,” Sigyn reassured them. “Loki will be back before you know it, you’ll see. You can come visit me in the meantime, Erik, I’ll be preparing for my own exams.” She held out her hand and Erik gave Loki one last peck on his cheek before crossing the room to take Sigyn’s arm.

Loki watched morosely as Sigyn escorted Erik down the hall, and Gwen came in and patted him on the back. “I know it’s hard, love, but the Princess is right - a few months is nothing compared to how long the two of you may end up together.”

“Whatever will you do with your time while I’m gone?” Loki joked, trying to lighten his mood and get Erik off his mind.

“I’m sure I’ll think of something,” she said, crossing her arms with a smile and a wink. “I bet that if I were to dust this room from top to bottom I’d get enough of your stray hair to make a wig.”

Loki couldn’t think of anything else to say - he had avoided expressing his true disappointment in being away to keep Erik from getting upset, and the tears he had held back were threatening to appear. He knew it was pointless to feel this way, because, after all, it was only for a few months, but if truth be told, Loki was not looking forward to seeing anyone but his mother. Maybe Thor, if he dug deep. He brushed Gwyn’s hand away when she tried to pat his arm.

“I don’t want to bathe tonight, I just want to go to bed, if you don’t mind,” he said, in no mood to be consoled. He spoke with a sharp and cold inflection that made his maid frown. She hurried around the room to gather up his nighttime clothes in a pile on his bed and gave him an understanding smile before bowing and taking her leave for the night.

.-

<< Chapter 9  –  Chapter 11 >>

[swtorramblings]

The Last Gunfighter of Zakuul: Duel

Art by the always wonderful @fleeting-sanity, thank you very much. He does not actually have the hat in this story, I asked for it because it amused me.

In the aftermath of the Battle of Korriban, a family continues to break apart. 3300 words. Includes the Zombie Apocalypse section.

She stood overlooking the battlefield. She had saved as many as she could, and killed as few as she could, but the dead still stretched in all directions. Too many to count. And there would be more. There were always more dead, her failures outnumbering her successes. This had not been what she wanted when she fled home. What was the point?

Oh. Of course. This again.

“Father.”

“Vaylin. I cannot believe what you have done to your brother. Was Senya not enough?”

Oh, how she hated him. “Do not speak to me of Mother. I know my weakness put her in danger, but I was a child, and she was in danger from YOU. Because she stood up to you. Every time you mention her name to me is another moment of pain I will some day inflict on you. I’m keeping track.”

“She still died for you. And what of Arcann?”

Vaylin still held onto hope that her mother lived. He lied as he breathed, and hopefully would not be doing either much longer. “I am sorry about Arcann. We should not have fought. But you filled him with rage, then brought about this war that pit us against each other. Do not pretend that you are not responsible, ‘Father’.” She paused, shocked that the realization had not come sooner. “You did this on purpose, didn’t you? What you did to him, this war, my vision. Jarak. All of this was part of your plan. All to get to me?”

He appeared in the dream, smiling at her. “You think too highly of yourself, but only just. Forcing you to return is important, yes, but your brother was weak. Even without remembering his trials, they make him strong, a more powerful weapon in my service. That was also important, to make him equal or exceed his brother.”

She had not thought knowing why he’d done it would make her hate him more than that he’d done it. She’d been wrong. Torturing a child, and he called it “trials”, thought they made Arcann stronger, were doing him some kind of favor. “Your own son. Your wife. Your family.”

“A god has no need of family. You were all an interesting distraction for a time, but I was always going to pursue my ends.”

She scowled at that, saying, “You only need one end, and I am going to give it to you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You cannot harm me.”

“I have beaten everything you have sent my way.”

“But do you not see? You have had some success, yes, but ultimately, you have done nothing but bring about more pain. To your own family, to any friends you may have made. Come home. Your power, as muted as it is, can be put to better use. Take your place with your family.”

She could not believe it. He was actually trying to blame her for the monstrous things he had done. All she said was, “Muted? You think my power is muted?”

“That is what the Gunslingers did. Made themselves weak. You are a fool to have so much faith in their ways. I freed Zakuul of them, perfected the Knights. Gave them something to believe in. And my own daughter makes herself one of a dead order. It is why you will fail.”

“Oh, Father. You think you’re winning. However many times I overcome you, you still think you are the strong one.”

“You are merely…”

“Yes, yes. Every time we speak, you tell me how weak I am, how unworthy I am. How you care and want to protect me. But I am not weak. And your protection comes at too high a price. And this was a good conversation, but it is over.”

“You have no say in that.”

Images of her twin blasters appeared in her hands and she opened fire, not stopping until there was nothing left of the Emperor’s projection. “I believe I do.”

"But, Brother, you cannot do this! She is our sister!"

"We have no sister. She hasn't been since she killed our mother. She has no right."

"But it's not true." Thexan was losing hope. He'd wanted Arcann to accept this, to realize that his hate was misplaced. What more could he say?

"I know you believe that. You are wrong. She has tricked you, and I have paid the price. I do not blame you. She was always clever, manipulative. But you must not try to stop me."

Thexan felt something he never thought he would. He was afraid of his brother. He had been afraid for him, but now that had changed. "What will yo tell Father?"

"The truth. That she was there, that she caused my injuries. That she has betrayed Zakuul and her own family."

"And what of me?"

"I would never betray you. You are family."

Thexan and Arcann knelt before their father. All they had returned with was their injuries, especially Arcann. Finally, the Eternal Emperor spoke. "I sent you out to be conquerors. You have returned with nothing. What do you have to say for yourselves?"

Arcann answered. "We are not completely without success."

Thexan's heart sank. Arcann would betray their sister. His hate was just too strong.

Valkorion responded, "And what is that, son?"

"Vaylin opposes us. She was on Korriban. My injuries were due to her treachery."

There was a long pause. Their father turned from them, staring out at the stars. He loved the stars so, and someday they would be his. Fueling him. In the meantime, he would deal with his sons and wayward daughter. "I expected as much. There was no way she would remain away from my interests forever. She lives in the galaxy, and the galaxy is mine."

"Please, Father, I request a ship, troops. Allow me to hunt her down for what she has done to me, to our family. For her betrayal of the Eternal Throne." Arcann was shouting, furious at their failure.

Valkorion thought about that. She was not yet ready for his needs. She had taken her own power and locked it away. She would need to be forced to unleash it, to be what she should have been. "No, Son. She will be dealt with, but not by you. The forces of the Eternal Throne shall find her again, have no doubt. And then she will pay for her crimes."

Arcann fumed, but did not object. Thexan broke the silence. "What task do you have for us, Father?"

"None at this time. Go, enjoy your home, heal from your injuries as best you can. I will plan our next steps and summon you when I have a use for you. Now, leave me."

The twins left the throne room, both with their own renewed purpose.  Thexan and Arcann had always been able to read each other, to know what they were feeling. Thexan could read nothing from his brother now but his hatred. When they parted, Thexan said, "Good night, Brother."

Arcann closed the door without a word.

He'd had the lightsaber since childhood, when he and Thexan had crafted them against their father's wishes. Now, thanks to Vaylin, he only had the crystal itself left. Thexan had been sure to recover it for him. He sat, staring at it in his left hand, comforted by its glow. He had lost so much to her. She would be made to pay.

No one could know that he was leaving, or why. Thexan believed her lies, and if Valkorion discovered this, Thexan would be punished. He would have no aid. It needed to be done. She needed to die.

He would prepare himself. He had found the recordings that she had used in determining her path, and he would follow them, as well. He had already crafted his new weapon, begun to practice a new way of war. He had modifications to his arm and the mask he wore to be able to counter her Force based abilities, leaving his own power unfettered, unlike hers. He would kill Vaylin on her own terms, with her own weapons.

Only when she was dead would he return home.

He holstered his weapon and went to the space port.

Thexan was brooding. He could not believe they could not reach a compromise on their sister. Why couldn't Arcann see what he had seen? Was there a way to break through to him?

Then, he felt it. An absence that he had rarely felt. His brother had left Zakuul.

It was over. His best friend, closest family, and he had left without a word to kill their sister. How had this happened?

There. He had found her. He called to her. “Vaylin.”

She stiffened, turned. “Brother.”

He was calm this time as he responded, “I told you not to call me that. You have no right.”

“Is Thexan all right?”

“What? Of course Thexan is all right. Why would I hurt him?”

She breathed a sigh of relief. “Because you didn’t believe him. Because you almost killed him once already.”

He controlled his anger at her lies. “What are you talking about?”

She was surprised. “You really don’t remember? When I confronted you on Korriban. You tried to kill me. He stopped you. You were ready to cut him down in your rage.”

“What is this nonsense? He pulled me away from you to protect me, then you tried to kill us both.”

No. How could he believe that? How could he believe that nonsense over his own senses? Thexan had seen. How could Arcann not?

Father. Jarak had put his mind back, as best he could. That did not mean it had been put back well.

“Arcann, please. I know you’re hurting…”

“Because of you.”

“No. You’ve been deceived. Damaged. I should have realized.”

“No, Vaylin. No more lies. No more stalling. I have found you for only one purpose. To end your life. Are you prepared?”

“Please. I can’t do this. I won’t fight you.”

“You have no choice. You will fight, or you will die. You will die, anyway, but it will give me more satisfaction if you are a challenge, at least.”

Finally, she straightened up, dropped her hands to her sides. She hadn’t noticed, he was sporting a blaster pistol himself. Large, matte black, deadly looking. She could feel its energy. It felt like it was straining to escape, to destroy. To destroy her. Was there really nothing left of him? No way to save him? “Very well, Brother.”

This time, he did not object. “Goodbye, Sister.”

They stared at each other across the field. Assessing. Planning for the moment.

“Draw your weapons.”

Three hands reached for three pistols, almost simultaneously, but she was still faster.

She began firing before his pistol could clear its holster. He was impressed. He had adjusted and improved his artificial arm, increasing its speed to several times what any living arm’s. And yet, she was still faster. He grinned under his mask. He had never intended to rely on his speed alone. He lifted his right hand, placing a barrier between himself and Vaylin. The blaster fire glanced harmlessly off of it, and he fired back.

She had to defend herself. His barrier would be too strong to breach while she could not concentrate fire. She jumped back, landing behind the rubble. He had been studying the Gunslinger ways, but was not using them. She could tell, his technique showed that he had practiced how to kill her. She did not know if she could stop him. One of them was going to die here.

No, she would not accept it. There had to be a way to live through this without hurting him. She had no idea what it could be.

Suddenly, her cover exploded, spraying her with shrapnel, forcing her to back away, covering her face. He towered over her, blaster aimed, his face showing a joy she had not seen on it since they were children together. Joy at being able to kill her.

He was too close. She could not avoid the blast as he fired. It was so powerful, it made her armor glow and crackle where it hit. She could feel the heat through it, the terrible pain. She could not help but scream, and fell to her knees. She holstered her blasters, a reflex of countless hours of training. Her arms wrapped around the injury. It was useless, but she couldn’t help it. She felt the barrel pressed to her head. She’d fought so hard, come so far, only to be killed by her own brother. Both victims of their father.

She closed her eyes, could almost feel his hand tense, the trigger being squeezed. She tilted her head out of the way just as the blaster fired. The sound was deafening, and she felt as though the side of her face was burning. “Not dead yet, Brother.”

“It won’t be long now, Vaylin.”

He did not use his blaster, this time simply lashing out with the Force. She was too hurt to resist, and he lifted her into the air, attempting to slam her into the ground, but he was standing too close. Her foot lashed out, kicking him in the uninjured side of his face. The blow was hard enough to knock him to the ground, and he dropped her. She finally had the pain under control, and was able to draw her weapons again. She leaped away, but this time did not bother trying to find cover. It would not last. She aimed her blasters down at him mid-leap, and he erected another barrier rather than firing at her for a moment. The crucial moment she needed.

She fired, not at him, but at the outcropping of stone they had fought beneath. Injured as she was, she still had no difficulty hitting key points, and the rock began to plummet towards him. She was hoping to distract him with tons of stone and dirt.

She was shocked to see that, instead of trying to get to safety, he was aiming at her again. She could see the targeting sensor in the mask, calculating her arc. Not moving.

The great idiot was going to kill them both.

She didn’t need time for calculations. She simply fired on instinct. The falling outcropping was blasted apart, and a falling chunk of rock exploded directly in front of her. That blast would likely have cut her in half.

Arcann was disgusted with himself. The fight had turned almost immediately against his enemy, and he still was unable to finish her. If she weren’t so badly hurt, she might escape. She might still. He exerted his will, knocking the falling stone from the air, striding forward towards where she had leaped. When the air overhead was clear, he reached out and pulled down the wall she was hiding behind. He never thought she was a coward.

She was ready this time. As the wall was falling, she had prepared one of the mini-rockets under her coat. The wall hit the ground and she fired.

He brought his arms up and put up another shield, just in time. It shattered, and he was flung back. He landed on his feet only to have the electronet settle over him. His muscles seized, and he staggered for a moment, but then he simply swept it away with his metal arm, which was unaffected. Surely she did not think this would stop him?

In fact, he could see she didn’t. Her ship flying overhead, her being helped on board by her blasted malfunctioning droid. Before he could take aim, they were out of range. She had escaped. He had beaten her, though, and would continue to dog her until she was dust.

Cassian had wanted to unload the ship’s weapons an him. Vaylin might never recover from the injuries he’d inflicted on her. Of course, the droid had said that several times during their association (she knew Vaylin would say friendship), but she just kept pushing herself further and further.

Vaylin’s last words before she lost consciousness were to not kill him. Of course, Cassian complied.

Her face was burned on the right side. She had internal organ damage and still more burns on her torso. She was bruised and battered and probably concussed. It had been a very near thing. Cassian treated her as she could, placed the mask over her face, and dropped her into the kolto tank at the back of the ship. All she could do was hope for the best.

She looked down at Jarak’s face, twisted in death as she’d left him. She looked around the cave, seeing the bodies of the villagers. Men, women, children, cut down by her blasters. An entire village, and she had slaughtered them.

This wasn’t right. They had been transformed. They had not died as themselves. They had died as rakghouls. But it was still her fault. She could have protected them if she had acted sooner instead of watching.

The bodies shuffled to their feet, looking to her accusingly. Their faces were destroyed, all except their eyes, staring at Vaylin. They were coming for her, to finally take her with them. As she deserved. But, though she had resigned herself, she still fled, and the villagers gave chase.

She reached to where her holsters should be, to put those poor people back to rest, but there was nothing there. She looked down at her hands. A child’s hands. She stumbled and fell in her shock.

She rolled to her side, sighing, and got back to her feet. She gripped the staff more firmly, as the knight stepped forward to test her again. She saw his crushed armor and fear filled eyes. He swung, she attempted to reach out and stop him. Her power was as absent as her blasters. She collapsed again from the blow, as the villagers poured into the arena.

She saw her father, started to call out to him for help, but stopped herself. It was not worth the price. He appeared to chuckle, and turned his back on her, vanishing into the darkness.

The arena was on fire. Destroyed Skytroopers had been smashed on the ground. Her mother had joined the dead Knights and villagers, her body broken, her face a horror. They all pointed to Vaylin, and they were closing in. They would finally end her life for her crimes, both the ones she committed and allowed.

Senya drew her saber pike and walked forward. Vaylin had no defense. Her mother drew back and prepared to finish her.

Wait. No. That couldn’t be right. The others, she could believe. She had wronged so many. But she knew her mother loved her, and would never stop loving her, would never give up on her.

Suddenly, her mother was whole, smiling down at her. She helped Vaylin to her feet, now an adult again, now the Gunslinger she had grown to be. Still, she was also a daughter who had lost her mother so long ago, and wanted these few moments to spend with her. She embraced Senya tightly, and was embraced in return.

The nightmare had become a dream, the dead still present, but no longer accusing. She had her guilt and pain, and perhaps that was enough punishment, or perhaps they forgave her. Regardless, she knew her mother did.

She opened her eyes, and had to wait to be released from the tank. That was all right. She returned to sleep, unafraid, for the first time she could remember, to dream.

[yeats-infection]

y’all -- as you can probably tell i’ve been less prolific this year than last and i feel bad for not being able to share as much stuff! i hesitate to share things unless they are complete, and i have a lot of stuff in process that will be finished sometime, so stay tuned! 

here, however, are some unfinished things i worked on this year that have kind of stalled and won’t go anywhere. i’m still proud of the writing and excited about the premises but can’t motive myself to write more / keep moving on to other things. anyway, i hope you enjoy them :) 

100% part 2 / four ethers these are essentially two different ideas for a sequel to my riverdale fic 100%. four ethers is inspired wholeheartedly by the serpentwithfeet song of the same name and @ababelofprose​‘s urging. i’ve been kind of trying to make some progress on this for a few months, but i am so deeply Not A Fan of the new season of riverdale that i have not much interest in continuing to write in this world. 

minuet this is the beginning of a story about crucia, the premiere wizarding grunge band from seattle in the late 80s and early 90s. i wrote about them a little bit in in the garden. i tried to write this a ton of different ways. i finally settled on this oral history model inspired by the book everybody loves our town. my problems with this were that i could never figure out the motivation of one of the main characters, wray thorne, and that i fell too much in love with a side character, lockett schaff, and kept going on tangents. i’d love to write something about them someday but it will have to be a different format and maybe with different focus characters. in the meantime i’m proud of lots of the ideas here. here’s my tag for minuet on this blog. 

untitled industrial london brothels n drugs tale for @starbuk months ago for some meme starbuk inspired me to think about a story about a man of letters and a prostitute in 19th century london. this is the story resulting from that. it’s in second person and the characters have no names. i had a pairing in mind but will not disclose what it was ;) if anyone can guess correctly i’ll owe you something. 

more to come perhaps at the end of the year. i made some things go places today. thank you guys for being the best. and happy thanksgiving <3