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yeonchi · 2 years

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Kisekae Insights #27: Sea Princesses Part 5 (Deep Dark Daniel/Animated Series 15th Anniversary Special)

(Art by Liamasterink)

15 years ago today, the Sea Princesses animated series premiered in Australia on the Seven Network. Since then, it has been dubbed into other languages and broadcast in over 50 countries, including Brazil, Latin America and Spain (but ironically, not other important countries like the US, UK or even Japan). For over a decade, the fandom this series attracted has been fleeting due to the series’ length, format and nicheness, but thanks to my efforts in reviving the series through the Sea Princesses Wiki and this Tumblr from 2016 to 2020, the fandom has attracted fans (particularly in Latin America) who are more dedicated to the series than fans before them, with their regular content contributing to a phenomenon known as the Sea Princesses renaissance.

Long time no see, everyone. It’s been a while since the second run of Kisekae Insights ended. I was hoping I could get back to doing this earlier, but my version of Kamen Rider Zi-O (the last leg of my personal project) took a bit longer than intended to write. At the time of writing this, I had just finished writing Zi-O and was taking a break to focus on the Sea Princesses Refresh before going back to do the final set of specials. Now, the (true) 15th anniversary of the Sea Princesses animated series was coming up and I wanted to do something for it. I had something else in mind for the week of the anniversary, but after doing most of the work on it, I put it aside and didn’t really feel like polishing it.

Then I remembered that I wanted to do a third run of Kisekae Insights at some point this year. Originally, the plan was to write a couple of retrospective posts on some related material before going into the involvement of My Little Pony in preparation for Gokaiger, Decade and Soulbound, but then I looked back into previous instalments and realised that I was focusing on big things when this series was originally intended for me to share collections of random tidbits from my personal project, meaning that I could repeat things and write clickbait instalments if I liked. With all this in mind, I’m going to take it easy and talk about the involvement of Sea Princesses in the second half of Soulbound Series 4 and Kamen Rider Zi-O, teasing the eventual coverage of the latter in Kisekae Insights.

By the way, the second phase of the Sea Princesses Refresh, namely the v2 versions of the book transcripts and translations, is complete. The v2 transcripts and translations are done and they have superseded the previous v1 versions on Google Docs. PDF and ebook versions of the books, which are clean versions of the transcripts and translations without the page numbers and/or footnotes, have been released as well. Initially, I made ebook versions of the translations so I could read them on my ebook readers, but I didn’t make them public because I thought Fabio Yabu was going to publish his translations of the main series books on Amazon Kindle. However, since it’s been two years and he hasn’t done that, I thought I might put my versions up instead. Anyway, let’s get into the instalment.

The Rise of Dark Daniel

If it wasn’t inferred already by the picture of them at the start of this post, Daniel Camielez and Polvina are the main characters who are covered in the stories discussed in this instalment.

When Kamen Rider Zi-O premiered in Japan in September 2018, I thought that adapting the series was an inevitability, compounded by the fan observation that Zi-O was basically Decade 2.0. As such, once I decided that I would be adapting this series, I had to put in quite a bit of foreshadowing in my stories. This was done in order to establish the setting for my version of Zi-O and make its adaptation from the original series easier by using the counterparts of characters that were featured in each arc.

For example, Kamen Rider Ryuga was involved in the events of Sougo Tokiwa (I’ll continue to call him that for simplicity’s sake, but also for reasons that I’ll explain when I get to doing Zi-O) gaining the power of Zi-O II, so I would need to introduce Ryuga before I started work on Zi-O. The introduction of Aqua and Poseidon (that I covered in #20) was another example of foreshadowing I did in preparation for Zi-O, but plans changed by the time I got to writing the Another Worlds arc where Aqua was featured.

In Kamen Rider Ryuki, Kamen Rider Ryuga was introduced in the series’ summer movie, EPISODE FINAL, as the dark counterpart of the series’ titular Rider, Kamen Rider Ryuki, with his human identity being the Mirror World counterpart of the main character, Shinji Kido, named Dark Shinji. Naturally, Ryuga’s counterpart in my personal project would obviously be Dark Daniel, the Mirror World counterpart of Daniel Camielez.

Believe it or not, I actually did introduce Kamen Rider Ryuga in my version of Kamen Rider Decade, but I didn’t introduce Dark Daniel back then because I had no plans for Ryuga at the time (aside from adapting plot points from the original series). Ryuga was introduced as a Rider summon in the series itself and an actual Rider in the Gokaiger vs. Decade teamup, with Ryuga’s user being someone who was willingly fighting for someone they didn’t know was an enemy.

The story takes place in Soulbound Series 4, sometime after the introduction of Aqua and Poseidon. The episode starts off with Polvina sitting on a beach watching the sunrise as Daniel walks towards her, only for him to transform into Ryuga. Polvina transforms into Femme and the two fight before Ryuga finishes her off with his dark Dragon Rider Kick. It is then that Polvina wakes up in her bed, revealing this sequence to be a dream.

At this point in the story, Daniel had gone missing for a few days, but for some time before that, he noticed that he is not being reflected in mirrors. At the same time, Ryuga, who was only known to the characters as “the black Ryuki”, had been attacking Salacia frequently ever since Daniel disappeared. Ester and Tubarina request help from a few members of the Soulbound cast and they take them to Salacia to help investigate.

After a fight with Ryuga and his Raydragoons and Hydragoons, the Soulbound cast are brought to Polvina’s room at the Octopus Palace along with Marcello, Marcela, Yuki Yamaki and Takumi Kamijō. Ever since Daniel disappeared, Polvina had become afraid of leaving her room (let alone her palace) out of fear that Daniel would become Ryuga and kill her, but Ester and Tubarina reassured her that there is no way that Daniel would be him because they have no way to prove it. As Polvina recounts the events of The Boy and The Secret Admirer, expressing how she resented the fact that she could never be friends with Daniel because of the First Law of Salacia, Marcela theorises that Daniel must have felt the same way as well, resenting the Salacians for not being able to see Polvina again and his friends for not believing him about the Salacians. That resentment got reflected into his Mirror World self, but he didn’t become independent from Daniel until some time after he became Ryuki.

It is then that Daniel suddenly appears in Polvina’s room and reveals that Marcela’s theory was correct, revealing himself to be Dark Daniel, who had defeated his normal counterpart before absorbing him into his body. After Dark Daniel transforms into Ryuga, everyone else but Polvina transforms and heads out to fight him. We get a brief scene of Polvina’s Mirror World self laughing and taunting her for being the shyest girl in all of Salacia, which leads an incensed Polvina to transform and join the battle in an attempt to prove her Mirror World self wrong. Aside from Polvina, Kelvin Galvarro, Soraia and Bia join the battle as well. The Riders deal enough damage to Ryuga, which causes Daniel to begin separating from him. Marcello and Marcela hold Ryuga back while Polvina, Ester, Tubarina and Kelvin pull Daniel out of Ryuga’s body. Daniel and Kelvin join the other Riders as Ryuki Survive and Knight Survive, eventually resulting in Ryuga being defeated.

After the battle, Polvina and Daniel make peace with their resentment. Before leaving for Dryland with Kelvin, Daniel goes to the bathroom, where he sees Dark Daniel in the mirror, meaning that Ryuga did survive the battle and that he will never die as long as Daniel lives. Daniel tells his Mirror World counterpart that he won’t be afraid of him anymore, to which Dark Daniel decides to take a step back and see how he controls his inner darkness for the time being.

Darkness Made Light

In case you’re asking, yes, the Salacians did have further minor appearances in Soulbound Series 4, I just wanted to focus on the main stories. Fastforwarding to Kamen Rider Zi-O now and the same principle applies.

Following the Riders’ initial battle with Ohma Zi-O before the start of the series, Daniel, Polvina and the Ryuki Riders were exiled to the year 2002 for the first arc of the series. However, that was to accommodate for the time-travelling in that arc and the Ryuki tribute didn’t come until the second arc of the series, so at the end of the first arc, they were brought to 2018/19 thanks to Hiroki Ichigo and his comrades creating a nexus point.

So bringing up the original Zi-O for a minute, you will recall that Ryuki got an extra tribute thanks to it gaining a short spinoff series a couple of months after its tribute in the original series. Because the spinoff series was radically different, I decided to expand the Ryuki tribute in my series and make a prelude to Zi-O II’s debut in the second arc of the series. And yes, I essentially rehashed the previous story in Soulbound for it.

Some time after the Salacian Riders are brought back to 2018/19, Dark Daniel makes a contract with the Time Jackers and becomes Another Ryuki, allowing him to come out of Mirror World without having to possess Daniel. Daniel and Polvina, who had gone off on a holiday to Minato-Sugaru Island, encounter Dark Daniel and they fight in Mirror World in their Rider forms before Dark Daniel reveals his Another Rider form and defeats them, throwing them out of Mirror World in the process. By the time Polvina regains consciousness, Daniel is nowhere to be seen.

The Shark King and Lorah lead their Riders to attack Minato-Sugaru Island when they come into contact with Sougo and Geiz. The two transform and fight the Salacian Riders, who defeat them and take Sougo away with them back to Salacia. This event was actually willed by Kensuke Nitta (my counterpart of White Woz in the series) in an attempt to guide Geiz into defeating Ohma Zi-O and becoming the saviour, despite Geiz’s insistence that he will fight Ohma Zi-O his own way.

While Geiz and Tsukuyomi are approached by Daniel, asking them if they know the way to Salacia, Sougo is taken to the Shark Palace, where he is questioned by the Shark King about Polvina and Daniel’s disappearance as they were meant to return the day before. The Shark King suspects Sougo to have had something to do with their disappearance because of the rumours of him becoming the demonic overlord, Ohma Zi-O, but Sougo denies any involvement in this as Tata reports to the Shark that Geiz and Tsukuyomi have brought Daniel to the Shark Palace. While the Shark King and Tata head to the lobby, Ester and Tubarina meet Sougo and tell him that they believe him, revealing that Polvina called them in secret the day before and notified them of Daniel’s disappearance, telling them that she doesn’t want to come back to Salacia until she finds him. As Sougo realises that the Daniel who just arrived is actually an imposter, Tubarina hands the Ryuki Ridewatch over to him before heading out.

Sure enough, the Daniel that arrived with Geiz and Tsukuyomi is actually Dark Daniel. A fight with Ryuga/Another Ryuki ensues before Dark Daniel escapes to Dryland. Sougo and Geiz attempt to give chase, but they are confronted by the Salacian Riders. With the help of Kelvin, Windy Adams and the goddess Salacia as Knight, Poseidon and Saga, the Salacian Riders are defeated as the goddess Salacia chides the Shark King, Lorah and their Riders for their actions because they should have known that not all Drylanders mean harm to Salacia. Kelvin gives Geiz the Knight Ridewatch and he and Sougo head back to Minato-Sugaru Island, where Dark Daniel escaped to. There, Sougo and Geiz confront Another Ryuki, who is defeated by Zi-O Decade Armor Ryuki Form with a Dragon Rider Kick powered by the Ryuki Final Attack Time Break. Still not finished, Dark Daniel transforms into Ryuga again and Zi-O and Geiz use the Ryuki and Knight Ridewatches to defeat him like how Kamen Rider Odin was defeated in the aforementioned spinoff series for Ryuki.

As Dark Daniel retreats to Mirror World, the Ryuki Anotherwatch is destroyed, but it is rebuilt by one of the Time Jackers, turning it into the Ryuga Anotherwatch. Dark Daniel becomes Another Ryuga and everything goes as per Episodes 21 and 22 of the original Zi-O, though with some variations:

Another Ryuga fights Marcello and Hugo before being confronted by Zi-O and Geiz for the first time

Zi-O and Geiz attempt to use the Ryuki and Knight Ridewatches again, but the attacks get reflected, not that they would have worked anyway due to this ability

Sougo, Geiz and Tsukuyomi help the Salacians search for Daniel by handing out flyers; while doing so, Sougo encounters Polvina at the beach, who tells him that she had to find another place to stay because Daniel doesn’t remember her

In the second half of the episode, Daniel tells Sougo that there is still a part of him who resents the Salacians, which he believes is the reason why Dark Daniel is rampaging (see why I said that this was a rehash of the Soulbound story?)

At the end of the episode, Daniel is discharged from hospital and Sougo takes him to the beach, where he has a heartfelt reunion with Polvina before they go back to Salacia with Ester, Tubarina, Marcello, Hugo and Bia

In the second half of the series (the third and fourth arcs), most of the Salacian Oni Riders (except for Marcela, Marli, Caramelo and Delfi) and Amazon Riders joined the secondary villain group named Quartzer, led by Kensuke Nitta, who I mentioned earlier. Akeno Shiranui and Miss Marla did join Quartzer as well, but only to act as spies on the orders of the goddess Salacia (fun fact, Miss Marla’s codename is Marcia). Kensuke discovers their treachery and attacks them, only to be saved by Salacia, Duante and Windy Adams. The other Riders appear sporadically as reoccurring villains for the rest of the series before they are defeated for good in the finale.

Remember when I said when it would be the last time I talked about Sea Princesses? That promise didn’t age well lol. I hope you enjoyed this instalment of Kisekae Insights. Even if I don’t get to talk about what I originally planned to talk about this year, I’ll try to cover as much as I can, whether through small instalments or big instalments.

Once again, happy 15th anniversary to the Sea Princesses animated series (for real this time). Say, in a couple of years’ time, it’ll be 20 years since the first main series book, The World of Salacia, was published in Brazil, making the 20th anniversary of the Sea Princesses series itself. I wonder if I should do something for that and if I do, I hope my plans don’t clash with Fabio Yabu’s if he decides to do something for it as well…

#kisekae insights #sea princesses #princesas do mar #kamen rider #kamen rider zi-o #soulbound #princesas del mar #el reino de acuatica

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sophiasharp · 2 years

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OH i highly recommend reading the hnk manga!! The first chapters are pretty much the same as the anime, and then the story picks up where the anime ended, so if you start from chapter 1 you’ll get the story in order ~ The plot makes you go 😵😵 (affectionate) the further you go in, but it gets super interesting, and the artstyle of the manga is kinda different from the one in the anime but it’s very unique and has some really nice panels!

So yeah if you liked the anime then you will like the manga too!! Also you said that Phos inspired the design of one of your ocs?? That’s super interesting, could you talk more about it? If that’s okay ofc 👀💖✨💖

@iidsch Oh??? Okay uh sure, fuck it, who am I to turn down a chance to ramble about my characters?

So I’m one of those people who really has one OC that just gets recycled into every single world they’re in. More often than not they’re used as a self-insert character but every once in a while I find an excuse to use them in original stuff as well.

The one I’m talking about here is actually the one my blog is named after, Sophia. She’s had a lot of different last names over the years, the one before her current iteration being Sharp.

This particular version of Her, Sophia Mancer, was originally used in a self-insert story in the Creepypasta universe. It was loosely based off of the few comic panels I ever actually read through of The Seer, since the original author used to make comic dubs of it online but since I didn’t know where to read the original comic I only ever made it through, like, the main premise. Anyway that’s more just background information which isn’t vital to the character? But helps give an idea of what kind of world she exists in.

Luckily for everyone and myself I’ve actually had reason to use this version of Sophia again recently since I’m currently in a game of Monster of the Week with a bunch of friends from College. When I saw the game’s mechanics for The Monstrous I couldn’t think of anyone who would have fit the bill better, and it gave me a chance to go back and revamp her story in a way that stayed mostly true to her original premise but removed that pesky Creepypasta label (until the dm or other players start asking questions but we haven’t gotten there yet lol.) I’ll put her whole summarized backstory along with some art I made of her under a read more in case you’d like to read it for yourself lol.

The influence from Phos comes from what happens to Sophia’s limbs at the climax of her story. You can read the specifics below but to summarize it quickly during her final battle with a demon lord trying to take over the human world, she loses all her limbs (ouch) but through sheer will and the power of the chosen one of a rival entity, she grew back her arms and legs with this viscus, inky black material that can harden at will. Since the end of the battle, she’s learned to keep her limbs in a mostly human shape with the help of clothing to keep it all contained: long sleeves, long pants, gives, boots, etc. although she can take her gloves off while still keeping her hands as, well, hands, they tend to become more claw-like without the extra aid or specific concentration on keeping them as such.

So to make a long-ass story short, I saw the utter shit Phos went through with losing her arms and getting her new gold ones and went “that’s fucking sick, I’m gonna put that on my body horror character and it’s gonna be GREAT!”

I really should try to find a place to read the HNK manga, I’m already in love with most of the characters and I absolutely adore the story and ideas behind it. If you have any recommendations on where to find copies online I’d love to hear them! I am. A bad nerd lol. It has been so long I don’t even know where to look that isn’t like Barns & Noble or something. Anyway, thanks for the ask!

Sophia knew about the horrors of the unknown long before she was told she was a Chosen One. The child of a messy divorce, Sophia was raised chiefly by her mother, with only vague memories of her older sister and younger brother who they were forced to leave behind. Her mom worked tirelessly to support them both. To help with keeping them afloat, Sophia went to college on a full ride Scholarship and worked to become a psychologist. While working in regency, she prided herself on her openness with her patients and always treating them with respect no matter the circumstances. This became helpful later on when her worldview was thrown on its head after witnessing a fight between the adventuring group of her first hunter client, Matthew Williams, and a monster they’d been tracking. Once the dust had settled, Sophia dedicated herself to being there for other people in the monster hunting field. Who else would be there to support the ones constantly going up against the impossible?

Sophia had just gotten her license to practice when the weirdness that followed her patients home every night started to follow her as well. For months she was plagued with night terrors and the constant feeling that she was being watched. After a while, it started to effect her physical health too, waking up into coughing fits and prolonged bouts of insomnia. Finally, things came to a head when in a moment of restlessness, she went out of a walk in the dead of night. During her stroll through the local park, she was accosted by demonic monsters, some more humanoid than others but nonetheless vicious. Before they could kill her, however, a masked figure intervened and killed the monsters shortly before Sophia blacked out at his presence.

It turned out the masked figure was a Herald, come to gather Sophia and tell her that she had been chosen by his master to fight against a demon lord trying to break free of the nine hells and invade the surface world. The demons, meanwhile, were sent by their master to kill her before she could come into power.

Sophia wasn’t chosen by a God, per se. Sure, they’re more powerful and keenly aware of the fate of reality than mere mortals but they’re not Gods, and while their goal is to ultimately protect humanity from evil, they are far from Benevolent. Sophia was chosen by one of The Operators, faceless beings that embody the base spirits of humanity: Joy, Anger, Sorrow, and Fear. Every hundred years, one of the Operators chooses a Champion to fight back the forces of the outer planes that would threaten Earth. To protect the world in between the retirement of the old Champion and the claiming of the new one as well as helping with more minor tasks that don’t specifically call the attention of a Champion, the Operators also adopt proxies that are specialized in their master’s domain and do their bidding.

As long as Sophia was in the mortal world, she was at risk of being attacked by the Demon Lord’s minions, so to protect her friends and family, she agreed to leave her life on pause to live in the dimension of the Operator that chose her. Unfortunately for her, Sophia was chosen by the Operator of Fear, and being a mortal forced to live in a realm of pure fear, surrounded on all sides by the alien and the unknown, was not great for her mental health. It didn’t help that the other proxies of the Operator didn’t take well to her at first, and while she did eventually earn their good graces and even the companionship of a few, there was a long, long period of time where her only company was isolation and bitterness.

Eventually, after years of training under the Operator, the day of the Demon Lord’s ascent came. A battle took place within the plane between planes, the Operators against the power of the hells. It was a hard fought fight, and for a time it seemed like the demons would win. During the battle, Sophia actually nearly died- her limbs were torn off and she nearly bled out. However, in the nick of time, she became a pure conduit for the Operator’s power, growing black, clawed limbs to replace the old ones and becoming something inherently other in the process. With the newfound surge of power, they turned the tide of battle and killed the Demon Lord and sealed his forces away, not forever but for long enough. The changes made to Sophia, however, were more than permanent.

With the demons no longer stalking her every move on Earth, Sophia was allowed to return to her “old life,” no longer forced to live in the realm of Fear. She’d still be called upon every once in a while to do her Operator’s bidding, as she was still their champion, but in theory, she was free to go back to her life before officially being chosen, and for a time she tried to do that. However, having now dealt with the unknowable and being forever changed by it, both physically and mentally, she no longer felt she was able to keep her own experiences from influencing her job, especially since she still had to learn how to control her new powers. Thus, she turned to a life on the road, hopping from town to town seeking out the unknowable that inhabited there and doing what she could to protect the masses.

Here’s a piece of reference art I made for the game. It’s probably the single best piece of art I’ve ever made for Sophia in any of her iterations, I’m really proud of how it came out!

If you made it this far, thanks again for giving me a chance to ramble about my character, and to anyone else who read this far down! I don’t normally talk about many of my OC’s on main cause I never really have a reason to but this was fun! Sophia’s very near and dear to me personally- she’s been used in a lot of ways over the years and she’ll now doubt be used for many more in the years to come, but I’m particularly fond of this version of her- whether you keep the original self-insert aspects or not.

#sophia and her shit #original character #oc #creepypasta #monster of the week #motw #motw oc #motw rpg #hnk #don’t wanna tag spam so we’ll leave it at that #fun fact: this is the same MotW campaign where one of the players is playing Chris Redfield from Resident Evil #so in a way Sophia has gone full circle and become a self-insert oc again #oh yeah- finally finished our first mystery last week #right before the climax of which we learned that Chris has been doing literal actual Cocain to cope with. something?#and that’s why he’s been playing like a crazy person for the entire game #once again I am filled with the need to shake him like a rag doll #WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO MY GUY YOU BASTARD WHY IS HE DOING HARD DRUGS #anyway. less important. thanks again for the ask!#ask

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divine-mistake · 3 years

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'till death blooms us art

Summary: You’d rather die loving him than never getting to see the sun ever again.

(“Your call has been forwarded to an automated voice messaging system. This number is not available. At the tone, please record your message.”)

Characters: Sam Wilson/Plus-sized Reader

Warnings: 18+ (no smut), strong language, Hanahaki AU, angst with a happy ending, weight insecurity, allusions to eating disorders, talk about death, blood, past domestic abuse and trauma, gun violence, original male character, book quotes, anxiety

Word Count: 12796

A/N: Thank you for reading! This fic won the vote during my 500 follower celebration and it's finally out now! This story has a lot of meaning for me, due to it being a bit of a metaphor for disorderly eating. I know that will make some people uncomfortable, but as someone who has struggled for a long time, I want to talk more openly about this kind of thing. Anyway, thanks so much for sticking with me and I hope you enjoy!

main masterlist | AO3 | playlist by @tripleyeeet

—STUBBORN WEEDS—

They are everywhere—covering the space of the sitting room like an overgrown garden made of glass and paint, canvas and pages torn from old waterlogged books, stained mugs filled with decaying brushes. Wanda walks through your room like it’s a maze, her fingers trailing over the air but never touching the art. She’s pretending she’s in a museum, or a gallery, or something fancier than what you could ever appear in, but a twinge of something akin to warmth stabs through your heart at the thought.

“These are incredible,” she says, not looking at you. “How do you do it?”

With a shrug, you bend down and pick up one of the canvasses from the floor, holding it out to look at it.

“I don’t know,” you lie.

White space in the shape of flowers, uneven and missing petals here and there, is outlined in streaks of paint that go every direction, in every different shade, hard edges and soft, blurred lines and covering the entirety of the canvas except for those spaces where flowers once sat, pinned to the medium.

“They are beautiful,” Wanda says.

Your nail sneaks under one of the dried chunks of acrylic and you chip it—a fleck of ultramarine blue falls from the painting.

When you turn, Wanda studies a different piece in careful hands. It’s a glass case, trimmed with shitty, shaky lines of gold you painted on a whim. But inside, between the thick panes, dried flowers painted over are encased in eternity, arranged to match their exact placements on the canvas where your brushes stroked life onto them, around them, through them. Two perfect pieces that once belonged together, separated like an act of Adam against his God.

Maybe they were meant to be together, but no one will ever know their story.

“They’re amateur,” you tell her, laughing. “I’m not much of an artist. It’s just for fun.”

She smiles at you, placing the glass piece down. “You have a talent.”

Wanda takes another turn about the room, another circuit, another spin. She looks at every piece in such focus, taking in every single detail, fingers stretching and curling as if she wants to caress the dried flowers, the dried paint, and feel their meaning. You wonder what she would say if she could read their minds—the art you’ve made. Would your pieces tell her the true meaning behind their existence? Or maybe they would laugh, or cry, or howl in pain.

But Wanda only stares, at the paintings and at you, a small smile on her face like she knows something you don’t. Like she’s keeping a secret. Is she keeping the secrets that the flowers have whispered to her when you weren’t looking?

“What inspired them?” she asks, the very tip of her nail tracing a different glass box filled with dyed petals reconstructed into a larger artificial flower, protected by its own display.

You wring your hands together. “I like flowers.”

She laughs. “That’s obvious. But what makes them special enough to paint? To—To make such lovely art out of?”

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you place the small canvas you’d been holding back on the side table, crossing the room to your bookshelf. Your fingertip finds the spine of a hardcover book you’re too familiar with, pulling it out and into your awaiting hands. Sheets of paper, a little bent and crooked, stick out of the pages.

You crack it open, the dulling white petals of a daisy pressed flat between the crackling spine fluttering from between the black inked words, then fall to the floor at your feet.

“The Devil’s hand directs our every move,” you read. “The things we loathed become the things we love.”

Wanda stares at you as you fiddle with the book, tracing the words of the cover.

“Les Fleurs du Mal,” you say. “The Flowers of Evil.”

Gently and without word, she bows at your feet and picks up the drying daisy, cradling it in her pale hands, but you don’t have the strength to take it from her.

(“Hey there darlin’, it’s just me. I had to run some errands this morning, y’know how it is, so I’m out of the Tower right now. I was just wondering if you needed anything while I was out. Anything—really, anything at all. Even breakfast, or maybe a latte? Just a little pick-me-up. Well, give me a call back if you need anything. If not, I’ll be back soon. See ya.”)

—BETTER TOGETHER—

“Steven Grant,” you say his name like a curse, shaking your head. “This is why you spend three hours a day in the gym.”

Too busy shoving the first bite of his first hoagie into his mouth, Steve doesn’t reply. You roll your eyes, but the smile on your lips gives you away. When he’s finally swallowed, wiping crumbs from his mouth, he looks a little indignant.

“Are you calling me fat?”

“Well, you would be if you didn’t have that serum running through you.”

He frowns, brows furrowed, a little confusion on his face. “I thought it was because I work out three hours a day. And I’ll have you know—”

“—you work out six hours a day between your morning runs and training, I know, I know. I’ve heard it all before Steve.” You groan at the thought. “It’s like it’s your job.”

“It is my job. Saving the world and all that.”

“Okay, you really need to let America know that it’s giving you a complex, ‘cause if I hear one more thing about you saving the world, I think I’m going to scream.”

He shrugs, taking another gigantic bite out of his sandwich. Scraps of shredded lettuce fall out from between the buns and litter his plate. You pick at your own, pulling uneven pieces of sliced onion and stray pickles from the hoagie, content to sit and stare at it instead of eating.

Food is good. You brush the grainy crumbs of bread from your fingers. Food is good, but you just aren’t hungry. And you don’t work out three hours a day. Maybe you should start. Your body feels like a balloon with all your insides threatening to come up in a retch and choke you. Food is good. Food is good. You just have to pick up the sandwich and eat it.

Fingers shaking, you take the sub in your hand and stare at the corner where you mean to take the first bite.

“You good?”

Steve, still chewing, looks at you with concern clear in his crystal blues and it makes you put your food back down on the plate. Instead, you busy yourself with another sip of your water, nodding at him.

“Yeah. We can’t all be Steve Rogers, demolishing two hoagies in less than two seconds, y’know.” You throw in a snort, trying to sound nonchalant. “Wipe your mouth, Captain. You’ve got mayo on your cheek.”

He doesn’t, but him grabbing a napkin to embarrassedly wipe a nonexistent condiment from his face gives you enough time to pick your sandwich back up and contemplate taking the first bite. You’ve just gotta start with the first bite and the rest will go down.

But you aren’t hungry. How can you be hungry when you’re already so full? Stuffed, even. There isn’t room in your insides. All your organs are bursting. It’s so painful sometimes, the expanding of your skin to accommodate. Waves of sickness roll through you, spreading. Your stomach is stretched, bloated, filled with all the swallowed—

“What are you doin’ to my girl, huh Steve?”

The sound of his voice alone makes the ache inside of you dissipate, the nausea escapes from your throat, the anxiety twitching through your hands steadies. Your head perks up, shoulders rolling back as your entire body relaxes, and you look behind you.

And there, dressed in a tight blue polo and a pair of pants clinging to his legs like they were made for him, the very angel who blessed you, the devil who cursed you, the god of the fucking sun and everything it could ever touch, stands before you with a smile saved just for you.

Sam Wilson.

His dark eyes are piercing, like he’s trying to peel back the layers of your skin to see underneath, as he shoves his hands in his pockets and grins with all his teeth.

“Hey honey,” he says—simply and easily and not serious. Never serious.

Your lungs burn. Your mouth feels too dry to answer him.

“Oh, your girl?” Steve asks him, brows a little too furrowed to be joking. “When did she become your girl?”

Sam shrugs, walking toward the empty seat next to you, placing his hand on the back of your chair so dangerously close to your body that it makes you pull in a deep breath. His thumb could brush against the fabric of your shirt, run along the seam of your spine. And, goddamn, it should be illegal for him to look so casual and so unbothered while still looking that handsome.

Like this, you can smell the spice in his cologne, a powerful mix of something you’re sure is designed to drive you crazy.

He looks down at you, still hovering over where you sit, and throws a wink your way that brings heat to the surface of your cheeks.

“Aw, she’s always been my girl, ain’t that right? Tell him, darlin’.”

You stare at Sam for one second too long, breaking away to gaze down at your uneaten sandwich again. With every flutter that Sam sends down your stomach, the heaviness inside it seems to fade away. Your fullness is replaced by a familiar hunger—the rawness of your throat waning as a burning itch takes over. A cough is threatening to bubble up. You choke it back, smiling instead.

“He’s right, Stevie,” you say all bright and cheery again.

Steve meets your eyes with a stony gaze, unreadable, his blue eyes looking gray in the light. Beside you, Sam throws himself down in one of the chairs and pulls up to the table, hand still sitting on the back of your seat. His knees are spread a little wide, thigh resting against yours.

It’s so innocent but your brain thinks it’s so intimate. A lie. A lie.

In the end, Steve relaxes back, his eyebrows lifting as he watches the scene unfold in front of him. He tosses one of the sticky plastic menus toward Sam, nodding at it.

“Order up, man,” Steve says, his tone more neutral than you think you’ve ever heard it in regards to Sam. “But I’m not paying for yours. You’re on your own.”

At that, Sam laughs, full and robust with his face up to the ceiling. He rocks back in his chair, shaking his head, and he looks so beautiful even in the shitty sub shop that Steve drags you to for lunch every other week that it makes you ache and your lungs contract in an attempt to cough.

You swallow it back again, trying to even out your breathing. The itch in your throat is so bad that you almost pick up your sandwich to eat again, but your hand passes it up to take another few sips of your water. It’s cool, clear, refreshing—but it can’t make the tickle of the cough go away.

“So,” Sam starts once he’s finished ordering his own hoagie, “how’s that apartment hunting going? Found anything good yet?”

A frown forms, heavy, on your lips. You pick off a flaking piece of bread from your sandwich, watching it turn to crumbs underneath your fingers.

“It’s going,” you say, but anyone who ever responds to a question of how’s it going with it’s going is absolutely lying and it is absolutely not going—and maybe Sam knows that, or maybe Steve does, or hell, maybe they both do but it makes you look weak to admit that things aren’t going so well out loud.

And you—you can’t admit the truth, so it’s just better to lie about it.

You don’t want to leave the Tower.

“It’s going, huh?” Sam asks, his tone proving that he can see right through you. “You need help looking at some places or something?”

“Well—”

“You know,” he barrels through your words as if they are nothing, “I think I actually know a realtor around here. Maybe he can get you some leads on rentals or something. I could make some calls for you, honey.”

It’s not supposed to—Sam only means well, he always does, always trying to do so much for people—but it hurts to hear. Because you don’t hear him saying that he’s trying to help you out. You hear him saying he doesn’t want you around the Tower anymore.

Because, well, why would he want you there?

To him, you’re just an outsider. A girl who doesn’t belong. Someone who daydreams and doodles flowers on every surface as soon as she thinks of him. And you always think of him.

Before you can think about it, your hand flies to your mouth reflexively to hold back a cough. Instantly, Sam’s leaning closer and that damned hand of his falls soft against your back.

“You okay?”

There’s barely a moment for you to nod, signaling that you’re fine, before Steve’s got on his game face, all hard lines and furrowed brows and thin lips pressed tightly together.

“Hey,” he says, grabbing Sam’s attention. “She’s allowed to stay as long as she wants, alright? The Tower is her home now, too. So there isn’t a rush for her to find a place unless she wants to leave.”

The passion and care in Steve’s voice is strong, almost so overpowering it’s oppressive, and something rises up from within you and threatens to send salty tears careening down your cheeks if you don’t blink them away.

Sam raises his hands in front of him dramatically. “Okay, okay, I get it. I wasn’t trying to run her off or anything, just wanted to lend a hand if I could. Damn, Steve.”

Something changes at the table, then. It’s like a fog, thick and cloying, falls over the three of you and keeps you lethargic—so much so that the only words spoken in the next few awkward minutes are Sam’s thanks when the waiter brings his sandwich by.

You still haven’t even touched yours, and you hope it seems like you’re just waiting for Sam to get his, because Steve’s tearing into his second and by the looks of the mustard dripping down his fingers messily, he’ll be done any minute now.

But as you prop your head up on the table, leaning on your elbow boredly, Sam nudges his leg into yours to grab your attention. When you turn to look at him, he’s got that grin again, all pearly and white with the little crooked gap you think you could stare at forever as long as it meant he was smiling and laughing and happy.

“You gonna eat, girl?” Sam picks his sub up in his hand and gestures at you to do the same. God, he makes you dizzy just by talking. The butterflies in your belly are fighting tooth and nail against your organs, trying to take up all the space, but they aren’t really butterflies. The soft monsters in your stomach leave a taste on your tongue you can’t explain.

“Oh.” You mimic his movement and then Sam toasts his hoagie against yours with a chuckle.

“First bite,” he says, and there’s no thought in your head or balloon in your stomach and no bloated skin to make you second guess yourself.

You follow Sam, sinking your teeth into the bread of your sandwich, and its flavor explodes over your tongue just enough to take away all the bitter, floral, fragrant taste of the daisies that are building up in your stomach, their petals choking you out, downy fluttering things inside you.

(“Hey girl, it’s me. I couldn’t find you anywhere—where you at? I was coming to see if you wanted to grab a bite with me for lunch, maybe at that little Italian place you like to go to around the corner? Or maybe sushi or something? Been a while since I got to go out for lunch, so I thought I’d ask, but I guess you’re busy right now. I’ll catch you later, darlin’. Enjoy your lunch.”)

—NEW BEGINNINGS—

You’ve got to call him. You have to. You have no choice anymore.

Danny is on the other side of the locked door, his fist pounding on the wood and threatening to cave it in from the repeated force. The sound is louder than it should be, really, echoing off the tile of the bathroom you’ve barricaded yourself inside. He’s shouting above the sound.

“You fucking bitch. I’m gonna kill you. I’m gonna fucking kill you. You lied to me? What else are you lying about, huh? You fucking whore. I took you in, I gave you a home, I gave you everything. Fucking fat slut—how many other guys are you sleeping with, huh?”

None, you had answered earlier when he was questioning you in your shared bedroom, his fist tight around your soft arm and squeezing so hard it made you want to scream. None.

But that wasn’t the answer Danny was looking for. And, well, once he threw you onto the ground and stomped to the dresser, clothes strewn around the room as he furiously ripped through it until he found the shiny black firearm you didn’t know he had, you were gone.

But there was only one place to go and that was the bathroom.

Now, trapped inside, you know you have no choice. You have to call him—the man from the coffee shop you’ve been going to regularly for a few months. The man who noticed the bruises Danny always left on you after a rough night. The man who pressed and pried and tried to do anything to get you to open up to him even as you refused over and over again. The man who put his number in your phone because he wanted you to call him if you ever needed him, not because he was a hero, but because he was worried about you.

You press the number two on speed dial. The phone rings.

“Hello? Who is this?”

“Steve?” Your voice is nothing but a sob. “Steve, you were right.”

He doesn’t miss a beat, but you hear the rustle of clothes and a jingle of keys on the other side beyond the static, a sound that makes you almost cry with relief or hope or maybe just stress.

“Hold on,” he tells you. “FRIDAY is pulling up your address. I’ll be there as quick as I can. Are you safe?”

“Bathroom,” you’re able to mumble out from behind the waterfall of tears rushing down your face. “He’s locked out but—but I’m scared.”

“I’m on my way. He’s not going to hurt you. I promise you.”

And then Steve hangs up, and you wish he hadn’t because now you’re left all alone with just a flimsy wooden door, painted fucking white so the blood will show up real pretty when Danny kills you, between you and your boyfriend.

Well, ex-boyfriend if you get out of here alive.

“Four fucking years!” he shouts from outside. “I gave you four fucking years of my life, you stupid bitch. I put up with your dumb fat ass for four years and this is what you do? Is this love? Do you think this is love?”

You figure anything is love as long as it doesn’t look like this. The ring of bruises around your upper arm from Danny’s grasp is already turning black and blue, a sight that makes you flinch.

Honestly, if it’s anyone’s fault, it’s yours. All the cash you were stashing should’ve been hidden better. You knew better. A shoebox up on the top shelf of the closet? Amateur. You should’ve cut a section out of one of your prized books or something. Danny never fucking reads. He probably doesn’t know how. He would’ve never found all the money if you’d stashed it there.

“Six thousand dollars!” he roars, punching the center of the door. The wood bends slightly. “How long’ve you been fucking stealing from me, huh? Fucking bitch. Stupid fucking bitch.”

And then it happens.

Danny’s fist breaks through the first layer of the door with a curse of pain falling from his lips. Then, a laugh. He’s laughing.

“I’m gonna kill you.”

He punches the door again and then his hand is through, wood splinters shattering and flying toward you, and with a scream you shield your face with your arms and duck down. You’re sitting beside the bathtub, squished against the toilet, and you scoot back as far as you can trying to wedge yourself to safety.

But there is no safety here. Danny’s bloodied fingers find the doorknob and unlock it with a click, and it’s over. It’s over. It’s fucking over.

With a kick, the door comes flying open and you’re screaming again at the top of your lungs, throat tearing itself raw. Danny’s broad frame possesses the entire room as he shoulders his way inside, his lips pulled back to show all of his teeth in a feral grin, the overhead lights catching the shine of the sleek gun he’s carrying.

You can’t even look at him. All you can do is stare at his back in the bathroom mirror hanging over the counter, your mind completely devoid of thought.

“Fuckin’ dead,” Danny says, and you don’t see him aim the gun at you. You stare in the mirror, right in the mirror and memorize the pattern of the plaid jacket he’s wearing, how the colored stripes form new colors, how the fabric all blends. It’s a pretty shirt. You bought it for him two Christmasses ago. He looks good in it.

You are going to die.

Then, suddenly, you can’t see the plaid anymore. Instead it’s a gray shirt on a much bigger body blocking out the mirror, and when you turn your head to look, Steve’s there.

Steve’s here.

He’s got Danny in a chokehold, grappling for the pistol in your boyfriend’s hand. Ex-boyfriend. Despite Steve being completely unarmed—he’s Captain America for christ’s sake, a goddamn super soldier, he doesn’t need a fucking weapon—he easily brings Danny down to his knees and onto the floor, kicking the gun away from their bodies and out of the bathroom completely.

“Fucking whore,” Danny manages to spit out, the sound strangled as Steve’s arm buckles over his neck. “You’re fucking him too, huh? I’m gonna kill you.”

“Shut up,” Steve grits through his clenched teeth, pulling Danny toward the destroyed door. “You’re done.”

They disappear from the bathroom in a tangle and thrashing of limbs. Danny curses the whole way down the stairs, struggling to break out of Steve’s grasp you presume. He’s a fighter—that’s what he always said. Dog meets dog eats dog world, he would tell you. You can’t ever trust anyone.

And, well, he certainly proved his beliefs. You had the bruises to show for it. The scars as evidence.

Sitting alone in your wrecked bathroom, still sprawled out on the tile, you stare down at your hands. The lines run deep in your palms, fingers stubby and chubby and not at all feminine. Too small to grab Danny the way he always grabbed you. Too soft with fat to deliver a good punch.

You don’t know how much time passes before a much larger hand enters your vision, slowly, like approaching a kicked mutt on the street, and when you don’t flinch, Steve lays his fingers across your palms. Apprehensively, you grab onto his hand, and he squeezes back.

Looking up, he’s crouched in front of you, the beginnings of a bruise forming on his left temple. With your free hand, you reach out and let your fingers brush over it, but Steve just smiles at you.

“Let’s go,” he murmurs.

“Where?”

“Anywhere but here,” he says, gently tugging on your hand. You hold onto him a little tighter and let him help you up off the ground, his arm immediately sliding around your waist to steady your shaky legs.

“I don’t have anywhere else to go,” you say. “The money I saved…”

You don’t even know what happened to it. For all you know, Danny burned the cash. Or stashed it somewhere else.

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” Steve says in a soft voice. “I’m taking you back to the Tower. The police are dealing with Danny right now. Can you help me pack some clothes for you?”

And so you sat on the bed among your wrecked bedroom as Steve picked through the messy drawers that had been pulled from their dresser, some articles of clothing crumpled on the floor where Danny flung them in his mad search for your secret money stash. And the gun. You almost forgot about the gun.

Steve helps you pack, his face only a little pinker than normal when you’re shoving your intimates into the black duffle bag he fished out of his car, and then he’s helping you slip on your sneakers and guiding you out of your house.

You don’t say goodbye to it, though. That house. Even after four years, you don’t call it home. In a lot of ways, you’re happy to watch it disappear from Steve’s rearview mirror, hoping you’ll never be back.

“They’re going to love you there,” he says quietly in the silence of the car, both hands tight around the steering wheel. He glances over at you, then back at the road. “You’ll fit right in. You’ll be safe. Right at home.”

But you think Steve is a bit of an optimist. Homes, you think, are for people who are loved.

(“Hey honey, just me here. Look, I remembered you saying something about how you wanted those, what were they called, the fairy lights for your room? The ones that look like Christmas lights? I thought we could go pick some up and I’ll hang ‘em up. You’re too short to do it yourself, girl, you know that. Anyway, give me a call if you want to, or just come down to my room and get me, anytime. I’ll be waiting. Talk soon, honey.”)

—KEEPING SECRETS—

Wanda hums a tune under her breath. “I just can’t wait to get out of this place! It’s been too long. Mission after mission after bloody mission.” She sighs and starts to apply a thick coat of mascara, eyes wide as she stares in the mirror.

“Agreed,” Natasha says from somewhere behind you. The sound of her bare feet on the bathroom tile is the only warning you have before she sidles up beside you, gracefully lifting herself up onto the counter and sweeping various cosmetics aside to make room.

You’re still undressed, standing in your panties and an old t-shirt with a stretched out neck, just finishing up your eyeshadow when Nat taps a black bottle on the marble top near your fingers.

“Want me to do your eyeliner?” she asks.

A few months ago, you would have seen it as an insult—a beautiful, dangerous woman telling you in less words that your makeup looked like shit. Now you know it’s an expression of Natasha’s unending love for you. A willing act of service. A small thing she can do for you.

“Yes please.”

Natasha motions you forward, between her legs, and when she takes your face in her hand you close your eyes.

“Pretty colors,” she says, probably about your eyeshadow.

“Thanks,” you reply, and then you feel the cool wetness of liquid liner right on your lash line as she begins to paint a wing on your lid. “You always look pretty.”

“So do you.” She blows softly on your left eye. “It’s like you never need makeup, I swear. Are you even wearing foundation?”

A smile works its way onto your face. “Nope.”

From beside you, Wanda giggles.

“Slut. You’re so perfect it makes me want to scream sometimes,” Natasha says, tongue clicking her teeth as she finishes off your right eye.

All the breath seems to leave you in that moment. Like someone punched you straight in your gut, your bones like the gel shock-absorbing layer protecting your organs. Your eyes want nothing more than to shoot open, but Nat is blowing cool air over the newly formed wing and you force yourself to relax so you don’t mess everything up.

“I’m not perfect,” you tell her. “Have you looked in a mirror lately?”

“Don’t deflect.” You hear her cap the eye liner and set it down on the counter, then her palms engulf your cheeks. Slowly, you let your eyes open, blinking gently.

She’s staring at you, eyes narrowed.

“Just because I’m beautiful doesn’t mean you’re not beautiful,” she says, simply, as if it’s just easy for her to not compare herself to anyone else. “If you’re perfect, you’re perfect. Doesn’t matter if I’m perfect, too. And that Wanda is perfect. Or that anyone is perfect.”

Natasha takes your chin in her fingers and grabs a tube of lipstick—the one she and Wanda always tell you to wear because it looks so damn good on you.

“Your beauty and your worth doesn’t come from other people.” She runs the silken rouge over your lips. “It comes from who you are, not comparisons to other people.”

And, god, you want to scream at her. You want to shout and tell her that she isn’t allowed to say that to you when she looks the way she does—slim and picturesque and every human being’s wet dream. She doesn’t get to say that you shouldn’t compare yourself, with your heavy chest and your wide hips and all your soft pockets of skin, to someone like her. To someone like Wanda. To anyone else that doesn’t need liposuction with a side of diet pills, please.

You can’t be perfect, because if you were perfect, if you were enough, you wouldn’t be dying in agony every night over someone that doesn’t look twice at your too-large stomach and your too-large thighs.

They’re just trying to make you feel better, but all it does is make you feel worse.

“Look,” you say when she’s done with your lipstick, “I get what—”

In a split second, your chest is wracked with hard coughs, lungs struggling for air. It’s choking you, your own insides, and you’re hacking and wheezing and grasping at the bathroom counter and Natasha’s hands are on your shoulders and Wanda is slapping your back in hope that it will help and someone, somewhere, is saying the word heimlich and you can taste it on your tongue like old wallpaper from the 70s, floral and disgusting and toxic and ugly.

You throw your arm over your mouth, smearing your lipstick. It doesn’t help. Natasha is looking at you, eyes wild. You’re coughing and coughing and you think you taste blood underneath the overwhelming velvet on your tongue.

They’re saying your name. Shredded petals are between your teeth.

And then you break, pushing past them to the toilet, skidding on your knees until you’re doubled over and retching. It’s all burning acid and fresh flowers. Rot and fester and earth and greenery. A pair of cool hands—Wanda’s, you think—rest upon your forehead and move your hair away from your face.

Vomit and daisies leak from your mouth until your stomach is done contracting and your insides are empty. All that’s left is your sputtering coughs that taste caustic and beautiful.

It’s getting bad.

When you finally pull away from the toilet, slumped back and wiping your mouth, the toilet is full of an explosion of crisp white and bright yellow, tinged with the faint pink of blood. Wanda is glancing back and forth between you and the unflushed toilet, horror stitched on her face.

Before Natasha approaches, a glass of tap water in hand, you lean over and flush the petals down the drain. The look you shoot Wanda is pleading, but you don’t even know what you’re asking for.

Everything on the inside hurts, burning like a pit of snakes in your belly, hissing and spitting venom and biting into you like they mean to kill you. Perhaps the daisies have grown fangs. Your lungs feel chewed.

Nat places the glass in your shaking hands, her fingers holding your own as if she knows you can’t do it yourself. She helps raise the glass to your soiled lips and you gulp the water down like it’ll flood the valley unfolding in you.

“Who is it?” she asks, her voice calm but her eyes uneasy. You nearly choke, a hand pressing against the middle of your chest as if you need to feel your lungs as they work to assure yourself of your own survival.

“What?” you barely eke out, throat thick and scratchy. One of Wanda’s hands strokes down your back and she doesn’t speak, only shakes her head.

“Who is it?” Natasha repeats.

You look away.

“God.” Wanda sniffles behind you. “How could we not have realized?”

“Because it doesn’t happen,” Nat says, shifting from crouching in front of you to sitting on her knees on the floor, a hand resting on your thigh. “I’ve never known a single person—until now, I guess—who had it. I thought it wasn’t real.”

“They tell it like a fairytale in Sokovia,” Wanda says, her words just as watery as her eyes. “A story you lull children to sleep with! But I should have seen it. We should have seen it.”

A new abundance of petals tickle the back of your throat.

“All that art,” Natasha hisses, but she isn’t looking at you. She’s glaring down at her lap.

“All the daisies,” Wanda cries. Her head drops against your shoulder. You feel the wetness of her tears.

“It’s okay,” you tell them, but your voice is too small. “It’s okay,” you say, louder this time, tasting the flowers like they are the blood of your bitten tongue.

“Who is it?” Natasha asks again, a begging in her voice you don’t think you’ve ever heard before.

“It’s okay,” you say again.

And with this, Nat’s face changes from one of concern to something of realization—like she’s been struck with a thought she never considered, like she’s seen the future.

“It’s him.” Her jaw is slack, staring at you even as Wanda looks at her with confusion etched on her visage. “You have to tell him.”

“No,” you say simply.

“This is bad,” Nat snaps, as if you don’t know it already. “This is getting bad. You need to tell him or you’re—you’re going to die.”

A laugh breaks through the bathroom, echoing. “How can I tell him? How could I ever tell him that I love him when the simple fucking fact that these flowers are growing—rooting—in my goddamn lungs is proof that he doesn’t love me the way that I love him?”

You lean back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling.

“Sam Wilson doesn’t love me the way I love him,” you whisper.

The tips of Natasha’s fingers catch the tears you don’t feel streaking down your cheeks like the screaming of shooting stars, hot and bright and dying.

“It’s sort of beautiful, don’t you think?” Your nails dig into the fat flesh of your thighs, trying to puncture skin. “To make art of your own death. To make something lovely out of something so tragic.”

You can’t swallow it back this time. A cough wracks through you, jostling your bones, and you fold yourself in half as soft white petals emerge from your esophagus and choke you. You grind them against the backs of your teeth with your tongue, trying to mash them into nonexistence, but it’s not enough. You retch another wave of daisies into your awaiting hands.

Wanda calls your name and it sounds broken.

“Death like this,” you rasp, catching your breath, “is the most beautiful way to go.”

Your finger drags over one of the downy petals, a bead of blood catching on your skin and smearing across it like a brushstroke of paint, ruining it.

“Death like this is the only way I want to go.”

(“Hey beautiful, it’s me again. I heard you were going out with the girls tonight—I hope you have fun. I just wanted you to know that if you need a ride back home, or you get into trouble and need a hero, or anything, really, I’m just a phone call away. You need me and I’ll be there, ‘kay honey? I’ll be up if you need anything, at least ‘till you get home. Have fun, girl.”)

—INNOCENCE—

You’re beginning to ask yourself if the mirror lies.

It doesn’t. You know that. You’ve been trying to find the lies in it for years at this point, pinching and pulling at all the places you find are thicker than the women you see on TV, the women you see floating around the Tower, the women you’ve seen on the arms of Sam Wilson. Chubby hands caress down your soft belly, poking and prodding the skin you wish you could make disappear. The mirror never lies.

But you wish it did when you stare at yourself and all you see are the bruises beneath your eyes, the hollows in your cheeks, the drained look in your gaze. The longer you stand there, the less you recognize yourself.

You aren’t hungry anymore. You never get hungry—the flowers filling up all the space in your stomach, coughed up from your lungs and swallowed back in pieces. Perfume is what your mouth tastes like now. Perfume and iron. The vomiting hasn’t stopped since the night your secret was revealed to Natasha and Wanda.

And you’ve never looked better.

That’s the part you hate. The part where when you look in the mirror and you can see the places where those daisies have shaved you thinner. It almost makes you laugh. People say you pack on the pounds when you find love. Maybe they should try having toxic flowers take root inside of them and slowly steal their lifeforce while they watch the person they love never love them back.

It’s a slow process, this death. You wonder which will kill you first—the starvation or the suffocation.

The walk down to the gala is as equally exciting as it is dreadful. You’ve never been to a Tony Stark gala before and you’re eager to dance the night away with your friends. But you’re also exhausted.

Oh well. The makeup helps you look less like a corpse and more like a dancing queen. The dress, which you’re sure someone paid far too much money for, is part of the solution. It’s all flowy and gorgeous as if you are a Greek goddess meant to be worshipped and highlights your figure while hiding all the imperfections the mirror seemed to find.

And when you finally enter the room, classical music playing from the live band and people laughing loudly and champagne twirling about the floor for people to take, the first thing you see is him.

Grin taking up his entire face, lighting up the entire ballroom, dressed beautifully in a navy suit that makes him look utterly dashing, is Sam Wilson.

He’s surrounded by people—women who are better dressed than you are—so with a shaky breath and a pain in your lungs, you quickly turn on your heel and head toward the next familiar face.

“Woah there, doll, where you hurryin’ off to?” Bucky, hair neatly pulled back and wearing a black suit, grabs you by your waist.

“Nowhere,” you blurt. “The bar. I just got here.”

He raises a thick brow at you, a silent question, but when you choose not to answer he shrugs.

“Well I can’t refuse to escort a pretty lady, can I?” With a charming smile, he holds his elbow out to you and gestures for you to grab on. You slip your hand around his arm and grasp him tightly, shooting him a grateful smile.

“Thanks, Bucky.”

But as the two of you start dodging through the crowd of excited party-goers, on your way to the bar in the back, Bucky stops short and gets a look on his face that you’re not quite sure you can describe as mischievous, but it’s close enough to make you frown.

“Y’know what,” he says, glancing over at you with that boyish grin, “I think we should take a spin on the dance floor instead.”

“Oh no,” you tell him, eyes wide. “I can’t dance—”

He snorts. “I’ve seen you dance around the kitchen, doll.”

“I can’t dance in front of all these people.”

“Can’t is a word for losers.” Bucky closes his hand over yours, locking you to his elbow. “Don’t wanna be a loser like Stevie, do ya? Oh Buck, I can’t stop fighting, gotta teach ‘em a lesson. Oh Buck, I can’t rinse out my cereal bowl, I gotta go for a run.”

It makes you laugh, maybe a little too loud, but it eases you just enough for Bucky to pull you into the menagerie of dancing couples, and then he’s moving your hand from his arm and onto his shoulder and clasping your other in his fingers.

“There we go.” His eyes shine like the ocean sparkles under the Tower lights.

Bucky has something magic in him, you decide, after two songs of him swinging you along the floor. He has something magic that makes everything so easy, which is something so admirable after all he’s been through. He has you laughing and smiling and spinning across the room with so little effort you forget all your worries in an instant.

“See?” Bucky dips you in his arms, making you squeal with glee, collecting the stares of the people peppered around the room. “Knew you could dance, doll.”

Panting, you rest a hand on his chest, still giggling. “Only ‘cause you’re so good.”

“Song’s over, Buck,” a new, familiar voice cuts in. When you look up, Steve is standing there, eyes crinkling with his own smile. “I can’t wait for another.”

At that, Bucky rolls his eyes with such drama it has you laughing yet again.

“See? I told you. It’s all can’t this, can’t thatwith Stevie. But fine.” Bucky guides you by the waist over to Steve, passing your hand over, and then gives you one last grin with all his teeth. “I had fun, doll. Thanks for dancin’ with me.”

“Anytime,” you tell him, and then Steve’s adjusting your grip on him. The song changes from the upbeat tune Bucky was twirling you to down to a slower classical piece.

“You doing okay, sweetheart?” Steve asks, his eyes roaming over your face.

“Yeah,” you hum. “Bucky and I had a lot of fun.”

Steve’s grip at your waist tightens a little. “No, I mean in general. Are you doing alright?”

There’s worry there—in the wrinkles on his brow, the blue skies of his eyes, the curve of his lips. You know he’s staring at you and seeing everything the mirror told you. All the gaunt places. The hollow, haunted look you’re parading around. The weight you’ve been steadily losing. You know he sees it.

“I’m okay,” you tell him, and you wonder yet again if the mirror ever lies. You know you do.

Steve sways you gently, more carefully than Bucky had. Steve dances with you like you’re made of something fragile. You still don’t understand why. You don’t know why he ever looked at you and saw something important, someone to protect. Maybe it’s just how he was born to be.

“You can tell me anything,” he says, so seriously that your heart breaks a little.

You move your hand from his shoulder and up to cradle his cheek, smiling.

“I know, Steve. I know.”

And if he pulls you into him, crushes you against his chest, and holds you like that for the rest of the song, no one mentions it. Steve lets you rest your head on his shoulder and, not for the first time, you think this must be how it feels to have a family.

But then the lights in the ballroom brighten a little and a spark finds its way into the music, changing into something jazzy and fun, and someone slaps Steve on the shoulder.

“Alright Rogers, she’s ours now.”

There, dressed like she could kill a man with her heels alone, Natasha has her arms crossed over her black satin gown. Beside her, in a red, flowy dress, Wanda has her hands on Nat’s shoulders, giggling from all the bubbly you’re sure she’s consumed.

Steve pulls away from you with a chuckle, holding his hands up in surrender.

“Alright, alright—she’s all yours, ladies.”

With that, Natasha pounces on you, and the three of you start to shimmy the night away together.

You lose count of the songs you spend dancing with them, sweaty and out of breath and having the time of your life, before you wave them off and step out onto the outside patio where hardly anyone is loitering. You pass up a couple sitting on a bench, cuddled up in the cool air of New York, and leave a man smoking a cigarette to himself.

Instead, you find a lonely bench far away enough from the gala that you can hardly hear anything but the bass strings resounding through the building. There, you sit, and turn your head up to the stars you can’t really see anymore.

“You okay, girl?”

Startled, you whirl around to face the object of your affections, standing behind you with his hands shoved casually in his pockets. He isn’t wearing his usual smile. Just staring.

And then you taste dirt. Freshly upturned soil coated in congealing blood. You cough into your hands and hear him approach, laying a warm palm on your back as you choke the daisies down and down and down, swallowing as many as you can, the pungent taste still ripe in your mouth.

“Honey,” he calls out all smooth and sharp like whiskey. “Honey, are you okay?”

You lick the blood from your lips. Sam crouches before you, gathering your cold hands in his, looking up at you with such a fucking expression that you want to kiss him so solidly he can taste the vines growing up your throat. You want his tongue to taste the soil of your suffering—the flowers of your own doom.

“I’m worried about you,” Sam says, his dark eyes searching your face for something.

“I’m okay,” you tell him, just as you’ve been telling everyone.

“You’re not looking so good these days,” he murmurs, and you recoil.

“Wow.” The hurt in your voice is so palpable it makes you cringe. “Thanks, Samuel.”

You move to get up from the bench, heart twisting, but Sam grabs your arms and cages you there.

“I didn’t mean it like that, darlin’, you know better than that.” He gives your arms—too soft too wide too fleshy too—a squeeze of reassurance. “You’re not painting much anymore either. You think I wouldn’t notice?”

Sam holds your gaze until it’s too much and you have to break away.

“C’mon, girl. Are you even sleeping?” Sam shakes you a little. “Eating?”

The flowers of evil root in your chest. See, you know how this book ends. You don’t need to read the last page to find out. It’s just as Baudelaire wrote, you know: “My heart is lost; the beasts have eaten it.”

Your organs have been replaced by daisies. Sam Wilson won’t love you—not tonight, not tomorrow, and not in time.

So you shrug, forcing your lips to curl into what you think might be a smile.

“I can’t paint. I’ve got too many flowers to press,” you tell him. Sam’s visage morphs into confusion, and he shakes his head slightly. He doesn’t understand. He won’t understand.

You take his arms from your body, holding his hands for a split second, long enough to steal their warmth and imagine what it would be like to hold them every single day, and then you pick yourself up off the bench and give him a wave.

“See you inside, Sam.”

And you leave him there, confusion still frozen on his face, the gritty blood ripping shreds in your damaged throat as you swallow it again and again and again in an attempt not to taste it anymore.

(“Hey, uh, it’s Sam. I was just calling to, uh, y’know, remind you about the gala. You have a date yet? I didn't ask anyone. I, uh, I wanted to ask this girl, but uh, I ended up waiting too long and I’m a little late so… I’ll see you there, honey. Try not to kill me with your good looks tonight, you hear? Save a dance for me, baby.”)

—THE SUN AND ALL ITS STARS—

Dishware rattles into your room, signaling Nat’s arrival. By the time you gather the energy to sit up in bed, she’s already entering, a tray of food in her hands and an icy look on her face.

“Breakfast in bed,” she says monotonously.

You shift and pull your duvet up as she fits the tray over your lap. There’s not much—a sweating glass of cold water beside an amber glass of apple juice, two slices of buttered toast, and some melon she cut up.

“Thanks,” you say, voice strained and weak.

Natasha doesn’t leave, but you wish she would. She seats herself on the edge of your bed, staring you down as you sip on your water. You purse your lips in frustration, but pick up the fork and begin to poke at the fruit.

“Eat,” she says.

“I’m trying,” you grumble back. “Stop staring at me.”

Natasha throws her hands up on the air. “Well if I don’t watch you, you’ll just sit here and waste away,” she snaps. “You’re not eating, you’re not sleeping, hell, you aren’t even coming out of your room anymore. You go to work, you come home, you don’t talk to any of us. Steve says—”

“Steve doesn’t know anything!” you shout, interrupting her. As soon as you do, her eyes narrow into slits and you shut your mouth, gulping. That wasn’t what you wanted to do.

Natasha takes a deep breath. “Steve says you’re still looking for a place.” It’s eerie how calm she keeps her tone. “Leaving isn’t going to stop them, you know.”

Even now, not doing anything but staring at the food in your lap, you can taste them like a funeral home, saccharinely floral, covering the smell of death.

“I can’t stay here,” you say.

“You’re dying,” Natasha stresses. “Please. Please, I am begging, krasavitsa. I’ve not begged for much in this life. But I am begging you to please, please tell him. Tell him or consider the other option.”

Two options in the scale, tipping weights. To die or to have the roots of true love carved out of your lungs, peeled away from where they wrap around your heart.

You stab your fork into the tender flesh of the melon. It gives way so easily, letting the tines puncture it. Natasha stares at you, her gaze heavy. Your fingers fumble with the fork and it falls, clattering, to the tray of dishes.

The blood is too hard to swallow anymore—it builds up in your mouth and stains your teeth red, the petals colored pink when they fall from your lips.

“Okay,” you whisper. Maybe you don’t even say it aloud.

“Okay?” Natasha asks. You nod your head, not looking at her.

“I’ll tell him.”

It takes you hours, it feels like, to gather the courage. With all the energy you have left in your bones, muscles only satiated a little by Natasha’s breakfast, you drag yourself out of bed and to your bookshelf. It’s memorized, the place where your book sits, and you pull it out with a gentle tug of your finger.

The Flowers of Evil, its pages nearly chock-full of pressed daisies that have ejected themselves from your body, eager to find the man you love and spill all your desires to him. You thumb through it, gaze flitting over all the damn flowers that have dried in this damn book, and you close your eyes in order not to cry this time.

You press the book tight to your chest, feeling the desperate beating of your heart echo through it, and you head to Sam’s room.

The walk is long and lonely—the Tower feels empty. Devoid of people. You’re a little glad because you’re sure that anyone could see the sickness painted on your body, the illness from inside you that’s staining your outsides. It’s not anyone’s fault but your own, really. The flowers are too beautiful to supplant.

And now, you’re in front of his door, a fist raised to knock, a loud buzzing in your head that keeps saying no, no, no. But your heart, traitorous thing still hammering away in your chest, it just keeps saying yes, yes, yes, finally.

Sam Wilson doesn’t love you.

But do you have any other choice except to take a garden spade to your lungs and dig them out of your chest cavity, to destroy your ribcage and break through the mulch that makes up your nervous system? Is the only option left to die at the hands of Sam or to wither away until your decomposition will feed the very things that killed you off?

You shudder a breath and knock on the door. And you wait. And wait. And wait.

He doesn’t come. He isn’t there. He doesn’t love you.

The tears come suddenly—unexpectedly. They are hot and stricken and fast. They drip off your chin and careen down your neck and dampen the collar of your shirt and your hands are trembling, grasping your book too tightly, to even begin to wipe them away.

You don’t know why you’re crying. You already know this. Sam Wilson could never love you the way that you love him. Sam Wilson is perfection, you know. He possesses the strength of gods, he radiates love, he’s passionate about every fucking thing he does. He’s beautiful. He’s everything and you are nothing when standing next to him, but you love him. You love him.

Sam Wilson doesn’t fucking love you.

“Well,” you laugh to yourself, “I can either die a fool or live a life without you.”

I can either die in love or live my life not knowing what it feels like to be in love with you.

Something tickles your tongue. You reach between your lips and pluck it from your mouth, letting it sit upon the center of your palm. Blood drips down your arm like a river, violent and sooth.

The daisy covers your entire hand, white petals tinged with pink reaching toward your fingers. The center, all yellow florets seeming to seek out warmth, are so bright and full and so big—these are too big, they could choke anyone, anyone, they are choking you.

And like them—god, just like them, just like these daisies that grow from your lungs and destroy you from inside out—you are heliotropic. Everywhere you go, you’re focused on the sun, looking for the sun, stretching toward the sun.

You need the sun.

So you crumble the daisy in your hand, fist tight, blood still easing from between your fingers. You back away from his door, then turn and break away to head back to your room in silence.

You’d rather die loving him than never getting to see the sun ever again.

(“Hey girl, it’s me. Just calling to let you know that Steve and I got called for a mission. It looks like an emergency, wheels up in ten and all that. I wanted to catch you before we gotta go, in case you wanted to say goodbye. To Steve, I mean. Just in case. Take care of yourself while I’m gone, sweetness.”)

—FAREWELLS—

It happens faster than you think it will. You swear you have weeks, or a month at least. You swear you have time.

Four days later, your knees buckle and slam into the wooden floor beneath you, stomach contorting and contracting, balloon finally bursting. Someone is shouting your name from the common room, something is knocked over, scrambling. You barely hear it over the sound of your own vomiting.

On your hands and knees, you stare down at the lump of flowers you couldn’t swallow back. They’re coated in a mixture of soil and blood and stomach acid, but the sweet perfume scent breaks through the rest and makes you retch again. It smells so sweet. So sickly sweet. Dead people and churches.

Did churches always smell so much like blood?

There’s a hand on your shoulder. It’s pulling your hair from your face. Someone is saying something—something—something you can’t make out over the blood rushing between your ears.

You’re dying. This is it.

You collapse upon the ground, rolling onto your side, arm thrown over your mouth as if that will stop the flowers from pouring out of your body. And when you blink, trying to see through the dizziness, it’s him again.

The god of the fucking sun, your sun, mouth moving frantically as he says things you can’t hear and the little gap in his teeth that makes you feel at home when he smiles at you and his eyes, oh, Sam Wilson has eyes that set you on fire and burn you alive and you’d be happy to die like this, you’re so happy you get to die like this, so thankful that the daisies chose you, so thankful you chose him.

You were right. Death is so beautiful like this.

“It might be too late.”

Helen Cho’s heels clack on the tile of the medbay’s room as she shoos the nurse out with a wave of her hands, shaking her head. He shoots to his feet, fingers already curled into fists, and he shoves them in the pockets of his jacket to hide them.

“Too late?” It’s impossible for him to keep his voice low. “How can it be too late? What even—What’s wrong with her?”

She frowns at Sam, folding her hands together in front of her.

“It’s… rare,” she says. “Some of us didn’t think it was real, to be frank with you.”

His brow furrows. “What is it?”

“A disease caused by unrequited love,” Helen says plainly, staring straight at him. “Typically, the patient finds themselves in what is regarded to be true love, but the feelings are not returned, so they build up. It’s theorized that the stress of that creates the problem.”

Sam swallows and it tastes like vomit. “Unrequited love?”

She ignores him, continuing, “The part that is normally so hard to believe is that flowers begin to grow inside the patient, the roots puncturing their lungs and creating masses that eventually will suffocate their host.”

It’s a bag of bricks to his stomach. A super soldier punch to the gut. A bomb blown up in his face. Sam doubles over, clutching his middle, trying to breathe again. He can’t breathe at all. The flowers. The flowers.

“It seems she was swallowing them in an attempt to save herself,” Helen explains. “It’s what kept her alive much longer than she should have been. But now, I don’t know. It may be too late to save her. If she’d just said something earlier, than the surgery might have been able to stop it, but—”

“Surgery?” Sam asks, still gasping for breath. “What surgery?”

“You can extract the roots,” she tells him, glancing at the sleeping woman in the sickbed. “It’s a difficult procedure but it would have saved her. But, from the very little research we have on it, removing the roots also removes the feelings entirely. The love that the patient has disappears. They aren’t able to ever feel anything for that person ever again.”

He falls back into the plastic chair, his limbs numb. Or, at least that’s what he wants to do. But Sam doesn’t. He steadies himself, crosses his arms over his chest, plants himself so firmly there in the hospital room that he doesn’t think an earthquake can move him, and looks at her.

She’s sleeping, but she doesn’t look at peace. Her eyes, lovely things, are sunken in and it makes him so mad. Her collarbones have shadows beneath them and he feels fury wracking his own bones. And how long has it been since he’s seen her smile?

“Do the surgery,” he demands.

“You know I can’t do that without her consent,” Helen says, sighing.

“Then I’ll wait until she wakes up and get her consent,” he seethes through a locked jaw.

Helen’s face doesn’t change. “She might not wake up.”

“She will.”

Sam doesn’t get it. He understands—in a way—but he doesn’t really get it. He knows why she wouldn’t want to get a surgery like that. But he loves—he loves just as fiercely as she does, and that’s why he understands. Why he knows.

So why did the flowers pick her? Why would they pick her and not him?

Helen glances down at her feet, says nothing, and turns to exit the room. He’s left there in the silence, with the crowing of the machine keeping her alive to punctuate all his thoughts. If there is one thing he hates in the world, it’s feeling helpless.

He lowers himself in the plastic seat, leans his head back against the wall, and closes his eyes.

“You’ll wake up,” he says to her, but he can’t look at her.

Or maybe he’ll wake up and it’ll all be a dream.

There’s a soft rapping of knuckles on the door, and it opens slowly and quietly, and Sam has to lock his fingers around the arms of his chair to keep from jumping up and sending a right hook right at Steve’s face.

“How’s she doing?” Steve has the audacity to ask, has the audacity to look worried, has the audacity to pull up another plastic seat next to Sam.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he mutters under his breath, spite burning his tongue.

Steve glares at him. “Yeah, that’s why I asked. What’s your problem?”

“My problem is you, Rogers.” Now, Sam can’t help but stand, towering over the super soldier. He immediately grabs Steve’s arm and hauls him out of his chair, through the door, and out into the hallway. Steve stumbles, a hand on the wall, and Sam’s nostrils flare.

“How could you do this to her?”

“Me?” Steve sounds genuinely taken aback, but Sam doesn’t buy it. “What are you talking about? Helen told me—”

“I thought you loved her, too!”

He really did. That’s why Steve brought her to the Tower, didn’t he? That’s why they go out for lunch every other week and why Sam never gets a chance to take her out himself. Why he always makes sure to say goodbye to her before a mission, like he doesn’t want to leave her behind. He really thought Steve loved her too. If he had thought for one second that Steve didn’t love her...

“What?” Steve’s jaw slackens. “Not like that! She doesn’t—She’s not in love with me, Sam!”

He pants, unable to catch the breath that’s leaving him like a slow leak.

“Then who the hell is she in love with?”

Steve stares at him, a look that Sam can’t recognize, can’t name, in his eyes. Steve stares at him and smooths his hand down his beard, shaking his head.

“She’s in love with you,” he says, and Sam chokes.

Because all the pretty things in his world lead back to her and man, if she loved him, it would all be so perfect that he would never want to leave it. He would never want to say goodbye. He’d ask god and anyone else who would listen to grant him a deathless life so he could look at her forever, with no end in sight, because he would. He would. Sam would love her forever.

“No,” he says, a dry chuckle escaping his lips. “That can’t be true.”

“It’s true,” Steve says.

“That’s impossible.” He backs up, against the wall, holding his head in his hands and staring at the floor. “It’s impossible.”

“It’s true,” Steve repeats, staring past Sam and through the window of the medbay’s room to look at her, lying so still in her bed. “I know it is.”

“Steve, I’m in love with her,” Sam confesses, an ache in his chest. “It can’t be me. I’m in love with her. I’m so fucking in love with her.”

A heavy hand clasps his shoulder, and when Sam looks up, his breathing unsteady, Steve has a look of regret smeared all over his face.

“But does she know that?”

And, for the first time in years, Sam cries.

(“It’s me. I need to tell you something. Even if it will hurt, even if it will destroy—destroy what we have, I don’t know. But I need to tell you, baby. I need to.”)

—SINCERITY—

Sam Wilson thinks she’s starlight.

When she first arrives she’s a collection of stars and their ashes, explosions and deaths, supernovas and black holes and earthbound meteorites.

What he means by that is she’s covered in bruises but she’s so beautiful, and he wants to gather her in his arms and tell her it’s going to be okay.

Steve introduces her, and Sam tries to bite his tongue, but all his words pour out of him anyway as she holds out a hand to him and he takes it, soft and trembling, and he knows she’s special somehow. She’s special.

“You’re the prettiest thing I think I’ve ever seen,” he says, and he means it, but she ducks her head and tries to hide the little smile on her face.

Sam Wilson thinks the world of you. But even when the bruises fade, you’re still left with all the land and the water and the galaxies hidden in your eyes when he catches your gaze, and he looks at you and he swears that you’re reaching into his chest and taking his heart in your small hands and squeezing him dry. You have realms inside of you, he’s sure, all the worlds and all their wonders. But you—you look at Steve like that sometimes, and then Sam is just grateful that you even let him breathe in your general atmosphere.

He can fly, sure, but he certainly isn’t an astronaut, so this is about the closest he can get to you.

(“Your call has been forwarded to an automated voice messaging system. This number is not available. At the tone, please record your message.”)

—TRUE LOVE—

The first thing you see is the ceiling, hazy and sleep-filtered, but it looks just like the ceiling in that bathroom, back in Danny’s apartment, back when you thought the pain of love was bone crushing, before you knew the pain of love was slow suffocation.

It makes you stutter back to life and that sends you into a coughing fit. You can still taste them—the daisies. They taste like the rawness of sunlight.

Hand pressed against your chest, your eyes dart around the room, trying to catch your bearings. There’s an IV in your arm, the bed railings are plastic, Sam is sitting in the corner, the lights are dimmed.

Sam Wilson is sitting in the corner.

You gasp, looking at him, and he’s staring right back at you, a familiar book in his hands.

Sam Wilson is sitting beside your bed, holding The Flowers of Evil, and the look on his face is far from happy to see you. It’s not anger. And it’s not sadness. It just… is. And Sam is never “just” anything.

Even if he thinks that sometimes, like the times when he calls you and says, “It’s just me,” as if he isn’t something special, so important you can’t live without him in your life.

Well, you can’t live with him, either.

After a solid minute, Sam looks down at the book between his dark hands, and he begins to sift through the pages. He stops sometimes, lingers on the sheets of dried daisies that have been pressed, their color leaking onto the text only slightly. But then he moves forward, searching for something. You don’t know what.

“How long have you been here?” you ask, throat sore when you speak.

“How long have you been in love with me?”

Your teeth gnash together, bite into your bottom lip, worry a sore there as he doesn’t look at you. He just keeps flipping through the book as if he didn’t just thrust a dagger straight through your heart, as if it isn’t beating so fast and hard like it’s trying to stay alive. You feel like you can’t breathe and you don’t know if it’s the flowers crawling out of your lungs and trying to get to him or if it’s the fact that he knows.

You can’t answer him.

Sam stops on a page, his finger trailing over the script, and then he begins to read.

“And yet

to wine, to opium even, I prefer

the elixir of your lips on which love flaunts itself;

and in the wasteland of desire

your eyes afford the wells to slake my thirst.”

“Les Fleurs du Mal,” he says, shutting the book with a thump and striking his palm with it. “Baudelaire sure had a lot to say, didn’t he?”

Your mouth is suddenly so dry. There’s a pink pitcher of water next to the bed, just like a hospital would have, and you reach weakly for it. Sam grabs it immediately, pouring you a cup, and passing it gently to you. You gulp what you can down through the straw, hardly breathing.

When you finally feel like you aren’t going to cough your lungs up into your hands again, Sam takes the cup back from you, and embarrassment is a cold shiver down your spine.

He sits back down beside you, looking straight at you. “Do you want to get the surgery?”

Your lips part to speak, but he interrupts.

“Be honest.”

Chewing your lip, you take a deep breath. “No. And I never planned on it, either.” From the corner of your eye, you see his jaw tighten.

“Why not?”

“Because what is a life without the fucking sun, Sam?” The words are spat from your mouth. “A life spent not loving you—not knowing you, not feeling you anymore—it wasn’t worth it. Because I love you, Samuel Wilson. I have loved you since the day I met you and you told me—told me I was pretty for some goddamn reason. And I’ve loved you every day since. I love everything about you and there is not a single iteration of life that I would want to live if it meant not loving you.”

This time, nothing tastes like blood. It’s all just daisies, like they’re populating your mouth, changing the way your tongue works, turning to paste in your teeth. It’s so strong that it hurts. Like you’re eating paper valentines and crying too many tears as you say goodbye to a body in a casket.

But it’s beautiful and lovely and gorgeous because you swear that, somewhere beneath it, you can taste what you think love might taste like.

Sam doesn’t speak and it hurts, but it tosses your book down on the side table and reaches into his pocket and it still hurts. He pulls out his phone. You swallow down the rising earth in your chest.

He pulls out his phone—no, it’s your phone. He turns the screen toward you and punches in your password. You furrow your brows. When did he learn your password? But it doesn’t matter, really, because he just swipes to your call log and pulls up your voicemails. And then he begins to play them.

“Hey there darlin’, it’s just me. I couldn’t find you anywhere—where you at? I thought we could go pick some up and I’ll hang ‘em up. You need me and I’ll be there, ‘kay honey? I, uh, I wanted to ask this girl, but uh, I ended up waiting too long and I’m a little late so… I’ll see you there, honey. I wanted to catch you before we gotta go, in case you wanted to say goodbye. I need to tell you something. Even if it will hurt, even if it will destroy—destroy what we have, I don’t know. I’ll catch you later, darlin’. Have fun, girl. Save a dance for me, baby. Take care of yourself while I’m gone, sweetness. But I need to tell you, baby. I need to.”

The sobs fall from the broken seal of your lips, loud and crashing, like a waterfall. Your hand, shaking and weak, comes up to try to cover your mouth, but Sam lunges forward and catches your wrist in gentle fingers.

He’s looking at you like you’re everything—and you know, you know now that you are—to him.

“You’ve been saying that this whole time?” you ask, a laugh bubbling up from your lungs. No flowers retch up your throat.

Sam smiles, lips pulling back to reveal that gap in his front teeth.

“You haven’t been listening, baby girl. I’ve been tryin’ to tell you I love you for months.”

He rests his forehead upon yours, and as close as he is, all you can smell now is the spice of his cologne. Nothing smells floral.

“I never would have thought,” you whisper. “I was sure—so sure—that you didn’t love me. I thought because of the flowers, I thought that meant for sure that you didn’t love me. I mean, why would you? Why would you ever love someone like me?”

“Honey,” he says, so softly, “you’re starlight.”

Tears flood your cheeks and Sam cups your face in his large hands, wiping them away with gentle thumbs.

Sam Wilson is sunlight. You never considered that you could be starlight.

“Why wouldn’t I love you, darlin’? You’re so good, so gorgeous, so perfect.” He laughs and it makes you laugh too, but it comes out like a sob. Your heart feels lighter. “But you’ve never considered yourself worthy of love before, have you?”

“I’m sorry,” you cry. “I’m so sorry, Sam.”

He hushes you, soothes you, smooths his palms over the planes of your face and over your hair,

“You don’t have to be sorry, baby. It’s okay. You’re okay.” He presses a warm kiss to your forehead and the memory of every single time he’s kissed your forehead like this flashes through your mind, an electric current, and you wonder how you never saw it before now.

“I love you,” you say, and this time, your lungs don’t feel as though they will burst from the pressure, the roots, the vines twined around them. You don’t feel choked by petals. You don’t taste blood in the back of your mouth.

“I know,” he says, “and if you let me, I will spend the rest of my days with you convincing you that you are worthy of love, honey. Because I’m in love with you. I’m so in love with you.”

When he presses his lips to yours, he doesn’t taste like flowers. Not like the daisies that wrote your death sentence. He tastes like golden pools of sunlight, warm and wanting. This is your heliotropism. You are a magnet for him, Sam Wilson, god of the fucking sun.

And maybe he’s phototropic, always drawn to you, moving toward your starlight.

(“Hey, it’s me. Sorry I missed your call! I’m on my way home now, and guess what? I have a surprise for you. It’s a bit ironic, but I think you’ll like it. What do you think of the name Daisy for a baby girl?”)

#sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson x plus sized reader #plus sized reader #sam wilson angst #sam wilson fanfiction #hanahaki au #sam wilson fluff #thanks for supporting me!#divine masterlist #the flowers of evil

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snowywrites · 3 years

Text

Yuri x popular Fem!reader

summary: fluffy fic in which the reader sees Yuri while working at a coffee shop and intends to be closer friends with her.

word count: 2.1k

"Y/N!"

You stop in your tracks, turning to scan the tables around you for the source of the voice; it was kind of familiar, and your eyes fall on a customer that's a regular here at the coffee shop. A young man around your age, usually here with his friends but alone today.

You had been about to go make another coffee for a different customer, but you force a service smile onto your face and hurry over to his table. "Hello!" You wrack your brain for a second to bring a name to this man- it wasn't easy keeping track of so many different people, and not just at your job! You also tried to keep tabs on the majority of your peers from school, too. Fortunately, it clicks a moment later. "Hatsumi, was everything alright?" You ask, noting he's already finished his pastry and drink.

Hatsumi grins, clearly pleased you had remembered him. Customers tended to get really happy over little things like that... if only they knew you did this with all of them. It was no secret you were one of the favorites here at the little shop, consistently getting better tips than many of your coworkers. "It was great!" He answers you brightly.

You nod and inquire politely, "Would you like me to go ahead and bring the bill out now?"

A moment of hesitation, and then, "Oh- uh, yes, thanks." He seems a bit disappointed, but you don't have time to dwell on it right now, not with how busy today's rush hour is. The only good thing is you're hopefully going to be getting off in about a half hour.

You assure him you'll be right back and then flit off to the counter to ring up the items he'd ordered and print the bill. As you're doing so, you feel a tap on your shoulder.

Glancing up, you see your favorite coworker, a girl several years older than you. "Y/N," she begins, a bit of a pleading look in her eyes that means she's about to ask you for a favor.

Biting back a sigh, you push down whatever annoyance you have at being interrupted to look expectantly at her. "What's up?"

"Can we please switch tables really quickly?" She practically begs you.

Switching tables wasn't too terribly uncommon- sometimes when guests came in, the baristas would know them outside of work and might ask a coworker to deal with the order and anything else.

"Sure," you giggle, ever the people-pleaser. You had a reputation to keep, after all! You don't like to brag, but you do enjoy the fact that you have many different friends and are well-liked by just about everyone you know. "Who?"

She gives a hop of delight. "Can I take the bill to Hatsumi?"

You can't help but smirk mischievously. "Ohhhhh, I see."

She lightly smacks you on the arm, instantly blushing. "Nono, I just-"

You cut her off before she can defend herself, knowing the two of you don't really have the time to waste playing around. "It's no worries. And who's that order for?" You question as you point at the circular silver tray in her hands which is holding a cute polka-dotted cup of tea.

"Ah, this goes to table three, the girl with the purple hair."

You nod, exchanging the bill for the tray. You want to watch and see what will happen between your friend and Hatsumi, if anything, but when you look towards the designated table, already heading for it, you realize you recognize the girl sitting there.

You have no trouble recalling her name. One of the members of your Literature Club, Yuri...

You haven't actually been in the club all that long at all, maybe a week-ish, and you feel like you haven't had any time at all to get properly acquainted with Yuri. Part of you feels that it's a shame, because you get the sense she's a very interesting and sweet person beneath her quiet and distant shell. It's just hard when she's always reading, and even in the rare moments she's not, she doubts herself so much during conversations with you that it just ends up being a bit weird.

But not today! No, you're suddenly filled with a sense of determination to get closer to Yuri.

You consider playfully scaring her when you walk up, but ultimately decide against it; aside from being naturally timid anyway, she's also, as usual, reading, and doesn't seem aware of anything going on in the shop around her. So, yeah, best to use a more gentle approach.

"Hey, you," you say, putting all the friendliness in your voice as possible, stopping beside the table to greet her.

In spite of everything, Yuri still jumps a bit in her seat, violet gaze flashing up to you in alarm.

'So much for trying not to scare her,' you think unhappily. Pushing that thought away, you give her a reassuring smile. "Sorry, it's just me! Y/N. We're in the Literature Club together," you try to remind her, wondering with a pang of horror if she's actually forgotten who you are. That would be a first for you.

A second of silence, but at last Yuri's tense grip on her book loosens, and she glances down at it, avoiding making eye contact. "O-Oh, I'm sorry."

Another awkward beat of silence. This was what you meant!! It always went like this with Yuri, and you wished more than anything that you knew how to make her more comfortable around you. Hoping to carry the burden of saving this interaction, you laugh nervously, "It's no worries! But, you didn't forget me, did you?" As much as you're just trying to joke around, there really is a slight feeling of hurt that that may very well have been the case.

Yuri stiffens, quickly answering, "No, I- I didn't!" It's a rushed response, louder than you've ever heard her speak and yet still quieter than most people's normal speaking voice. As if embarrassed by her small outburst, she ducks her head to add quietly, "Uhm, that is- I just meant that... I wouldn't ever forget you, Y/N."

Oh. Talk about giving someone butterflies. You never knew what to expect with Yuri- sometimes she could never get her words out, but then other times she'd say something with such a deep meaning that it would catch you entirely off guard. What's odd though is you know for a fact how truly sincere she is; Yuri is the type of person that's much deeper than most people, and she wouldn't say something if she didn't really think or believe it.

"Thank you, Yuri," you say warmly, setting her tea down near her on the table. "Here you go! I like this kind, too." Truthfully, since you hadn't taken the order yourself or even made the drink, you weren't 100% sure what kind of tea this was, but you were willing to try anything to make Yuri more at ease. It also wasn't unheard of for you to make conversation with customers, even if it was busier than usual right now- for once though, you weren't aiming to make a good tip or secure a regular customer. You genuinely wanted to talk with her. "Hey, is that the same book you're reading at the club?" You question after catching a glimpse of the cover art.

She shakes her head, causing some of her bangs to fall into her face. Brushing them out of the way, she frowns and then nods. "W-Well, kind of. I finished that one yesterday... this is the sequel," she explains.

"It must be pretty good if you want to read the next part already," you comment. "What's it about?"

As predicted, Yuri noticeably perks up. "Oh, I think you would really enjoy it, Y/N. It's about-"

"Y/N!"

You flinch at the stern voice of your shift supervisor, who apparently hadn't realized Yuri was speaking when he cut her off.

You glance back to see him gesturing at you in clear annoyance, motioning to the line of guests waiting for their drinks to be made. You nod, signaling you'll be right over.

Focusing back on Yuri, you're unable to mask your disappointment. "I'm sorry, I've gotta get back to work. I'm supposed to be off in a little bit though."

Yuri seems to also be discouraged, apologizing for keeping you, even though you're the one who had intentionally kept the talk going. She bites her lip, and then, probably overtaken by a brief moment of courage, suggests, "When you get off, maybe then I could tell you about the books?"

You're stunned, but at the same time, this was precisely what you'd been hoping for! "Yes, sure! That sounds great. I'll see you then!" You chirp, hurrying away.

The last of your shift passes by rather quickly, and when it comes time to clock out, you actually have to tell your supervisor no, you can't stay another extra hour even if they are busy, because you have plans! Normally you would have, but not today.

You meet Yuri at the door and the two of you leave the coffee shop together. The sun is close to setting, but not quite there yet. "Thank you again, Yuri! I like spending time with you, I've just been a little busy lately," you say.

Yuri mumbles something you can't quite hear, but then adds more clearly, "I-I'm glad..."

"So," you begin, clasping your hands behind you and beaming at her. "About those books!"

That's all it takes for Yuri to dive into an explanation of the main plot points as the two of you walk side by side towards your home.

You're more than a bit tired from work and standing on your feet for so long, but it's nice to have company on the walk back, especially someone like Yuri. You hum and comment every so often, honestly thinking that they did sound like the sort of books you would enjoy. Full of fantasy and mystery and thrills... and of course, romance.

"So, the main character ditches his friend, who's been with him the whole time, for the new girl? And she's from the enemy's group?" You surmise.

Yuri hesitates. "I don't want to spoil anything for you if you're wanting to read them for yourself..."

"Such a tease," you sigh, pretending to be betrayed. "Oh, we're here- this is my house."

The two of you stop at the gate leading to the front yard of your home, and you're positive you aren't imagining the plaintive expression on Yuri's face. You didn't really want your time together to end either, but alas, you both have classes tomorrow.

"If- If you really would like, you can borrow the first book from me," offers Yuri. "And then... you'll see for yourself how it all goes."

You nod enthusiastically. "Yes, please! Thank you, that's really sweet of you! We can discuss it too after I'm finished reading it. I think I already know who my favorite character is going to be, though."

Yuri tilts her head curiously. "Who would that be?"

"Nope! It's a secret, for now." You pause, glancing up at the darkening sky. "Will you be okay walking home by yourself?"

Her violet eyes soften at your concern. "Yes, I don't live very far from here."

You find yourself unsure of how to say goodbye to Yuri, an uncertain quiet settling over the two of you, but she doesn't seem to find it awkward. "Okay, if you're sure. Do you mind giving me your phone number, though?"

She starts in surprise, a dusting of pink covering her cheeks. "U-Uhm- I- you-?"

"So you can text me when you get home," you quickly defend your reasoning, feeling a bit shy yourself at Yuri's reaction. She really was unique- most people tried to play it cool when asking for or giving numbers.

"R-Right," she stammers, reciting it off for you, and her phone buzzes at the quick text message you sent her so she would have your number.

"I'll see you tomorrow then, at the Literature Club," you finally say, already looking forward to it. "And don't forget to bring the book, please!"

Yuri steps back, her gaze on the ground but you still see her smile to herself. "Yes, I will. Bye, Y/N." She seems like she has something else she wants to say, but then she gives herself a shake and quickly turns away, her long hair twirling to follow her.

You watch her go until you can't see her anymore, partly due to wanting to make sure she was safe.

You couldn't help but admire her for her intelligence and beauty, even if she seemed to admire your social skills in return. Hopefully this was the start of a very deep relationship with Yuri.

#yuri #yuri x reader #ddlc x reader #doki doki literature club #reader insert #scenario #imagine #fem reader #ddlc reader insert #preference

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ruakichan · 2 years

Text

Memorial Saga: Athlon

Here’s my (very long) playlog of MS:A. Has the usual warnings of spoilers for the entire game, theorycrafting, ALL CAPS EXCITEMENT, gratuitous amount of screenshots, and some shipping. It’s a doozy of a lore drop, so exercise care if you want to discover the story on your own!

Hit the cut for more!

Opening intro. Art is much nicer this time around compared to Ramge's.

Man, NVF’s royal family is so good looking. Her name is Katarina. You can't fail with those genes.

Athlon looks like he's cradlng a girl's blouse or dress here. Younger sis? Emma?!

New character, Ina.

Story starts off with Athlon basically dream-narrating the intro for us and how Ina is such a taskmaster...

His relationship with Ina is banter-y. Good odds she’s gonna be Zeon’s mom.

Looks like Ina found Athlon 10 years ago and they’ve been together since then. Seems to confirm there was a younger sister though, when you talk to a little girl NPC in town and he starts getting nostalgic. Zeon lost a younger sister too, so here's Exos again with repeating tragedies.

Also looking around some more, looks like we'll be able to go to another town by airship—this one in Wasted Red. It'll come into play later so I'll leave it alone for now.

The text… kinda glitches. It blinks once and so it really throws me for a loop because I think it's actually advancing to the next text bubble. NOT EXOS WITHOUT SOME SORT OF WEIRD BUG!

Anyway, Ina tells Athlon that his ‘fan’ is here to see him and Athlon knows who she’s talking about. So he goes to the forest to meet his fan.

It’s Schmid. Rather, Schmid in the role of Gale LOL. Athlon keeps stealing his bounties. They immediately get into a dick measuring contest on who is the hyung and who is the rookie.

They banter a bit about this before deciding it’s best to just fight it out since that’s the Exos way.

This battle system is… pretty awful. LOL. Did anyone playtest this? (No. The answer is always no.) Schmid was defeated and… I'm not sure if my game hung up or… what… but I couldn't advance the story and just fooled around for a few minutes before finally something happened. oh exos

That said, that red sword is Zeon's sword. Wasn't it stated that Zeon stole that sword from Schmid when he ran off to go his own way (or rather, Schmid let him steal it)? … well, that feels a bit ominous...

And looking over his orange FC that you get from this MS, "he has yet to recover from the past incident" and "prefers to work alone instead of a team" so yup. Someone's gonna die and it ain't Schmid. And the FC uses Athlon's sword. So yeah. LOL. Interesting that the second skill doesn't have Zeon in the animation, so they did bother to change it a bit to keep it lore accurate.

yes i bought the fc

It’s a bit of a close battle, until Athlon lures Schmid under a tree and drops a net on him. Schmid calls him a dirty cheater but Athlon says it’s a lesson that’s common here in Lenombe. He picks up that Schmid is from Brunn and says that this is something Schmid should learn; skills don’t matter, just whoever is smarter will win, but since Athlon is such a nice guy, he’ll let Schmid go without asking anything in return. ... except...

LOL cute, Schmid finds the roads of Lenombe confusing. I guess it’s quite different from the wide fields of Brunn.

This find the cat subquest. … that's… that's Sia's sprite they're using for this generic cat? They couldn’t at least just remove the blue bow??? Weird.

This sidequest to learn more about Schmid…

Ina tells him to just ask Schmid directly, but then Athlon's like:

… *looks at the camera*

Ina says she finds Schmid a capable fighter and Athlon's a little jealous.

Ina won't say if Athlon or Schmid is better, so Athlon runs over to Schmid and just decides to be direct with his questions instead and just tells Schmid to tell Athlon about himself.

Pretty cocky there, son.

The mention of Katarina seems to make Athlon react a bit poorly (”got a funny look on his face”)? Is he feeling competitive?

Back to the main story.

Schmid is smoozing with food and drink and gets a bit drowsy, so Athlon decides this is a good time to start talking shop. And offers a partnership contract.

Schmid is like 'I better look over it' to Athlon's dismay. lol Schmid says it looks okay, even as Athlon does a >D face, so I don't think Schmid looked it over as carefully as he should have.

Oh my god, trying to square the wise, easy-going old man Schmid we know with this cocksure youngster is just too much hahaha.

holy shit athlon just hearted at schmid ("I even got you a room" LOL WHAT)

Ina berates Athlon for taking advantage of a kid. … but Athlon tosses it back at her, saying she's the one that spiked Schmid's food.

I can't get over the fact that Schmid is called Servant No 2 LOL. Anyway, Athlon goes to fetch him the next morning and Schmid's got one hell of a hang-over and is absolutely confused about everything. They go meet the "Boss," Ina.

Schmid is confused about this Servant No 2 business and Athlon tells him to look over the contract. Schmid maintains there's nothing about that in there, but Athlon says to read the back—oh, his bad. The papers were stuck together. Schmid's been scammed. All the work for little pay.

Schmid's pissed as hell, but Athlon says he better do as told or else…

Athlon discreetly leaves as Schmid gets a hard lesson on why Ina's the Boss.

Schmid's quiet when Athlon returns… and he says it wasn't as bad as he expected.

… this time Athlon's the one that gets "scammed" lol.

Athlon questions why Schmid's cut would get worse if he's getting better. Even Athlon feels a bit bad about it…

Wow they really are, like father, like son. LOL. Schmid must've felt helluva nostalgic while mentoring Zeon.

Ina tells Athlon to stop whining and go take care of a job at Wasted Red. This must be where that airship comes in.

Oh. MY. GOD.

OH MY GOD WHAT THE FUCK LOL HAHAHA?????? they literally took the time to animate him throwing a temper tantrum wDF??

Ina tells Schmid to go investigate some new ruins alone, but "ruins" immediately gets Athlon's attention.

… the quest text keeps referring to Schmid as Servant No 2…

They arrive in Hikan and immediately Athlon complains about it being hot while hanging off Schmid, who yells at him to get off. Tempers aren't improved by the weather.

oh god they are arguing who is more mature and there's so much dick measuring that i'm sure it'll be literal at some point

Since Athlon has no money, Schmid says he'll buy the drinks if Athlon shows respect.

I'm pretty sure that Mr. Schmid is sarcastic. LOL.

Time to explore! … I walk into a bar and… … is that Ina's sprite behind the counter? Talking with Schmid confirms it so… I'll just… walk out… for now…

Looks like ruins will be another place we can visit, going by this airship, but for now, continuing with the story:

The game sort of handwaves why Ina's there lol and shoos you to go hit the ruins.

It's the first time for both Athlon and Schmid to explore ruins. They both are pretty excited when they enter (blush emote for Schmid HAHAHA).

I said like father, like son before, but I think Athlon loves money more than Zeon does.

LOL.

Schmid asks Athlon what he'd do with the money and… he’s like “I’ll spend it all?”

???? i thought you had debts what is this

Schmid says this is why Athlon is an idiot. He’s always broke, so when he suddenly has money, that’s how he gets caught that he was scamming. And this is a sincere lightbulb moment for Athlon.

oh my god he’s like a manic pixie boy or something? Not... at all what I expected.

So they go to explore and come across a magic seal. Schmid questions if Athlon knows how to disperse them and Athlon's super confident! Cause of course he is.

Cause he’ll just break it.

oh. well. okay then.

Schmid asks him why break through the magic seal when there’s a wall right there. And Athlon is like, “cause forcing through is the basic solution.” And Schmid’s like “even if the seal is harder to break than the wall?”

... then he agrees it’s a good idea.

*stares at camera*

So they bash on the wall with their swords cause why the fuck not and Athlon wins.

New characters, Dorothy and Aria, also exploring the ruins for a job. They’re hearing all the commotion and it’s causing them problems too. Schmid and Athlon run into them; well, more that the guys are excited about breaking more walls (???!) and the women are like wdf stop destroying things or shit might happen.

LOL.

The dudebros don't even care, it's 2 points for this wall, let's go.

The two women decide to book it. I have a feeling they won't be escaping these two disasters though.

The guys head further into the ruins but now they're just running around in circles. Then they notice dopplegangers of themselves over on the other side of the room.

…Athlon, please.

…. actually no, both of you, please.

They chase after the dopples and finally confront them.

The hit confirm in battles are so bad LOL. Also no SFX. I was expecting a bit more like what they were doing with the PVP in Quantum Raid. This is just very unsatisfactory to play. I appreciate them trying to do different gimmicks for each MS, but this is just …??

Anyway, they defeat the doppels and continue to explore and run across Dorothy and Aria again. (they're sisters) They scold the guys for breaking shit and can tell they're newbies to ruin spelunking. Athlon immediately throws Schmid under the bus LOL and they start fighting again.

But as Dorothy and Aria try to leave, a barrier blocks their exit. Schmid says they should work together. Athlon interjects.

Oh, honey.

Dorothy counter-proposes that she’ll get rid of the barrier for 200k, so Dorothy and Athlon begin arguing. Schmid goes to Aria and offers they blow this joint together. (he's not very smooth but I’m getting ship vibes here) Aria appears to be very shy and timid, and yeah, Schmid is very intimidating, so she hides behind her sister. LOL.

Hahah, Dorothy has a cocky hair flip animation. She's a know-it-all type (wizard trope). She and Athlon continue to argue. Aria reveals that Dorothy's magic isn't very stable which is why she’s hesitant to just break the seal herself, so Athlon relents and says they'll help out, but they get a free meal.

Dorothy very reluctantly relents (mostly cause Athlon is sketchy as hell).

Quest is labeled "New Servants" lol.

Working together they escape the ruins. Athlon is definitely being sketchy about the owed meal, saying he'll head over first and get things prepared.

Schmid has a bad feeling. He'd be right.

oh lord have mercy

Anyway, Athlon goes to fetch Dorothy and Aria, who are upset that they failed their job and had to make up some excuse to their boss. Athlon sees an opportunity and goes in on the pitch about how the sisters should come work for Ina.

Dorothy's like 'lemme just feed you and then go on my way.'

So they have their meal (Dorothy complaining they eat too much) and Ina is sizing them up. Athlon says he vouches for their skills.

LOL.

Ina offers them a contract and Dorothy looks it over and thinks it's pretty solid.

Athlon says he smells something burning in the kitchen though, and Ina runs off. Athlon then offers Dorothy and Aria an edited contract all hushhush Ina won’t know. And Dorothy's shocked that the terms really are better.

Schmid tries to interject but Athlon quickly stuffs food into his mouth LOL.

Aria has misgivings but Dorothy signs it before Ina can notice that the contract is changed.

Athlon's making a lot of evil emotes so … yeah. He definitely did something.

yup same verse as the first, another hidden page in the contract

Ina shows up and gives Athlon the what for.

They really gave Athlon a lot of animations LOL.

Anyway, Ina tries to fix Athlon's scam, and offers an even better offer, but on one condition. Dorothy accepts, saying she's heard good things about Ina as a boss, but just that Ina has a really shitty employee (Athlon) lol. Athlon throws another tantrum and Schmid goes to the ladies and says that if they (and he) leave and return right away, the tantrum will be over.

… sure enough…

Ina then comes out with the condition: she wants Dorothy and Aria to form a team with Athlon. Everyone sorta sweatdrops and Ina's like "he's not that bad, right?" and Schmid’s like “he’s harmless, I think?” Not exactly glowing reviews but hey...

Dorothy agrees, to everyone's shock, but she wants an apology. Athlon won't give it and Dorothy calls him a child.

Sidequest! Need to return to Khuntara for some flowers for spice. So you go to Khuntara to just steal the herbs from the bar there but… lol? Ina’s there. Keepign an eye on Athlon to keep him honest.

Gotta do it the hard way. When you return the flowers to Ina, she uses them on the not!Sia and Athlon runs off to cry because he's so moved.

god why is he such a drama queen

So back to the ruins with our new Servants No3 and No4.

Exploring it yields the inner caverns where the loot is. Athlon, of course, is ecstatic cause $$$$. We return to Ina and she gives out the payments… and of course, Athlon doesn't get much. (Notice the trend?) Ina tells him to buy his team a meal like a leader should.

Another sidequest with Schmid about his background. Athlon infodumps his own backstory and...

…. oh my god Athlon just seriously …

LOL. It's the intro for the MS word for word and just… .. Schmid falls asleep. Athlon thinks he's teary eyed over Athlon's """""""sad"""""" story.

A conversation can be initiated where they have another brief tuffle over junior/senior, where Schmid relents that Athlon can be senior since he's paying for the food—only Athlon complains about how much Schmid is eating. Schmid just waves it off, Athlon is the SENIOR after all. He should be able to take care of himself.

Another conversation can be initiated with Aria, where she's scared of Athlon and admits she doesn't like him. LOL.

Sidequest with Dorothy, Sisters' Story. Athlon questions why they're suspicious of him and it's cause he's a swindler.

Athlon feeding some tales here… (OR IS HE? I never thought about it, but the black/white hair thing is like Shu and Ramge...)

The sisters don’t believe him, which is good cause they hate royals. Athlon says he hates royals too—thinks they’re worse than swindlers. Dorothy says that the only people she finds worse than royals are those that allow others to walk all over them.

Ah, looks like the sisters are from Greenland. Greenland's political situation hasn't been compounded on too much, so this is nice. They're from House Exid. She says to avoid the royals of Greenland, and Athlon questions if maybe their entire family was killed by them.

Aria interjects that this subject is distressing for hers ister and that Athlon needs to just leave. Athlon obliges.

After eating off Athlon's dime, Athlon tells Ina that they have a team name, and it was decided on by four votes.

Ah. Yes.

LOL then the game asks you to name the team in a cute fourth wall break. But oh god. Now I have to spend six hours deciding on a name.

Well, when in doubt…1Helluva (Team).

So there's some people here to see Athlon. Oh boy, Yellowhoods. Oh! It's Al Radrun, the leader before Vinity took over. And this Shaheen sprite looks like… an ogre character? If so, that'd be the second one we've ever seen since Uloom. I'm glad they're showing more of the non-human races. I always liked in EH that the bestial races weren't like, automatically evil or something. Typically you always see races like minotaurs and orcs be only on the evil spectrum.

The Yellowhoods have a proposition.

Oh boy, that's music to to Athlon's ears. He gathers the group.

Dorothy objects to the team name. But yes, we're 1Helluva Team, okay?! Stop judging me!

Anyway, looks like we have to attack a "gang of bandits in the middle of town" although Al Radrun was explicit in that we can't hurt or kill them. …. the bandits are the guys wearing the yellow hoods.

The sisters are suspicious.

The plan is the 'secret technique.' "Brute Force." Yes. Like father, like son.

So after defeating the Yellowhood mooks, Al Radrun shows up but Athlon isn't interested in the reason why so much as the moolah. But he's a bit insulting about it, Al Radrun steals the payment back when Athlon runs off…

And the party realizes they've been robbed. They confront Al Radrun and Athlon can't abide being robbed, so it's a battle.

Cute, Al Radrun rides Shaheen to fight. 1Helluva Team defeats them though, and Athlon gets him to sign a "promissary note"... and promptly welcomes Servant No5 once it's been signed.

But it looks like Athlon's scheme didn't work this time: Al Radrun swiped the other page of the "promissary note."

oh my god

But before battle number 2 can wage out, Schmid unleashes the team's secret weapon: Aria being nice to Shaheen cause she gets along with creatures and asking Shaheen to join them. (Shades of Rera, then. Also Schmid apparently knows about this when Dorothy didn't cause he discovered it by accident. There was a bird on his shoulder. … oh no. Is this… is this how he gets all the birbs in his old man form?! Aria and Schmid seem to get along well oh ho ho)

And then Athlon basically just blackmails Al Radrun: join us or get turned into jail for being the leader of the Yellowhoods. But Al Radrun explains he can't join cause he's worried about his gang.

Al Radrun's sob story sounds a bit like Vinity's; he actually has a lot of anxieties and worries about being leader. He set up this fake attack cause he wanted to see how his gang reacted. He wish he had a vice deputy. He can't leave cause he's afraid his gang can't survive without him.

(Athlon is asleep…)

Dorothy says that Al Radrun can’t protect his gang forever and Aria chimes in that they can’t become strong if they’re always protected. Al Radrun gives in, but he asks that he doesn’t leave yet, he wants to make sure the Yellowhoods will be really okay.

The team (sans Athlon) decide to stick around Hikan a bit to help Al Radrun out before they can whisk him away as Servant No5.

We find out the Yellowhood design was done by Al Radrun lol and Athlon being a dick about it and hurting Al Radrun's feelings…

While Shaheen is off giving Athlon hell for being a dick, one of the sisters asks Schmid why Schmid lets Athlon call himself the leader.

lol. When questioned why he hasn't left, Schmid says it's like raising a child and hoping he'll grow up someday. .. (shades of Zeon)

Scene switch to Katarina. She's interrogating a Dragon Watcher about the Dragon Emperor. … she uses floaty (red!) swords like Shufraken. And she's helluva cruel, beating on this guy. Just "Speak. Speak." over and over as she beats him down to the ground and into a pulp. And then just fucking kills all the onlookers.

…. young Shufraken (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) shows up for cleanup. AAAAAAAAAA excited

!!!! Holy crap! Ina is part of Shadow Bane?!

Ah, Athlon might be this "Vessel"? Given all the things about Zeon and stuff.

Regardless, Shadow Bane warns Ina not to let Athlon and Katarina meet.

Three years pass.

Story quest is "annoy the heck out of the Boss." I see three years hasn't matured Athlon any.

But first a sidequest. not!Sia is missing. Athlon inquires why Ina keeps her around and Ina just says she's gotten attached. The cat is missing and Athlon says that the cat doesn't actually care, but Ina doesn't believe that and that the cat will come will called.

(... will this cat actually be Sia or related to Sia in some way?!)

It's Sia. Holy shit, who the hell is Sia then, cats do NOT live this long?! What is going on? Wait. Does that mean when Zeon’s village is destroyed, Sia escaped and that’s how Ramge found her?????? Did she lose her memory?

ATHLON PLEASE

A sidequest where the team (sans Athlon and Dorothy) are trying to cheer up the bulky Shaheen by saying they can't find him. Except Athlon is being a total dick about it and ruining it by saying he's right over there, even though everyone asked him to play along. Schmid shows up with his BFS to berate him. But Shaheen reveals himself so that the two don't fight. Everyone runs off, but Athlon, who says he wasn't gonna really try to find Shaheen and was just trying to spice things up. As he's sobbing. He's so misunderstood, this drama queen.

Back to main story; Ina has a mission in a new set of ruins. Within, we find a book. While the others ae trying to decipher it, Al Radrun finds a secret in the ruins, revealing a glowing orb.

That's like… a weirdly specific percentage, Athlon.

Except Athlon DOES react to it. The others preach caution (except Schmid who is interested lol) but he takes the relic anyway to sell.

OR WILL HE

Back at the inn… the eating emote is cute! I love all these emotes! Al Radrun was checking on his gang and they seem to be doing fine without him. Schmid proposes they leave Wasted Red. Aria says she deciphered part of the book they found and it leads to another ruin in North von Frosty.

Both Ina and Athlon react poorly to that. Ina suggests going back to Lenombe, but Athlon overrides her. Ina pulls himself aside.

Athlon talks a bit about how he felt when he lost everything and met Ina:

So his extremely carefree, weird personality is a coping mechanism and it saved him. Ina urges him to continue living like this cause he and Katarina shouldn’t meet.

Athlon assures Ina he won't be fighting Katarina "yet" and runs off. So he's definitely in it for revenge. DEFINITELY LIKE FATHER LIKE SON

Shadow Bane shows up. Katarina destroyed a town that was a HQ for Dragon Watchers. They also remind Ina of her mission: if she can’t control Athlon, she needs to dispose of him.

Back to our NVF royals. Oh my god, I want young Shufraken as a skin. He looks so good.

Shufraken berates Katarina that she’s been going around slaughtering people and he’s been having to clean up. He asks her reasons and she says it plainly: she wants to resurrect Accor.

So she’s a sociopath.

Shu questions this, saying that if Accor is resurrected, he might destroy the world. Katarina asks why is that a big deal and Shu says cause the world is his. LOL. That’s why he will stop her. LOL.

Hm, where is Katarina in the hierarchy?

They exchange more words; Shu says she has only strength but nothing else, and this makes her unfit. He will do his best to see her fall. They are definitely at odds, but it’s all very political.

Katarina asks Shu’s motive for going against her: for others it was revenge, but what is Shu’s?

Dream big, buddy.

Cut to outside the throne room of NVF.

There are "two Queens." Alexei greets the First Queen, who comments on how much he's grown and the second Queen complains that Alexei isn't mature just yet. So the brothers are all actually half brothers? The second Queen is Alexei’s mom. And the first queen makes it clear that Mahar is her son.

Shu's mother abandoned him? She’s a third Queen ... and it must be Katarina. WOW.

Oh my god, Mahar greets Shu with a music note of happiness. Oh my god, he really looked up to Shu? Holy moly what. what happened?!

(wait you just said...) oh no this is cute

Yeah okay, the first Queen is Mahar's mother, Alexei's mom is the second Queen. Shu's mom is Katarina… That explains why Mahar and Shu are the same age. I always thought that was a typo, but it makes sense now if the moms are different. (so SW isn't the only one that allows polygamy, which means you can totally marry Rachel, Ramge!)

Looks like Katarina is now slaughtering a lot of guards to get to a relic that NVF was holding onto (probably something from Misty). She approaches the room where the Queens and Princes are waiting…

Katarina kills the first queen. And then the second. She knocks Alexei out and is disappointed she can’t get a response out of the vessel.

Mahar goes after Katarina, burning with revenge. She rambles on about how she read anger is a trigger but she can’t seem to get a proper reaction from the vessel, as she advances on Mahar.

Oh… OH!! Shadow Bane had said they fed the wrong info about who the "vessel" was to Katarina. She seems to be under the impression that Mahar is the one meant to house Accor, so she's trying to get him to respond to "awaken" him.

He passes out.

Shu shows up, saying that Katarina has gone too far.

First:… four?

Second: INTERESTING. If this is true, that would be why Shufraken goes mad when he becomes the Dragon Emperor.

Shu berates her as an empty sword that has only strength, and she questions his emotions (pity, contempt) and tries to understand them, as she cannot feel them on her own. She is frustrated that there are no suitable vessels here and leavse to find another solution.

Off to Obliana with 1Helluva Team.

Some sprites aren't showing up. I have invisible NPCs lol. Okay, game.

Athlon is acting weird and oddly serious so Dorothy's concerned. Athlon gathers his team at the bar, but in the meantime, Shu meets with his father.

Mahar lost his memory and Alexei is in a coma. The two queens are dead, of which Mahar’s mother was most favored by the king. It sounds like his marriage to Shu’s mother was against his will for political reasons and he was unable to refuse due to his weak nature and lack of authority (the nobles basically ruled during Shu’s daddy’s reign, which is why Shu overthrew him).

I can see why Shufraken looks with contempt upon Ramge, who is said to resemble Shu’s father.

This becomes a bit of a turning point for Shu. He admits his mother’s methods are correct, but just executed wrong. His father pleads for him not to be like her.

NGL, the most interesting bits of this MS are Shu’s bits.

Back to Athlon.

The group gathers.

… since we know Schmid is a sad lonely old birb man, I'm very very worried about Aria's well-being.

No one is happy about Athlon's announcement. (Schmid even gets violent lol.)

Athlon reveals he wants to kill the third Queen of NVF, Katarina. Everyone's all O.o cause she has a terrifying reputation.

……. he IS a royal. … ahaha… AHAHAHAHAHA oh my god all that shit talk he was doing to Rachel, ZEON IS A FUCKING BLUEBLOOD HIMSELF.

……………………………….. wow so like are zeon and iris like… cousins twice removed or something?

No one believes he's royalty cause he's uh… a loser.

…

haha… hahaha…………………………………….

Schmid insists on going and Athlon demands to know why.

The two agree it’d be pretty cool to take down a powerful foe.

Then Schmid is like, after we’re done, I’m gonna tell Aria— AND ATHLON CUTS HIM OFF AND SCHMID IS CONFUSED AND THEN ATHLON DISPLAYS A BIT OF GENRE SAVVY BY SAYING YOU DON’T SAY THESE THINGS BEFORE A DANGEROUS SITUATION

Aria also insists on going cause she can hold her own now. She also is about to say some sort of "after this, I'll" before once again Athlon is like NO DON'T RAISE THE RED FLAG

And finally Dorothy also insists on coming. She hates royals but …

And she also has something else to say after this is said and done BUT. smh athlon doesn't know how these three managed to survive this far without him keeping them from raising red flags.

Athlon also speaks with Al Radrun. Athlon says he's going to use the relic he found and Al Radrun once again cautions him against using those type of things for power. Athlon reassures him if one isn't enough, he'll just get them all. ("You're going to have to steal from the palace!" Al Radrun protests lol and Athlon very honestly says "I'll need your help if so" lol.)

Once this is over… Athlon cuts him off. "I TRUSTED YOU" lol Al Radrun apologizes though; he gets it. Shaheen not so much though.

Athlon then returns to Ina and tells her that his entire team is determined to go with him. He's pretty light-hearted about the whole thing, even talking about having to get all the relics is necessary and that he has no plans on dying.

Ina: "You think death is the only problem here? If history repeats itself…" Athlon: "I won't let that happen."

Ina is adamant about Athlon not going but he drugged her. And she's out and he escapes.

She awakens to go after him… but there a bunch of Dragon Watchers lurking… oh no… and Shadow Bane also shows up. They will eliminate Athlon. They leave and Ina tries to go after them but…

Those Dragon Watchers are now meeting up with Katarina in Ina's bar. Looks like she killed a bunch of people on her way here too. These are her reinforcements. She reports the vessel has been broken.

"Firstborn seemed clumsy."

She then asks if there are other vessels. The Dragon Watchers are surprised she knew about other potential vessels and she said the Dragon Watcher in WR told her; and they find out that she was the one responsible for killing the DWs in that area.

So after what happened in the latest story chapter, I’m REALLY worried for Iris right now.

And she proceeds to slaughter these guys too. Single-minded.

One of the DWs, fearing his life, spills that the exiled NVF royals might have someone suitable. (Hello, Athlon.) She offs the rest of them as Shu enters, who says she has got to stop killing off the information sources. She states that she knows that a vessel is looking for the relics, so she will wait where the relics are and leaves.

Ina intercepts Shu as he was trying to leave, pleading for Athlon's life. That killing him won't buy but a small bit of time. She offers a way to get rid of Katarina. (Shu seems to know Athlon's name, so looks like he knows of that family.) Ina tells Shu they need Athlon to get rid of Katarina.

Ina tells Shu the plan (we the player aren't privy to it) and Shu agrees: Athlon must never meet Katarina.

Ina also asks a final favor from Shu: she says she's being hunted.

Yeah, Ina is gonna be Zeon’s mom. The conversation of why she’s willing to die for Athlon screams love. “complicated emotion people like you won’t know”

Athlon and co head into a ruin and run into Shu.

Team has to believe Athlon's royalty now LOL.

Shu and Athlon have a bit of a chitchat. Athlon's tone here is very singsong and playful, which is a counterpoint to his words and anger. He honestly sounds like he’s losing it. He mentions it’s been thirteen years since they last saw each other.

Definitely losing it.

Shu tells Athlon that Katarina is coming for him, and for Athlon to leave the relic and return to hiding while Shu takes care of things. Athlon says he's gonna use the relic to overwhelm her and stop her.

Athlon then battles Shufraken.

Then Athlon throws the battle and admits defeat and hands over the relic and this just screams fake-out. As Shu approaches, Athlon activates the relic and goes Super Saiyajin with gold eyes and beats back Shu.

Then 1Helluva Team go after the relic but Katarina is there.

Shaheen senses danger and him and Al Radrun try to escape but no one else is running, while Athlon seems mesmerized by the sight of Katarina. He's still in that sing-song mode and I'm preetttttyyy sure he's getting touched by a similar madness that takes Rachel when he's lost himself.

I think Athlon is taking Ina's advice about "losing your mind" a bit too far.

He attacks her, asking why she killed his family. His eyes are golden here, so he's using the relic power. Katarina asks why he's mad at her, she's genuinely curious.

Shu shows up since he needs the relic too, but Katarina strikes him down because she doesn’t need him as a vessel and Athlon takes this opportunity to attack.

Another battle. Athlon's skill changes to one where he heals when he attacks.

After her "defeat," Katarina just hands over the relic, telling Athlon to use it. Uh oh. Athlon uses it…

And then Katarina attacks all of Athlon's friends. The sisters manage to shield everyone from major damage, but everyone is trapped.

She attacks Dorothy.

She attacks Aria. Schmid tries to save her, but is too late. This one is sad cause Aria very confused and scared and pitiful. She’s not a hero.

Then Katarina attacks Al Radrun but Shaheen takes the blow instead.

Dorothy still tries to heal Aria but Katarina attacks her again. The remaining three try to attack her but fail.

Damn, another blow on Dorothy, the fuck, woman.

HMMMMMMMM ZEON?

geezus i’m sure that’s someone’s kink

Shufraken steps in and attacks.

Her sprite gets the white red eyes that Shu later has hm.

Looks like Katarina can't handle Accor's power because she’s not truly of the correct bloodline. But even at her death, she doesn't feel anything. She really is a sociopath.

… Shu isn't that much better either. LOL.

She dies, freeing the relic as the ruin is falling apart.

Dorothy, still gravely wounded, tries to get the others out by creating a teleporting circle at the cost of her own life. Al Radrun tries to get the relic, but his ankle is hurt and he can't make it to the circle. Athlon goes to him and asks for the relic. He's still focused on killing Katarina, nevermind that she's defeated.

They argue with Dorothy begging they hurry, and Shaheen goes and throws them both into the circle. But Shaheen fails to make it himself. "Hide. Method. Stupid. Hopeless." And he takes the relic and ... eats it? Hm.

The others escape into Obliana.

Aria passes. The birb's name is Blue. : ( Dorothy is dead.

Al Radrun wants to look for Shaheen and then the relic. Athlon, who is literally just living life in some deluded narrative, thinks Katarina is still alive cause there weren't any final conversations. Schmid wants revenge, even if he has to kill Katarina over and over. The three immediately start fighting. (Al Radrun being the only sane one here right now.)

Al Radrun leaves.

Back to Shu. He's with Katarina's body.

Ah, so this is how Shufraken gets his distinctive eye scarring.

Shu questions Shaheen about the relic but dismisses him as useless and kills him. Al Radrun comes across his body and mourns. He finds that Shaheen had eaten the relic in an effort to hide it.

Athlon returns to NVF's bar, but Ina's not there. He waits for her, paying the current barkeep a ton of money just to loaf around waiting.

Schmid and Al Radrun find him but he won't budge. Al Radrun delivers the news that Shaheen is dead and that Shaheen tried to hide the relic by swallowing it. But he can't get it out cause… well. So he asks Schmid if Schmid can remove it. The two exit.

Athlon finally goes outside. Schmid finds him and tells him that Katarina is dead. Schmid tells him he can't stay here or with someone like Athlon any more. He takes Athlon's sword, blaming Athlon for what happened.

It’s a bitter parting.

Athlon goes to Katarina’s body.

He berates his inability to fulfill his revenge and how directionless he is now.

After Athlon leaves, the Dragon Watchers show up and take Katarina's body…

Athlon runs into a young pickpocket, who he stops from stealing from him. The kid explains his family was killed by Katarina and he needs money to survive but no one will hire him cause he's so young.

Athlon asks him what he wants to do after he gets his revenge, and the boy is like, eat good food and have a lot of money.

So Athlon gives all his money to the pickpocket all his money, saying Katarina is dead. So go do that, since Athlon has no wish to do any of it himself. And tells the boy to make good friends and hold onto them cause it’s no use if they’re dead.

So Athlon wanders, asn time passes.

He reminiscences of better times and feels regret about his drive for revenge (another big theme in this game).

Back at Obliana, Shu is shown with the bandage over his eye. Mahar seems to be doing better too. He thinks he slipped down some stairs cause his memory is hazy. The King and Shu are both telling Mahar to leave; they apparently were having a meeting about the aftermath. The King warns Shu that the nobles are on the move after Shu (revenge probably).

Soldiers show up, after the “traitor” in an effort to exact some vengenance on Katarina’s child. So Shu reveals...

oh.

OH THAT WAS HOT. OH MAN HIM JUST SLOWLY PULLING DOWN THAT BANDAGE WAS HELLUVA HOT?!?!!?!?!?!?!?!!?

… Shu's sprite disappeared during this scene for me ROFL… but he summons the same swords as his mom’s and kills the guards.

Anyway, basically Shu's got a nice grand speech about puppetering and killing his dad as a stepping stone to becoming a proper ruler. The King protests, but Shu then threatens the life of both Mahar and Alexei. So the King relents to what will be his future sacrifice to Shufraken.

As Shu leaves, Mahar returns and seeing the red spectral swords triggers his memory of that day and the death of his mother. (IT'S ALWAYS THE DEATH OF MOMS OMFG). And… well…

So that begins.

The King offers a prayer...

While Shu starts to take over NVF, Athlon is still searching for Ina but couldn’t find anything. He's become a beggar outside the bar in Khuntara.

She finally shows up. She tells Athlon to go clean up. While he's off doing so, Shadowbane finds Ina.

She says she'll submit to the consequences, but give her a moment.

Athlon and Ina talk, she says she left him severance pay at his hiding place, and leaves. Athlon finds the pay but is suspicious cause Ina is a moneygrubber and WOULD NEVER. He runs off to find her.

Ina then meets up with Shadow Bane and is ready to go, but then Athlon shows up, beats them down.

So the two live together in a remote village, letting go of their pasts...

Now I'm wondering if Shadow Bane are really the ones that end up killing Zeon's family.

Meanwhile, he nobles of NVF go to confront the King about Katarina killing their heirs, but Shu is there… the King, with Shu whispering in his ear, is now stern, promising death to those rebelling. The nobles back down and Shu says he is looking for support in his bid for the throne. One noble readily agrees, but another is quick to say that they support Alexei... but when Shu gets a bit ominous, they quickly change sides. They leave.

Shu asks the King if people are aware of Katarina’s past. The King doubts it.

INTERESTING. Saying she’s a descendent of Cadmos puts Shu in line for Lenombe’s throne. oh ho ho ho

Oh, there's that Maloff guy that ended up betraying Mahar and Iris down the line… Maloff is loyal to Shu because Shu killed Katarina who slaughtered his family. Shu has a mission for him: “betray“ Shu and join Mahar.

Maloff questions why Shu is focusing on Mahar and not Alexei, who has the stronger forces. Shu says Alexei’s family are opportunists; they will bow to the stronger hand. Mahar is the bigger threat and Maloff is to be the mole.

There is one more thing...

Maloff asks if he is to dispose of them, but Shu says let fate do as it will. If they find her they will kill her.

HOLY SHIT SO YEAH SHADOW BANE DID HAVE A HAND IN IT…. in the sense that Shu did keep his promise to Ina: he used Red Skulls to hide the truth.

A few years later…

Aw, Athlon travels the entire continent to make the perfect grilled fish for Ina.

……………………………………………………………….. oh no.

oh. …

… oh my god.

… Zeon, please don't grow up to be like your daddy. My god. He's a bit broken.

Athlon gets a letter from Schmid. LOL.

oh god lol

oh… that dress must be Athlon's sister's dress.

… Zeon can't lose his family here though? Since he also lost a younger sister. I guess this is just to show Shadow Bane found Ina?

OH. MY. GOD.

OH MY GOD

OH MY GOD IS MY THEORY RIGHT ARE RACHEL AND ZEON COUSINS AFTER ALL (oh my god does this also make rachel and ramge cousins like thrice removed or something cause OH MY GOD HAHAHA AMAZING) Cause in Emma’s Core Raid, it’s said that a boy watched her get rescued by Baileysh from the river and then the boy disappeared. She mentions this to Zeon and Zeon also says there’s something familiar about her. GUYS. GUYS.

HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa I NEED THIS REVEAL I WANT THESE TWO DORKS TO REALIZE THEY ARE RELATED AND JUST ABSOLUTELY BLOW A GASKET OVER IT Also the so SO obvious foil between the one who chose revenge (Rachel) and the one who gave it up (Zeon). Oh my god. OH MY GOD you could do so much with that. am i giving the writers too much credit

*long eldritch screeching noises*

And it ends there with Athlon thanking Ina for finding him and saving him.

Okay, the start of his Mem Saga was pretty slow. And I don't think we really got enough time to feel anything for the three that died so it felt a bit ??? okay…

Really did love a lot of the lore opening up though, especially with NVF's history and now some more background for Zeon. The story really didn't seem to focus on Athlon too much; he seemed just to be a rock swirling around with all the events happening, so the focus seemed everywhere. As a character, he is like all of Zeon's worst traits done to 200000000% so I can't say I like him too much, but his design is killer. I did like Al Radrun and I can see why Vinity and the other Yellowhoods looked up to him.

But oh my god I need to that young Shu as a skin. HOLY SHIT. Give. I need to figure out how to gif cap that slow motion of him removing the bandages. That was too goddamn sexy.

This MS actually was nothing what I expected, but I did welcome what was in it cause I think EH’s political plots are some of its strongest points. Can't wait to see what else is next.

#exos heroes #roo gaming #screenshot

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true-blue-megamind · 3 years

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FAN THEORY SUPPOSITION SUNDAY: The Warden

SPOILER WARNING! It’s still a thing, and, if you haven’t yet, you still need to watch Megamind. (If you have seen it already, however, you need to see it again. Because it’s awesome.)

Yes, yes, the post is three days late this time. Real life has to take priority and such. So sue me. (Don’t really do that. LOL!)

For that same reason—or more accurately because this week has exhausted me—I will attempt to make this post shorter than usual. We’ll see how that goes. My money is on “not well.” LOL.

Anyway, today we’re going to look at a subject that often divides the Megamind fandom: the Warden and his relationship with Megamind. There are several fan theories—I mean, suppositions—surrounding this, but I’m going to be focusing on a few of the main ones.

The first of these is that the Warden was actually a father figure to Megamind when he was young, allowing him to be raised in jail not out of cruelty or disinterest, but because it was the only way to keep him safe from shadowy government agencies that otherwise would have performed all sorts of experiments on the blue alien. This both accounts for why a child would be allowed to grow up in what is clearly a high-security prison for dangerous adult criminals—something that, admittedly, needs some sort of explanation—and fits with widely accepted sci-fi and comic book tropes. (From Area 51 to mysterious “Men in Black” type organizations, fiction is full of government agencies created to study extraterrestrial life and technology.) Some even go so far as to suggest that the Warden may have tried to adopt Megamind officially, but was blocked from doing so by these same entities. On top of this, such an idea also offers room to re-imagine the Warden as a much more interesting, complex, and sympathetic character. Indeed, there has been some excellent fan fiction written about this pseudo-parental relationship.

Art: Fathers And Sons Day by tabbydragon

There is some evidence to support this. The first is that, although the Warden behaves harshly toward Megamind in the “jail-break” scene near the beginning of the film, Megamind himself seems to be trying to engage in a playful exchange: pranking the older man, wishing him a good morning, and even teasing him. While some say that this is simply Megamind’s personality as well as his determination to always appear indominable, others suggest that, perhaps, the blue man is trying to recapture a lost amiability between himself and the prison Warden. It is possible that, when he was younger and less villainous, Megamind might have exchanged friendly jokes and greetings with the man in charge of the jail he called home. It has even been suggested that the Warden is so hard on the blue man at the beginning of the film not because he hates Megamind, but because Megamind’s life choices have hurt and alienated his father figure. This idea finds some support in the facts that, when Megamind leaves jail to confront Titan, the Warden wished him good luck, and at the end of the movie, that same man seems genuinely happy as he watches the television broadcast of his one-time prisoner being named Defender of Metro City. Finally, there is some evidence from the comics which, although not truly considered canon, as I’ve mentioned before, do offer some material for fan theories. In the “episode” entitled Bad Minion! Bad! Megamind runs into the Warden in a bar, and the latter offers the former advice. There is certainly a somewhat fatherly feel to the scene.

The second theory is exactly the opposite: that the Warden either did not care for or outright disliked the former supervillain. Unfortunately, as fun as the Warden/Father Figure concept is, this second, darker idea has far stronger evidence to support it in the film itself. (Try not to hate me, everyone.) These clues range from the obvious to the subtle, but there are quite a few of them to be found.

During the first scene in which we see Warden interact with Megamind, he doesn’t behave like an angry, disappointed father—at least not a good one. He isn’t merely surly toward Megamind; he is absolutely nasty. The Warden verbally condemns the alien, telling him that he’ll “always be a villain,” and essentially steals what he believes is a gift for the blue man, even taunting him by saying: “I think I’ll keep it!” This hardly seems like the actions of someone who once felt any sort of affection for the extraterrestrial. That same portion of the movie holds another clue as well: the screens monitoring Megamind’s brain activity. Indeed, in original concept art for the film, the system appears both more invasive and more nightmarish. It seems that, far from protecting Megamind, the Warden may have actually allowed him to be experimented upon.

Next, there is the newspaper article at the beginning of the title sequence, which bears the headline “Hometown Boy Makes Bad.” It’s hard to see what the paper says, of course, even if you bother to really notice it, but luckily for us Liz (Demishock) wrote a wonderfully thorough blog post which, among other things, provides a transcript of the “news story.” In it, the Warden is quoted as referring to young Megamind as a born villain as well as abnormal.

You don't know this kid. I've watched the little criminal since he was in diapers. This kid is just a bad seed. I've got experienced, hardened criminals in here who are afraid of him - I mean, have you seen the size of his head?… It's not like he's a normal kid… I mean, have you gotten a good look at his gigantic blue head? I don't know where you come from, but where I come it's just not right.

Granted, there seems to be some truth to what the Warden is saying, as the article also mentions that Megamind, who can hardly have been more than seven years old at the time, has basically been put into solitary confinement for the safety of other prisoners following an unnamed incident, adding that the other inmates “refused to point fingers for fear of retaliation.” (This fits with the fan theory that young Megamind would have had to both fight and develop a fearsome reputation in order to protect himself. You can read more about that in the post How Strong is Megamind?) However, the Warden seems to dwell a lot on the fact that Megamind looks alien, and he displays an obvious dislike for the young boy.

Finally, there is evidence hidden in the school scene, although it’s easy to miss. In an amazing two-part video series, Megamind: A City of Deception. YouTuber The Theorizer illustrates several hidden clues about Megamind’s early life and how it it led him to embrace villainy. (I will very likely write another post going into more detail about that at a later date.) One thing that The Theorizer discovered is a seemingly innocuous detail in the background during the popcorn scene. Take a moment to examine the images below. Look closely at the blackboard and you’ll see a paper cut out of a school bus. Look even more closely at that and you’ll find something odd: the bus is full of crayon-drawn children except for one figure: an adult male, riding in the back of the bus, who looks suspiciously like the Warden as he appears at the beginning of the film.

In a movie where so much attention is given to small things—I mean, seriously, the animation team actually went through the trouble to write a news story for a paper that was on the screen less than ten seconds—this cannot possibly be a coincidence. (You can learn more about the artists’ amazing dedication to detail in my post What’s Hidden in the Animation?) Although it is vaguely possible that Megamind, painfully aware of how much his appearance was despised, chose to draw the Warden’s face instead of his own, most fans believe there is a darker reason for this oddity.

Think about it: the Li’l Gifted School for Li’l Gifted Kids is built close by a jail with a strangely similar name: Metro City Prison for the Criminally Gifted. It’s clearly a small academy, yet the only two known aliens in the city—who, by the way, have extremely different social backgrounds—both just happen to attend there. And now the prison warden appears to be somehow involved with the elementary school? It’s bizarre. Add to this the fact that the young alien adopted by a privileged family—a boy who possessed super-strength and laser vision—seemed inclined to be a bully, (as is made obvious by the kickball scene,) and a disturbing fan theory emerges. Adults realized that Wayne Smith, the child who would eventually become Metro Man, might prove dangerous if left unchecked, and came up with a plan to turn him into a hero instead. Wayne was showered with praise, conditioning him to seek public approval, but a superhero needs a nemesis. The strange-looking, unwanted blue boy who’d already been labeled a criminal would have seemed like the obvious choice. If this is true, then Megamind was purposefully, albeit covertly, groomed to become a supervillain from a young age, and the Warden played a major role in doing that.

So there you have it. Two competing fan theories concerning the Warden’s connection with Megamind. Both have some evidence supporting them, and there are fans who are firmly dedicated to one or the other. Which is true? Did the Warden care for Megamind like a son but distance himself when the boy turned to villainy? Or did he judge and despise Megamind but come around to liking him when he finally realized what sort of person the blue man was deep down? The fact is that those questions can be argued for hours on end. No matter which of these suppositions you prefer, however, the mere fact that even a minor supporting character is complex enough to offer room for this debate speaks to the impressive amount of work and devotion that went into creating this amazing animated film.

#Megamind #Megamind movie #Megamind fan theory #fan theory #fan theories #fanon #Warden #the Warden #connection #relationship #relationships

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maxwell-grant · 3 years

Note

Any thoughts on Sandman Mystery Theatre and Wesley Doods?

I'll probably write more in-depth about Wesley in particular once I'm more acquainted with his history, because I've discovered recently there is much, much more to the JSA's characters than I had initially presumed, and some pretty massive bits of Wes's own history that I can't overlook in a more in-depth post. But regarding Sandman Mystery Theatre, I gotta talk about my history with it specifically.

I picked up the first volume of Sandman Mystery Theatre by complete accident when I was very young. At the time I was specifically looking for Sandman comics because I wanted to do a school project on Neil Gaiman's Sandman, which I knew very little about, and so I picked up at a store Endless Nights and a comic called Sandman Mystery Theatre that, as you can see in the cropped image above, had his name on the cover, so I figured it had to be in the same series (which it kinda is but not really).

While there's older stuff that's tied up in my appreciation of them, this was my first encounter with Pulp Heroes, even when I didn't know what they were, before I discovered The Shadow for real. Ground Zero, as we call it. And it all starts specifically with this page:

The comic had already started off completely unlike anything I'd picked up before from Marvel and DC. It was an urban story with no superheroes or cartoons in sight, instead there were all these regular, wrinkled middle-aged people with warts and sweaters and pudgy noses at the center of it, people that you don't find in superhero stories where the imperfections of humanity are ever shaved off. It was more akin to what I had only experienced through film, but in a comic, and at the time, that was new to me.

And when it was time for the story's big reveal of it's hero, the big wide shot reserved for a Superman power stance or Batman hunched in the rain, it was with this scene: A weird little creep in a trenchcoat and fedora, with a gas mask barely concealing his startled eyes, shocked by the intrusion of the light that ever so blesses The Superhero Moment, squatting in a dirty bathroom with a hand stretched out menacingly towards the horrified woman, stretching towards you, stretching past the panel borders that should lock this ugly little thing in it's place.

I still think of this image as one of the main signifiers as to what I think sets superheroes and pulp heroes apart. Because at the time, this was a revelation. This costume was a revelation in general.

I was never going to find Spider-Man or Wolverine like this, even their dirtier and less dignified moments were still mired in some form of glory. Even in Spider-Man's lowest points he's still expect to rise above them dramatically or at least suffer them dramatically, when Wolverine prowls in the sewers he does so gleaming with power and ferocity and ripped shirts and immortality. And of course, I was never going to look like, or be like, Spider-Man or Wolverine no matter how hard I worked at it.

But this guy? This is a shitty little bug man caught with it's pants down somewhere it was not supposed to be, as terrified of being caught as we would be to find it prowling around. Painfully humanized, despite it's best efforts. He's dressed in a drab suit with a dorky tie, a disheveled coat, and a gas mask and hat. But the thing about “coolness” is that often the best way to make something genuinely cool is to try to make it uncool to begin with. There's nothing super about this guy, but there's something effortlessly cool about him nonetheless, something that doesn't require a bodybuilder's physique or a model's face, something unlike a superhero but just as cool visually if not more so. Anyone could look like this guy.

I could look like this guy.

And not just visually, the other thing that hooked me into Mystery Theatre was it's characterization. Much like the art, it was different than what I was used to from other comics I read. It dealt with it's drama differently, it's deaths had weight and so did the character's reactions to them. It had gangsters and torturers and serial killers and pedophiles and crooked police officers and none of them were going to get chopped to bits by Wolverine or tied up in streetlights by Batman anytime soon. It didn't have supervillains, it had a mother and son as masked murderers and torturers hiding in plain sight even while mutilating their own families. It had grueling torture scenes and it's female protagonist forcing herself to stare at the mutilated corpse of her best friend just so she can spare her family the pain of doing so.

Diane Belmont is great and, again, I had never seen a comic book with this kind of story with a female protagonist so strongly at the forefront of it, and with all these other characters getting their side stories in. It was not about the guy in a costume being the center of everything awesome to happen, because there was hardly anything of the sort happening. "Understated" is the key word here for what made Sandman Mystery Theatre special to me at the time.

Wesley Dodds himself is a schlubby, quiet guy in glasses with a pudgy nose and a round face who makes origami and writes poems, who only really has his gun and mask and wits to tackle problems he is not even particularly well-equipped to handle, but goes out there and does anyway. He moves around quietly but still has to escape desperate situations by the skin of his teeth. He doesn't interrogate people in costume by dangling them off rooftops, he threatens to poison their dog if they don't tell him what he needs to know. He sets up little traps with cans and wire to let him know if a cop is approaching his investigation, and he doesn't take down the Tarantula at the end without assistance nor does he linger around to receive any credit for it.

He is not at all an action hero, nothing about this guy even really indicates he's cut out for this life, but he's determined and compelled and tormented by nightmares that don't allow him to refuse the call, so he makes it happen, and throught that, he makes enough of a difference to shift the scales of life and death to those that cannot rely on others to protect them. Those that can't rely on police or family or superheroes to save them. That's when the eerie little nobody in a fedora and gas mask comes in, inadequate as he may be, still desperately trying to do the right thing.

While I did read some of his Golden Age adventures for context's sake, I don't know much of anything about Wesley's other adventures outside of Mystery Theatre or his costumed superhero phase or history with the JSA and DCU and whatnot, and frankly that stuff is so far removed from my enjoyment of Mystery Theatre that it might as well just be a different character (although I will be checking out out of curiosity).

So yes, Mystery Theatre is great, I sing the praises of Matt Wagner often enough and I definitely should look into the rest of Guy Davis's work, but the main thing about it to me is that it was my first contact with pulp in any of it's forms. Sandman was my first Pulp Hero. If nothing else I'll always appreciate the character for that.

#replies tag #pulp heroes #comic books #matt wagner #sandman #wesley dodds #sandman mystery theatre #guy davis

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subterfugespecialist · 3 years

Text

Stumbled into Anguish Blind

Patton was grateful for his job as a paramedic. Saving people was worth all the stresses to him. But he never thought one of those people would be his own son.

@badthingshappenbingo Prompt: Ambulance Ride

AO3 Link

Pairing: Familial Moxiety, Prinxiety

Warnings: Gun shot wounds and blood but not terribly graphic depictions of them and the shooting takes place off screen, a character in pain, near panic attacks

Word count: 3032

I am not a medical professional. I did do research but please forgive it if it’s not 100% accurate.

While Patton was grateful for the job he had, he couldn't recommend it to just anyone. Being a paramedic was hard, and incredibly stress inducing. To hold the life of someone in your hands was terrifying. But saving peoples lives - that made it all worth it.

Patton had helped and saved many people during his years as a paramedic - but he never once thought he'd have to save his own son.

That day was supposed to be a happy one. After Patton helped Virgil work through his anxiety of driving, he finally got his license. And with this newfound freedom, Virgil had been able to get a job keeping stock at the art store, with perks such as discounts and limited interactions with customers.

Patton was so proud. Virgil was going to go out with his boyfriend, Roman, and use his first paycheck to look at upgrades for his drum-set. Afterwards, Patton was going to treat them to dinner.

He was glad they weren't embarrassed to spend time with him, like some teens would be. He was blessed with such a great pair of kids.

During breakfast, Patton explained what Virgil needed to do with his paycheck at the bank. After repeating the steps a few times, Virgil felt fairly confident. And Roman was going to be with him, anyways. It seemed that boy was scared of nothing - least of all social interactions.

But how were any of them supposed to know there would be an armed robbery that day?

How were they to know that a gun would be shot?

When Patton got the call and heard the location of the incident, he almost shouted in panic.

"Please," he prayed as the ambulance sirens blared. "Not the kids."

He and the other paramedic, Harley, ran up the ramp with the stretcher as police officers yelled for people to move out of the way.

When they ran inside, it took everything Patton had to not collapse on the ground and scream.

Virgil was on the ground, breathing heavily as he clutched onto Roman's arm. Roman was on his knees, holding his jacket against Virgil's chest.

Patton was grateful Roman's favorite color was red. He thought he would actually faint if he had to see more of his sons blood than was already visible.

It wasn't until Patton knelt next to Roman, now able to hear the soft assurances he was whispering to Virgil, did he notice they had arrived.

"I'm sorry," Roman managed to choke out through his tears when he saw Patton.

"No, no. It's not your fault," Patton manage to say, fighting to speak through the the tension building in the back of his throat. He replaced Roman's hand holding the jacket. "Thank you for taking care of him."

"Dad?"

"Hey, baby. I'm right here. Everything's gonna be okay."

Roman pushed himself back and watched as Virgil was lifted on the stretcher.

"You're okay, honey," Patton found himself repeating as they boarded the ambulance. "You're okay. You're okay."

Virgil grasped at his dad's hand, and Patton had to bite his lip to keep from crying when his son whined as he pulled his hand away.

"Sh, sh, it's okay. I need to put the oxygen mask on you. I'm still right here."

Patton placed the oxygen mask as Harley cut Virgil out of his shirt. He felt Virgil's hand grip tightly on his shirt in place of his hand and Patton really wanted to cry right now.

But he wouldn't. He couldn't. This was his most important patient. He had to be professional.

But it was hard to be when Patton could barely hear himself over the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears. He and Harley replaced Roman's jacket with a proper gauze to keep the pressure, and Patton couldn't help it as a few tears escaped his eyes as he watched Virgil's eyes squeeze shut and his teeth grind in pain. Patton wanted to sob every time he placed a bandage and Virgil winced.

"I'm sorry, baby. I'm not trying to hurt you. This is helping, I promise.

It wasn't long after until Virgil's eyes closed and his body went slack.

"Virgil? Virgil! Come on, honey, stay with me," Patton cried as he worked on an IV. Why couldn't he do more? Why was there so little he could do in this ambulance why couldn't he just fix his boy-

"His breathing is destabilizing. We need to give him an endotracheal tube," Harley said as he immediately set to work. Patton's hand moved on autopilot as he helped, and more tears did fall as he watched Virgil's chest move up and down from the tube. That wasn't him breathing it was the machine because the bullet had pierced his baby's lung.

The trip to the trauma center had never felt so long. Had it always been this long? Eventually they were finally able to get the door open and bring Virgil into the trauma center where the waiting doctors took the stretcher from them and rushed Virgil in for emergency surgery.

It wasn't until Virgil was out of sighed did Patton collapse to the ground and finally let himself cry.

His sobs carried down the hallway, and Patton didn't even care that his coworkers were staring at him. The nurses were staring at him. But how could he possibly care when he couldn't be with his son-

"It's going to be okay," Harley said. When had Harley sat next to him? When did he curl into his knees? "You did good. They're going to fix him up in there and everything's going to be okay."

"He's hurt and I can't even help him-"

"Hey, you did help him. No, you weren't able to remove the bullet yourself but you kept your head on straight and got him here in good condition."

Harley pulled Patton up from his knees and held him in a hug. "It's okay, Patton."

Patton rested his forehead on his shoulder. "Thank you. For your help."

"You are very welcome. Come on, now. Let's get you off the floor."

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Patton was, understandably, not on call for the rest of the day. He had paced around the waiting room for the first ten minutes of waiting, but he was exhausted from stress and collapsed into a chair - elbows on his knees and resting his head in his hands.

He didn't look up until he heard frantic footsteps coming down the hall. He panicked for a moment, worried it was a doctor with bad news, but saw it was only Roman.

Patton stood as soon as he saw him and the two met in the middle of the room, Patton holding Roman tightly against him as Roman buried his face into Patton's chest.

"I'm sorry," Roman whispered into Patton's chest. Patton felt tears soak into his shirt. "You trusted me with him and I couldn't even-"

"Hey, no no no," Patton murmured as he led Roman to the chairs. "None of this is in any way your fault."

Roman let out a sob, and Patton pulled him back against him. Roman was a tall boy, but here in Patton's arms he seemed so small.

"And you knew exactly what to do. He was hit in a very critical place, and you saved him from a lot of blood loss by putting pressure on it. I- I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't done that. Roman, you helped him as much as I did in that ambulance."

Roman's tears turned into quiet sniffles, and Patton lifted a hand to gingerly wipe the tear streaks off the boy's face.

"Is he okay?"

Well, no. But he was okay as he could be.

"He's doing fine," Patton assured. "The surgeons are going to take good care of him."

That seemed to finally make Roman relax. He nodded and sat up, wiping his eyes of the last of his tears.

"How did you get here so quickly?" Patton asked.

"I took Virgil's car. He gave me the keys because he didn't want to drive from the bank, since traffic was going to get worse in the afternoon. You know how busy Main gets. I hope you don't mind."

"That's just fine, Roman."

Patton wasn't going to chastise him for driving with only a permit. Not now.

About another hour passed. At one point Roman rested his head on Patton's shoulder, and of course Patton didn't mind. It was nice to have the grounding weight resting on him as he texted family members about what happened.

He felt guilty for not calling, but there was no way he could talk about it and not break into tears again.

The two snapped their heads towards the entrance when they heard footsteps walking down the hall. A doctor walked in and saw them.

She was one of the doctors that took Virgil from him.

"Mr. Sanders?"

Patton nodded.

"The surgery is finished. Everything went fine. He should wake up soon. I can show you to his room."

Patton and Roman quickly stood, and the doctor grimaced.

"And what is your relation?"

It took a moment for the dazed Roman to realize she was talking to him.

"Oh, uh, I'm Roman. I'm his boyfriend."

The doctor, who Patton was now close enough to he could see her name tag read Dr. Taylor, shot him an apologetic look.

"I'm sorry, but only family is permitted in before he wakes up."

Patton saw tears build back into Roman's eyes, but he just nodded.

"Okay. Yeah, sure," he said, mouth trembling as his fists clenched his jeans.

"I'll come get you after he wakes up," Patton said, placing a hand on Roman's shoulder.

Roman nodded again, and Patton gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze before following Dr. Taylor out of the waiting room and down the hallway.

Patton couldn't ignore the sound of Roman crying as they walked away.

"The bullet shattered one of his ribs, but besides that, and the penetration into the chest, thankfully no other major damage occurred," Dr. Taylor said. "We had to give him a chest tube due to some internal bleeding, though the endotracheal tube we were able to replace with an oxygen mask. So he should be able to speak when he wakes up."

Patton had to focus on counting the clicks of his shoes on the tile to keep his breathing steady.

The two stopped in front of a door and Dr. Taylor put her hand on the handle.

"He's on some pretty strong painkillers, but he should still be cognizant when he wakes up. If anything happens, press the red emergency button by the bed and me and the other doctors will come rushing back."

"Thank you," Patton managed to say through the rising dread in his throat. Dr. Taylor opened the door for him.

Patton stood in the entryway until he heard the door click shut behind him. Once the click snapped him out of his trance, he rushed towards the bed and immediately burst into tears.

There was his baby. Virgil's face was pale but thankfully no longer grimaced in pain. His chest was gently rising and falling, no longer due to a tube down his throat. And though Patton had seen similar sights before plenty of times, seeing all the tubes stuck in his baby's body made Patton collapse on the chair by the bedside.

God, what he'd give to take Virgil's place. To take all his pain away. Patton rested his head in his hands, trying yet again to stop his crying.

"Come on," he thought. "You have to be strong. For him."

He took a deep breath, and the pressure in his throat weakened slightly. He could do this. He could be strong.

But all that resolve fell as soon as he heard a soft, weak voice say “Dad?"

"Virgil!" Patton cried as he leaned towards him, being careful to be gentle as he took hold of Virgil's hand. "Hey, sweetie. I'm right here. I'm right by you."

Virgil's eyes blinked as he got used to the lights. A slight grimace of pain was back on his face, but at least he was awake.

Patton barely managed to catch the hand Virgil lifted towards his oxygen mask, being preoccupied with wiping his tears. "No, kiddo. You need that."

Virgil's hand dropped against the crisp bed sheets. Virgil looked at his hospital bed and all the tubes stuck in him, and Patton's heart shattered as he started crying.

"Shit," Virgil hissed as he lifted his arm with his IV.

"You know, we were just leaving when they ran in," Virgil said, a pained smile on his face as he laughed, though there was no humor in it. "If I hadn't been such a chickenshit and just went in when we got there instead of needing a pep talk from Roman to go into a bank then I wouldn't have-"

"Honey, deep breaths," Patton said as he stood and very gently wrapped his arms around Virgil, holding him as tight as he could without fear of hurting him. "Do not blame yourself." Matching tears fell down Patton's cheeks. "None of this was your fault. There was no way you could have known this would happen. I will not let you continue to beat yourself up about this, understand?"

Though Patton could feel tears falling onto his shoulder, Virgil nodded.

"I'm so glad you're okay," Patton whispered. "I love you so much, you know that?"

"I love you, too, Dad."

There was nothing Patton wanted to do less than let Virgil go, but he could imagine the hug couldn't be the most comfortable for him. So after placing a kiss to the top of Virgil’s head he sat back down, but grabbed hold of Virgil's hand again.

"At least I don't have to run the mile in gym anymore," Virgil said after a beat.

Patton started laughing. It was hardly from the joke, but more so from the relief that was washing over him that yes, Virgil was hurt, but he would be okay. He was awake and joking. Virgil started giggling along with his father, and once they would stop, one could start laughing again and the cycle started all over.

Eventually, they both calmed down.

"No, I suppose you don't," Patton smiled. "I have yet to contact the school. But I'm sure they will understand your... predicament. And I'm sure your friends will be more than happy to help you with your notes.”

Virgil's smile suddenly dropped and his eye's widened as he jolted up, wincing from pain but not retreating.

"Roman. What happened to Roman??"

"Roman is fine," Patton assured. "He's in the waiting room right now."

Virgil visibly relaxed and sank back against the bed.

"Would you like me to go get him? He's anxious to see you."

"In... in a minute," Virgil said as he closed his eyes. "I want to see him, really, but you know he can be..."

"Enthusiastic?"

"Loud."

Patton chuckled. "Okay, baby. Just tell me when.'

One of the nurses walked in, and he was delighted to see that Virgil was awake. While another nurse came in to talk to Patton about Virgil's road to recovery, the first nurse checked some vitals, seemed satisfied, then gave Virgil a bit more painkillers. The painkillers seemed to help Virgil's mood, and he sent Patton to fetch Roman.

Roman's head was in his hands when Patton walked in. He looked up as Patton walked towards him, and when Patton nodded, he bolted out of the chair down the hallway. Patton had to hurry to catch up.

After opening the door for roman, roman rushed to Virgil's bedside, and Patton came in to see Roman pressing kisses all over Virgil's face while crying.

"Oh, Virgil, thank God you're okay," Roman said, openly crying as he placed his hands on Virgil's cheeks. "Oh, sweetheart, darling, love, I was so worried about you-"

Patton didn't even listen to the rest of what Roman said - He had to keep himself from laughing at the two of them. Roman was waxing poetic while Virgil sent mortified glances to his dad. But Patton thought it was pretty adorable, to see a teenager talk that way.

"Yes, I'm fine," Virgil said as he made weak attempts to push Roman off him. "I'm happy to see you but please stop, you drama queen."

Roman laughed and pressed one more kiss to Virgil's cheek before stepping away.

Roman didn't even seem embarrassed as he turned back towards Patton with a large grin. He just put a chair right next to Patton's and promptly sat to take Virgil's hand.

"Remus wants to come see you, too," Roman said as Patton went to sit next to him. "He's on his way with Janus. And he already asked if he could keep the bullet."

"Nope. If anyone gets to keep the bullet, it's me."

Patton shot him a look as he sat next to Roman.

"What?" Virgil asked. "It'd be badass."

"Okay. I excused the first swear word, but you are very much nearing the swear jar again, mister."

Patton was going for stern, but he just couldn't stop smiling. And he wasn't really upset - not when he got Virgil to smile.

"Remus may fight you for it," Roman continued.

"He can't fight me. I was shot."

"I don't think that'd stop him."

"True. He did throw Jason down a flight of stairs even after he broke his leg."

"He did what?" Patton asked. Virgil smirked at the horrified look on his face. "Why would he do that?"

"He was making fun of Janus.”

While Patton didn't dislike Remus, and he was glad Virgil had such a good group of friends, he was very happy Virgil was dating Roman and not his twin.

"And don't let him know I told you this, but he was really worried about you."

"Aw. I knew he loved me."

Virgil looked at his dad with a large grin on his face. And seeing Virgil smile again, really smile, well, that was enough to let Patton know that everything was going to be okay.

Prompts are open for both Bad Things Happen Bingo and general prompts :)

#sanders sides #moxiety #familial moxiety #prinxiety #virgil sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #my writing #virgil #patton #roman #virgil fic #roman fic #patton fic

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maneskinrollercoaster · 3 years

Text

~ And All That For a Lighter ~

Pairing: Damiano David x Naomi (fictional character)

Word count: 3035

Warnings: none

Summary: Naomi meets Damiano in a café for the first time.

Naomi entered the café all soaked, her cheeks red from running and her hair messy and wet from the rain. It was pouring outside which was the thing she despised the most. Surprisingly tho she felt good. Fresh. She loved walking around Rome in the morning and for the first time in her life she admired this rainy weather. Little drops of water flowed over her cheek. Her life was a big mess and you could say she needed something new.

When a month ago she found her boyfriend cheating with her best friend she felt like her whole life collapsed. That’s when she decided to change something. Start a new life. She started admiring things she’s never liked before, she started dressing differently, she became more confident in her own body. She even started working out which was the most unexpected thing since physical education was her least favorite subject in high school.

Naomi always thought love was the most essential part of everyone’s life, but a sight of Alessandro having fun in their bed with Sofia made her hate love more than anything. She decided to move on and live life completely and only for herself.

- Buongiorno Joey - she said reaching the bartender standing behind the counter.

- Buongiorno piccola, what can I get for you?

- One espresso please, and one brownie - the bartender nodded and started preparing her order.

She decided to sit down since she would probably spend a lot of time working on her laptop and enjoying this rainy morning. The inside of café was warm and welcoming, comfortable couches, puffy pillows and a lot of plants. She visited this café every day for the past two weeks and she found herself enjoying this place maybe even more than her new flat.

Naomi went to sit in the corner on a cozy red couch. She took off her soaked jacket and pulled out her laptop with a couple of notebooks. She was a student of economy and since she had to find herself some more things to do she decided to actually try harder to have a better degree at her college. She wasn’t so fond of the direction she chose but she knew it’s gonna bring her a prosperous life. In fact her favorite thing in the world was art. She started painting when she was 8 years old. Since then she really enjoyed staying all day alone in her room painting everything she could, from beautiful portraits to mesmerizing landscapes. She had a huge talent but she was too afraid to chase her dreams.

When she met Alessandro he quickly bashed her ideas of becoming a professional painter, saying that it’s not something she will build her life on and that she will be only wasting her time. She was mad at him for a couple of days but then she quit her painting dream and chose economy for her main subject.

- Ecco a te, one coffee and one brownie - said Joey bringing her order to the table and putting it right in front of her.

- Grazie mille - Naomi answered and smiled to him.

She took a sip of coffee and smiled. It was delicious. That was another reason why she kept coming back here every day. They made the best coffee she’s ever drunk.

Two hours passed and Naomi was still working on her assignment she was supposed to give in till next Monday. It was about lunch time so she decided she will pack her things in an hour and she will go find a place to eat something. She took the last sip of the coffee and finished her first task when someone pulled her out of her little trans.

- Ah shit! I’m all wet! - she heard someone saying and moment later she saw a guy reaching the bartender.

He was tall and had slightly longer, dark brown hair. She could only see his profile but only that was enough for her to admit that he was really handsome. He was wearing black trousers, black Dr. Martens, white tank top and an oversized black jacket. He looked good and Naomi couldn’t take her eyes off of him.

- Damiano! It’s so good to see you man! - Joey said and shook hands with the new guy.

Damiano. The name really suit him. Naomi didn’t take her eyes off him even once.

- Ciao, ciao, Joey! - his voice was attractive as well. Raspy and deep but really calm.

Naomi didn’t know what was happening. Usually she didn’t pay attention to any guys after Alessandro but he was different. He looked edgy and bold but he seemed nice too. She was staring at him. And not in a polite way. She was literally eyeing him from up and down and she didn’t even realize.

- Give me an espresso man, I’m so tired, I just woke up. Yesterday we had so much fun. Victoria came up with this new idea of the song and we all stayed up late till 4 am trying to figure out how to pull it up together. - Damiano said.

So he’s into music. Nice. Naomi was still staring at him so rudely but she didn’t care at this point. Music is also art - she thought and smiled slightly not letting go of his person.

- Typical you, Dam, you’ve never slept a full night, did you? - Joey said and they both laughed.

- Do you have a lighter maybe? I forgot mine. - Damiano said and started searching his pockets.

- I don’t man, sorry. Let me make your order. Anything else for you?

- No, no that’s all. I’m gonna go search for a lighter and I’ll be back.

He turned around searching for people but at this time the café was empty. Only Naomi sitting in the corner. He started walking towards her. Oh shit, he’s coming here, stop staring, stop staring, stop staring - Naomi thought and looked at her laptop trying to pretend that’s she didn’t just checked him out for 10 minutes straight.

- Scusi, I’m.. - he reached her table and started speaking but stopped when she looked at him. - I’m sorry to interrupt but do you have a lighter maybe? - he said after a second.

- No, I’m sorry. I don’t smoke. - Naomi blushed and smiled lightly.

- Okey, grazie. - he smiled and started walking away.

- But there’s a store at the corner, I think they might have some. - Naomi said

- Grazie, grazie. - he laughed slightly and waved at her.

Naomi went back to her tasks still blushing not knowing why. 15 minutes passed and Damiano entered the café again carrying two bags. He came up to Naomi smiling.

- I uh.. Sorry to interrupt again but.. Do you want to maybe eat lunch with me? I just thought that it’s lunch time and you’re sitting here alone and since you helped me with the lighter.. - he couldn’t stop speaking and Naomi blushed again laughing. He looked a bit nervous.

- Of course, I would love to eat lunch with you. - she said interrupting him.

- I’m Damiano - he said pulling out his hand.

- Naomi - she said and grabbed his hand to shake it but he turned it and kissed the top of her palm.

She felt something weird in her stomach, like butterflies but she pushed them aside and only smiled to him. Damiano sat on the couch opposite Naomi and put two bags on the table.

- I didn’t know what you like, obviously because I don’t know you, yeah very clever Dam, whatever.. - he started speaking and Naomi couldn’t stop but laugh at him loudly

- Don’t worry, I’m not a peaky eater - she said sending him a reassuring smile.

- Alright, well, I ordered pasta with shrimps and some pesto and cherry tomatoes. - he said taking out the box with food from the bag. - I also got you a cherry smoothie but we can switch if you’d like.

- Wow, and that all for a lighter? You really didn’t have to. But thank you so much, I was about to go for lunch anyways. - she said grabbing the box that he handed her.

- Yes well, you’re really beautiful.. I mean, no.. I mean you are beautiful but I just wanted to say that you’re really nice and yeah I don’t know I just thought you might like to eat something.. Not that you look like you’re starving but yeah..

- Heyyy, thank you, really, that’s so nice of you. - she said smiling widely.

Naomi took the first bite of her pasta and it was delicious. She remembered her grandmother cooking shrimps every Saturday and all her family gathering together for a family dinner in the garden. It tasted just the same.

They ate everything and after two hours of talking and laughing and getting to know each other it was time for Joey to close the café. Naomi stood up and packed her things, said goodbye to Joey and together with Damiano they stepped out of the café. It stopped raining and instead there was a full sun and a fresh breeze.

- So what are you gonna do now? - he asked standing in front of her.

- Umm.. I think I’m just gonna go back to my flat, make myself some snacks and watch Netflix till I fall asleep - Naomi laughed.

- Alright well, do you mind if I walk you home? - Damiano asked steeping a bit closer to her.

- Sure, why not, we can take a walk.

That day Damiano walked Naomi to her house and they exchanged numbers, planning to meet again. He kissed her cheek for goodbye and squeezed her hand and Naomi has never felt like that in a long time. She was happy and Damiano, even tho she met him today, made her feel really good. Naomi couldn’t sleep that night still thinking of him and wondering why she felt so different around him.

*3 months later*

- What do you mean you don’t like Star Wars! - Damiano shouted to Naomi while they both walked towards the beach where they were supposed to watch sunset and have a little picnic.

Since the day they met they spent almost every day together. Damiano surprised her with multiple occasions to go out together, either for lunch or dinner or even breakfast when he woke up earlier than usual. He found himself falling for her. In fact he realized he fell for her the day he first laid his eyes on her. He found her funny, spontaneous and really kind and caring. When she told him about her painting dream he was so shocked she gave up, that he argued with her till he convinced her to chase the dream even if she thought it was too late. Naomi really enjoyed his company, he made her feel really happy and safe and most importantly - loved. She knew she developed some feelings and she didn’t want to admit it but at the back of her head she knew she fell in love. He made her laugh and supported her when she was having bad moments. He became her best friend at some point. Both of them were taking things a bit slower tho, they were both afraid, broken-hearted after rough ended relationships.

- I just don’t, I don’t understand how they made so many movies out of such a lame plot. - she said defending herself.

- How can you even say that! The plot is amazing! The space action scenes, come on! - he said offended but smiling.

- Yeah I just don’t see the point of filming it, that’s all.

- I don’t know how Victoria can still be friends with you, we’re both huge fans of Star Wars! You’re lucky I like you - Damiano started laughing and put his arm around Naomi’s shoulders.

She got to meet Victoria, Ethan and Thomas. Bassist, drummer and guitarist of their band Måneskin. Naomi wasn’t really into music so she didn’t really know them and didn’t know they’re pretty known here in Italy. Victoria was the kindest person Naomi could ever see. When her and Damiano stepped into the studio where they were recording, Vic was the first to reach out to her. She hugged her tightly and was clearly really happy to meet her. She then introduced Thomas and Ethan to her. Thomas started joking around that Damiano finally found himself a girlfriend and Ethan was really polite, he kissed Naomi’s hand and hugged her too, smiling really kindly. They were all so nice. They started inviting her over for dinners or just to hang out by the pool. She also listened to them playing and recording their new songs. Damiano told them that she wanted to be a painter and they all started reassuring her even more, that chasing her dream is the best thing for her and that she should never give up. Naomi really felt like she finally found her place.

Naomi and Damiano reached the beach, they put the blanket on the sand, put out all the food from the basket and they sat opposite each other. They were both smiling widely and chatting about everything. They drank some wine, ate some pasta and then they sat next to each other admiring the sunset.

- I really like you, you know? - Damiano said glancing at Naomi. - And I mean, I like you a lot. You’re really an amazing person with so much talent and you’re just so caring and loving. You really make me happy. - he said not taking his eyes off of her.

- Dami.. - Naomi started but she was interrupted.

- What I want to say is.. - he took her hands - I fell in love with you Naomi. I fell for you hard and I’m pretty sure since the day I saw you at that café. I care about you so much and any time with you is my favorite time in the world. So if you want to.. We could try, you know.. Being together, like, in a relationship. - he said in one breathe.

Naomi was speechless, her stomach was squeezing and she felt her cheeks turning red. She never would have though that someone will make her feel like this again. She knew that he cares for her but she didn’t know that he would feel the same way she felt about him.

- Dami.. Of course I do want to try, you make me the happiest, and honestly I didn’t know you feel the same way, that’s why I didn’t say anything. And also because.. - Naomi wanted to tell him about Alessandro but she was scared that Damiano will back off, saying that he will give her time.

- What’s wrong, bella? - he said gently squeezing her hand.

- I was in a relationship before. His name was Alessandro and we met before I started college. We were together for 3 years and everything was going just fine. But then.. One day when I came back home earlier than usual I found him cheating with my best friend, Sofia. Since then I just decided to not get into any relationship and live only for myself because I was too afraid to get hurt again - Naomi said looking down at their intertwined hands.

- Oh bella.. - Damiano pulled her into a tight hug.

He stroked her back and her hair and he was whispering to her ear. A single tear fell down her cheek but not because she was hurt but because of how gentle and caring Damiano was. He hugged her and made her feel better and she couldn’t find herself with anyone else right now than with him. He pulled away, looked into her eyes and smiled slightly.

- I was in a relationship too a while ago. It turned out we didn’t match and our life goals and perspectives were so different that we decided to end things. Maybe it wasn��t as harsh as your breakup but I felt awful for at least a month. I didn’t go out of my room and I lost all will to write music. Victoria brought me food every day but I just didn’t want to eat. But it all passed.. Listen, if you need more time it’s all good, I’ll give you space and I’ll wait till you’re ready.

Naomi was silent for a couple of seconds. In her head there was a battle. She wanted to let go of bad memories and trust Damiano completely, start a relationship with him, but on the other hand she was scared to get hurt again.

- No Dami. I don’t need time, I know what I want and I know how you make me feel and that’s why I want to try. - Naomi said hugging him tightly.

She knew she just overcame her fear and she felt free. Like a huge stone fell off of her heart. She felt amazing and she wanted to live this moment as long as she could. Damiano pulled away and cupped her cheek with his hand. He pulled her closer and she could feel his breath on her face. Slowly, but slightly Damiano leaned in and brushed his lips against hers. Naomi touched his cheek and pulled him even closer. And then they both intertwined their lips in a gentle, yet passionate kiss.

Naomi felt her stomach squeezing when Damiano put his hand on her back. It was their first kiss and the sunset was almost turning into the night. They pulled away after seconds and smiled widely at each other.

- I promise, I’ll always take care of you. - Damiano said leaning his forehead against hers.

- Always. - Naomi said grabbing his hand and intertwining their fingers together.

That’s when they both knew that they found soulmates in each other.

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