#anyway they were a triad for sure unknowingly

[withacapitalp]

Trust Me

Read it on AO3 instead here. Special thanks to @riality-check for betaing for me!!! I love me some genderfluid Steve Harrington, and writing this was so much fun!! TW: internalized homophobia, internalized transphobia, and a couple f slurs

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It started with the long navy skirt that Carol’s mother got her for her thirteenth birthday. 

Well, maybe it started a lot earlier. Maybe it started with Steve being both Tommy and Carol’s first kiss, or maybe it started with Steve always wanting to play house, or maybe it never really ‘started’ in the first place. Maybe this was just always who he was. 

But Carol thinks it really started with that long navy skirt. 

It wasn’t really Carol’s style. It was floor length and just a bit too long. When she tried it on, the bottom pooled around her on the floor like a rushing river. Her mom promised to get it tailored and told her to hang it up in her closet. 

Carol, in a hurry to get dressed before Steve and Tommy, left it on her desk instead. 

Her thirteenth birthday was perfect. Just her and her boys doing whatever she wanted. They went to Enzo’s for a fancy Italian dinner, watched a romance movie that Tommy pretended to hate, and got two scoops of cotton candy ice cream afterward to split. Her parents even let the boys sleep over in her bedroom as long as they all promised that Tommy and Steve were going to stay on the floor. 

They broke that promise pretty much the second the door was shut, but what her mom and dad didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. 

Carol fell asleep squished between her two favorite people, snuggled in warm and safe. 

She woke up half cold. 

Tommy was still curled up on her left side, snoring and dead to the world, but her right side was chilly, and when she spread her fingers out searching, only the blankets greeted her. 

Steve wasn’t there. 

Carol cracked one eye open, looking past the empty bed and towards the clock on her bedside table. 3:48 am. 

Way too early to be awake, even for an early bird like their Stevie. If it was Tommy, she would’ve just rolled over and went back to bed, assuming he was just getting up to pee or something. That was probably what Steve was doing. Carol didn’t need to worry. 

But…but it was Steve, and Steve had a tendency to get himself into trouble. The little voice in the back of Carol’s head that sounded like her mother was nagging at her, telling her to check on him, telling her to make sure, just make sure. 

So, with a heaving sigh, Carol untangled herself from Tommy’s octopus grip and pushed herself out of bed, shivering slightly when her bare feet touched the freezing cold floor. She scurried over to where her slippers were, jamming them on and walking out the door yawning. 

She was too busy rubbing at her sleep filled eyes to notice the skirt that had been on her desk was missing. 

Light spilled into the hallway from down the stairs, directing Carol to where she would find her missing boy. She decided to slide down the banister to avoid the creaky steps, smothering a giggle and keeping quiet. Steve was probably just getting a midnight snack and watching one of her VHS tapes. Maybe she would join him, and they could watch Robin Hood or Mary Poppins and fall asleep on the couch together like they did sometimes. 

But when Carol finally peeked into the living room, she stopped short.

Steve wasn’t sitting on the couch munching on chips or drinking a soda, and the television was dark. He wasn’t sitting at all, actually. Stevie was standing by the big accent mirror her mother put in the corner of the room, looking at his reflection as he idly twirled back and forth. 

That wasn’t the part that made Carol freeze in place. 

She froze because he was wearing her new skirt. 

It looked like it fit him wonderfully, actually. Steve had shot up like a weed last year, growing practically a foot in height, so the maxi length reached almost exactly halfway down his calves. His waist, which had always been tiny, looked positively perfect. If it was another girl trying it on, Carol would already be gushing about how cute it was. 

But it wasn’t another girl.

It was Steve. 

Her Steve. One of her boys. One of her boys was wearing a skirt, and it was a definitive fact that boys did not wear skirts. She would’ve figured it was just a joke, something stupid to make her and Tommy laugh, but then why would Steve do this in the middle of the night when they wouldn’t be awake to tease him? Why would he come downstairs when everyone else was asleep?

Why did Steve look like he was about to cry? 

Any thoughts Carol had about poking fun at him disappeared. Steve never cried. Never ever. She hadn’t even seen him cry when he broke his wrist falling out of the tree in his backyard. The only time she had ever seen Steve cry was the first time his parents had missed one of his basketball games, and she hadn’t even ‘seen’ that, just heard it through his locked bedroom door. 

(She didn’t like to remember that day. He had been crying so loudly it carried through his whole house. Carol guessed Steve never learned how to do that quietly, considering there was no need. His parents weren’t there.)

Sure, they liked to mess with each other, and Carol was never afraid of saying something that other people might be too sensitive about because she knew Steve could take it, but something about this just felt…different. 

“Stevie?” Carol called, stepping into the room. He immediately stiffened up, the soft slope of his shoulders growing rigid with fear. Steve looked at her from the reflection of the mirror, not turning to face her properly. 

He looked completely terrified, and that just wouldn’t do. She didn’t know what to say or think about a boy wearing a skirt, but she did know how to deal with Steve. 

“It looks pretty,” Carol said with false lightness, walking into the room and standing behind Steve in the mirror. She tried to catch his eye and give him one of her sweetest smiles, but it fell when Steve avoided her gaze. 

“It doesn’t,” Steve muttered, curling in on himself and grabbing at the hem of the old t-shirt he was wearing as pajamas, “I look silly.” 

“I think it’s pretty,” she argued back.

Yes, he did look kind of silly, but she couldn’t stand seeing him make himself small like that. Steve did that whenever he was talking to his mom and dad, he would hide himself away and try to take up less space, but he never did that with her and Tommy. Carol wasn’t going to let him start now. Not because of this. 

“It is really pretty, Stevie,” Carol added on, reaching out to put her hand on his shoulder, “The cut is nice, and it makes your waist look so small. I wish mine looked like that! Plus the color compliments your-”

“I look ridiculous, Carrie,” Steve interrupted harshly, jerking away from her before she could touch him and squeezing his eyes shut tight, “Like a fag, a sick freak.” 

Carol left her hand hovering in the air, her stomach disappearing. Those weren’t Steve’s words. Steve would never say something that mean. 

Carol knew she could be mean sometimes, and she knew Tommy could be even meaner other times, but that was only to people who deserved it. Steve was never mean, even to people who deserved it. He was a total sweetheart, soft and gentle, and he needed her and Tommy to protect those soft gentle parts of him.

The parts that would hurt if he heard things like that. The parts that would hold onto words like those, waiting for the perfect moment to turn them inward and hurt himself. 

He had gotten those words from somewhere, and Carol was pretty sure she knew where. But no matter who had said them or about what, she knew she needed to make them go away. 

Somehow. 

“Well, it does look a little weird,” Carol started, quickly continuing when she saw Steve’s lip starting to wobble, “But not because it’s you wearing it! Just… that skirt really doesn’t work with your PJs. Wait, wait right here, I have an idea. Trust me.” 

She scampered up the stairs, practically flying into her room and rooting around in her closet, throwing things left and right. When she found what she was looking for she gasped in delight, a sound that was just loud enough to make Tommy snuffle slightly away. 

“Go back to sleep,” Carol said in a soft sing-song voice, pausing briefly in her mission to skip over and press a quick kiss to Tommy’s cheek. 

She loved Tommy, and she knew Steve loved Tommy, and she knew that Tommy loved both of them, but this still didn’t feel like something that they needed to share with him. At least, not just yet. 

Luckily, Tommy hummed happily and turned over, going back to his snoring. She chuckled quietly to herself and began to walk out, grabbing the big jewelry box from the top of her dresser as an afterthought. 

Steve was still standing exactly where she had left him, looking out of place and uncomfortable in his body. The words ‘sick freak’ were still burning in her chest, and she could see them written on his features. 

The other word was there too, but Carol couldn’t think about that word. She used it, and Tommy used it, but never for real. Steve had said it for real, stamping himself with a label that didn’t fit right. 

Yeah, he and Tommy had kissed a couple times, but Steve had also kissed her a few times, and she kissed Tommy all the time. It was just something they had as friends, practice for when they got real boyfriends and girlfriends. That didn’t make them fags. That just…it made her boys her boys. That was all. 

No matter what, Steve wasn’t a freak, and he definitely wasn’t sick. He was the coolest boy in school, her very best friend. He was soft and gentle where she and Tommy were hard and biting, and the three of them worked perfectly. Everyone looked up to them, everyone wanted to be them. Anything he wanted to do was right.

So if Steve wanted to wear something pretty, then Carol was going to make sure it was absolutely perfect. 

“Here,” Carol said, handing over the sweater she had been looking for. 

It was cashmere, soft and buttery to the touch, with a cream and dark blue striped pattern. Her uncle had gotten it for her in Paris, but he always got things way too big. It was ‘so she could grow into it’, but Carol really hoped she would never grow into an extra extra large. 

Steve took the sweater from here, but didn’t move to put it on. He just held it, rubbing his thumb along the fabric and staring down at it with a strange longing. 

“Go on. It’ll match way better,” Carol urged, nudging his shoulder with her own and stepping back. He stayed still. 

“Trust me,” Carol repeated, keeping her face open and honest. 

Steve tossed her an unsure look but did as he was told, hesitantly pulling his t-shirt off and slipping into the sweater. Without the pajamas clashing, the skirt looked even better, and Steve was even starting to cautiously admire his reflection again. 

“Now let’s tuck it in,” Carol said, pushing away any lingering confusion and moving straight into business mode. She didn't have to think about whether it was right for Steve to want to wear a skirt, she just had to make sure that it looked good. 

She pulled Steve so he was back directly in front of the mirror, standing behind him and reaching around. She tucked the bottom of the sweater into his skirt, fussing for a second to make sure it wasn’t bunched up anywhere and smoothing down the creases where his broad shoulders didn’t quite match up to the way the sweater was cut. 

“Give me a twirl,” Carol ordered, spinning her finger the way her mother always did when she had Carol try on something new. 

“Twirl?” Steve questioned, standing awkwardly. 

Carol nodded eagerly, sitting on the coffee table and putting her jewelry box down next to her. She never really liked it when her mom made her do this, but it was enjoyable to watch someone else. Carol had always wanted a sister to play dress up with, and while this wasn’t exactly the same, it was still pretty fun. 

Now that she was getting into it, it didn’t really seem all that strange to her, and the longer she looked at Steve in her clothes, the more normal it all seemed. It was just dress up, just something fun to do with her very best friend. Didn’t best friends try on each other’s clothes all the time? Tommy and Steve practically shared one wardrobe. 

This wasn’t that weird. Just dress up. 

Steve continued to just stand there for a minute before taking a deep breath and spinning in the smallest fastest circle she had ever seen. His face was beet red and he was staring down at his feet, but Carol could see the smile starting to grow on his face. 

She made another teasing circle with her finger and Steve twirled around for her again, bigger this time. She giggled, and he answered with his own quiet laugh. The air in the room was growing bright and warm and Carol hopped up from her spot, grabbing Steve’s hand and tugging him over to the couch. 

“Time for accessories,” She declared, dragging her box over and opening it. It was stuffed to the bursting with tons of different bits and baubles, and Carol began to root through it, picking out a few things she thought would match. 

“Do I need these?” Steve wondered aloud, looking wide eyed at all the different options. 

“Accessories make an outfit, Stevie,” Carol said, parroting the words her mother always said to her. 

She put a bunch of her silver bangles around one of his wrists, and her favorite blue and white polka dot scrunchie around the other. None of her rings would fit Steve’s fingers, and his hair was too short for his hair was too short for any of her ribbons or to make a braid, but she did find a few star and moon barrettes to clip in that looked nice. 

Carol pulled back to look at the whole outfit, tapping her lip with the tip of her finger. There was still something missing, something not quite right. 

“Oh!” Carol said, realizing what was wrong. She reached up behind her own head, undoing the clasp and reaching up to put it around Steve’s neck instead. 

“Wait, what are you-”

“Trust me,” Carol crooned, continuing to put the necklace around Steve’s neck. When the clasp was locked in place, she fixed the chain, arranging it exactly as she wanted. 

“There, that’s better,” She said with a satisfied smile. 

The locket was gold, which didn’t exactly match what she was trying to do with his ensemble, but it was the thing that was missing. Steve and Tommy had gotten it for her for her tenth birthday, and both of their pictures were inside, along with one of her baby teeth.  

It was cheap, and her mother didn’t like it very much, but they had saved all of their pocket money to get it for her, and it was Carol’s prized possession. She never let anyone else touch it, and the only time she took it off was to take a bath or grab a shower. 

She could feel its absence now, the lack of weight that was usually there on her neck, but the sensation didn’t fill her with the usual anxiety it caused. She knew it was in safe hands. 

Out of the three of them, Steve was always the gentlest.

Steve looked lost again, reaching up to touch the locket in silent wonder. The bracelets around his wrist jangled against each other, and he almost startled at the sound, unused to wearing any jewelry. She snickered, opening up one of the other drawers in her box. 

“Do you want some makeup?” Carol whispered conspiratorially, pulling out her secret eyeshadow and mascara, “My mom doesn’t know I have these, but I swiped them from the department store a couple months ago,”

Steve quickly shook his head, staying uncharacteristically silent. Carol could tell he wanted to say yes, and she really wanted to try and see if she could do a better job on him than she did on herself when she tried to put it on, but she held back. Steve was brand new to pretty clothes, and doing too much at once would probably be overwhelming. 

He already looked pretty shocked as it was. 

“Okay. Now let’s look properly,” Carol said, clapping her hands and pulling them both out of their thoughts. 

She held out her hand and Steve took it, interlocking their fingers. Carol passively thought about different nail polish colors she could try on Steve as she walked them both towards the mirror. He probably wouldn’t like pink, but maybe baby blue? Or white with little stickers. That could look nice. 

Or maybe this was a one time thing. Maybe Steve would look at his reflection and totally hate it and never want to try again. 

That’s what Carol should want, right? It wasn’t normal for boys to want to put on pretty clothes, and it would be better if Steve decided he didn’t like it. 

So why was she so hopeful that Steve would like how he looked as much as she did? 

“How do you feel?” Carol asked as they reached the mirror, looking anxiously at their reflections. 

Steve looked like himself still, but changed, evolved. It was like those soft parts of him- the gentle ones he kept hidden just for Tommy and Carol- were finally on full display, and the result was gorgeous.  

The lean muscles that were starting to develop on Steve’s arms from swimming practice were hidden under cashmere stripes, and the barely there baby fat that was starting to fade made her want to squeeze his cheeks. He had a sweet smile on his face and he kept glancing shyly from the mirror down to his hands and back up to the mirror. It was like he was scared to see himself, but couldn’t look away. 

“Pretty,” He whispered, his voice filled with awe, making Carol’s chest brim with light, “I feel pretty.” 

“No,” She whispered back, leaning her head against his upper arm and beaming, “Trust me. You’re beautiful.” 

“Beautiful,” He repeated, holding the word reverently on his tongue. Carol stood on her tip toes and kissed Steve’s cheek, wrapping her arms around his bicep and going back to looking at their reflections. 

Carol’s mom never ended up getting that navy skirt tailored, because she never saw it again. When she asked her daughter, Carol played dumb, telling her it was in the laundry or missing somewhere in the house. 

Her mother never found out that the skirt and the sweater that had never fit Carol now lived in the back of Steve Harrington’s closet, hidden inside a fabric bag behind a box of old baby clothes. 

[indiavolowetrust]

THE OBEY ME BOYS AS RPG BOSSES: NEO-OSAKA

LEVEL 1-7

LEVEL 8-10 

FINAL BOSS

ENDINGS (YOU ARE HERE)

You are one of many modified humans in Neo-Osaka. A relic of your brief time in the criminal underbelly. Your adopted little brother, Luke, has been kidnapped by a criminal syndicate known only as The Devil Triad for unknown reasons. Simeon, his upperclassman, is the sole witness of his kidnapping. Armed with your trusty katana, the healing microbots in your blood, and  the information Simeon has given you, you venture back into the underworld of Neo-Osaka to save your brother.

Word Count: 2,621

TW: Blood, Violence, Mention of Drug Use

BAD ENDING

Deal the killing blow to one or more bosses

Reduce Luke’s health to less than 50% while fending him off

Lose the final battle with Simeon

You’ve done plenty of bad things in your life. Plenty of stupid things, too. You’ve dealt Rose behind pharmacies, you’ve taken out more than a few inconveniences as a former triad underling, and you’ve stolen what little belongings the residents of Neo-Osaka have. You’ve intimidated business owners into submission, you’ve aided in various kidnappings, and you’ve killed possibly innocent targets without even questioning your actions. Slaughtering the prominent members of the Devil Triad is only another tick on your long list of misdeeds. Unknowingly killing off the only family of the Devil Triad’s leader – well, you can’t say you expected anything good to come out of this.

Yet the guilt gnaws at you from the inside.

You were sent by loan sharks to kill off two adults, you remember. A no-good father that took debts out in his wife’s name and a wife that simply gambled the money away. You remember it as if it were yesterday: there was a severe thunderstorm that day, forcing your boots to sink in mud, and it had been enough to irritate you. The two targets fell easily beneath your blade. The television played some advertisement for the up-and-coming company, AkumaGen. The lights flickered with the storm. They were just about to sit down for dinner, you gathered, judging by the scene. A simple meal of rice, pickled plums, and steamed fish was on the table.

And then you had realized that the table was set for three. A possible witness was in the house.

You aren’t sure what you had expected that day. A quick search had yielded almost nothing in the way of anyone else, despite your thorough methods. No cowards in the closets. No good-for-nothing underneath the bed. A sound had captured your attention, fumbling and muffled, and you had turned to face it with your katana held before you. Whoever it was would meet a nasty surprise, you had decided. You would behead them before they had the chance to scream.

Then a blonde-haired, blue-eyed boy of maybe two or three years of age had toddled into the hallway, clutching a blanket, and something had changed in you.

The memory is enough to cloud your mind with nostalgia. Almost, anyway. You’re not sure if you can completely remove yourself from the current situation, considering the agony of being dismembered.

There is only the sound of Simeon’s laughter, cruel and mocking. It reverberates in your skull as he tears you limb from limb. As he takes his time with each act. It would appear that he knows more about the microbots in your body than you had expected: while you can heal from most mortal wounds, you can’t exactly grow back an lost finger or two. Arms and legs are certainly out of the question. And so Simeon simply tears off a piece of a limb, allows the microbots to repair it, then repeats the process. Your screams echo in the massive chamber.

You do not know when it is that shock overtakes your body – time has long lost its meaning – but you are glad that it does. You watch the insensate Luke out of the corner of your eye as Simeon continues his torture. Your eyes begin to glaze over.

Luke is breathing, at least. Simeon had never intended to kill him, considering his usefulness in his research. You can only hope that Luke’s mind will fall apart as quickly as possible. If his mind were to remain intact – no, you can’t think about that now. Rather, it’s useless to think of something so depressing. You are at death’s door now, despite the modifications to your body. It’s only matter of time.

You find yourself reaching towards him with your remaining arm. Simeon quickly snaps it.

Raising and protecting Luke as your own little brother is the only good thing you’ve ever done. You can’t even do that right.

GOOD ENDING

Spare all bosses (do not deal the killing blow)

Do not reduce Luke’s health to less than 50%

Win the final battle with Simeon

You’ve asked yourself time and time again if you’re doing the right thing. If what you’re doing is enough to pay for your misdeeds. While the question is completely and utterly stupid – you’ve committed too many murders – you find that the question is an everlasting presence in the back of your mind. A quiet, nagging feeling that tips you in the right direction. And then it is joined by more questions: Is this enough to pay for your sins? Would you forgive yourself if you did this? Would this make Luke happy?

While Diavolo had thought that you had killed off his family – which you had intended to, at first – you can’t say with certainty that they are truly dead. The questions had stopped you from butchering the Sleeping Bull. You had merely rendered him unconscious. They had stopped you from simply tearing open Beelzebub’s stomach and taking the pills for yourself. You had only dealt blunt, heavy strikes to his stomach until he was forced to spit it out. You had left an insensate but alive Asmodeus in the heart of the Pink Scorpion, trusting his employees to take care of him, and you had simply dismembered the non-living parts of that irate librarian’s body. A bit of your modded blood had allowed the dockmaster’s body to patch itself together again, albeit slowly. You had manipulated the force of the plasma gun’s recoil back onto Mammon, using his own brash, unthinking nature against him, and you had left a massive but ultimately non-fatal injury against Lucifer’s abdomen. You had allowed the scientist to pin himself to the floor using his own abilities, the glass shards skewering him by the shoulder and ankle, and you had merely disabled the chip in the head of security’s cybernetic body. You hadn’t attacked Diavolo with murderous intent.

Most of all, you had never meant to hurt Luke. You hadn’t even bothered to raise your sword at him. You had only spoken soft, soothing words towards him, begging him to snap out of his addled state. Even as he had thrown your body against the concrete, cracking your ribs, you hadn’t raised a finger to defend yourself. Even as he left gashes in your flesh, warbling incoherently, you hadn’t allowed yourself to unsheathe your weapon. Luke had left puncture wounds on your body, broken more than a few of your bones, and nearly sliced through one or two of your fingers – and still you hadn’t bothered to defend yourself. Luke was already half-dead and exhausted.

When he finally came to, his mind returning to its former state, you nearly matched him in his condition.

But you won’t die. Not here, and certainly not now. If you’re going to die, then you’ll take down the monstrous bastard in front of you first.

The abomination that Simeon has become holds the stumps of his limbs in pain, howling in agony. Luke uses all six of his wing-like appendages to carve through the flesh of the abomination once more, tossing him to the ground, and you take the opportunity to dash up one mutilated arm. Despite your injuries – more than a few of your fingers are broken, you’ve lost almost too much blood, and you’re sure you’re missing part of an arm – you force yourself forward. You raise your weapon for one final strike, aiming for his neck.

You feel yourself make contact with your target. Darkness overwhelms your vision.

* * *

The world is a pure, rich white when you awaken. Confusion clouds your thoughts. While you hadn’t really believed in an afterlife in the first place, you’re more confused as to why you’ve ended up here. Here being some sort of heaven, that is. You find yourself merely gazing into the pure nothingness for a few moments, allowing yourself to take in the strange sight.

You realize stupidly that there are only bandages in front of your eyes.

Multiple appendages around you before you can tear them off, nearly crushing your bruised organs and cracked ribs, and you let out a gasp of pain. Something warm and wet soaks through your thin clothing and blanket. It drips profusely against your cheek from above as the unknown figure simply takes you into their arms and sobs.

“You’re awake!” Luke cries, hugging you tighter. You let out another squawk of discomfort. “I – I thought you – they told me that there was a chance that you wouldn’t wake up. I never meant – I didn’t mean for any of this to –“

Luke, you force out. Could he get off you for a second? You aren’t trying to die twice.

“Oh! Ah, um, yes.”

Luke pulls away the bandages over your eyes as he does so, taking care not to treat your body so roughly again. Pats down the bit of hair that’s inevitably gotten ruffled by the action. You blink away the harsh lighting of the hospital – at least, you think it’s a hospital – and take the opportunity to take in your surroundings.

Countless tubes are connected to your body. Holo-screens of all kinds surround your plain bed, monitoring your vitals, and there are more than a few chairs scattered about the room. More than one person has sat around to watch your recovery, it seems. A rather expensive-looking skylight allows sunlight to filter into the room, the light itself reflecting off the many pearl-white furnishings within. It’s bright enough to make your head hurt. You raise a hand to rub your temples, only to realize that –

“They said they couldn’t save your arm,” Luke explains with an apologetic tone. His gaze flickers to the stump of your shoulder and away in shame. “That – that was my fault. Your other one is fine, though.”

So it would seem. You flex the fingers of your remaining hand, feeling them move under the white bed sheet, then use it to rub your temples. While there are many, many questions running through your mind, the sudden pang of hunger in your belly preoccupies your thoughts. You feel as if you haven’t eaten in days. If this is a hospital, then shouldn’t they have a cafeteria of some kind?

Luke nods. “Kinda. I’ll go get it for you, if you want. Ah, wait!“

You wave off Luke’s concern as you use your remaining hand to grip the side of the bed, intending to get up. You’re perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, despite your injuries. Only potential blood loss would be a problem. Now, if you can just figure out where your clothes and katana are, then you can two can head back home. You’re not exactly patient enough to be discharged, considering your nearly supernatural ability to heal.

“Oi!” a familiar voice calls out, stopping you momentarily. You blink. “Ya aren’t allowed to leave until ya get all healed up. Boss’ orders.”

You turn to see the greedy treasurer standing in the doorway, one arm casually propped against the frame. He eyes you irritably through orange sunglasses. Despite being unarmed, habit forces your remaining hand to your side. You grit your teeth.

“Y-you!”

He raises his hands in surrender. “Can’t fight here, darlin’,” he says. “I’d prefer  not to, anyway. The damage ya caused was hell to pay, and I ain’t exactly the cheapest person around. They’re still fixin’ the walls right now.”

Yeah? Well, you’ll make sure they have to fix another one after you put his head through –

It takes a few minutes for Luke to stop an all-out war between the both of you. Luke managed to revive the boss of the Devil Triad with his own blood, he explains, which was a risky gamble. Yet it was one that had paid off: Simeon hadn’t exactly been lying when he said that Luke’s blood was a panacea of some sort, despite his own adverse reaction to it, and Diavolo’s body was damaged enough to accept the impromptu blood transfusion with limited problems. Bringing him back from the dead had been enough to incur a debt on his part, as had the miscommunication regarding his underlings. Lucifer and Mammon’s presence had been proof of that.

Despite the positive details of his explanation, there are more that worry you. Simeon’s body had vanished from the scene, as had a number of vials containing the results of his experiment. Diavolo and the Devil Triad aren’t sure if Simeon was working alone, given the ease of his infiltration, or if he was working for another group. Luke’s body will never be quite the same either: despite his roomy jacket and partial mask, you can still see the vestiges of his monstrous form. His wings, while tucked in, will be difficult to conceal amongst the common populace. Your left arm will never grow back, and the presence of your healing microbots would likely present a challenge if you did want a cybernetic limb outfitted.

“I still haven’t forgiven ya for ruining that suit, ya know,” Mammon growls as he escorts you and Luke down the hall. His expensive shoes clack against the marble floors of his mansion. “I don’t expect that yer gonna take it upon yerself to pay for it, either.”

He shot you in the arm, shoulder, and through one of your feet, you point out. There’s no chance in hell that you’re gonna pay to get his suit fixed.

Luke prevents another fight from breaking out between the both of you. As it would turn out, his wings are very, very sufficient in the task of keeping you both separated.

* * *

You stare at Diavolo’s outstretched hand half an hour later, despite the amiable smile that he gives you. Unlike before, you sense that this one is genuine. One that truly expresses gratitude. You’ve done him a great service for preventing such a dangerous drug from being spread amongst his territory, he explains, so it would only be natural that he would give you the freedom of choice. He had nearly beheaded you, after all.

But if you would be so generous as to aid him in tracking down the true perpetrator’s behind Simeon’s actions, he would be eternally grateful.

The questions make themselves known in your thoughts once more, analyzing the choice presented before you. Are you doing the right thing? Is this enough to pay for your sins? Would you forgive yourself if you did this? Would this make Luke happy?

The answer is a full and resounding yes.

His skin is cold when you shake his hand. A side-effect of Luke’s strange, panacea-like blood, you would guess. Mammon huffs somewhere behind you, lingering in the doorway, but he fails to say anything on the matter. Luke’s smiling, half-morphed face only encourages your decision.

Raising and protecting Luke as your own little brother is the only good thing you’ve ever done. You intend to change that.

[one-leaf-grimoire]

“triad”

Chapter 7: the new advisor

Lisa gets used to her new job and continues developing her strategy to defeat the Spade Devil. She meets someone special.

AO3 link

"Devils.... an attack in six months... it's enough to stress anyone out."

"I know, but at least all the captains have agreed to train hard."

I let out another groan and scratch my head, blinking away the exhaustion in my eyes. Barely a week since I was coronated, and things have gotten severely complicated. Luckily for me, being Wizard King is not much different from being an advisor to the Wizard King,  but that's not the hard part. The curse in the Heart Kingdom ended up being one placed on the Heart Queen herself: Lolopechika. It would kill her in a year, and originated from a devil in the Spade Kingdom. 

"Megicula...."

Marx looks up from his paperwork, his skin illuminated by the candlelit chandelier above. The word comes as just a whisper, my eyes out of focus as I stare blankly at the paperwork in front of me. Then, I let myself smile. 

"I suppose this could be worse... like you said, all the captains agreed to work together at the meeting today," I finally say, my voice piercing the silent office in the night. "And if I can lead this nation through a war... that surely means I'm worthy of this title."

Yes... but only if we can win.

"Yeah, you're right. But all that's going to be six months from now. I suppose you have a plan to get stronger yourself?"

"Yes..." I nod slowly, finally meeting his gaze with my own. The candlelight fails to reflect from my eyes. "Sort of. Defeating a devil could be difficult even for me, even though I'm classified as an arcane mage." I let out a soft groan. "Damn... if only I got to fight the Word Devil before."

Marx nods, his eyes flickering around the room as he considers the options. "Well, why don't you ask someone who was there? Yami, Asta, Yuno... or the Elves!" Marx smiles and holds up a finger. "Some of the Elves might know more about Devils than we do."

"Ooh, good idea!" I sit up in my chair, newfound energy filling me.  "I'll go ask right now!"

"What?! No! In fact-" Marx stands up to halt my escape. "You should go to bed! You can go see the elves after your doctor's appointment tomorrow."

"Bed? Marx, you know-"

"You need it! I know you used to not sleep, but... you're not alone in that body anymore-" Marx gulps nervously. "You need to eat and sleep like a normal human for the next nine months, to ensure the baby's health!"

Like a normal human. 

Finally, my shoulders slump in defeat. "Fine... I'll be up early, though." I let myself yawn, brushing by Marx on my way out. "I wish I didn't have to stay up so late all the time."

"You and me both. Should I hire another advisor?"

I pause for just a moment. A new advisor hasn't been hired since I was. 

"...sure."

"Good. I'll have some applications on your desk tomorrow morning."

"Thanks, Marx."

In the whole Kingdom, only four people knew that I'm carrying the child of the late Wizard King. The first, of course, is me. The second was Saida, the elf who resided within my and ended up posessing me during the recent fight. She sensed the baby and told me about it before she was released. Third is Marx, and lastly is Owen, the Royal Doctor. 

"Well, everything seems to be progessing normally."

His Qualle Operation spell removes itself from around my body, and I sit up on the examination bed to watch him write down some notes. "So? How far along am I?"

Owen cocks his head slightly as he thinks about it. "Probably about 8 weeks, maybe 10 at most." He shakes his head slightly, still thinking. "It's strange... for years, repeated examinations of your body proved to have the same results: on every level, it operates differently from a regular human's. And it still does... for the most part." His brow furrows. "Your stomach and reproductive organs were somehow reverted back to their normal state before the conception... this examination proved that much. The rest of you is the same."

"8 weeks..." My eyes widen. "Wait... that was back when I fought Vetto! And his curse crippled me-"

"That's right! And the only way you were saved was by the magic blood the Black Bulls obtained from the Witch Queen, I remember that much. The time lines up..." Owen gives me a smile. "Well, that's just a theory. In any case, you might go back to normal after the birth. I'll check up on you often."

"Right!" I swing my legs off the bed to stand up. In any case, speculating about this miracle is useless to me now. It's not like I want to have any more children after this. "I have a busy schedule today."

"I'm sure, your Majesty."

I doubt... I'll ever find a love like Julius again. 

"See you later, Owen."

There's just one fact that bothers me: In six months, the baby won't be born. 

And I can't fight if I'm pregnant... so will I have to let the others fight the Devil alone?

"It was nice of you to invite us here, Miss Wizard King."

Miss? Mrs., actually! I think, my fingers tightening around my coffee mug. It's a petty matter, but somehow I don't feel all that angry at the tease. In fact... it almost feels familiar. In a way, it's pleasent... because it makes me focus on Rhya instead of the other elf sitting across from me. 

"My pleasure. I actually have a few questions for you... you see, I don't remember much about that fight in the Shadow Palace."

"Ah, that's right! You were possessed!" Rhya chuckles a bit to himself. "By Saida, too, my sincerest apologies!"

I shake my head a little. "She wasn't that bad! At least, from what I saw of her life. We have similar taste in men, after all, so I bet we would have gotten along." Maybe, but that's not what I want to talk about! "Anyway... what I do know is that she didn't face that Devil herself. We may be facing a similar threat very soon."

"...what do you mean? Is there another Devil?"

The voice makes me freeze up for just a second. 

Remember... it wasn't his fault. 

He was manipulated. 

He was scared. 

He was used. 

And yet...

Rhya narrows his eyes, glancing between me and Patri, an icy tension growing even thicker between us. 

... I needed to invite him, because he saw the Devil along with Rhya. But- maybe I should have invited just Rhya-

"...yes. In the Spade Kingdom."

I raise my mug to my lips and take a long sip, the hot liquid rushing down into my stomach. The warmth calms me for just a moment. I can't let my feelings get in the way... this is something I have to do.

I squeeze my fist under the table. 

"We have six months to get stronger and defeat this devil. Of course, this includes me. I thought, if Saida encountered this Devil and fought it, that I would remember now. But-"

"Yeah, no, she didn't fight it. However, she was close to doing so." Rhya finally speaks up again, sensing the tension relax a little. "You see... for just a minute,  she and the Devil were together. That bastard possessed our friend Ronne, and used his body to hide among us. I didn't think much of it at the time... but when Ronne saw you, he became noticiably tense."

Patri nods along. "To be fair... everyone was a bit tense around you. I mean- around Saida." I frown, wondering if I should be offended at all. "Most elves shared similar attributes to their host human, but Saida had an extra one when she awakened... Time. She developed it rapidly, the increased mana giving her powers you didn't have at the time. When she showed up while we were with Ronne, she floated about how she had control over all aspects of time... I fought you before, but I had no idea why you had that mana... the mana that belonged... belonged to-"

The longer he spoke, the tighter my fist became. I stared at him blankly, my eyes only moving as I blinked. The movements of his mouth became fuzzy, the words mushing together. A symphony- no- a cacophony- the sound of a dull, burning rage swelling within me, desperate to be taken out upon him. 

Say his name, scum... say the name of the man you killed-

"ANYWAY- When Saida gloated to us, Ronne got real tense."

Unknowingly, Rhya steps between us. The swell relaxes, draining out to leave nothing behind once again. 

"Because she was that powerful?" I finally speak again, looking at Rhya again.

"Maybe... and he immediately sent you off to help Fana. Somewhere where you couldn't fight him." Rhya rubs his chin sleepily. "He was a Devil... and yet, he was afraid to fight you."

Afraid... to fight me? So... I posed a threat to a Devil back then. Was it just because of the magic? Or...

"Rhya... Saida, she was Simulcian, wasn't she?"

Patri glances at his friend, who freezes mid-yawn. Then, he looks back at me. "Well, I didn't know about that until recently-"

"I didn't ask you."

I don't snap at him, the words come out calmly. But Patri falls silent immediately. 

"Yeah, Saida only told a few people. But yeah, her father was a Simulcian." Rhya glances at Patri, almost like a warning. I can only imagine what's going through his head right now, but he probably wants to avoid escalating any hostility. "I never saw him- no one did. We just assumed he was one of those travelling elves. But Saida never got one of those marks-" He points at my head. "And she only ever had flame magic."

"I see..." I rub my chin as I think about it. "Elves and Simulcians are distinct species, just like Humans and Elves, or Humans and Simulcians. So it makes sense that not all traits would manifest in an elf hybrid, not even traits that manifest in a human hybrid. But when she possessed me, she got those powers... and amplified them with Elvish mana. My body still remembers that mana, and I can use it at the same capacity. So..."

For the first time in this conversation, I smile. 

"The Spade Devil might see me, a Simulcian, and feel the same way the Word Devil did."

The power to strike fear into an unearthly creature... I have that power. Because, at the end of the day, I'm not a human, am I?

"But I still need to get stronger." I shake my head, suddenly remembering my pregnancy. "If no one else can defeat the Spade Devil in six months, I need to have the power to do it with ease... even when dealing with a serious handicap. That would be a worst case sceneario."

"Handicap? Like what?" Rhya raises an eyebrow, and I know he's searching for any sign of the truth on my face. Not because he holds any malice towards me; but because he's nosey. I shift uncomfortably in my seat. 

I'm not ready to tell anyone... much less these two. I glance at Patri, who knows better than to voice his own curiousity. 

"... it's a secret. And none of your business!"

“Fine, keep your secrets!” Rhya scoffs, shooting me a drowsy grin. “Damn, you really are like Saida sometimes… secretive and stubborn.”

“Is that so? Well…” I’m not exactly sure how to take it, so I brush the comment off. It’s true, there’s a lot of shared experiences between me and my elf counterpart; our family, our powers, and even our taste in men. The first Wizard King, huh? He was here, too, but I hardly noticed him before he left. Maybe that’s a missed opportunity, but one too late to dwell on. “Thank you for your cooperation.”

“No problem!” Rhya glances at Patri, who is still silent, sitting a little awkwardly now that he senses this meeting’s end after he’s hardly contributed anything at all. I called him here because he faced the Devil, but ended up ignoring him. 

And that’s the best thing I could do right now. Because if I allow myself to think too hard about it…

“One last thing…” I set my empty mug on the table. “The Devils… where do they come from? And what do they want? And-” My brow furrows a bit. “Do they have any history with the Simulcians?”

“Well, I don’t know much. But they come from some sort of underworld, a dimension that exists separately from our own,” Rhya explains, slinging one of his arms over the back of his seat. “That Word Devil’s true name was Zagred. The only reason he managed to get into our world was because we opened a door for him.”

“A door…” I repeat, nodding along, my gaze automatically moving to Patri without thinking about it. “That door was opened with one of the magic stones, right?”

He looks a bit surprised that I’m speaking to him, but Patri recovers quickly to respond. “Right… it seems like they can only travel here with assistance from the overworld.”

“So… as for Megicula… someone in the Spade Kingdom must have opened a door for it as well. But why?”

“Not for any good reason, I imagine,” Rhya answers. “They used it to curse the Heart Queen, and they’ve already used it to conquer much of the Diamond Kingdom.”

“Yeah, I know that much.” I shake my head, the situation seeming darker and darker every minute. “We’re next… but I wonder what Megicula is getting out of this.”

We already know that some devils will work with humans. Asta’s devil seems to be an ally, for now at least, and also the Devils that he possesses. But that’s a whole other can of worms. I suspect we’ll have to call back the spy before much longer. I’m pulled from my thoughts as Patri speaks again.

“As for the Simulcians, not much is known about their history,” he says, keeping his eyes fixed on the table. “I didn’t know about them until recently, in fact. Even now, I admit that I don’t fully understand your powers… but-” He straightens up, strength returning to his voice. And for once, I don’t feel the usual surge of hostility towards him.

Patri isn’t evil… I know that much. In fact… maybe he can be quite useful to me.

“It’s lucky that you’re part Simulcian, and those powers allowed you to gain time magic. Because of that, the Clover Kingdom has a powerful arcane mage at its helm, one who will intimidate even Megicula if you’re lucky.” His shoulders slump slightly, but he doesn’t break eye contact. “I promise… to pay for my sins, I’ll do everything in my power to help you and the magic knights defeat this devil. It’s the least I can do.”

...sins…

...pay…

Patri… don’t worry about that. Your justice will come one day, from my own hands.

“...thank you.”

The words surprise even me. Words that I never expected to say to the one who killed Julius.

“I expect you to do everything I tell you to.”

“Of course, your majesty.”

“... come on, Patri, you can call me by my name.” I give him a little smile. “We used to be friends, right?”

His golden eyes widen slightly, shining with shock, guilt… and respect.

“Of course.”

-

“Well? So, did that conversation help at all?”

“Yeah, a bit.” I squeeze my clasped hands behind my back as Marx and I walk through the castle on our way back to the office. “I know what to do now… I need to go talk to my relatives. I don’t know why, but I feel like the Simulcians have some sort of history with the Devils. I may be able to tap into that history through synchronization, and unlock some information that could help us defeat Megicula.”

“History?” Marx repeats, looking a bit worried. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… well…” My footsteps slow to a stop, right by a large window. I take a moment to peer down into the city, the Kingdom that doesn’t know the threat that looms over it. 

“Every creature has a natural enemy. A sparrow and a hawk. A cheetah and a gazelle. Maybe… maybe it’s wishful thinking-”

The power to strike fear in an unearthly creature… 

“Simulcians may be the natural enemy to Devils.”

Marx and I stand there in silence for a few more seconds as my words sink in. Then, I suck in a breath and turn back to him with a smile on my face. “But that would be too good to be true! Natural enemy or not, I’ll defeat the Devil if I have to. But-” I turn to keep walking, my hand coming up to touch my stomach. “I might be handicapped badly at that time, so I’ll need your help to bolster the knights as best we can. Got it?”

I glance back to see him standing there, still thinking about what I said. “...right! And of course, I don’t want you fighting any Devils if you’re pregnant!” he finally answers, jogging a few feet to catch up to me. “Or overworking yourself for that matter…”

“Oh, right!” I grin at the thought. “You found some advisor candidates right?”

“Yep! You probably forgot to look at them this morning.”

“Marx, I’ve been busy! It’s all right, I’ll look at them now-”

Mid-sentence, I turn the corner and run right into someone coming the other way.

“Ouch!”

“Ah!”

I stumble back and look down to see the person I knocked to the ground. “Oh! Are you alright?!” I quickly offer them my hand.

It’s a girl, probably about my age, still dazed from being bumped. She blinks a couple times up at me, her pale yellow eyes slowly filling with a dawning recognition. Then, her mouth drops open.

“Y-Y-Y-”

Uh oh-  I gulp, knowing that there’s several things she could be about to say. She probably didn’t expect to run into the Wizard King today… well, I can just tell her it’s alright and move on-

“Y-your eyes…”

Her voice trails off for a moment after those unexpected words leave her lips. 

My… eyes?

Out of all my features, my eyes have always been my least favorite. It’s not something I like to think about, but they isolate me as something unusual, even before I manifested the mark on my head. All Simulcians have black eyes, eyes that reflect no light, eyes without pupils, eyes like a black hole that sucks up everything around it. They’re cold, empty eyes, but no one dares to say anything about them.

And yet…

Julius would stare into them for hours. He’d study their depth, not as if it were an oddity, but as if it were some incredible secret he was desperate to understand. 

And now, this girl, with her pale eyes the same shade as morning light, let those words pass her lips.

I don’t really know how to react. I don’t know what she’s feeling. I don’t know why that was the first thing she noticed.

But a moment later, her own eyes widen tenfold and she lets out a strangled scream. “AH! WAIT! Y-YOU’RE-” She suddenly drops to the ground, pressing her forehead against it in some kind of weird bow. “You’re the Wizard King! And I just ran into you! Oh god, I’m so so so sorry! This is all my fault, I’m so disrespectful, please execute me!”

She continues to babble on, and both Marx and I stand there, stunned at the barrage of apologies coming from this girl. “Uh… it’s okay, really!” I finally say, and she freezes. “No harm done… it happens to us all, aha-” I don’t know why, but I get real nervous the moment she looks back up at me. “Well… apology accepted? I’m not going to execute you, don’t worry-”

I cut myself off when several things dawn on me at once.

This girl.... She’s pretty. Objectively pretty. She’s curvy in all the right spots, tall, her eyes doe-like and her lips plump. Her face is round, delightfully so. She has a smattering of moles over her face and down her exposed neckline, beauty marks that look pleasant on her skin, which itself is a warm shade of tan. Everything about her is… soft. Her hair is pulled back into a bun on the top of her head, dark blue, almost black. The one imperfection on her whole being is her bangs, which look like they were hacked to pieces by a serial killer. Yet, they still frame her face so well…

But what really makes my blood run cold is her clothes. Well, it’s more of a nightgown, sheer and thin, almost indecent, the plunging neckline hanging dangerously loose over her…. Large figure. It’s an outfit I’ve seen before… and there’s only one reason why she would be wearing it in this part of the castle.

She’s… one of the King’s women…

One of Augustus’s….

“You… where were you heading just now?”

The mere mention makes her eyes fill with a puddle of emotion. Fear, sadness… repulsion. Before she can open her mouth to answer, I hold out my hand again.

“Come on, you’re coming with me.”

The girl blinks, stunned once again. “H-Huh?” Despite her confusion, she immediately reaches up to take my hand. By the time I pull her to her feet, she understands the gravity of the situation. “W-Wait! I-I have to go, or else the King-”

“If the King notices you’re gone, he’ll have to go through me to get you back.” I give her a comforting smile, ignoring the shock on Marx’s face at this impulsive decision. “Now, come on… we have a lot to talk about.”

I tell Marx to go away as soon as we get to my office. The girl nervously sits down in a chair, watching as I walk over to my desk. She gulps once before speaking. “Uh… thank you…”

“Don’t mention it,” I say, picking up my robe, which was draped over the back of my seat, before returning to her side. “Many women have been hurt by that disgusting man… including me.” Her eyes widen a bit as I hand her the robe. “Put this on… you look cold.”

Her eyes linger on me for a moment, but then she smiles. “.... thank you.” She quickly wraps it around her bare shoulders, looking as comfy as can be. The sight strikes a strange… familiarity within me. Julius used to wrap me up in his own robe all the time. Especially on cold mornings… the heat coming from my body always warmed it up in no time for him. That’s probably the reason why this girl looks so cute right now…

“I’m sorry for troubling you,” she finally says, her eyes drifting away from mine. “I look terrible today, too… to tell you the truth…” She points at her messy bangs. “I cut my own bangs on purpose this morning. I hoped he would see them, think I’m ugly, and tell me to leave!” She giggles a bit, but there’s sadness in the sound. “I was so excited to work in the castle… but I never knew this was the job until I got here.”

“That’s… terrible.” I clench my fist at my side, angry flaring up. Damn that Augustus… right when I thought you couldn’t get any worse.

“But! Now I’m here! I don’t know what I’m going to do now, though…” She sighs and suddenly holds her face in her hands. “I’m going to be in so much trouble…”

“Hey! It’s alright. I told you, I won’t let anything happen.” She lowers her hands to see that I knelt down in front of her, giving her a gentle smile. “Tell me… what’s your name?”

She’s transfixed. Hypnotized. For a brief moment, I feel a bit uncomfortable at the way she stares into my eyes. What did she mean before… what is it about my eyes she felt the need to vocalize?

“Adeline. Adeline Lethe.” Her answer is soft, almost timid. 

“That’s… a pretty name. Adeline… would you like me to fix your hair?” 

Her face lights up. “Yes! Er- I mean, only if you’re not busy-”

The scissors are already in my hand. “It’s fine! I enjoy cutting hair…” Even though I’ve never done it before… I think. Well, Julius was good at it, so I will be, too. 

I snip away carefully, and Adeline stays perfectly still. “So… what kind of magic do you have? I assume you’re nobility.”

“Yes, I am!” she responds. “But, I’m sorry to say that I’m not all that powerful or anything… My magic is celestial precognition. But it’s only in flashes… I only see things right before they happen, and there’s never any time to change it.”

“Huh… interesting…” She’s clearly not telling me everything, so I prod a bit more. “Even just a little warning can make a difference, though… but what’s the celestial have to do with it?”

“Well… I see those flashes through nature. The alignment of planets, the pattern of the stars, the position of the moon and sun… I translate those into the future. I don’t know, it’s hard to explain… mostly it’s useless, which is how I ended up in such a bad job…”

“Nonsense! In fact, I think it’s amazing!” Her eyes pop open in shock as I smile down at her once again. “Not many people have that kind of power… and…”

An idea occurs to me.

It could be helpful to have someone who gets flashes of the future by my side…

“Marx?”

“What is it?  A problem?” Marx answers through his communicator.

“No, no problem… I was thinking about that new advisor…”

I glance over at Adeline, who’s standing in front of a mirror and admiring her new haircut. 

“I think I found one.”

[hamliet]

MDZS’s Trios and the Quest for Balance

That moment you are researching for a meta you want to write because you noticed a trope present in multiple character dynamics in MDZS (and almost worked into your Xue Yang meta but then chose not to because the meta didn’t necessarily need it to make its point) and then realize TV Tropes identified it as well. 

Anyways. The trope I’m talking about is the so-called “Freudian trio.” A quick disclaimer: saying “Freudian” in a literary context is not akin to licensing or giving any credence to Freud’s misogynistic BS. I can’t stand Freud’s writings but his theories are based on commonly used symbols within stories, and recognizable as patterns in society, so even if you like me hate Freud, the literary theory named after him can still be relevant and fun to analyze with.

There are a lot of trios within MDZS, and many of them fit this trope. A Freudian trio is wherein each character fits the description of a superego, ego, or id, and the ways they interact with one another also reflect the theoretical interactions of the superego, ego, and id. This article is a pretty accurate description of them. 

The id is instinct. It’s all the desires we have, whether or not said desires are societally acceptable and/or realistic, and is not concerned with others but with satisfaction of these desires. The ego is the part of us that makes decisions (in Freudian theory, not reality) and as the article succinctly sums up:

operates according to the reality principle, working out realistic ways of satisfying the id’s demands... like the id, the ego seeks pleasure (i.e., tension reduction) and avoids pain, but unlike the id, the ego is concerned with devising a realistic strategy to obtain pleasure. The ego has no concept of right or wrong; something is good simply if it achieves its end of satisfying without causing harm to itself or the id.

The superego is developed by society and is more or less controlled by morality. “The superego's function is to control the id's impulses, especially those which society forbids... It also has the function of persuading the ego to turn to moralistic goals rather than simply realistic ones and to strive for perfection.”

So let’s turn to MDZS, because of the seven trios I want to talk about, five of them are almost perfectly structured with a Freudian dynamic.

*art taken from the audio drama because it’s gorgeous and the donghua*

The first one is the three main characters: Lan WangJi, Wei WuXian, and Jiang Cheng. Lan WangJi is rational and controlled by society’s morality (at least at first, but we’ll go there later) and is the superego; Wei WuXian is the ego, and Jiang Cheng is the id.

Despite being the least societally acceptable of the three, Wei WuXian seeks the wellbeing of Jiang Cheng above everyone else, and even though Jiang Cheng is certainly not a character completely unconcerned with others, his selfishness is absolutely a flaw of his. (An ‘id’ character in a trio is probably going to be less... easy to get along with.)

And then we have the Venerated Triad of the Three Zuns.

Nie MingJue is the superego, obsessed with morality (but in contrast to Lan WangJi, without empathy), Lan XiChen also cares a lot about morality but mediates between the superego and id characters. And the id character is of course Jin GuangYao, whom Nie MingJue repeatedly clashes with.

If Nie MingJue wants to do the right thing because it’s the right thing, Jin GuangYao wants to do whatever benefits him most, and Lan XiChen wants to do the right thing while also helping his brothers.

In the junior trio, we have Lan SiZhui as the superego--but he is even less rigid than Lan WangJi about morality (hooray theme of society slowly getting better).

Jin Ling is the id, and Lan JingYi is the ego--he’s very obsessed with the right thing and yells at “Mo XuanYu” and Jin Ling for perceived rudeness, etc., but also isn’t exactly proper himself.

Next, the Yi City Arc trio. There are actually two trios here and they form different roles. Xue Yang is the id (shocking no one, I’m sure) in both. In one version of this trio, Xiao XingChen is the ego, and Song Lan the superego, because Song Lan is the one driven most by right and wrong, who refuses to consider that Xue Yang might have changed when he confronts him again. Xiao XingChen falls between the two.

In another version of the trio, though, we’d have Xue Yang again as the id, A-Qing as the ego, and Xiao XingChen as the superego, because he’s the one concerned with right and wrong and moral instruction within this trio’s dynamic, and A-Qing is concerned with that and also with her own desires (which I spoke of in the Xue Yang meta).

And the Yi City Arc trios reveal something I think is interesting about all these Freudian trios in MDZS. There is (almost) always a fourth person who will have a profound impact on the trio’s dynamic, if not completely blow up the dynamic, and this fourth disruptive person also appears in two other trios that aren’t quite as Freudian.

For the main characters, it’s Wen Ning, who receives almost as much focus and development as do the main three, and who changes their dynamics throughout the story. Firstly by helping Wei WuXian and Jiang Cheng, then by his revival causing friction between Wei WuXian and Jiang Cheng, then by exposing the truth about the golden core.

For the Venerated Triad, it’s Nie HuaiSang, someone they all consider a little brother as well. He sees the dynamic the three of them do not, and will use it to expose Jin GuangYao’s crimes... and cause Lan XiChen to kill Jin GuangYao.

For Yi City, for the first trio of men, it’s A-Qing, who brings Song Lan back and then exposes the truth to Xiao XingChen--or part of the truth. For the second trio, it’s Song Lan, whose arrival changes the dynamic of the three living in relative peace.

For the Jiang siblings--a trio of Jiang YanLi, Wei WuXian, and Jiang Cheng--it’s Jin ZiXuan, whose love with Jiang YanLi causes friction with Wei WuXian, and of course, Jin ZiXuan’s death breaks apart Jiang Cheng and Wei WuXian, and causes YanLi to sacrifice herself to save her brother.

For the Jin sons--a trio of Jin ZiXuan, Jin GuangYao, and Mo XuanYu, it’s their fourth sibling, Qin Su, whose tragedy does help expose the horrific way all four of Jin GuanShan’s children were treated.

(This trio is somewhat Freudian in that Jin ZiXuan is the most societally acceptable, Jin GuangYao tries to be but is also concerned with desires, and Mo XuanYu is literally cast out of society for being unable to control himself--but we never see the three of them interacting together hence why I am not quuuuite calling it a Freudian trio.)

There is not a fourth person for the three juniors, however, at least not who fits this pattern. Why?

Part of me would wonder if it again ties into the idea of slow progress in society. Most of these trios end in complete tragedy, in self-destruction really due to a lack of honest communication and empathy--which again is relevant to the fact that it’s Freudian and Freudian components require these parts to work together for a fully healthy self. If there isn’t a balance between the three, people can self-destruct (according to Freud).

Both Yi City Trios all wind up dead. Two of the Venerated Triad die and the third is brokenhearted and in seclusion, the Jiang siblings lose one and the other two were estranged, and none of Jin GuangShan’s children survive--but his grandchild, Jin Ling, does.

The main character trio also all survives, and as I wrote here, there is hope that the relationship between Jiang Cheng and Wei WuXian will mend--and they obviously still love each other. Not to mention they are both involved in Jin Ling’s life, so they will be working on it, albeit slowly. And Jin Ling, like the other juniors, symbolizes hope. The three of them are all sneaking out on night hunts together, night hunts that go against societal nor,s and they all ship WangXian despite what society says. So perhaps a fourth character simply isn’t necessary for their dynamic, because it doesn’t need to be shaken up.

But why is there such a focus on Freudian symbolism in the dynamics within MDZS?

Well, the use of these common patterns helps reinforce several themes. Freedom for your own desires (notably sexual desires as well) and the consequences thereof, societal restrictions, and empathy are three of the main themes that the story effortlessly braids together. Many of the trios fail to regulate themselves and bring out the best in each other, and bring about destruction instead thanks to society and other factors. But as the main character and junior trios grow in empathy and restraint and maturity, they symbolize both society’s future (the junior trio) and even the ways in which current society can be healed (main character trio).

As for how society can heal... the main character trio did self-destruct and there was enmity between Lan WangJi and Jiang Cheng for what happened to Wei WuXian, but they get a second chance. And through this second chance we see the mending. Lan WangJi and Wei WuXian’s relationship exemplifies all of the above-mentioned themes. They’re yin and yang (their outfits are deliberately colored to leave us with this impression) and they both need to move in each other’s direction: Wei WuXian needs to regulate himself more, and Lan WangJi needs to let go of his internal fears and shame.

This theme of balance is most directly symbolized in Lan WangJi’s forehead ribbon. Wei WuXian, unknowingly, teases him about it, that it’s crooked (that his sense of self-regulation is crooked). It then really is crooked, and Wei WuXian’s attempt to help just rips it off, which enrages Lan WangJi because it’s unintentionally exposing exactly what Lan WangJi wants to keep secret: that he has feelings for Wei WuXian.

But the ribbon isn’t a symbol of regulation, but a symbol of love, which controls virtue. Lan WangJi using it to tie Wei WuXian up in one scene is symbolic of how their love enables Wei WuXian to grow in a more self-controlled direction, while also allowing Lan WangJi to give up some control and express his true feelings and who he truly is.

And it’s the juniors, those symbols of hope, who notice the ribbon. So again perhaps it circles back around to how the juniors and the main characters are learning to do better, and how society even if it is slow to progress does progress, and redemption and reconciliation is possible. Lan WangJi and Wei WuXian’s marriage is a light symbolizing this even to Jiang Cheng, and the ribbon is redeemed from something that caused friction to something that symbolizes their growth. Even though Jiang Cheng and Wei WuXian do not reconcile fully by the end of the story, Jiang Cheng does defend him and rages at Su She for framing him for cursing Jin ZiXun, so there’s hope for healing and balance between the three, even if it is slow.

[eremika0000]

Hey guys, I'm back with another chapter! Thanks for the feedback so far, it means a lot! I hope you enjoy! Sorry for the little delay.

N soars through the skies on his Reshiram, the harsh winds whipping against his face and hair. His eyes were narrowed in concentration. I need to get to White as soon as possible and make sure she is okay… I have no idea how much Team Plasma could have in this short amount of time.

Reshiram seems to sense its master's urgency and flies as fast as it can.  As Reshiram and N fly, he doesn't have much to do while waiting to get to Sinnoh.

Vacation… Hm? I really want to see White again… I want to talk to her… But I would hate to ruin White's vacation with news of Team Plasma… I am probably overreacting about Team Plasma anyways, they said they wouldn't be looking for her for a while, and I can protect her when she gets back from vacation. But I want to make sure she will be okay, just in case… Plus, White probably doesn't even want to see me, especially on her vacation. I don't deserve her friendship after everything I did, either. She was nice to me at the castle, but she was most likely only being kind because that is her nature to do so… She really is a kind person in and out...What do I do?

N strokes his Reshiram's head, soothing the dragon. “Friend, can I ask your advice?” N asks Reshiram. The dragon cooed in response. Ask me anything, master. I'll do my best to provide advice.

“Someone important to me, White, could possibly be in danger from Team Plasma… I left the organization after I realized their true intentions, but I heard them say they want revenge on White. There is a low probability that they could reach her on her vacation in Sinnoh, but...” N's thoughts clashed back and forth as he continued to think about what he should do. He really wanted to keep White happy and he didn't want to ruin her vacation with his presence and with low chances of Team Plasma bothering her.

But, what? Reshiram wanted to help their master. They didn't like seeing him so conflicted.

“But… I don't want to ruin White's vacation. There is a very low probability of Team Plasma's interference with her, but I don't want to leave her unsafe… But I also don't want to mess up her vacation… She always looked so exhausted when I saw her on her travels.” Guilt begins to consume N. “I think she was always so tired because of when I told her I wanted to free Pokemon in Nimbasa city. Before I told her, she always seemed energetic. When I challenged her at Nimbasa, I think she rushed herself too much…”

If you don't want to ruin your friend's vacation, perhaps you could keep watch over her instead from afar? This way she can enjoy her vacation and she won't have to worry, and you can assure her safety. You can inform her of the possible threat once she returns. If something happens, you will be there to protect her.

N nods to himself, liking this plan. But his mind strayed to that time when he had talked to White in Chargestone cave. He had told her that after mentioning White and her friends once to Ghetsis, he had apparently sent the shadow triad after them for a little while to find out about them. He remembered White had seemed unhappy with this. It was clear she didn't like this development, and N felt distressed by this, for some reason worrying that she was unhappy with him as well.

“I don't think White would like being followed… I don't want to make her uncomfortable...”

No worries, master. You can keep your distance and this is for her safety and happiness. You said you wanted her happiness to be the top priority, so this will make her the happiest. She doesn't have to be aware that you are looking out for her.

It's for her happiness. N thinks to himself. I will look out for her so she doesn't have to worry. It is my responsibility to keep Team Plasma at bay.

“Thank you, friend.” N scratches his Reshiram between the ears, knowing that was where it liked to be petted. It cooed again, liking the affection. N smiles brightly to himself, joyful that he had a way to keep White safe as well as happy. She could get the rest N thought she rightfully deserved, without all the stress.

The pair soared through the skies for a while longer, and the recognizable mass of the Sinnoh region grew closer and closer overtime. “Reshiram, I want you to land at that area next to the lake. Since we are significantly farther away from Sandgem town, White shouldn't be able to see our approach if she is already there.”

Reshiram growls lightly in acknowledgment as is descends onto the land next to the lake.

Meanwhile…

White had just put her Pokemon in the PC box after their dismay. They wanted to battle the trainers of the Sinnoh region, but White was exhausted from Pokemon battling for a while. She wanted to take this week to relax rather than being constantly badgered by all the Sinnoh trainers. She had told them this was their time to relax and promised them many battles once they returned to Unova.

White was pleased to find that the little town had opened up a small market where they sold a few basic items like clothes, food, and supplies. She remembered with an annoyed groan that she had forgotten her swimsuit in her rush, and Sandgem town was known for it's beautiful little beach. She ended up buying a swimsuit at the little market that was too skimpy and revealing for her taste, but it was the only one in her size. The swimsuit was a bikini black with white stripes. Not only was the bottom part of the swimsuit a bit cheeky that showed too much butt cheek for her liking, it also seemed to be a push up swimsuit top which was uncomfortable and revealing and she felt like people would stare at her chest. But White was pleased to find that upon reaching the beach, it was deserted except for her.

Once she had reached the beach, she unwrapped the towel from herself and let herself free, running into the ocean in all her bikini glory. No one was around to watch her, and she could do whatever she wanted. She splashed about, loving how refreshing the water felt on her skin. She looked up, and noticed how blaring and bright the sun was overhead.

Crap, I'm still a little burnt from the flying yesterday. I should apply sunblock this time… Luckily I always keep a bottle in my bag.

White trudges out of the water and lays her beach towel out on the sand and lays upon it. She takes out her sunblock and begins to lather it across herself.

Meanwhile…

N hides in the thick forest next to Sandgem town, glad that these trees were so close together and would easily disguise him. He kept his eyes peeled for White. Currently he was frantically pacing around, stressed and worried that he had not laid eyes upon her yet. He remembered hearing somewhere that Sandgem town was known for its pretty beach, so he headed towards the sound of the ocean to see if she was perhaps sightseeing there.

However, N didn't expect to see a barely clothed White in a strange position on the beach. N gasps when he sees her, his cheeks quickly growing hot. She was currently bending over for some reason, appearing to be rubbing sunblock on her legs. Her cleavage was exposed to N as she was bent over, and his cheeks burn in embarrassment. He wasn't sure why watching her felt so wrong, he had learned recently that swimsuits were a normal attire at a beach. Perhaps it was because she was bent over and unknowingly exposing nearly all of herself to him, or because he feeling a strange rising in his pants. He had awkwardly been informed before that the stiffness between his legs was normal and usually meant sexual arousal, the desire to mate with someone. He didn't quite understand why he was feeling this way about her, or what he should even do about his arousal, but he couldn't keep his eyes off her.

Why am I feeling like this? This never happens… I know White doesn't like to be watched, I shouldn't watch. He tears his gaze away, looking down at his feet instead in shame, and the obvious bulge in his beige pants definitely wasn't making him feeling any better about the situation. N relaxed as she had finished applying sunblock and had decided to take a nap, mostly covering her body with a towel so she wouldn't sunburn. He allowed himself to watch her now, and occasionally scanned the surroundings to make sure nothing suspicious was happening.

A few hours after White had fallen asleep, N had started to relax when noticed that a pair of stocky and somewhat intimidating looking men had approached the beach, looking to be in their early 20s. One of the men pointed at the sleeping White, snickering. “Look at this babe? She's sleeping? I think I'm gonna help myself to a little touch. She's quite the looker, don't you think?”

The other man smirked. “Yea, she doesn't need to know. Just a little touch, since no ones around. Heh.”

N feels his entire body tense up. He wasn't sure what they were planning on dong to White, but they seemed like trouble. He walks out of the trees slightly and steps into the sand, his fists clenched.  He stares down the pair of men, his blue eyes menacing and staring daggers into them.

You won't harm White.

The men take a step back, a bit taken back by N's expression. One of them says quietly, “Fuck, I don't wanna make a scene. Whatever, let's get outta here.” The men scurry away, their tails between their legs. N smiles, happy that the threats to White had left. Just then, he hears White's little moan as she suddenly throws the towel off her body, stretching with her eyes still closed.

N's eyes widen as he quickly rushes back into the trees for cover. White had just opened up her eyes when he had gotten behind the big tree again. He breathes a little sigh of relief, grateful she hadn't caught him. He averts his eyes again when he notices her swimsuit, his face burning again. His stomach was doing somersaults as his hands shake in nervousness. For some reason, seeing her like that unnerves him, and he didn't know what to do about all these new reactions he was getting from his body. His knowledge in the intimacy category was very limited from all the years he spent locked away in his room.

“Crap!” White shouts, and N jumps up a little at her sudden exclamation. “It's already getting dark out…” White facepalms, shaking her head to herself. “I can't believe I slept for so many hours!”

N thinks to himself. It felt like time went by so fast…

White stands up, wrapping her towel around her body again. I'll head back to the Pokemon center and stay in my room for tonight. I'll head to Jublilife city tomorrow to do some real shopping. Maybe I'll even pick up some souvenirs! I hear they have a ton of stores.

White grabs her bag and begins heading for the Pokemon center. N watches from afar, angling himself so he could see her going into the Pokemon center.  She enters, and N wonders what she is doing. When she doesn't appear for a long time, he assumes she is sleeping in one of their little hotel rooms. He finally relaxes for the first time, knowing she will be safe at the Pokemon center. He walks a bit deeper into the forest and finds a tiny clearing between the trees and bushes where he can fit his sleeping bag. He sets up his little camp and lays inside the sleeping bag, waiting for sleep to come to him.

I am so relieved to see White is okay, but I need to make sure nothing happens to her during her stay. Team Plasma could appear at any moment, and I need to be alert for that. I also need to be awake early in case she wakes early as well. I need to see when she leaves so I can follow. I'll get up at sunrise. N allows his mind to rest for the first time in a while, and is sleeping within minutes of laying down, exhausted from the day.

The next day…

N awakes, his muscles feeling uncomfortable as soon as he was conscious. Sleeping on the sleeping bag outside for 2 days in a row had definitely left its toll on him. He looks up, and is alarmed to see that it was past sunrise, which was the time he planned getting up.

No! Did I oversleep? What if White left already? What if Team Plasma found her? No!

N quickly stuffs his sleeping bag into his bag and sprints for the Pokemon center, various branches cutting at his skin. People in the town stare at him wide eyed as he dashes into the Pokemon center. He quickly approaches the front desk, scaring the woman working at the counter. “Hello! Are all the hotel rooms taken here?” N tries to compose his voice, but the urgency was taking over, and the poor woman looked terrified at his frenzy. “Um… No sir… We have only one hotel room at this Pokemon center, but the last occupant left a little while ago. Would you like me to book you a-”

“No thank you, bye!” N abruptly cuts the woman off and dashes out of the Pokemon center, heading north towards the next city.

No, no, no! I'm such a fool. I overslept and White already left! She could be in danger because of me! This was supposed to be her vacation… I tried to think about how to make her happy, and I thought I could handle watching over her for a few days…

N dashes through the route to the next city, leaping over the high ledges to take a shortcut. The people on the route watch him with wide eyes and open mouths, wondering how he managed to leap over those big hills like for the shortcut. N is relieved to see White's familiar figure in the far distance, her big brown fluffy ponytail giving her away. He breathes a sigh of relief, his pace slowing as a big smile grows upon his face. But it is short lived, as a very young trainer in the distance who had probably spectated N's fantastic hill jumping was pointing in his direction with a look of awe. N's gasps, knowing this was bad. The trainer was in front of White, so she would probably notice the trainer's astonished expression and  pointing hand and would no doubt look behind to investigate. N had just begun to run behind a tree to hide when the trainer looks over to his friend who was standing nearby and shouts, “DUDE! Look at that green haired guy! He was like doing parkour stuff on the hills!”

Meanwhile, White hears this, and she gasps.

Green haired guy? N? Is he here? There can't be too many green haired guys…

Her heart flutters in excitement as she spins around to see what the trainer was looking at. She swears that she saw a flash of green hair, but it as gone in an instant as soon as she got to take in her surroundings behind her.

“Dang, that dude's fast! Where did he go?” The trainer's friend exclaims in wonder.

White is curious, and she can't help but to hope that it could be N, although she doubted it. She backtracks a little, scanning her surroundings for the so called green haired guy. She found nothing, and let out a big disappointed sigh.

Of course he wouldn't be here… Why am I getting so excited…

White sighs again before heading farther into town.

Meanwhile, N heaves out a big thankful sigh, glad she hadn't found him.  Although he wasn't quite sure why she had turned back and sighed so much.

He waits for her to travel a while up the road before slowly following, making sure to avoid that annoying pair of trainers that had nearly exposed him.

White enters Jubilife city, and N does so a few paces behind her. He hears her big surprised gasp as she takes in the city. It was incredibly crowded, and there were various shops lined with Pokemon goods that were visible even from the entrance of the city. She squeals in delight and sprints down the streets, going to check out the merchandise. A certain shop stand caught her eye, it was filled with Pokemon dolls. She runs straight towards it, her eyes lit up in excitement. She looks at all the dolls, and a certain doll catches her eye. It was an adorable Zorua doll, and it made her think of N, since he had a Zorua.

If I see N again, I want to give him this… I hope he will like it.

White quickly hands over some cash to buy it to the vendor, and N curiously peers out behind his tree he was hiding behind to see what she had bought. A little smile grows upon his face as he realizes she had bought a Zorua doll.

White walks away from the vendors after checking them all out, and squels again to herself as she hugs the new doll close. “Oh, N will love it!” She carefully tucks it away in her bag with a big smile on her face.

N's eyes widen.  She bought that doll just for me? A big smile forms on his face as a fuzzy feeling warms his heart, and he blushes to himself. She is so kind… No one has ever gotten me a gift before…

White skips around the city, clearly in an elated mood. She was currently imaging finally finding N and giving the Zorua doll. She wanted to see him truly smile in joy, she hardly ever saw him smile. She heads towards the west exit of the town, curious to see what was over there. It was clearly less crowded, and she was curious as to why. N follows closely behind, keeping himself hidden by buildings.

She wanders farther and farther into the western part of the city, curious as to what it held. Strangely, the very crowded city now was growing desolate of anyone, and by now she didn't see any people passing by anymore. This part of the city looked less friendly, the buildings were a bit shady with ivy growing everywhere and some windows of the glass on the buildings were cracked, signifying that it was probably abandoned.

Just then, she notices something wedged in between two buildings. It was a fallen potion, and it was at the end of an alleyway between two large buildings. She was lucky she had noticed it, it was quite far down the alley and it looked to be in perfect condition.

I can use this for my Pokemon! I'd better grab it…

White heads down the alley, a bit uncomfortable at how deserted this part of the city was. She wasn't sure why it was so devoid of people, but she found it creepy. As she headed farther down the alley to get the potion, she assumed that the buildings that were on either side of her were run down apartment buildings, since they had house numbers on them and a few had worn down welcome mats. She hoped that the people who lived here didn't mind her passing through quick to grab the potion.

I'm just gonna get this potion and then head back towards the center of the town, it's seriously creepy how it's so desolate on this side of town. It looks like a scene straight out of a gang movie.

A door which sounded like directly behind her suddenly opens, causing White to gasp and jump up in panic. N was currently watching from the front end of the alley where she entered, trying to keep hidden but having a hard time seeing her at the dark end of the alley. He gasps too, surprised at the door suddenly opening. It seemed like no one lived on this side of town.

“Hey there, little girl. I suppose it's my lucky day to have such a catch waltzing right past my apartment. I'm glad I noticed you outside my window or I would have missed out...” A man steps out of the apartment in the alley, cackling sadistically. He corners White against the narrow alley, smirking deviously. N has just begun to move towards her to rescue her when White shrieks as the man suddenly grabs hold of her by the waist and tosses her carelessly into his apartment. N screams, running towards the man as he hears a sickening crack which he assumes was the sound of the impact of White's back hitting the floor after the man had thrown her into his apartment.

N was too far away, and he only made it halfway down the alley when the man had shut the apartment door behind him, leaving N stuck in the alley by himself. The last thing N heard was the man's booming sadistic laughter and White's painful shriek muffled behind the closed door.

Thanks for reading, guys! I hope you guys review, it motivates me a lot and I love to know what you guys think! Whether it be criticism or compliments or just anything, I'm glad to hear it. Anyways hope you enjoyed and please stay tuned for next chapter! Have a nice day!