#comprehend danger and personal responsibility yet? also yes

[violentdevotion]

my opinion on kids and the child hating discourse is sometimes my nephews and nieces are really loud while im napping and wake me up and it annoys me and they bug me while I'm doing something and want silence and they've broken so many of my things and they come into my room first thing in the morning and children crying in transport on long journeys are annoying but sometimes when I'm in a depressive spiral and don't want to leave my room someone will come in to talk to me and they compliment me when I do the most basic thing in the world because its impressive to them and they dedicate their arts and crafts to me and they'd come into my room because they were thinking of me first thing in the morning and they wanted to say hi and I remember that's the most basic form of love and little kids in the store i work at will light up when you compliment their clothes and are the most excited people in the world when you give them the reciept and also sitting in a cramped plane or bus for hours is uncomfortable and painful and the only reason I don't cry is because I have headphones a book and a sense of shame

[yuikomorii]

After thinking more deeply about it, people shouldn’t get mad when seeing the majority shipping AyaYui because they are the most perfect for each other…not always in the good way. They are both obsessive weirdos that are unable to communicate properly and end up doing so much dumb shit that not only hurts them but also the ones around them.

Now I’m not saying they are the most problematic characters in the game, but they just are such menaces for whoever is connected to them. They be wondering why Yui wouldn’t make such a good couple with Subaru and Azusa but the reason is that they’re exactly too soft for her. They just want a kind and motherly girl but Yui keeps putting them in uncomfortable situations, doesn’t respect their boundaries and is unable to comprehend their introversion. Ik she was in a dangerous situation at first but that’s over after the second game, isn’t it? They started dating so if that’s what she truly wanted, she has to take responsibility for that and bring her brain to work.

Now about Mr. Yours Truly, he wasn’t irredeemably bad in the first game but he was such an asshole, let’s be frank. After the first game, Yui started treating him poorly or, again , not paying attention to whatever he was going through but I just couldn’t feel bad for him. They both fucked eachother up so bad but in an equal way so I can’t say any of them is better than the other, like some of their individual fans do. I’m not saying this about the Admin but some Yui and Ayato stans must actually hate the characters and only love their fanon version of them. Just because they forgive their abusers and are friendly doesn’t make them the kindest character anyone has ever seen. They did too many bad things to be considered the kindest and I’m not gonna follow the “they went insane” excuse because I really don’t care. All characters are insane and broken but not all of them did as much shit as they did.

I’m not justifying anything from that dick but e.g. when Karlheinz commits a genocide to make ghouls, he is said to have abused his powers and is evil but when Yui commits a genocide because her cute Ayato-kun 〜 died and kills all living things on both worlds, that’s seen as romantic? Like that’s extremely evil and selfish of her too. Or when others complain about the vampires being possessive and jealous, when Yui is the same person that stabbed Shu and threw him in the dungeon afterwards out of jealousy and she also paralysed Ayato then used him as her pleasure slave only because he drank blood from other chicks. Again, I’m not excusing them but she’s just as worse when triggered enough. All the fanwars are stupid when the game only has characters that wouldn’t be perceived as mentally sane or innocent angels in real life.

// Uuh… you kinda worded it a bit too harshly but I do get where you come from.

The thing is Yui, Ayato, Azusa, Subaru and Yuma are characters described by Rejet as either pure or kind-hearted, yet this doesn’t mean they necessarily have to be saints sent from above 24/7. Good people can react horribly under stress, pressure or shock. Yes, they can do wrong stuff and treat others badly as a result, but this doesn’t mean they have a bad soul. Trauma is not the same from person to person and everyone reacts to it differently. It can turn good people into monsters depending on the severity of the circumstances and some might never come back to their original nature. And, even if they do, this will not excuse their actions, but as long as they try to change for the better and take accountability, I believe they deserve a second chance.

Rejet makes Yui go mad in some endings and After stories to demonstrate that she is capable of doing something as awful as the Diaboys if an event hits her hard enough, just like it did to them. And, to be honest, that's realistic. Of course, not the story, but the fact that every person, no matter how strong, has a breaking point.

Speaking of the genocide committed by Yui, the reason why it’s considered romantic is not the deed itself, but the fact Yui created an Ayato ghoul after exterminating everything, only because she wanted to be killed by the man she loved. I think this was the only time Yui seriously used her brain, and the fact she was crazy when doing that, makes it hilarious.

As for the Yandere endings, Yui does that to Shu in MB, if I recall correctly but it was so unexpected because she really didn’t get any vibes throughout the route, therefore I guess it was just random writing. In Ayato’s route, the obsessive tendencies were obvious when she started looking through Ayato’s swimsuit magazines and tried measuring her boobs to the ones of those girls. I was pretty sure she would pull a possessive move on him later on, lol.

Truth be told, I don't mind that in fictional couples as long as they're both obsessed with each other and it's not one-sided. Besides, it’s funny how even Ruki called Yui “Ayato obsessed” in CL.

As a DL fan, I understand that no character is a total green flag because they all display toxic behavior in regular circumstances, no matter if intentional or not. Nonetheless, that shouldn’t stop us from loving them. Some people prefer the softer aspects of DL, while others prefer the darker, but keep in mind that those who prefer talking well about their favs don't want to be always reminded of all the bad things they did, especially if those characters regret them or weren't in the best mental state at the time.

[mariacallous]

(JTA) — It was a slow trickle, each long press of the finger and ensuing quick tap was days and sometimes weeks apart (it’s hard to comprehend that a whole month has passed since Oct. 7), but I am here to tell you that I — a former social media manager — have removed each and every social media app from my phone.

In fact, as I was writing this very esssay, I realized I still had Threads downloaded, opened it for a minute, saw a Thread that said “Zionism is antisemitism,” and promptly deleted that, too.

I have zero desire to restore a single one of them.

What happened to me has probably happened to you, too. I saw a Tweet, a TikTok, an Instagram Story that filled me with such fury and indignation that I spent hours — sometimes days — formulating and reformulating an epic, fact-based, emotionally charged, imagined response. Imagined, of course, because I knew I’d never post it. I’ve seen so many celebrities and random acquaintances do such utterly embarrassing and harmful and reputation-destroying things in the last weeks to even dare to try.

And to be clear: I would try if I thought I could change someone’s mind and force them to see my humanity, but beyond the small, intimate, personal conversations that I can have off the apps, I feel like these enraged indignant responses only seem to silo people further.

I’ve worked in social media since 2014 — in the Jewish realm of social media, specifically. That means I’ve seen a lot of awfulness, gas chamber memes, overt antisemitism and Islamophobia. I’ve personally been told many times to go back where I came from (which, yes, is Israel, and that feels grimly funny now). Yet I’ve also believed in its power to heal, to make people feel seen, to energize activism, to educate.

I still believe that — kind of? But I’ve also never seen it this awful, this polarizing, this … honestly, unhinged. An unscientific poll of people I know seems to indicate the same thing: Social media is the worst it’s ever been, maybe because the Israel/Palestine conversation has always been so impossibly polarizing.

People are so stuck in their “side” and binary that they’re willing to share anything — without fact-checking, without making sure they’re not getting in bed with people whose worldview is dangerous, without asking themselves for a small second, wait, is this Islamophobic? Antisemitic? Completely detached from reality? Without wondering if they sound like a conspiracy theorist, or if they’re just being cruel for cruelty’s sake.

And the amount of words wasted on misinformation and meanness doesn’t even compare to the number of words some people insist on putting into other people’s mouths (or keyboards, rather) when their statement doesn’t 100% pass whatever standards they’ve arbitrarily decided it must. Beyond Israel and Palestine, we’ve been tearing ourselves apart inside our Jewish community, and that also breaks my heart.

I understand the deep grief and rage behind most posts. I’ve been enraged and grieving myself. I’ve been scared too: Of the growing antisemitism. Of the people who tell me that I and my family, because we were born in Israel, can’t be innocent civilians, that we all deserve the horrors of Oct. 7 to befall on us.

I’ve also been scared for the life of every innocent person lost and about to be lost. Around 1,200 Israelis killed, 300 kidnapped, over 10,000 Palestinian lives believed to have been taken, all unfathomable numbers. And I’ve been scared about the cycle of rage and violence and siloed indignation that removes the humanity of a whole swath of people. Because I do believe that that’s part of what got us here. And I keep seeing it evinced, over and over again, on social media.

I am — unlike many “experts” newly minted by numbers of followers or magnitude of chutzpah — not an expert of Middle Eastern politics, despite being Israeli and working in Jewish media for almost a decade. I know a lot, but I am not a politician or historian. And yet, to the extent I believe that there is a solution to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, I believe that it has to be one that takes into account the inherent humanity of all those involved. I believe that it will be human and imperfect.

I’m awed by the people who are still managing to use social media for good right now, the little spots of light — people who parse through history and reality with wisdom and empathy, well-educated veteran observers of Israel and Palestine, academics, journalists, fierce activists, who, through immense pain, still manage to retain their humanity.

Yet for me, I’ve realized being on social media is doing more harm than good. It’s keeping me further away from solutions and useful action, and closer to rage and fear. So for now, I can’t stay there.

[silverstarfics]

You didn’t think I was going to miss Gordon’s day of @thunder-pride did you? 

AO3 link

When the realisation initially struck Gordon, Scott was the only other person present. Technically Brains and Grandma were also on the island but had squirreled themselves away in various evil lairs – the kitchen in Grandma’s case and the lab for Brains – and so didn’t count.

Scott was flopped across a sun lounger, sulking but pretending not to be because Virgil had grounded him regardless of his protests that a twisted ankle was really not that bad. Gordon floated on his back in the pool, steadily being blinded by sunshine despite his shades. It was rare for the two them to hang out without Virgil or Alan around and so he had somehow forgotten just how terrible Scott’s jokes could be. Still, it was sort of nice. At least up until Gordon bolted upright and nearly inhaled a lungful of chlorinated water.

“Oh my god.”

Scott lowered his collection of holograms then, apparently satisfied that his younger brother wasn’t undergoing yet another near-death experience, returned to the data packet. Gordon sidled up to the pool edge, waiting expectantly with a couple of dramatic sighs until Scott finally abandoned the projector to look at him.

“What?”

Gordon gestured vaguely at himself – pineapple-shaped sunglasses and all. “I never officially came out. I just started dating people of every gender and let everyone figure it out.”

There was a slight pause. It was testament to how used Scott was to these antics when he didn’t question the seemingly random subject and instead just rolled with it. He eyed Gordon warily.

“So?”

“So, I feel like I missed out.”

Gordon hoisted himself a little higher to prop his elbows on the poolside and balance his chin in his hands with a sunny smile.

“Scotty,” he announced grandly, “I’m pan.”

“Hi Pan,” Scott replied without hesitation. “I’m Scott.”

It took an entire five seconds to comprehend this response.

Gordon’s eyes grew as wide as saucers. “Did you just…?”

“Oh, I did.”

“That was terrible.”

“It was brilliant.”

“No. Just no.”

Scott grinned. “Oh, c’mon. You have to admit it was funny.” He pinched his fingers to demonstrate. “Just a little.”

Gordon lofted himself fully onto the poolside and lounged over the tiles, basking in the sun like some sort of… well, he’d say lizard but the thought sent a chill down his spine. What else liked sunlight? Cats, right? Okay, he was going with a cat comparison. He crossed his arms beneath his head and frowned up at the cloudless blue sky. It was approaching late afternoon but it was still hot enough for extended exposure to the sun to be dangerous.

Anyway. Back to the main point.

“I could have thrown a party or something,” he declared mournfully.

Scott didn’t even try to keep the amusement out of his voice. “I can guarantee that wouldn’t have ended well. Your parties never do.”

“Lies and slander.”

“Gordon, I’ve bailed you out twice because of your parties.”

This was actually a valid point.

Gordon flapped a hand at him. “Shh. That’s not the issue here, anyway.” He draped an arm across his face and heaved a great sigh. “Aw man, I can’t believe I missed my chance to have a grand revelation. It could have been like one of those dumb gender reveal parties but with my pride colours. Like, I don’t know, confetti balloons or something. Or fireworks. Hey, do you think Virgil will make me fireworks? It could be a vibe. We could drag John down from his tin can for once.”

“Careful,” Scott teased with a knowing look at the seemingly innocent holoprojector. “You never know who’s listening.”

Gordon winced. Insulting Five within Johnny’s earshot never ended well. He could still remember the humiliation of the last revenge he’d been dealt.

“Is this genuinely bothering you? Do you actually feel like you missed out?”

“Nah. Well. I don’t know. Yes? No.” Gordon propped himself on an elbow to gauge Scott’s reaction. “If I say yes, do I get to throw a party?”

“No.”

“You’re so boring.” It was probably a bad idea to call Scott – known adrenaline junkie and idiot – boring to his face. “Do not try to prove me wrong while your ankle’s still busted.”

“It’s not busted,” Scott protested. “It’s just… mildly bruised.”

“Twisted.”

“Only slightly.”

As the person who’d had to help Scott limp into Two’s medbay, Gordon could confirm that this was, in fact, a complete and utter lie. It was badly twisted at best and treading on the coattails of a sprain at worst. Not that Scott seemed to care, hence why Gordon was here, keeping an eye on him – ahem, babysitting – rather than giving Virgil a hand over in… wherever the hell Virg currently was.

Their conversation was temporarily shelved by the buzz of the projector as Alan’s holo appeared, clearly running low on energy reserves after three callouts in seven hours. He looked so dead on his feet that Gordon almost felt sorry for him. Almost. This was the same kid who’d put fake lizards in his bed last week and he planned to hold a grudge for another month at least.

“My ETA’s…” Alan paused to yawn. “I don’t even know anymore. Twenty minutes? Unless any other assholes decide to pilot their ships into areas that are no fly zones for a reason.”

“Damn, Allie,” Gordon whistled in unison with Scott’s chiding, “Language, Alan.”

Alan made a vague, growly sound not unlike Virgil before coffee. “Whatever. Can we get pizza tonight? I need a nap and carbs.”

Gordon let out a loud laugh and stuck up a hand in the hopes that his thumbs-up was within range of the projector.

“Preach, bro.” He caught Scott’s eye. “You know, Kayo’s due back around half-six. We could ask her to pick some up on her way.”

“Don’t get Hawaiian,” Alan ordered instantly. “Or at least get some other normal pizzas too which haven’t been contaminated by fruit. Who puts fruit on a pizza? It’s just weird, Gordo.”

Gordon pushed himself fully upright and shuffled within sight. “Hey, Alan? Remind me what a tomato is classed as?”

“We’ll get a selection of pizzas,” Scott interjected smoothly before they could fall into an actual squabble. He leaned forwards slightly to prop his elbow on Gordon’s head, ignoring all muttered protests, a silent command for Gordon to stop antagonising our brother. “Twenty minutes, yeah?”

“Uh huh.” Alan stifled another yawn. “Oh, by the way, how’s your ankle?”

Scott raised a brow. “Are you asking or is this John’s question?”

“John-” the brother in question said, materialising beside Alan’s holo, “-is sick of being snapped at whenever he enquires, so yes, it is my question. Gordon, has he done anything dumb?”

Gordon took a moment to process. “Huh. It is weird to be asked that. Normally I’m the one doing dumb stuff. This is a whole role reversal. Shockingly, no, he’s actually behaved. For once.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Scott cut in. “This is a weird role reversal.”

Kayo’s holo appeared around the same time as Virgil’s, catching the tail end of their conversation.

“What’s a weird role reversal?” Virgil queried.

Gordon jerked a thumb over his shoulder at Scott. “Being responsible for this dumbass.”

“Thanks,” Scott deadpanned. “I’m not paying for your monstrosity of a pizza anymore.”

Gordon dropped his head back against the lounger with another sigh. “So many haters. Kayo, back me up – pineapple on pizza?”

“Fantastic,” Kayo confirmed. “Is this a request?”

“Please?” Alan made puppy-dog eyes which were somehow even more effective when paired with obvious exhaustion. “Can you get pepperoni?”

“Wait. Guys. You’re all here, so I can make my announcement.” Gordon paused for dramatic effect. “I’m pansexual.”

There was a lengthy silence.

“Um, Gords?” Alan ventured. “We already know. Like, we’ve known for years. Was it supposed to be a secret?”

Kayo glanced away to hide her smirk. “He sure as hell didn’t keep it secret last time we went to the mainland. It’s very public knowledge to everyone present at a certain club in-”

“Okay,” Gordon interrupted. “Great. Thanks for that, Kay. Anyway, I never officially came out, so I’m doing it now. Feel free to bring drinks and presents and confetti and maybe invite some friends over and I’ll make a playlist and-”

Scott reached over and flicked him on the forehead. “No parties.”

“Dude.”

“Congrats, Gordon,” Virgil said before chaos could unfold. “We’re all very proud of you.”

“Aw. This is nice. Thanks, guys.” Gordon twisted to beam up at Scott. “Hey Scooter? You know how you could show your support?”

“No, Gordon,” Scott sighed in a long-suffering voice. “I’m not throwing you a party.”

“Ah, dang it. Worth a try.”

[bippot]

The Monarch Hotel - Chapter 10: Farmville

Story Summary -> How many times does Vigilante need to get injured before Harcourt finally gives in and hires a medic to help out with the squad's injuries? Far too many times, that's how many.

When it's uncovered that a fancy hotel is linked to, not only what's left of the legion of butterflies, but also a string of weird deaths and missing persons reports, the only two for the job are lovesick Adrian and the newbie.

Chapter 10: Farmville Summary -> Though he may look like a dum dum, Adrian actually has a gut feeling about the amount of the danger they're in. They install some new gadgets and come to realise that the whole team, including Emilia, is aware of the new step they've taken in their relationship.

Tags -> Canon-Typical Violence, Gun Violence, Blood and Injury, Undercover as a Couple, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Summer Vacation, Butterflies, Alien Invasion, Stitches, Weird Biology, Creep in a Bathroom, Aphrodisiacs, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Drugging, Peeping, general weirdness, Human Experimentation, Eventual Smut, p in v, Human Farming

Would you prefer to read this on AO3? Click here!

Previous Chapter -> Afterglow

Was it a leap for Y/N to get to the conclusion that humans used as the butterflies' cows? She'd been debriefed about previous missions that had gone down before she'd joined and had noted that the butterflies kept trying to take over mammals that are commonly known to lactate. Their food supply had been cut off, and they desperately needed another. They'd tried actual cows.

Yaks. Goats. Buffaloes. Camels. They'd even attempted a reindeer. Yet, it didn't have the desired response. Those animals could be milked, yes, but it was regular milk and not the amber goo that they needed to survive. So, they were incompatible. Butterflies had greater access to humans. They were literally using humans as meat puppets. Why not use it to their advantage? Why not make them compatible?

Y/N was unravelling in her mind as she paced around their hotel room aimlessly, mumbling incoherent things under her breath, thinking about everything that she had learned in recent days. Adrian was sitting opposite her, looking completely clueless.

"What am I missing here?" she cried out exasperatedly, throwing her hands into the air and dropping them onto her hips in frustration. "How? How are they changing us? Is it in the food? The drink?"

"Could be the weird gross stuff we have to drink every day."

Her attention snapped towards him as she gaped, completely in awe by his statement, "Seriously, how are you so good at this? You're amazing." He shrugged casually as if he'd done nothing special. But she saw the way his lips curled up just at the corners, as if he was happy to earn her praise.

"Milkweed! How did I not see that? Milkweed is a poison that caterpillars eat so when they turn into a butterfly their wings turn orange. Obviously, there is something else mixed in with it, but maybe when we drink it in large amounts, it turns our milk into that amber stuff."

Adrian stared at her open mouthed. There were so many theories flying around in his head that he didn't even have time to comprehend them all before she spoke again.

"Okay, okay... things are coming together. These perverts are so much weirder than we thought, aren't they?" she sighed. Adrian nodded his agreement, though confused about a lot of stuff that he knew that was important, but still, he was supportive. "We don't have any proof of this. This is just a lot of speculation and gut feelings so far."

"I could not swallow the poison and we could put it in, like, a tub or a plastic cup or a shoe, I don't know. Then, John could do tests on it, or send it away for some science nerds - that would probably be better - and they can figure out what it is," he posed, scratching his head and furrowing his brows. "Or... I could kill everyone?"

It wasn't the best idea in the world. But it was the only one they had. Later on that day, they'd try it out. And it went well for the first minute. Adrian held the milkweed in the side of his cheek like a hamster, but as soon as he went to say something, he forgot that it was there and spat it all over Y/N's face. She gasped in shock and wiped her face clean with the back of her hand as they started to laugh uncontrollably.

"Thanks babe," she said sarcastically as she shook her head and laughed harder.

"Yeah, sorry," he smiled sheepishly, wiping the rest of it away with his sleeve. "Guess that didn't work."

"We will explain our theory to everyone tomorrow and try again."

Just as Y/N said that, Sparrow made an announcement. "Hello everyone! It's unfortunate but the trips into the inner city tomorrow are cancelled because something has gone wrong with a few of the cars - I haven't got the foggiest about cars so I don't actually know what but I've been told that they are not in working order - and the weather report indicates that it may rain," he declared in a slightly disappointed voice.

The Bardots shared a glance. Obviously, that wasn't the reason why the outings were closed. They were aware of that. They'd have to wait until the following Wednesday to get their team up to speed.

"We'll resume it next week, not to worry. You'll soon be able to shop to your heart's desire and experience all of what Dubai has to offer."

Everyone else returned to their drinking and dancing and socialising, completely content with this arrangement. They'd expected a few grumbles and complaints to be heard from their fellow vacationers about having to stay behind, but they weren't prepared for the brainless acceptance they were seeing.

"We can't be the first to go back to our rooms, okay? Just be calm and casual," Y/N instructed in a low tone. Her fingers tightened around her glass as she looked through the crowd, her eyes sweeping across the room and waiting for a few couples to peel off from the group and leave.

"Wanna dance? That would be a normal thing to do, yeah?" Adrian whispered in her ear, placing his hands on her waist. His hands lingered there for a moment before squidging on her hips playfully so she'd cracked a smile and took his initiative.

And so, they found themselves dancing with each other yet again. They swayed to the music, keeping their bodies pressed close, as they tried to enjoy the moment without any worries of the impending alien takeover hanging above their heads.

"Can we do this when we get back to, you know, the 'real' world?" he asked softly, his eyes staring intently into hers as he searched for approval. "It's like long hugging. I like it. It's comfortable but in a dancy upbeat kind of way," he added with a small shrug of his shoulders and caused her to chuckle at that.

"Yeah, we can do this when we get back," she replied, nodding her head slowly to show her sincerity. His lips stretched upwards in a broad grin before he leaned in and kissed her briefly, just a brush of his lips against hers before pulling away and resting his cheek on the top of her head.

When 2 or 3 of the other couples finally gave up socialising and left the marquee, they disentangled and retreated back to their room. As soon as they got through the door, Adrian got to his knees right in front of Y/N. He guided her foot onto his thigh and unclipped the clasp of her heels before slipping them off. His thumb brushed over her ankle and he pressed a kiss to her knee as he placed the shoe onto the carpet beside him, never taking his gaze off of her. He did the same with the other shoe.

Then he got to his feet and moved around the room like he hadn't just done something incredibly hot and sweet while Y/N watched him with a blush growing steadily on her cheeks. He had a habit of doing stuff like that. Stuff that he did to help her out - even just a little bit, even just taking her shoes off for her - without acknowledging that he'd done anything.

And she loved it. More than anything. It was cute.

Thanks to today, it was probably going to be a while before her brain stopped whirring and allowed her to sleep, no matter how tired she was.

"C'mere," she cooed, "C'mere, champ."

He came, of course, and stood before her, his eyes going buggy as her fingers hooked around his belt loops and pulled him close. Y/N brought her hand to the back of Adrian's neck and tugged him down as she pressed her lips against his firmly, almost feverishly. The kiss deepened instantly as they began moving languidly across the room in the general direction of the bed.

Their movements were both slow and languid; as if they were trying to make sure their lips were never leaving each other. "Want you to fuck me," she murmured seductively against his mouth as her hand wandered along his chest and began to undo the buttons on his shirt.

"You do?"

Once his shirt was open, her fingers moved to his belt to unbuckle it, undressing him. Her lips never stopped roaming his neck as she worked his trousers open and dropped them on the floor beside his discarded shirt.

"Yeah, is that okay with you?"

"So okay. So, so okay."

Y/N held her hair out of the way as he reached around to unzip her dress, pushing it down her body gently until it was off completely, then she settled down against the pillows on the bed and waited for him to crawl over to her.

"Hi," he smiled, looming over her with a soft look on his face and his eyes half lidded. Y/N rolled her eyes, unable to contain the smirk forming on her face at his adorable nature. She sat up on her elbows to be tall enough to smooch him, though it soon became difficult to kiss when she was panting breathlessly against his lips thanks to how deftly his hand went into her underwear.

The squelching sound of wetness was loud and unmistakable in the mostly silent room, making Adrian chuckle at how obscene it felt. "We could've been doing this for months," he said, attaching his lips to her neck. "Imagine that, without Emilia messing things up, I could've been worshipping you for weeks. Every night, every single one of those times that I came to see you after patrol just so I could get a one more look at your pretty face before I turned in for the night... We could've been getting it on, baby. Could've kept it a secret from your sister."

"You could've kept a secret from Emilia?"

"Nope. Would've tried, though."

"She's gonna kick our asses," Y/N laughed, her hand tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Probably. Don't care, though. You're worth it."

Adrian leaned down and kissed her softly as he slipped his hands under her thighs, lifting them so he could slot between her legs. He was quick to pull his boxers down and slip inside of her, groaning loudly as he found himself filling her up completely. She moaned in reply as she gripped a handful of the sheets with her one hand, the other gripping his shoulder and holding herself steady as they began to rock into each other with a rhythm that only intensified as he continued.

Obviously, they'd had sex before.

Yesterday.

But that had been in order to fix his fuckup, this was purely because they wanted to. There was no explanation needed and there would be none. Just pure pleasure and ecstasy. They were lost in a world of nothingness - that place where time itself stood still and everything around them was drowned out by bliss - that was filled just by them.

This was the Bardots. This was where they belonged. With each other.

They collapsed against the pillows, sweaty and out of breath and utterly content. The only sound remaining in the room was that of their heavy breathing and their own heartbeat pounding against their ears. After a few minutes passed, Y/N shifted her head so she could rest her cheek against Adrian's chest.

She listened to his heartbeat as his palm moved up and down her spine soothingly, tracing lazy circles on her skin before bringing the gentlest of fingertips across the scar on her back. "You never did finish your story about this," he thought out loud as he traced the knife wound.

"Do you wanna know?"

"Only if you want me to know. If you don't feel ready to talk about it, then that's cool too."

Overcome with tenderness, she peppered his shoulder and neck with kisses and caresses before turning her head so she could look up at him. She lifted herself and rested her folded arms on his pecs before speaking, "Jack and I were on the same beat: The Creeper. He'd always wanted to be an investigative journalist - that's what he went to school for - and when we caught the same trail, we thought it would be best if we put our brains together."

"That's a smart idea," Adrian agreed, his thumb brushing along her cheekbone.

"That's what I thought too. Maybe I wasn't smart enough to figure it out, or maybe I was blinded cause we were sleeping together - "

"Hmmm...?" he interrupted, not really meaning to tease her, only to see her smile at the wordless question.

Was he a little jealous of a guy he'd never met and knew didn't have a chance with her now? Yes. Yes, he was. But that was on the back burner because he was pissed for her. This guy, this Jack Ryder had used Y/N for her body and brain, then fucking stabbed her. That's not fucking cool! You don't do that to people! You don't stick your dick in someone then stick a knife in them the next day.

That's fucked up!

"Are you going to be weird about that?"

"He's an asshole," he growled lowly. "An asshole! And you deserve better!" He lowered his voice a notch but couldn't keep his anger from leaking through. "You deserve someone who would cherish and love you. Not that fucking creep!"

Her expression softened, and she leant forward so she could press gentle kisses all over his cheek. "I have that." She cupped his face in her hands and pressed her forehead to his. "I've got you now, champ." He let his eyes drift closed as he melted under her touch and took deep breaths to calm down. "It's okay, babe. Breathe."

Eventually, his anger subsided to a dull buzz beneath his skin and his breathing returned to normal, so she carried on with her story and ran a hand through his hair as she explained, "Jack, uh, his show wasn't doing so well and he was always secretive - as long as I knew him, I didn't really know him, you know what I mean? - so, looking back, I guess, he was just keeping an eye on someone getting too close to the truth."

A pause happened, and her brows furrowed slightly, a small frown etched onto her face. "Then, I got far too close when I caught him and Yatz. They were mid-experiment, or mid transformation is probably the best way to explain it, and so I didn't blow their cover, Yatz got The Creeper to drive his razor sharp claw into my back."

"You said it was a knife?"

"I know, and I'm sorry for misleading you. It's a lot easier to say you got stabbed with a knife than your fuckbuddy's really pointy finger," she joked bitterly as she stroked his cheeks, the memory causing the pain to flare up for the first time in years and make her wince. He instantly tried his best to soothe the area, his palm gently rubbing up and down the line of her spine.

The memories resurfaced, flooding her mind like the river that washed away all feelings of safety and security. In an instant, she was back on that cold concrete floor that was damp with her own blood. The pain was hot, almost as if the Creeper's claws were coated in poison, but it wasn't intense enough that she blacked out thanks to the burn, which wasn't ideal.

Y/N had been awake and aware as the minutes ticked down. She couldn't move, couldn't think past the pain and the smell of blood and sweat, not really registering anything except the searing pain. And since she wasn't a threat in this state, Yatz and The Creeper moved at a leisurely pace to gather up their top secret documents and saunter out of their hideout.

She had no idea that she'd be bleeding out on the floor for 5 whole minutes before Jack came back. He was himself and not his beastly nightmare version, and ran to her side, phone squished between his shoulder and cheek as he called the emergency services.

If they'd been on the scene 60 seconds later, she would've been another casualty of Dr Yatz.

"I'm gonna kill that motherfucker!" Adrian cursed as he tightened his grip on his lover. "Unless you wanna do it. I'll never take your kill, I swear," he added sincerely, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head.

"I gave up on getting revenge years ago. Tell you what, whoever gets the opportunity first, takes the shot."

"Deal."

With that out in the open, Adrian felt the need to share something that he was hiding. Well, not necessarily hiding. If he knew the question he wanted her to ask, he would've answered in a heartbeat.

"My family was hit off the road by a drunk driver when I was a kid. Mom and dad were killed in the accident, my brother died in the ambulance, and I... I should've too. But, I've got this healing shit going on, you know? So, I survived and ended up living with my nana," he commented lightly, trying to brush off his emotions, "When I found out who the guy was, I, uh, killed him. I was 17. I don't regret it."

It felt strange to finally tell somebody about that part of his life after so many years keeping it under wraps.

"And I don't think you'll regret killing Ryder. Or Yatz. They had it fucking coming, that's what I think."

"Maybe you're right," Y/N replied. "I had a hunch you were a nana's boy. The knitting was a dead giveaway."

After everything, she was finally tired. The exhaustion of yesterday and the eventfulness of today had caught up with her. She let her head rest on his chest, wrapping him up in such a tight hug that he felt like he was being lovingly held captive. He didn't mind that. He wanted to be her captive for all eternity, if that was her wish.

As she felt herself drifting off, Y/N was sure to say, "I love you. Nighty night, champ." She smiled lazily to herself as she felt his lips press against her forehead and then fell asleep.

He whispered, "I'm going to kill them for hurting you, baby" into her hair. He kissed her hairline one last time before drifting off to sleep himself, letting the comfort of her touch and the sound of her soft snores lull him to sleep.

They stayed as inconspicuous as possible for days, waiting for Wednesday to come around so they could get their team's input. And after a handful of attempts, they'd finally managed to swipe some milkweed when Y/N pretended to need the bathroom whilst holding it in her mouth. She spat it out into a travel sided conditioner bottle and hid it in her bra.

It was safe to say that the rest of the 11th Street Kids were disturbed. It made sense, though. The butterflies couldn't find a food supply so they were making one. From humans. The very race that had taken away their food supply. It was ironic, really.

Adebayo began cautiously, "I hate to ask this, but we need to take some, uh... samples to make sure your claims are substantiated."

"Samples?" Adrian inquired.

"We need you to piss in a cup," Harcourt interrupted, speaking plainly. Emilia handed Y/N a bottle of water. "Drink up, squish."

Once samples had been taken and pots pissed in, Economos unlocked a fortified box and unpacked its contents, which were two smaller fortified boxes. Y/N expected even smaller boxes to be inside them, but, in actuality, there was a bag of silver circles that were the size of chia seeds. He got one of the gizmos between his thumb and finger, held it out to the couple, and announced what the hell they were looking out.

"These are mini forcefield implants. This is a - " He held it closer to his eye to see what marking was on it. "This is a left side one, right ones are in the other box. They go either side of your, of your, um, your orifices and, though they've not be tested for long term side effects, it is designed so the wave can come into contact with your body, but as soon as something 'other' passes it, it will disintegrate whatever that 'other' is."

Hell yeah! That ensured that no butterflies could fly up their ass and ride them like a pony. However, that wasn't the first thing on Adrian's mind. "When you say 'other', do you mean like alien stuff? What if someone had like a body part that they enjoyed and daily put in -"

"I don't want to hear this," Emilia dismissed as she walked into a back room. "I'm going to call Peace to check up on his mission."

"You two are free to keep on fucking." Adebayo made a 'bleurgh' sound but carried on. "Yeah, we know. His face says it all. Also, if your follow up question was about food, that was a problem with the initial prototype but has been ironed out now."

Adrian always looked at Y/N with those puppy love eyes but since he walked in the HQ door that afternoon, he'd been staring at her as if he was going to devour her the second he thought nobody was watching him. Y/N would be lying if she said she didn't look back at him with a similar intensity.

"Since you're so... familiar... with each other, you can attach these. Remove the black plastic and stick one - left on left, right on right - just inside the orifice." John shoved the bag with the forcefield gizmos into Y/N's hands and motioned towards the bathroom that they'd just been in to collect the samples.

Even though they'd been intimate, it still was a little awkward. Yet, it was something to laugh about. And yeah, it did protect them so it wasn't that much of a chore to install.

"Is it weird that I kinda wanna fuck you with everyone else in the other room?" Adrian flirted, his cheek still flushed thanks to what they'd just done as Y/N pulled up her trousers.

"You're lucky Meeley didn't kill you. She's become tame in recent years, I see."

"I wonder how tame she'd be if she heard me defiling her little sister."

His palm connected with her ass, the sound of the smack ringing in the quiet bathroom. Their coworkers on the other side of the door must've heard it, and that fact ensured that Adrian had a cheeky little smile on his face. Y/N rolled her eyes as she was pulled towards him, his lips meeting hers with an eagerness she couldn't help but return.

A small sigh escaped her throat as she melted against him once more, her arms wrapping around his neck while his went round her waist tightly, pulling her flush against his chest as he deepened the kiss.

"Don't push your luck," Y/N teased breathlessly once she broke apart from him. She rested her hand on his cheeks and stared at him fondly. "Or mine."

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it."

"Mmmm, I don't believe you."

Once again, he enticed her into a kiss, and yet again, she returned it immediately, smiling against his lips as her fingers tangled themselves in his hair. Before they could get carried away, however, a loud bang on the door rang out and Emilia's voice on the other side yelled, "Y/N L/N, I need to talk to you."

"Ooooh, you're in trouble," Adrian jeered, sounding like a little schoolboy telling the teacher on one of his friends. Y/N groaned and buried her face in his shoulder as she sighed defeatedly. He was right. She was in the doghouse.

Emilia dragged her sister away as soon as she exited the bathroom, and they headed straight for the back room, which was known as 'the freak out room' by the 11th Street Kids because it was unofficially used for private conversations, spiralling, and a way to get away from each other for five minutes. It had come to the point that there was an unofficial schedule of whose turn it was in the freak out room.

"Are you fucking stupid? Wait, you don't need to answer that cause I can do it for you: yes. Yes, you're so fucking stupid!" Emilia scolded, pointing her finger directly at her sister's nose. "What were you thinking, Y/N?"

Y/N sighed, and that was an answer in itself.

"Don't say it. Don't you even think about saying shit like that!" Harcourt warned despite the fact Y/N hadn't said anything verbally. Harcourt knew, though.

Sisters have a way of communicating that goes beyond language sometimes; it isn't even telepathy or empathy - it's just knowing the person so well that you're able to predict things based on the wealth of information and experience you have with them. So, Emilia was fully aware that the 'Bardot newlyweds' was more of an actuality than they had been before the mission began. The couple were married in everything but the eyes of the law.

"I -"

Interrupting any kind of reasoning or excuse or explanation that came from Y/N's mouth, Emilia flicked her sister hard on the nose with a gaze as stern as steel. On instinct, Y/N shot her hand out to wack Harcourt, and though she hadn't intended to, her fist came into direct contact with Emila's boob.

"Tit punching? Really, Y/N?"

Emilia got the older sibling look in her eyes. The one that Y/N usually saw and ran away from, screaming for their father to step in. Before she could make it back with the other members of A.R.G.U.S., Emilia slapped her across the face and got her into a headlock. This was so infuriating. Y/N could be so infuriating. She wanted to punch her sister so hard straight in the throat that she'd be unable to flirt with men who she thought weren't good enough for her.

To get out of the hold, Y/N tilted her head downwards and bit Emilia's arm. "OWW! No biting! No fucking biting! What the fuck is wrong with you?" Emilia let her sister go immediately and rubbed her arm, feeling the sting.

Surely their teammates heard that commotion. They had to. But this was family business and they knew to not interfere.

"...He's not going to stab me."

"He could!" Emila snapped back, glaring at her. She was mad and disappointed, yes, but she genuinely didn't think that Adrian would ever intentionally hurt Y/N.

Unintentionally, on the other hand, that's a maybe.

Their breaths slowed, and the fuzzy rage feeling in their heads settled down. They both stood, facing each other as they collected themselves. When Emilia spoke, the tone in which she was speaking was much calmer than when she entered.

"You can be normal. He can't."

"I tried being normal. It sucks. And I'd prefer to be fucked up with him than suck by myself," Y/N simply responded. Her older sibling raised her eyebrows in surprise but said nothing. Emilia didn't understand why Vigilante of all people, but for the first time, she accepted the fact that this was a fact.

Adrian and Y/N were a pair, a couple, and there was nothing she could do to stop that. Trying was useless. Trying would cause Y/N distress. Trying would fracture their sibling relationship. So, Emilia finally stopped trying.

"This doesn't mean that I'm going to be nice to him."

"Are you nice to anyone?"

A laugh was shared and then, acting as if they hadn't just fought, the pair walked back into the main room to find everyone else staring at them. John's eyes wandered down to Harcourt's arm.

"Why have you got a bite mark?"

"I bit her," Y/N announced, a weird sense of pride in her voice.

Next Chapter -> Puppeteering

*Click here for my Adrian Chase masterlist, or here for the entire masterlist*

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[adamworu]

The Subtle Horror of Evangelion

What keeps us all hooked to Eva time and time again? You get through your initial, confused watch of either Evangelion endgame, probably sometime in your adolescence wondering what the hell it is you just watched. The original source material is suffused with unsettling imagery, and sometimes too-close-for-comfort shorts. It’s so much to process that one watch is never enough. The imagery isn’t enough, however, because the mid-to-late-90s series comes with things you’ll pick up the more you focus on certain characters’ struggles or the interesting world-building. They arise little by little with every re-watch, adding onto what interested you in Eva to begin with.

There’s always that little voice asking you “What it is that really draws me here?”

Oh. The horrors.

The tragedy of it all.  

These things never leave you the second you bear witness to them, whether you become aware of them or not. You’re disturbed over it, a tad worried, no doubt, but you’re strangely hooked.

Horror works better on limitation, it’s why found footage capturing pale, ghastly, monstrosities of the deep wood will always stand as exponentially terrifying. While most all of us have taken cracks at Eva’s budget at some point, that’s what really drives these terrors home. Its low budget nature made it work.

Evangelion has commentary which forces a viewer to reflect. Most no one enjoys that. It’s the fear, however, that has its audience come back. Evangelion’s reflection alone isn’t what gives Eva it’s charm decades after its run. It’s the little things, most everyone misses, the anxieties, the terrors, all of it. Most of those things, fly over a lot of fans’ heads.

Buckle up, there’s a lot to go through…. (warning for mentions of abuse, body horror, means of suicide, nudity, blood, and gore)

Table of Contents

I. Icebergs for Dummies

Tier 1: The Tip of the Iceberg

II. The Hedgehog’s Dilemma

III. The AT-Field as a Universal Metaphor

IV. Kensuke Aida + War Idealism

V. Shinji is the Audience Surrogate

VI. Abuse in Evangelion

Tier 2: Just Below the Tip

VII. The Infamous Elevator Scene

VIII. Naoko + Casper

IX. The Other End of Existential Horror

Tier 3: The Body of The Iceberg

X. War Horrors of ‘Ambivalence’

XI. Unit-01 Berserk Scene

XII. Dummy Plugs + CNS

XIII. Kaworu + Adam’s True Power

Tier 4: Pre-Abyss

XIV. The “Nihilist” Lens

XV. The True Nature of Sync Rates

XVI. Unit 01+ MPE Gorging Scenes

XVII. Ancient Ruins of Arka

Tier 5: The Abyss

XVIII. Split Second Misato Death

XIX. Humans Are The Villains in Eva

XX. The Ultimate Paradox

XXI. Conclusion

I. Icebergs for Dummies

For those unaware, the iceberg image illustrates that things are much deeper than they appear, just like an actual iceberg. You’ve probably seen this selfsame iceberg--- separated by tiers--- a few times looking through late night internet rabbit holes (Putting it out in the open: I’m personally guilty of this!), fictional or non. It helps you understand why you’re so enticed to certain material, that you’d revisit them. The highest parts of the iceberg are the things in the material most everyone knows, the surface level stuff. The lower you go, however, the lesser known the parts of the material are. These are the things the person are aware of.

Eva has some iceberg illustrations if you look around, albeit they don’t go through the more saddening, sometimes graphic factors of Eva, only theories navigating through Eva’s universe. Evangelion is so deceptively packed with blink-and-you’ll-miss-it subtleties that if an iceberg were centered on that, the diagram would be packed. And I’m being generous as I write this.

A few ground rules, before we begin: The iceberg will deal with the more obscure and dark material as the tiers get higher rather than it only being relegated to obscure bits. The lower the tier, the higher the iceberg and the more subtler the anxieties which graduate into horrors the deeper you go.

Yes, Evangelion is occasionally horrifying. No, Evangelion is not lovecraftian. I think people use the term lovecraftian way too freely. It’s not enough to see something with (sometimes too many) limbs twisted in ungodly angles. Or legs where legs shouldn’t be. The same applies for creatures assuming forms we don’t entirely comprehend. Eva has never delved into the angels being incomprehensibly terrifying specifically because they come from a cosmic expanse.

Some of these actual horrors, big and small,  hit you after adolescence, something that makes you feel deeply for the characters’ dilemmas. It’s a feeling that grows and sometimes aches, rather than fades over time for many of us.

Tier 1: The Tip of the Iceberg

II. Hedgehog’s Dilemma

III. The AT Field as a Universal Metaphor

IV. Kensuke Aida + War Idealism

V. Shinji As the Audience Surrogate

VI. Abuse in Evangelion

II. Hedgehog’s Dilemma

Evangelion has its hand in so many psychological and philosophical cookie jars, from Freud, to Maslow, Johari, as well as Dostoevsky. The very tip of the Subtle Horrors of Evangelion Iceberg is something viewers are introduced to in the fourth episode of the series. It is one of the many psychological concepts dotted throughout the original show. Out of all those psychological concepts, this is the most explicit and most recurring.

The Hedgehog’s Dilemma describes the conundrum of two hedgehogs. The closer two hedgehogs become to one another, the more they harm each other with their spines. If you want to properly live, you need the closeness and intimacy of others. By allowing yourself to be close, however, you end up at great risk of being hurt. It’s the very reason what drives those who live to become guarded. Being perpetually apprehensive or building up walls isn’t a remedy for pains, however. The Hedgehog’s Dilemma isn’t just about why people become guarded after relationships ended on bad notes. It’s about the overall inevitability of pain.

Life is a continual push-pull of relationships, because we’re all creatures of comfort. We guard ourselves to varying degrees and sometimes even tell ourselves we won’t get close again, but personal comfort is one of our most ultimate drives.

The Hedgehog’s Dilemma not only describes that harm happens to us anyway, but illustrates that because comfort is universal we seek companionship regardless.

III. The AT-Field as a Universal Metaphor

The AT-Field is the most crucial rabbit hole in understanding the largest meta-narrative of Evangelion.

If Hedgehog’s Dilemma explains the what and the why people become more or less guarded, then AT-Fields explain the how. People build up walls around themselves all the time. You walk away from someone because they crack a smile at you... and it seems off.

Because you feel an anxious pang.

That’s an AT Field.

AT-Fields, or Absolute Terror Fields bear a few metaphors, one of which being boundaries. You see it as Shinji’s fear of becoming intimate, knowing the future implications or Asuka’s masculine protest (putting up a front). We can see an excellent example of the AT Field used by Asuka, her “Wall of Jericho” in episode 9.

You also see it manifested through the angels, the strange creatures in Eva who supposedly desire to merge with Adam, their mother. Seeing this in the angels makes you realize that the AT Field is actually a metaphor for boundaries which implicates us all. In episode 22, Arael, 15th angel, seeks to understand Asuka. The angel uses its AT-Field (a beam of light) no, its boundary, to breach Asuka’s boundaries. 

AT-Fields can be used to not only build up personal walls but to breach them as well. The irony of Arael’s action is that Arael’s AT-Field being erected while it floats just over Earth’s gravitational field makes it immensely similar to the Second Child; they’re both guarded.

The AT-Field is a funny sort of thing because it also sometimes explains how two people who are so alike can be guarded from one another. Sometimes you gain contempt for someone because they’re too much like your least favorable traits. You see this with Shinji and Asuka, both children without their mother desiring validation. Shinji calls Asuka a child midway into episode 9 and Asuka isn’t shy on voicing ideas of Shinji as dense or immature. They’re throwing stones in glass houses.

AT Fields are used to get the user out of dangers both physical and perceived. Sachiel, 3rd angel in the original series’ pilot episode, uses its AT-Field, in the form of flotation, to get itself from enemy fire. It never shows this until it is attacked first.

AT Fields are also responsible for one’s identity and physicality in Eva. Without the AT Field you don’t really exist. When Rei assumes the form of the person the character being cast into Instrumentality loved most in End of Evangelion, she’s causing the character to give up their AT Field. With that gone, they lose their physicality, turning into LCL (given the lovely term ‘tanged’ by fans). The ‘tanged’ individual suffers metaphorical death. Evangelion argues that in order for one to exist, others must perceive you and you must perceive you, a point best illustrated in episode 16. Since everyone is converted to LCL, no one really ‘exists.’ Rei describes this unnerving state as the inability of differentiating who you are and others, since everyone lacks a physical state without AT-Fields. Metaphorical death can be argued as worse than physical, since we all exist to make an impression of some sort. It’s what ties all the Eva cast together and the cause of their dilemmas. Validation. You can be living, yet very much forgotten or simply unknown.

There is living and there is “living.”

You can’t “die” unless someone knows you. You were never there. AT Fields are the thing that make us live, but as a drawback, prevents us from understanding each other fully. Kaworu states in episode 24 that AT Fields are the wall of the mind and the heart of the soul, an unapproachable piece of sanctuary. When all else is taken from us, all we have left is our place of respite.

I’d also like to pitch the saddening reality that the AT-Fields are what prevent us from understanding angels as a whole, our genetic siblings as scared of this world as we are. The psychological angels want to understand us, that much is true. The angels, however, use forms of communication at the expense of our boundaries. Because people greatly value boundaries it makes it hard for us to comprehend angels. The creatures are hardly malicious when you realize they wonder why we all do things that actually hurt us, as well as the fact that they do understand our minds. But, because they breach our boundaries, we become even more wary of the (mostly) unknown. Angels may be us, but the strange forms they take are something we aren’t familiar with. The feeling is mutual with angels, wondering why there are many of us, our forms and outward appearances so identical. It’s a truth as old as time that we all fear the unknown.

The anxiety of an AT Field means comprehending that there’s very little chance to 100% get others. Because we’re all wary in some degree, because we’re set in an idea or perception of someone, even if the someone in the past no longer applies. It’s not healthy for you to continue dwelling on relationships not meant to be, keeping yourself up at night asking why, because both of you have closed off each other for good. There’s always that chance the other can come back and if they do seek to understand despite past hardships, that’s good. If they don’t, all you can do is move on and accept it.

IV. Kensuke Aida + War Idealism

Kensuke is one of Shinji’s classmates, a supporting player in the series. He’s close with Toji Suzuhara, a boy who takes his anger on Shinji, after finding out that his sister has been injured during Shinji’s fight with 3rd angel Sachiel. As Suzuhara beats him down, Kensuke downplays the incident. Kensuke’s and Toji’s relationship is particularly interesting because the latter is affected to some degree by war (the war by humanity to prevent our destruction by angels). Kensuke glorifies the sentient, implicitly eldritch, multi-armored war-machines.

Kensuke can be best described as the ‘wow, cool robots’ drawing you’ve probably seen floating around. This is in relation to Gundam’s war commentary, but replace Gundam with Eva. Kensuke is enamored with the Evangelions and totally, willfully ignorant to the war horrors. Adolescents are forced to be the salvation of humanity, feeling every bit of damage to their own bodies whenever the Evangelion takes any hurt. Even after the war for humanity is long over, the pilots will be afflicted with traumas that will always hang over them.

Kensuke’s glorification is also what draws him to be Shinji’s friend. He uses Shinji’s status as a way of becoming a pilot himself by meeting up with Misato, putting himself at the cockpit of a strange creature magnificent machine.

When Toji becomes hospitalized after his battle in a hijacked Unit-03 vs. A Dummy System-controlled Unit-01, Kensuke expresses discontent at not being a pilot. He’s annoyed because “everyone” but him is a pilot.

Thing is, Kensuke isn’t heartless, just ignorant. Idealism is one of the uglier things that runs thick in the heart of Evangelion. His is one of many cases of unhealthy idealism in Eva, another example of making it difficult for those living to understand one another.

V. Shinji as the Audience Surrogate

Shinji as the audience surrogate isn’t always touched up on, but is sort of understood subconsciously by a lot of the viewers. Shinji’s character is specific, yet so generalized that him being a surrogate for the audience just… works. Don’t believe me? Shinji gets two psychological exploration-based episodes whereas Asuka and Rei each have one. Episodes 16 and 24 are both psychological angel episodes, albeit the latter is more in-series subversive. The 24th episode doesn’t involve a breach of subconscious boundary, but the pilot (Shinji) is in the hot-seat, being made aware of their issues. Leliel, 12th angel, contacts Shinji in the former of these. Both characters talk to one another, shown as a series of horizontal lines and vertical lines, sometimes intersecting. These lines are a strong reference to the Johari Window, a tool in psychology which helps someone become more aware of themselves. The Window’s quadrants are as follows

1. the part known to the self

2. the part known to others

3. the part known to the self and others

4. the part known to no one

Leliel also states that the self only exists of one perceives themselves as well as others. The angel also states that Shinji could better his reality, to which Shinji absolves himself of responsibility by arguing the horrible state of his reality. It’s a subtle pushing to Shinji and by extension the viewer into free will. Kaworu builds up on these concepts with Eva’s in-universe concept for boundaries. Free Will versus Determinism is brought up here, with the idea that AT-Fields are brought up because the living (again, not people – emotional complexities aren’t only human) will them into existence. By exercising free will, it means enduring pain, one of Shinji’s, and again the audience’s greatest fears. Any relationship has pains and conflicts. This is all a buildup of free will, determinism, self-awareness, and the Hedgehog’s Dilemma. Understanding all of these means swallowing the “pain is inevitable” pill. The problem with much of us is that we like the idea of relationships rather than being in one. We want to feel validated but without the conflict, even if the conflict can be solved. We’re all Shinji because we’re all aware to life’s hellish catch-22s, so we run. There’s times in our lives where we run as far as possible from these woes, these truths, but there’s pain in running too. It’s why escapism seems like such a viable action for some of us.

Pain is inevitable, but pain can be mitigated.

More damning evidence to Shinji being a viewer stand-in lies in either endgame of Evangelion (pun intended). In EoE, after the Komm Susser Tod sequence of everyone on Earth being tanged, we’re treated to a shot of EoE’s live audience.

We hear Shinji’s voice about his reality while he talks to Rei toward EoE’s end. There are shots of the city, of people going about their daily lives cementing that this is about us. End of Evangelion shows us a less favorable side of Shinji, a departure from the lauded end series “Congratulations” scene, in which he does understand free will rather than perpetually dwell on negatives. Shinji reacts unfavorably toward Asuka in EoE after his mother’s speech to the audience that ‘anywhere can be paradise’ and Shinji stating he doesn’t know where his happiness resides. Shinji (We) still has a ways to go if he wants to be a better person.

It’s probably why many of us are either inclined to champion Shinji or harangue him, and either reaction is fair. Many of us are aware of audience surrogates, but never to this extent. Shinji isn’t his best person, but he can be. Being his best means self-reflection. Droves of people who first were exposed to Evangelion were teens, and again many of Shinji’s woes are specific yet so generalized, hence our feelings of defense and possibly disgust.

No one likes scathing, yet accurate call-outs on their person, but they’re paramount for us to understand ourselves and others.

VI. Abuse in Evangelion

One of the worst things recurring in all of original Evangelion is a bevvy of abuses.

Abuse comes in many shapes and forms and it’s many characters’ realities. Abuse happens not because the universe ‘wills it’ (determinism aka, ‘that’s just how people are’). Abuse, be it conscious emotional absence, actual neglect, among other ungodly acts fly though the cast.

Abuse is cyclical and a lot of those doing it often get away with murder because they have power.

Much of Eva is comprised of children being forced to sort through adults’ emotional baggage. Those children become adults and the cycle continues.

We all know a Gendo. Or even perhaps a Misato. Hell, even a Ritsuko.

Anno states that Gendo’s character is of a societal meta-text, which explains many viewers’ ire in relation to the character.  He’s responsible for many of the seedy goings-on in Evangelion be it the financial (see: Jet Alone’s orchestrated out-of-control nature to give NERV more funding) or abuses (see: Rei, Shinji, Ritsuko, and, Naoko). It’s for this reason why Gendo’s actions are a sore spot for a lot of fans.

Anno: I’m not sure that it’s a real father [that Gendo represents]. Well, not a father in the sense of a parent with a blood relation to his child, but more, I think, [in the sense of being] a representative of society or the system. That’s why he has that expression.

Takekuma: So, he’s kind of amorphous.

Anno: The angels are the same. I made them appear amorphous in that way because, for me, society is unclear, the enemy is unclear.

Takekuma: Gendo is [a representation of] the boundries or the pressure of society itself.

Anno: That might be it. Perhaps Gendo is [a representation of] society itself.

http://wiki.evageeks.org/Statements_by_Evangelion_Staff

After many re-watches of certain Eva episodes, it just hit me, as I’m writing this why I’m sometimes apprehensive on an adult-exclusive lens of the show. This happens a lot in adolescence and our struggles are made trivial because of the mishandled baggage. As children, you’re meant to be subservient to parental whims. You have this sort of obligation to solve their problems. Give them closure. It doesn’t even need to be parental baggage, but just from adults in general. You see the way the adults act not just with the children but with each other. You see the way Gendo justifies neglecting Shinji, objectifying Naoko and Ritsuko or Naoko’s emotional absences as a mother to her daughter (also manifested through the MAGI). It’s these immature excuses as to why they can’t extend empathy to those around them.

It’s always excuses.

Eva’s original series has always been a show about children.

Tier 2: Just Below the Tip

VII. The Infamous Elevator Scene

VIII. Naoko + Casper

IX. The Other End of Existential Horror

VII. The Infamous Elevator Scene

The Elevator Scene is a sequence that sometimes gets glossed over due to Evangelion’s fleeting budget.  It took me years to realize the true gravity of the awkward silence of both the 22nd episode and its Director’s Cut version. The Director’s Cut version has Asuka abruptly jerking in the silence,  but that blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment speaks volumes. Understanding the scene means understanding why Asuka quietly stews in her anger. Understanding why Asuka stews means understanding Asuka from her debut to her emotional breakdown.

Asuka’s appearance in the 8th episode, Asuka Strikes!, is marked by a bold persona that carries on until the end. She isn’t shy on imparting her prowess to Shinji, stating that Units 00 as well as 01 were the prototype and the test type, respectively. Her Evangelion, Unit-02 is the finished product. She even states that she graduated from university. Despite these impressive feats so early in adolescence, the only time in which they’re noted is when Asuka talks of them. Misato takes in both Shinji and Asuka, but only ever “dotes” on Shinji. Gendo pays attention to Shinji because he pilots Unit-01, and 01 contains the soul of his late wife. Rei is the clone of Gendo’s late wife, hence Gendo’s attention and overall creepy, selfish obsession with her. Asuka and Shinji’s relationship, with Misato as their caretaker strongly mimics a Golden Child and the Second Fiddle. The only difference is, Shinji gains more attention due to Gendo’s and Misato’s respective baggage. Again, Eva is a series where children are forced to handle the baggage (with no break in the cycle) and when the child doesn’t have anything the adult particularly can clue in on, they become neglected.

That’s Asuka’s dilemma.

It’s why Asuka forces herself to grow up.

It’s why Asuka is driven to be competitive to Shinji and Rei, later growing contemptible at both.

Asuka suffers a few curses, one of which being the youngest, the inevitability of being consciously sidelined dawns on her, leading to her selfsame breakdown toward series’ end. She aligns youth with trivialization, so naturally, she’d front with the opposite. She never gets help in relation to her period. Misato and Ritsuko realize something is up with Asuka but they never really offer her the support.

There’s also the flashback to her trauma in episode 22’s beginning. She’s replaced by her mother post-Contact Experiment (which led to a deterioration of her mental health) via a doll that looks like her, red hair in pigtails. It’s the leading factor to her feigned boldness, her ego. The way in which she is marginalized in the series brings it all back.

Rei breaks the silence with a few words of compassion and all Asuka can do is express disbelief. She mistakes compassion for contempt.

For pity.

The idea that anyone would extend kindness, especially now of all times, is unbelievable.

Asuka also experiences a dilemma here, a dilemma those like her face. She already knows what it means to be vulnerable and deeply hurt, but she needs to make herself vulnerable because now, more than ever, she needs the support. Being vulnerable will cause past traumas to flood back in full force, but by stewing she deprives herself of any support. Rei offers that support, but a few words of support in a wave of trivialization can’t help but feel a bit too strange.

Asuka’s greatest anxiety is realized in the twenty second episode. It’s of being and staying second fiddle, that she’s always been set up to fail. Even 2 episodes after the fact,  in which she actually starves herself does she realize once more how she’s permanently ‘below’ others.

Asuka’s curse finds itself in real life, and it’s for that reason why I believe some find themselves resonating with her. Asuka’s gradual descent into bitterness is something I find myself waking up some nights thinking about after 7 years going through Eva; hers is a cautionary tale on being emotionally distant to cries of a damaged youth. Casually imparted knowledge of past achievements, and the competitive attitude mixed with embitterment, some of which from a genuine place but also a product of neglect. We were forced to play second fiddle, we forced ourselves to grow up to feel more legitimate, forced to carry an ire that stews because it seems no one listens.

VIII. Naoko+Casper

The late Naoko Akagi is a woman of multitudes. Those multitudes are compartmentalized into the 3 MAGI. They are Balthasar, Melchior, and Casper.

Casper shows itself to be the most prominent aspect of Naoko’s personality, her as a woman. Ritsuko states that, after the defeat of Iruel, 11th angel, that Casper is the part of her mother which remained that way to the end.

Balthasar and Melchior have been bested, be it by rival MAGI, or Iruel’s assault. This calls back to the fact that Naoko’s other facets aren’t anywhere near as prominent. Naoko has cited her own emotional negligence, of only showing emotions should it ever benefit her.

Casper on 3 occasions fights tooth and nail, Iruel’s assault, an attack by multiple MAGI in End of Evangelion or the defiance of Ritsuko activating the self-destruct sequence. Ritsuko does this to seek vengeance against Gendo for coming to the immense realization that he never genuinely cared for her. Gendo has always used Ritsuko for her body. This would destroy NERV, meaning killing herself and Gendo.

Then you realize why Casper overrides the sequence.

Casper’s stubborn behavior wasn’t actually to defend NERV but to protect Gendo. Casper’s defiance aka Naoko’s emotional absence toward her daughter allowed Gendo to kill a bewildered, rightfully angered Ritsuko.

The saddest part of Casper’s, no, Naoko’s choice is that Naoko got away with murder. Evangelion is a story about children dealing with the selfishness of adults and the adults never receiving justice for their wrongdoings. The relationship between Ritsuko and Naoko is an excellent example that this doesn’t just implicate the young pilots. Ritsuko dies in End of Evangelion with the truth that her mother, as a woman, in the end chose the man who manipulated both of them.

IX. The Other End of Existential Horror

Some spend their whole lives trying to make a mark. Others can’t help but be known.

People get smart sometimes to get themselves out of a current situation. Kaworu and Rei’s existences are such that they’re deadlocked from living. Their existences are the product of an experiment, to be later heavily watched and raised as the Last Messenger. The latter is the result of Gendo’s obsession with his late wife.

Kaworu and Rei’s existential crises are opposite from the rest of the cast; while others do their damndest to become known, they cannot be unknown. Rei’s character centering more around her identity than other characters is also initially and sneakily alluded in the opening.

The Johari Window is a tool encouraging self-awareness in the person, alluded to twice in the show, with the second time being in the sixteenth episode. Both usages of that illustration, for Rei, and Shinji drive home crucial aspects of the meta-text.

This would also tie Rei to Shinji in End of Evangelion forcing Shinji to reflect on his own awareness and will. Rei is an astute, young girl whose arc is about her personal relationship with identity, something she is all too familiar with due to her objectified nature. Rei’s arc is even more so entrenched in identity than other characters that she is one of the characters imparting personal and universal realities.

Ayanami Rei’s existence from start to finish is inundated with the issues of others, causing her to internalize being always expendable. In Rei’s Poem in episode 14, it becomes clear that she sees herself based on usage. She likens herself to a field of flowers, which slyly alludes to the Dummy System’s “parts” 9 episodes later, other Reis.

  Rei is seen as malleable vessel which houses thoughts rather than her own person and she can’t do anything about it. So she resigns to her reality. Even if she does tell off Gendo in End of Evangelion for his objectifying, she’s not even out of the woods. She never will be.

I used to think Rei’s “slap” to the face to the man with the (most) baggage was empowering. Then I learned about abuse during adolescence, how kids who lack a support system act while away from their abusers. Even saying an emphatic “fuck you” to your abusers isn’t enough to be a happy ending. Rei is a girl who lacks a support system and she suffers from it. Start to finish.

Kaworu’s crises are much trickier to pinpoint because there’s so little to work with. He doesn’t get an episode dealing with personal, subconscious explorations. Getting his character means first getting how Evangelion re-contextualizes what “Ode to Joy” symbolizes. It also means understanding the AT-Field and most people won’t pick that up on an initial foray. Or maybe even a second. Most people don’t pick up that the AT Field implicates anything living and physical or its metaphor for boundaries and identity. There’s the common misconception that Evangelion is a “human” show.

Kaworu marks off his appearance humming “Ode to Joy” while Shinji wonders who to turn to. It’s a song generally known for its jovial nature, but most importantly, Ode to Joy is:

known also as the “Choral” Symphony. Its finale is a musical setting of Friedrich von Schiller ’s “Ode to Joy,” a hymn to the unity and freedom of humanity.

http://www.dictionary.com/browse/ninth-symphony

The Choral Symphony assumes a more horrific context later on. Kaworu is the last messenger and what his action is would lead to the mass annihilation to lilin/human or angels. ‘Unity of man’ is changed in Eva’s context – it marks either unity of man or the death of man. It doesn’t matter who Kaworu allows unity to, because his hands would be stained with death anyway. Then you realize why Kaworu deploys his most powerful AT Field during his descent to Heaven’s Door.

This is his reality.

Kaworu’s status as the Angel of Free Will isn’t about him being the only complex angel, as a lot of people think. It’s about being the sole individual handing that freedom to others.

You realize his terrifying dilemma goes to the tune of being feared for his own existence as an angel (which he notes to Shinji) and not being able to properly live.

Sometimes you ”hurt” people by existing.

Sometimes people hate you for the simple act of existing.

Kaworu’s and Rei’s terror is the other end of existential horror, that you can’t help but forced to be known. Sometimes you have knowledge but aren’t allowed to do much with it.

Tier 3: The Body of The Iceberg

X. War Horrors of ‘Ambivalence’

XI. Unit-01 Berserk Scene

XII. Dummy Plugs + CNS

XIII. Kaworu + Adam’s True Power

X. War Horrors of ‘Ambivalence’

Episode 18 is where anxieties graduate into horrors both implied and visceral. Unease hangs over the episode, with the mystery of Unit-04’s disappearance and tests being done on Unit-03. Misato tells Shinji that because tests would be done, there’d be a pilot there. Misato uneasily withholds this info from Shinji and Kensuke breaks the silence with his recurring desire of being a pilot, still ignorant of the war horrors. There’s a subtlety that Shinji picks up on with Toji but not enough to put two and two together: that the big-eater himself isn’t feeling so hot.

The continual chirp of cicadas and birds nor the peel of the school bell are enough to break the unease of the viewer or of Toji. Toji goes from indirectly being affected by war vs angels to being chosen, drafted even, a child at the first line of defense for the apocalypse. We get a flashback of him beating down Shinji, before it cuts back to present day Toji. He will be in Shinji’s shoes.

Toji balls a fist, a recurring theme in Eva, to the tune of “What is your hand for?” Toji is finally  about to take things into his own hands.

Asuka takes a few cracks at Shinji to Hikari that he hasn’t quite gotten the memo, but when Shinji asks her even she’s halted in words.

Then the day comes.

Tests are being done and suddenly Unit-03 goes  rogue with Toji in her (note the Evangelions have the souls of the pilots’ mothers, save for Rei). Unit-03’s’s strange behavior is revealed to be the work of the 13th angel, Bardiel. Shinji’s ignorance is made worse by Misato’s absence (with Misato telling Ritsuko she’d tell Shinji the pilot’s info after the tests). Units 00 through 02 are sent out for the new threat and Shinji sees this new threat. Anxiety rises.

The song “Marking Time Waiting for Death” accentuates the anxiety. Unit-03’s silhouette eerily contrasts with the sun, her body slightly hunched and approaching slowly.

Fear washes over Shinji when he deduces that with an Evangelion inside, there must be a pilot.

Yet he still doesn’t know.

The other pilots are aware, and show reluctance to the revelation. A hijacked Unit-03 sets herself on Asuka, Rei, and even strangling Shinji. Shinji allows the angel-hijacked-being to strangle him, because killing another human being is simply horrific.

 Eva has its hand in the war morals cookie jar here because Shinji stands at a conundrum, to other let this creature take his life or to murder flesh and blood. This dilemma goes double-time in war. Gendo asks why Shinji hasn’t dealt with the 13th yet, with a somewhat horrified Shinji pleading  about the pilot. Gendo commands for the unfinished Dummy System to override Shinji’s controls and then suddenly...silence….

The Dummy Controlled Unit-01 springs back and we’re treated to a close-up of Unit-03/Bardi3l being strangled. 

A nauseating crunch sounds and the unit goes limp. A controlled Unit-01 proceeds to raise hell on the incapacitated enemy, resulting in the unit’s blood and guts flowing through the streets. NERV’s personnel can’t do anything save for become fearful at the Dummy System’s capabilities. Terrible, visceral noises sound one by one as blows strike, as the unit’s severed limbs and blood splatters riddle the urban battlefield. Shinji hears every second, every squelch and splat.

Imagine the pain of 03’s pilot.

But the terrors don’t cease here. 

01 doesn’t stop at just raising hell on the incapacitated 03, and we’re treated to another close-up shot of 01 tightly holding onto 03’s entry plug, before crushing it.

Somewhere away, Misato receives news that Unit-03 has been dispatched as an angel. Shinji feels the weight of having actually killed someone, before Misato actually breaks the news that the pilot is not only alive but that the greatly injured pilot is his classmate.

It never really hit me until now how this scene holds another horrifying subtlety. Compare this to episode 3, where Toji’s first interaction with Shinji involved him punching him, the very scene playing at this episode’s beginning. The 18th episode ends now with ,Toji and Shinji are both joined in the same camp, of children emotionally and physically marred by war, not able to fully control their situations.

XI. Unit-01 Berserk Sequence

Shinji stands in a situation where he can no longer take the terrors aligned with the Evangelion. He’s gone from sustaining injuries great and small from combat with the eldritch angels, to indirectly harming a friend through it. He resigns from his position as a pilot, understandably running away even with the approach of the 14th angel.

After a talk with Kaji about how he can control his future and he only, Shinji once again puts himself at the forefront of further pains. He must once more thrust himself to the terrors that align with the war-machines whilst struggling with other traumas.

During his fight against Zeruel, his Evangelion dies out and it all floods back to him. Shinji once again finds himself at a position of no power, frantically pressing at his controls to no avail.

He can only hear blow after blow of the 14th’s onslaught. He and Unit-01 are at their most vulnerable.

Until Unit-01 springs back.

W hat follows is the famous Berserk sequence, a scene whose terror can be thanks to Evangelion’s low budget.

We see the Evangelion in all her terror and the sort of off-ness that carries in this scene.

Episode 19 has no problems on treating us to front-row tickets to terror.

Unit-01 snatches part of Zeruel’s appendage and adds it to her mass. A sickening squelch sounds and her new appendage contorts into place in an instant. 

She moves over to her incapacitated, angelic meal and doesn’t hesitate to chow down. The shots feel too personal yet nowhere near in the sense of the show’s meta-textual reflections. It’s almost like stumbling on a cryptid and when she shoots a look at the viewer, it feels as if she’s looking at us, like we’ve interrupted her dinner. Or perhaps she did finish the meal... and she’s in the mood for seconds? Perhaps even thirds?

The bizarre and eldritch nature of the Evangelions goes full force with this imagery. Episodes 2 and 16 laid the foundation of how off the Evangelion Unit-01 was with how she openly mutilates her targets. Or even the unsettling roar of Unit-01 that’s not entirely bestial. The sound is straddles a line between the blood-curdling bestial and the human. But here? Eva Unit-01’s position, from her hunched figure, to her more feral position as she feasts, feels far too organic...and far too human.

The Evas themselves aren’t human, but the souls housed within are. Eva’s souls are souls of the respective pilots’ mothers, an example of the mother and child symbolism omnipresent in Neon Genesis Evangelion.

Shinji’s mother is Yui and as we go through the series, we realize the s2 engine appliance was intentional. An s2 engine offers infinite stores of energy and this is needed for Instrumentality. With the s2 engine within her grasp and the fact that Evas don’t subsist on anything, this would make the consumption of 14th completely recreational.

It’s super tempting to frame this scene as containing some abomination that now stands unchained and indiscriminate in its targets, but it isn’t. It’s sort of understandable because Units 00 and 02 don’t come close to exhibiting this sort of behavior nor were they in this circumstance. Neither Unit-00 nor 02  have any desires in regard to Instrumentality. In the end, we should look to Yui and her own endgame, because Yui’s running the show here.

XII. Dummy Plugs + CNS

Ritsuko states the Dummy Plugs are machines which imitate pilot’s thinking. There’s a bit more than the possibility of this being 100% AI due to the apparatus Rei is in.

This very likely implies the respective person’s thought processes added with AI programmed in a way which best “describes” the pilot (basically how they are perceived). In episode 17, Rei is situated in this apparatus strongly resembling the central nervous system, the brain and the spinal cord.

{The central nervous system CNS is responsible for integrating sensory information and responding accordingly. It consists of two main components:

1. The spinal cord serves as a conduit for signals between the brain and the rest of the body. It also controls simple musculoskeletal reflexes without input from the brain.

2. The brain is responsible for integrating most sensory information and coordinating body function, both consciously and unconsciously. Complex functions such as thinking and feeling as well as regulation of homeostasis are attributable to different parts of the brain.

https://mcb.berkeley.edu/courses/mcb135e/central.html

Ritsuko imparts the unsettling revelation about Rei and by extension the Dummy Plant itself (after Misato coerced her into learning about Rei). The Reis are the core of the Dummy Plugs (and the System used to brutalize a hijacked Unit-03 and its trapped pilot). This scene adds more to the extent of Rei’s objectification, of her being replaced. It adds on to Rei III’s comment of being ‘the third.’

Rei isn’t savage by any means but the sheer brutality of Dummy System’d Unit-01 5 episodes prior may hint at her straightforward nature.

I’d like to pitch that Ritsuko’s approach to Rei’s Dummy Data was also the product of her subtle animosity toward Rei. When she refers to the Dummy Plug as a machine which mimics human thinking, she’s talking about Rei. She also refers to her similarly in episode 23 by referring to Rei as spare parts, as if Rei herself is some soulless machine whose parts can be switched out if need be. This could also call back to Rei’s poem, in which she calls herself a vessel which holds human thoughts.

Another question remains: how does Kaworu play into this?

The MPEs (the Mass Production Evangelion series) use Kaworu’s Dummy data, meaning that there are cloned Kaworus stored off somewhere, perhaps floating with soulless smiles the same as Rei has.

Treated as spare parts.

This also implies that Kaworu is more or less reduced to an object.

What’s more disturbing is the nature of the MPEs gratuitous method of ravaging and mutilating Unit-02 and by extension Asuka.

Kaworu hasn’t ever demonstrated any degree of malice, so this can’t really insinuate a ‘Kaworu is secretly evil’ narrative. But this can tie back to a recurring theme of humans fearing and despising angels. It’s because of this that the revelation of our genetically identical nature or the fact that they can comprehend our psychology is framed in-show as kind of shocking. It is because we’re so disturbed at the angels’ existence (or anything else we don’t comprehend) that we view them as inherently savage in nature. Kaworu’s quick-to-perceive personality most likely translated itself along with the AI. This would also rule in the somewhat strategic way in which the MPEs act against Asuka, exploiting her attack patterns through surprise attacks.

Some of Kaworu’s as well as Rei’s Dummy Data are the product of universal (Kaworu) and personal (Rei) contempt by people. Let that sink in.

XIII. Kaworu’s + Adam’s True Power

The bottom of the fridge horror portion of this iceberg is something that has subtly plagued me for years. We’ve only ever caught glimpses of Kaworu’s abilities in his debut episode. I picked up on it little by little with each re-watch of the episode, with every other time his abilities dawning on me. If I wasn’t focusing on how his character fits in the greater framework of Evangelion, I was cluing in on his abilities.

One of his abilities is being able to block out light, magnetism, and subatomic particles. Some of the forces which make up the universe. This witnessed by the viewer when he realizes the whole of humanity’s welfare hangs by a thread, due to the coexistence of angels and Adam.

Adam.

Adam’s soul lies within Kaworu. Adam. Who utilized an Anti-AT Field which caused Second Impact. An Anti-AT Field, which killed off much of the Katsuragi Crew in Antarctica.

This makes Kaworu the most powerful angel in the original Evangelion series.

Eva has shown that ownership of an angel’s soul (or partially, if you’re onboard the Rei I is in Unit-00 theory) allows the person to inherit the angel’s abilities through Rei. Rei blocks off Kaworu’s immensely powerful field with one of her own, canceling out both as a result. As we know, AT Fields for people are a figurative affair. People lack the physiology to exhibit a physical AT Field because they don’t have cores like angels do. Angels’ souls when possessed by humans have a sort of ability to circumvent parts of human physiology (if you’re looking for the whole package, you should eat angel’s flesh too). Rei also shows the ability to float, implied in episode 24 and shown explicitly in End of Evangelion.

But this raises a few questions about the last messenger is the ability to block out some of the forces of the universe Adam’s powers or Kaworu’s? Another ability that continues to plague me the more I think about it is Kaworu’s AT-Field usage on Heaven’s Door to bypass its lock.

We haven’t actually seen Adam’s other powers (if the angel has any) because the it’s anti-AT Field was halted via Lance of Longinus. Other than its ethereal appearance in flashbacks, we only see an incapacitated Adam in embryonic form. That’s it. We don’t know if Adam exhibits any other powers due to this impediment. If Adam does have more powers, this would add onto both the fridge horror factor of Adam and Kaworu.

Tier 4: Pre-Abyss

XIV. The “Nihilist” Lens

XV. The True Nature of Sync Rates

XVI. Unit 01+ MPE Gorging Scenes

XVII. Ancient Ruins of Arka

XIV. The “Nihilist” Lens

There’s something that implicates the whole cast. Something that goes beyond the meaning of the AT-Field, and the all-too-known Hedgehog’s Dilemma.

Eva is filled to the very brim with psychological concepts, but there’s one thing which ties this all together. It goes much larger than the desire to become validated or cycles of abuse and unresolved issues to a newer generation.

Free Will Vs. Determinism ties the entire cast together and is disturbing in its own right. It not only ties the cast together but also contributes to Eva’s meta-narrative.

Episode 16’s sequence with Leliel, Shinji, and the Johari Window gives little breadcrumbs to this psychological dilemma.  Leliel teaches Shinji about his own identity as well as slowly ushering him to a sense of self-awareness. Leliel also attempts to usher Shinji out of filtering reality with only convenient parts. Shinji argues that he can’t really be held culpable for his actions, because the one and only reality is that reality is awful, bar none. Not his reality, but reality as a whole. This deterministic stance becomes ever more blatant 8 episodes later with the appearance of Nagisa Kaworu.

Kaworu’s designation is the angel of free will. The irony of this stands in the fact that Kaworu isn’t the only angel who can exhibit free will (with some of the angels before him taking the time to try comprehending people). Kaworu’s status comes from his identity as the last messenger, bringing about freedom for one species (humans/lilin or angels) at the expense of the other. Kaworu knows his reality well and in the end, seeks to better the reality of those around him. Eva doesn’t romanticize the prospect of free will, however, because Kaworu is so aware of his own person and how he can hurt those around him that it greatly bothers him.

The metatext doesn’t just position Shinji as being in the wrong, but also the audience. Remember the point I made before about Shinji being the audience substitute? It’s further hammered home from the series’ tail end and into End of Evangelion.

“That’s just the way things are.” is a common response to things in life we feel resigned on changing, because we don’t know how to change them. This quote is a parallel to Shinji’s “humans aren’t made to float!” in episode 16.

Shinji does know how to change much of his reality, but by doing so he’d be pushed into free will. Free Will is the solution and it means holding yourself accountable rather than believe that it’s everyone else with the problem. With the idea that you can change your reality, it offers you the opportunity to love yourself.

If you love yourself, then it becomes much easier to love others.

Eva’s free will and determinism metatext hammers home the extension of empathy.

Shinji/the viewer’s greatest problem is that because we don’t love ourselves it makes it difficult to extend the love to everyone else. Shinji’s love translates as idealism. Because of his unhealthy idealism, he is hindered from understanding people.

By ascribing your beliefs from determinism to free will, it opens your mind to an entire world of possibilities, but therein lies the terror. It is because of these possibilities that Shinji and by extension, the viewer, likely fears free will. Shinji finds ways make himself validated, but with free will, the argument could be made that it doesn’t matter. There’s the anxiety-crippling likelihood that none of it actually matters, because your existence doesn’t matter. If we’re going on this bent, acts of making an adequate impression on others are acts of personal denial. In the end, these are what they are, possibilities.

The greatest terror of it all is that we don’t know.

User power-chords makes an excellent point about the inherent darkness of an internal locus of control.

User power-chords posits the idea of existential absurdity for Shinji not as a certainty but a possibility. There’s always a likelihood that our desires to comprehend the world around us, to find ultimate understanding are in vain.

Cheesy as it sounds, people fear ambiguity because we seek a satisfying end. We don’t just seek answers. We want outside closure and inner peace, but we won’t always get it. It’s why we rationalize relationships that end on bad notes. Sometimes you worry about your falling-outs...and it hurts. You never got the answers your wanted so this pain carries, for months, sometimes even for years. Dwelling on the issue serves no purpose other than to keep that hurt with you. The best thing to do sometimes is to find your own closure, your own meaning.

No, Evangelion isn’t actually pro-nihilism, but it presents us with that likelihood. That’s what makes this aspect of the narrative so terrifying: The consideration that we find meaning in the meaningless.

XV. The True Nature of Sync Rates

The nature of injuries and having them in adds onto the innate horror --be it war or otherwise-- and themes of the Evangelion. The severity of the injury is based on how high the pilot’s sync ratio is. An average rate while sustaining damage will bring hurt to the actual pilot in the respective spot. Some examples:

Sachiel makes multiple headblows to Unit-01 and Shinji in episode 2, causing head trauma.

Ramiel’s, (5th angel), particle beam attack in episode 6, an attack so severe that Shinji needed medical care.

Unit-00 and Rei being infected by a Bardiel hijacked Unit-03 in episode 18. Toji’s condition in episode 18 stands as a large example of the innately disturbing nature of sustained injuries.

Toji’s condition becomes all the more nauseating when you see Evangelion parts and blood flow through Tokyo-3.

Toji could feel every last second of strangulation, body blow, and feel the unspeakable pain of his arm being severed.  Let that sink in.

Asuka receives the worst of these considering the nature of her sync rate being high. The higher the rate the more kept the damage is. The circumstances behind Asuka getting the worst of it goes back to the AT-Field. Asuka understood the meaning of the AT-Field, that the more you open yourself up to others, the more hurt you become. The realization dawns on Asuka as her mother from within the Evangelion shields her from the onslaught of JSSDF troops.

It’s then that Asuka finally comprehends what the Absolute Terror Field is. Despite her emotional needs being neglected, realizing she’s set up to fail, and going comatose she still goes on.

Asuka, despite everything, takes a chance and opens her heart knowing the double-edged nature of the AT Field. What happens next?

Asuka took a chance.

She opened her heart...

...and she got hurt all because she opened herself.

XVI. Unit 01+MPE Gorging Sequences

The brutality of both Unit-01 and the Mass Production Evas holds three layers: of visual horror, implied horror, and thematic horror. Unit-01, after taking Zeruel’s s2 engine into herself, proceeds to then brutalize the 14th angel by way of still gorging on it. The feeding was entirely recreational considering Evangelions don’t subsist on food to function. This was more about the sheer act of brutality for brutality’ sake.

The Mass Production Evas also fall under this category, the way in which they deal with Asuka after incapacitating her with a replicated Lance of Longinus is also sadistic and gratuitous. They also proceed to gorge on Asuka, her fate made worse through the simple fact that her sync rate is heightened.

The MPEs don’t even swiftly finish her off.  She is in a state of tremendous and unimaginable pain. They fly above her slowly, circling above her mangled Eva.

They are almost mocking her as she can do nothing, save for writhe. Asuka’s seething, repeated “I’ll kill you...I’ll kill you….” is then silenced by the MPEs spearing her down.

The brutality doesn’t end there, as we see much darker implications of the damage sustained toward the end of the first half of End of Evangelion.

Shinji bears witness to the implications after seeing the decimated remains of Unit-02 being carried off by some of the Mass Production Units. The sickening reality of it all dawns on him and he is once more exposed to the woes of war and the nightmarish aspect tied of the Evangelions.

XVII. Ancient Ruins of Arqa

We’re ending the pre-abyssal end of the iceberg with Evangelion’s original proposal.

Eva’s proposal, a far cry to the show today, had a more sci-fi angle to it. Psychological concepts weren’t exactly pitched nor was it self-aware. The angels weren’t even referred to as the angels, but as the Apostolos. Instead of the 18 we were presented with in the original show and the movies, there were 28 Apostolos.

The Apostolos designs stand as testament to how far of a departure the proposal was to the final cut. They look far more menacing than the more amorphous, much softer defined, beady-eyed angels we’re used to. To top it all off, the Apostolos were the de facto villains of Evangelion’s prototype pitch. The Apostolos in the Proposal, toward the end, proceed their onslaught as a group rather than the series’ one by one. Toward the series’ end, the 12 strongest Apostolos begin their assault on North America, annihilating the continent in its entirety.

Only 12 of the creatures laid waste to a singular continent.

Episode 24: "Now, the Promised Time"

Rei breaks down. Her secrets are revealed. At last awakened, the twelve strongest Apostolos descend from the Moon. Both Eva Unit-06 and the American continent vanish completely. Humans acknowledge their helplessness in the face of the Apostolos' crushing power. The promised time, when people will return to nothing, approaches. A human drama in the depths of despair.

Episode 25: "Arqa, the Promised Land"

The laboratory holds the ancient ruins of Arqa, which have become key. In order to stop the twelve Apostolos, the United Nations' head members annul the Human Instrumentality Project and resolve to destroy the Apostolos. Shinji's father objects. Shinji and the others stay at the laboratory for Rei. A drama of people conflicting over incongruous objectives.

https://wiki.evageeks.org/Resources:Neon_Genesis_Evangelion_Proposal_(Translation)

The aforesaid creatures were so powerful in the original pitch that Human Instrumentality and the ancient ruins of Arqa would be the way of stopping the onslaught.

Tier 5: The Abyss

XVIII. Split Second Misato Death

XIX. Humans Are The Villains in Eva

XX. The Ultimate Paradox

XVIII. Split Second Misato Death

As the last and most explicit aspect of original Evangelion, it would only make sense that EoE specific content would take its place in Tier 5. End of Evangelion is a 90 + minute tour de force with disturbing imagery back-to-back. Split Second Misato Death refers to one of the most unsettling images sprinkled all throughout the movie. Here are a few of the many examples of EoE’s building up on Evangelion’s ugliest parts.

Everyone cites the infamous hospital scene not even 5 minutes into the film as the first proof, but user power-chords has pointed out, Shinji has actually attempted suicide (refer to the ‘Free Will v. Determinism’ part of the iceberg.)

After Misato is mortally wounded and sends Shinji off in an elevator not long after, the JSSDF blow up that part of NERV. A few people have pointed out the most disturbing facet of this scene: through freeze-framing that you can actually see Misato’s body during.

The JSSDF scene partway through End of Evangelion in which NERV personnel are summarily annihilated.

For those missing the small detail of Shinji’s attempted suicide ,Shinji’s depressed state is made more clear when the JSSDF locate him. When they do they attempt to kill him execution style. Shinji doesn’t move.

“I don’t want to die…!” during the JSSDF’s assault, Asuka is awoken from comatose state. She is protected by her mother via an AT-Field by Unit-02. She gains back her self-preservation after this realization, and multitude of images play. One of them is an extremely gruesome close-up of Asuka’s face. (extreme body horror warning, proceed with caution)

The Komm Susser Tod scene beginning with Shinji strangling Asuka in harsh coloring, Naoko’s same action toward Rei plays right after. A few disturbing child drawings follow after, predominantly featuring death. (seizure warning, body horror warning)

End of Evangelion’s flooring nature comes from the fact that it builds up on the subtly horrific and makes these terrors explicit. Whatever existed beyond closed doors becomes now available for us to see,

XVIII. Humans Are The Villains in Eva

At the penultimate point of the abyss lies a horror as old as much of time. Of the humane being more disgusting than the monsters.

That we can be monstrous.

This fact becomes known with the appearance of the JSSDF as dispatched by SEELE, methodically mowing down NERV personnel with little to no weaponry of their own. We’re treated to NERV’s personnel in their hallways, some forced with the moral dilemma of leaving their own to die while surviving or helping their own while both end up being gunned down. 

It becomes apparent that SEELE has been gradually, intentionally chipping away at NERV’s Defense Budget, getting rid of the (little) competition they have after the defeat of the Last Messenger.

There’s a degree of contempt and casual sadism that comes with how they kill the personnel. In one instance, a NERV worker surrenders to the JSSDF, before being killed off in execution style in the distance (one headshot plus two extra shots for good measure).

When you look back at it, this sort of sheer, unabashed brutality wasn’t felt about the angels. Human attitude about the angels is largely fearing, anxious. This attitude accentuated itself through a sometimes nervous soundscape. Of observing these weird, ghastly creatures as they creep and swim. And the feeling’s mutual. The problem is that we don’t know.

But here? We do know.

When the JSSDF move in, the anxiety of angels graduates to the full-force dread of creatures that have killed before. The greatest enemy to humanity has always been with them all along, forcing them to a catch-22. The dread falls on Maya because she understands this perfectly. NERV has only ever shot at targets rather than living flesh…

...and SEELE knows this.

SEELE’s slow, but sure suppression of NERV’s budget is kicking a man while he’s down, but the man in question is a child instead. The JSSDF have more than enough firepower, calling it overkill goes beyond an understatement.

The JSSDF demonstrate the lack of remorse further with the discovery of Third Child, Shinji Ikari. One of the members presses the barrel to Shinji’s head before Misato steps in and kills the members.

The JSSDF isn’t the only damning evidence of how ugly members of humanity can be, however.

Humanity’s on-occasion grossness shows itself in small ways throughout the series, in dislike and conscious emotional distance for individuals, or beliefs of the angels being unintelligent and/or savage. Other times it manifests fiscally, in orchestrating more ethical approaches to stopping certain destruction to go seemingly haywire in order for NERV to receive more funding. This all due to a rival company of NERV challenging the very idea for its usage of child soldiers.

The worst of this damning fact is that many of the morally repugnant members exist on a higher echelon of society. There are Gendos running around, doing as they so please and they’re the tip of their echelon iceberg.

XIX. The Ultimate Paradox of Evangelion

“Anywhere can be paradise as long as you have the will to live.”

We’re treated to these words as Shinji finds himself on shores surrounded by an isolate hellscape, with Asuka next to him. The strange and altogether horrific nature of End of Evangelion has gotten fans  believing on End of Evangelion’s endgame was in certain, nihilistic. But Eva dipping its hand in the likelihood of meaning in the existentially meaningless isn’t even the ultimate terror of Eva’s self-aware universe, nor is it the tendency for man to become contemptible towards itself.

Evangelion greatest terror is the paradoxical nature of free will.

Yui’s words to her son as she drifts off into the ever-expanding cosmos, her status as a deity realized, is that paradise is universal. EoE assumes this unconventionally positive approach to a whole series worth of characters’ woes. The issue is: finding paradise is ultimately conditional.

Free Will’s paradoxical nature is what gives credence to the ongoing Free Will vs. Determinism dilemma. People can use their free will to take away yours entirely and this is most evident with Rei. Her existence is the result of a man’s unhealthy attachment to his wife, her lack of self-preservation the result of being conditioned as a multi-purpose vessel; her desire to merge with Lilith to become an omnipresent mother-figure was not hers. The nature of disallowing free will exists on a spectrum, as people can use their free will not to take away the whole of others’ freedoms, but to disallow them proper emotional growth. The adults around Asuka weren’t around for her during the series, leading to her eventual downfall.

Unit-01, throughout much of the second part of EoE holds the power to give or deny people’s physicality due to her status of having both Fruits of Life (the s2 engine held by angels) and Wisdom (from the Lance of Longinus merged with the Eva earlier on). This gives Unit-01 her deity status and while within Lilith-Rei, Shinji realizes that not everyone would be there in his life, that he can’t be in the center of others’ lives. It’s for that reason why he denies people’s physicality (“They can all just die.”), which turns people into LCL.

Shinji gives allows people the ability to come back from Instrumentality after realization arises that without other people, there’s no way to tell if Shinji, himself exists or not. Kaworu and Rei also give him the reality that with people back, pain will become an inevitability once more. With all the souls gathered by Lilith-Rei, they are released after her death.

With the souls of those cast into Instrumentality dispersed, those turned into LCL now hold the ability to come back from Instrumentality if they so choose.

While the idea of anywhere being paradise rings true, it’s not entirely satisfying to say that EoE is unconventional in its uplifting message to the viewer. Evangelion is at its core a cautionary tale. It warns the viewer into extensions of empathy and openness that others would properly live. This goes double for those with power. Without that compassion, we’ll have Asukas, Misatos, Ristukos, as well as Reis, those in the world whose downfalls come from emotional absences, neglect, objectification, and forced baggage. We would have Shinjis, those wanting to be at the nexus of others’ importance because they were deprived while young.

Kindness is a powerful thing and the lack of compassion present in all of Eva implicates most everyone. It leads to yet more abusive cycles, with the only thing breaking that cycle being a hand for those in need.

XX. Conclusion

What more can be said over this juggernaut which is a host to a bevvy of darkness? Evangelion is testament that anxieties and horror don’t need to start out as blatantly shocking or visceral to make an impact years down the line. They also don’t need to be out in the open to initially hook you either. You pick up on a few anxieties as well as horrors and you realize deep down, there must be more, which drives many of us to engage in this often times unabashedly dark source material.

Some of us are doing it later in the throes of adolescences, others are doing so well into their 20s, possibly dipping into their 30s. Point is, it draws in a lot of us and for a lot of us, it doesn’t ever let go.

Some of its charm could be chalked to the visceral ways in which characters interact. Even after years of re-watches, I’m still learning new things about the child soldiers, and I’m quite sure there’s others finding small details. There’s also the possibility of Eva’s approach to terror. I think Evangelion “humanized” its horror. It didn’t make horror a universally human feeling, but made it so that the true big bads looking to cause apocalypse weren’t actually the eldritch. Many of the angels are more or less lost kids looking for their mother (I still think Ramiel’s “singing” in episode 5 was it calling for its mother!).

With those newer details after 20+ years, there will be more added to the iceberg. Hell, there should be more added to the iceberg. This iceberg is the tip of an even greater iceberg. I’m still learning about their adults and their desires as well, how cyclical their actions are. For others, the draw-in factor lies in its low budget. Personally, it’s all of these for me: the low budget helped cement these darker aspects of the series due to horror and the genre’s overall relationship with limitation. It works best on limitation and had Eva worked with a much higher budget, I don’t think the content would be as effective, or perhaps it’d be much more difficult to make it so.

Evangelion is such a well-done, deceptively compact series that each lens a fan assumes has its own interesting rabbit hole. Your circumstance shapes the experience, and this too involves how you navigate the series’ menagerie of terrors.

I’d also like to thank the reader for getting through the largest rabbit hole in Evangelion. I’d also like to thank you for getting through the whole of this meta from a fan who slowly began to resonate with the characters as the years went on!

[diavolosthots]

Hello♡ I'd like to request a small fic where Diavolo is finally invited out on a fun activity. The boy is always so lonely and busy he needs time to relax! Maybe shopping with MC or just a walk in the park. Just some wholesome fun for the lonely man. ♡♡ thank you.

He is lonely boy but not with me around ! 😤😤😤 also I kinda came up with a separate idea

You Got a Friend in Me (DIAVOLO X GN!READER)

The rules were simple: Diavolo is to draw from a hat that had several folded pieces of paper in it, all of which have different activities written on them. Things like hiking, stargazing, going to the club, making homemade pizza, having a movie marathon, among other things have all been taken into consideration and you hoped Diavolo would choose one that he actually liked. “You can only pick one but if you absolutely hate it then tell me so we can switch it out.” He’s honestly just excited that anyone is willing to spend time with him so even if it was something that wasn’t quite up his alley, he would still do it because it came from you, a very considerate and kind person, and because it will get him out and about. Barbatos approved all the fun activities first hand so Diavolo knows it can’t be anything terribly bad. Although, you did find it weird that Barbatos had to monitor what you wrote down? Did he actually think you’d put Diavolo in danger? Something tells you that even the thought of putting the future King in danger could get you executed and you’re not too keen on that. 

“Did you get one?” He’s had his hand stuck in that little hat for ages now and you were growing just a tiny bit impatient from it, but he only laughed a bit before jumping on his feet once. “I have to make sure it’s the right one! Feel it out a bit!” But then he pulls his hand out, holding one of the folded pieces of paper with a grin on his face before wiggling his eyebrows at you, “I feel like this is the one…. I’m so excited! I wonder what it is?” You rolled your eyes, although you were smiling. His happiness was truly contagious and you can’t help but be just as curious as him. The hat was put on the table before you moved a bit closer and urged Diavolo to unfold the tiny piece of paper, nudging his arm a bit, “open it!” And he did, but oh so slowly. He’s messing with you at this point but whatever, you had all day and you’re sure the demon just loved the idea of free time and potentially getting away from the castle, depending on the paper he chose, but you also wouldn’t mind staying inside. 

“Make ice cream cones for each other….” He’s reading it with less excitement than you would have hoped but your own excitement started to show and you quickly snatched the paper from his hands and then jumped up in front of him with a grin, “yes!! You like ice cream right?! Great!” You didn’t even give him time to answer before grabbing his hand and dragging him off to the castle’s kitchen where Barbatos already had several pints of ice cream flavors laid out. Sneaky butler and his stupid ability to look into the future, but whatever. Diavolo started to smile behind you although he doesn’t fully see yet how this could be exciting. You seemed happy though, so that made this a little bit better. “Okay, so! Basically you and I are going to take one of these…. “ You turned around and pointed at Barbatos who pulled out two waffle cones but instead of cones they were in the shape of boats. Clever, right? “And we’re going to take these flavors of ice cream and some of the candies to decorate and basically make an ice cream boat that represents us. So I will make one that I believe represents you and you’ll make one that you believe represents me! I made sure it’s human world ice cream since Barbatos couldn’t guarantee that Devildom ice cream won’t kill me.” You smiled sheepishly, handing him one of the waffle boats before stepping back. 

“So your station is over there and mine is here. We all have the same ice cream flavors and the same candies for decoration. You can try some of them if you’re unsure on what they are but… have fun with it, okay? And after we exchange boats, we can eat them!” Seriously, how is this not exciting? Diavolo was still staring at his waffle boat, trying to comprehend everything you told him. “So… I’ll make an ice cream boat that I think represents you…. Got it.” He’s just mumbling and acting kind of serious but not because he thinks it’s lame or he wishes he would have picked something else, no. “Okay. But mine will be better than yours, (Y/N).” He grins at you and you couldn’t help but grin back, adding a wink too. “We’ll see about that, hot shot.” A soft blush was tinting his cheeks when you winked at him and he quickly turned around to start looking at the ice cream flavors. 

To you, the best part about this is that you can let your creativity flow and also eat it afterward. You get to work and be rewarded immediately after. This is definitely a win-win situation, at least in your eyes. Diavolo reminds you of fun times and way too many responsibilities that you’d rather hand to someone else, like Lucifer! So you decided to build a little man. You started with three scoops of raspberry ice cream on the bottom of the boat before stacking it with one pistachio and one cotton candy before topping it off with one scoop of chocolate. It made you smile because it’s so colorful but also somewhat serious with the raspberry and chocolate. An idea for using M&Ms as eyes and pretzels as arms came into your mind and of course you used airhead extremes as a tongue because Diavolo is a silly man. One Reese's cup was used as a hat because if anyone would wear something silly, it’s him. Lastly, you filled the boat with gummy bears and more M&Ms before taking a piece of a twizzler and using it to make a smile. “I’m done! How is yours going?”

Diavolo honestly thought this was kind of silly at first but you seemed happy so he did his best. “One moment….” He’s been trying some of the candy because he was unsure what all of them were. Some were good and others he secretly spit out again, but now he has finished his masterpiece as well and proudly holds it up, turning around to look at you, “Here. Do you like it?” He managed to do something similar to yours, kind of. He filled the bottom with pretzels to kind of imitate grass before making a little person. He used vanilla, orange, strawberry, and lemon ice cream on his because you remind him of bright, happy days and he likes it like that. For the eyes he used blue M&Ms and a piece of a twizzler for the smile, just like you. However, he also used some of the twizzler to make something that resembles hair and then he managed to make a little bouquet of flowers that the ice cream you is holding. Pretzels, marshmallows and skittles go a long way, you know? 

“Wow… wait… that’s… I love it.” You smiled happily and stepped closer before looking at him sheepishly. “I chose some of the colors based on your every day life…. You always look so happy but you also have so much responsibility, which is why I used some of the darker ice cream colors like chocolate and raspberry… but there’s still brightness and love inside so those are the brighter colors. And then you’re really silly so I gave you a hat and a long tongue with the candy. I kind of ran out on what I should do with the bottom but… I hope you like M&Ms.” Your words touched him in a weird way. No one ever pays attention to him outside of what they need to pay attention to, but you managed to make a whole ice cream sculpture of what you view him as and that makes him feel super special. “Thank you…” and he actually leans down to kiss your head before pulling back with a smile and handing you the boat he made before taking his own. “You’re always bright and happy, too, which is why I used only the bright ice cream colors. I don’t know what they are but they look like they represent fun and excitement, which is what I get when I’m with you. The stick thingies on the bottom are supposed to be grass…. And then you’re holding a little bouquet because every wonderful person deserves flowers… I do hope I got your hair right, though.”

You giggled a bit, holding the boat up higher and then looking at it with a smile, nodding. “I love it. Thanks…. I really hope you like your ice cream boat. Do you want to eat them? And then you can maybe pull something else from the hat since this wasn’t super exciting.” But Diavolo shook his head, snorting a bit before wrapping an arm around you and pulling you in tightly, making sure that the boats didn’t get crushed, “Please do tell me you’re joking. No one has ever done something so extraordinary, yet so silly with me. I would love to eat them with you.” Honestly when you’re so close to him and he’s showing gratitude and happiness, how can you say no? You pulled back just enough to lean up and kiss his cheek before setting your boat down and going off to find some spoons. “We should take a picture with them before we eat them…” “Actually…. They’re missing one more thing.” you turned back around to look at Diavolo confused but as soon as you did, he sprayed a huge chunk of whipped cream on your head and then your lips before leaning down and licking it off of them. 

“I knew it. Your lips do make everything taste better.” 

[nejibaby]

The Sun

Pairing: Portgas D. Ace x Reader

Summary: If there’s two things common between you and Icarus, they’re 1) you both tried to get too close to the sun, and 2) you’re both mortal — vulnerable and susceptible to the pain that comes with it.

This is initially intended to be the second part of Burn, but this can also be considered a standalone fic. 😊

[I also tweaked the story of Icarus and Daedalus a little bit so they can fit the One Piece universe. Hope you don’t mind.]

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: So you see I’m trying out this new writing style, but I’m not sure if it turned out how I wanted it to be. But please let me know your thoughts about it~

Icarus.

Back when you still lived in your hometown, as a child, you have grown to like the tales of sailors who docked at your island. There’s this story about one of the first ever heard of uses of devil fruit powers.

It’s about a master craftsman named Daedalus imprisoned in some far away kingdom with his son, Icarus. With their cell up high in the castle and the ground filled with guards, there was no means to escape for an average person. But Daedalus was all sorts of things other than average; he’s a father, a genius, and a devil fruit user of the Doru Doru no Mi. And because of those, he has found a way to get out of the kingdom through something that only he can make: wings made out of candle wax.

“Don’t fly too close to the sun or else the heat will melt the wax and you’ll fall into the sea.” A fair warning from Daedalus to Icarus as he handed a pair of wings to his son, who only nodded in response.

Their escape went on without a hitch with the help of the wings. However, because of the delectable taste of freedom, the further away they had gone from the kingdom that constricted them, the more precarious Icarus got. He flew higher and higher and higher, until his wings started melting. And only when he was falling to the sea did he notice that the wings had melted off completely. Even Daedalus had noticed it too late, and all he could’ve done was lament for his son who didn’t heed his words.

“It was tragic,” the sailor once told you. But all you could ever think about back then was that Icarus was dumb. Foolish. Idiotic. Stupid. Moronic.

Why would he fly higher when he knew the risks? It just didn’t make sense. There was no rational explanation, no sensible justification for it.

But now that you’re older, you might have found a possible reason why he did what he did.

Maybe, just like you, he fell in love with the sun.

The Sun.

Icarus might have fallen in love with the sun. But who are you to judge him? The sun is bright, brilliant, warm, and enticing. You couldn’t blame him for wanting to be guided by its light, to bask in its warmth, to ever so gently be caressed by its flames. You couldn’t blame him for wanting to be nearer, despite the repercussions.

You can’t call him out because you did just the same. Ace was — no — is your sun.

With his charming and boyish smile that’s always capable of cheering you up, you can mistake him as the light. He’s like the sun peeking from the clouds after a stormy day, or the sun rising after the darkest night.

In his embrace, no matter how momentary, anyone would be able to feel his care. Hell, even with his arm slung over your shoulder or his mere presence beside you, you would feel a sense of security. Because Ace is also the warmth and the comfort. Pretty much like the gentle rays of the sun enveloping you with a blanket after a cold breeze.

But you also know that like the sun, he too is dangerous. The least he can do is to burn you. And at the very worst, he could be destructive.

The Fall.

When Icarus got too close to the sun, his wings melted and naturally, he fell into the sea. There were no stories about how he felt or what was in his mind when it happened, but recently you’d like to imagine that he was content.

Falling is scary, that much is true. But falling can also be exhilarating and thrilling — it’s feeling only your weightlessness, the breathlessness, the adrenaline flowing through your blood.

You’d like to think that as Icarus fell, his thoughts were about how he did not regret what he did. In the end, he got his freedom and then he made a brave choice of going after his love. Isn’t it better to have felt the burning light than never at all? Isn’t it better to have a taste of love albeit briefly?

You’re no Icarus. You’re not a child of a genius, and you have no wings that’ll melt once you get close to your sun. But for you, the answer to these questions is yes.

You’re grateful to have experienced being by Ace’s side. You’re happy to have seen his smiles and to have heard his laughs. You’re content to have been the recipient of his sparing touches.

And as you ran with bloodied hands and injured parts after escaping from the Blackbeard Pirates, you’re pleased that it was you in this predicament and not Ace. He’s safe and it’s because of you. And despite standing face to face with death just moments ago, you’re delighted because you accomplished your mission to get information about their plans.

If there’s one thing you and Icarus should regret though, it’s being vulnerable and susceptible to pain.

The Reunion.

Icarus did not live long enough to be reunited with the sun. But you did. Your body might have been littered with scars now, but the important thing is that you survived. You’re alive, you’re healed, and you’re at peace.

And you’re back with the Whitebeard Pirates.

Whitebeard, the Division Commanders, and the former members of the Spade pirates are quick to reprimand you for your rash actions once you board the ship. You listen to their sentiments quietly, understanding the severity of your decision, but you stand by your ground, telling them you didn’t regret doing it, especially since you’ve gotten valuable information about Blackbeard. And once you’ve relayed everything to them, they all quickly let you off the hook.

All except one, of course.

You’re just about to retire to your room when Ace softly asks, “Yo, can we talk?” once you pass him by.

The sun is always so inviting. It’s capable of luring you out of whatever cave you’re hiding in. That’s the aura Ace gives off when you turn to look at him. So you nod your head and follow him to a more private area on the ship.

At this moment, you can’t help but think that the sun and the planets are bound by the laws of science. Science tells us that planets orbit around the sun because of attraction, however, they must never cross the line. This has been your mistake in the past, but now you know better. And so now you try to physically distance yourself from him.

Ace doesn’t comment on the distance. You aren’t sure if he even noticed. Instead he asks, “Why did you do it?”

You raise your brow, “We wanted information, right?”

“I was the one who should’ve been doing that. I’m his Commander. I’m the one who’s supposed to be responsible for that.”

You scoff. “It’s done now, let’s not dwell on it anymore—”

“But you could’ve died!”

“So what? Would you rather it was you? Because I don’t! If you died… if you died…” you choked back a sob. You didn’t want to think about him dying. Just the thought of it is enough to tug your heartstrings.

The sight of you softens him up right away. “Hey, hey, hey,” he tries soothing you. “I’m not gonna die.”

“You say that, but even the sun will die eventually. And I don’t want to witness that tragedy.”

This shuts Ace up. He didn’t really understand how much he matters to you until now. Seeing you crumble with just the thought of him dying makes him realize that your confession to him before the two of you parted was indeed the truth. “You’re right. I’m sorry…”

You could only bite your lip to calm yourself down.

“I’ve done a lot of thinking when you were away…” Ace murmurs. “And my thoughts were always about you.”

You gulp as your heart rate accelerates. Will he be turning you down properly this time? Give you the confirmation and closure that you need?

If you focus on your thoughts, you can hear a chant in your head: The sun will prioritize light over love. The sun will prioritize light over love. The sun will prioritize light over love.

But you reason, that’s okay. The sun is bound by the laws of science and one of its main purposes for its existence is to provide light. And you will not hold Ace back from doing that. If he doesn’t love you, it’s fine, you’ll be fine.

“I thought… you didn’t like me,” Ace says.

This statement catches your attention immediately. You’re about to object but he continues, “Because you always called me ‘Captain’ and then ‘Commander,’ and never by my name. And I thought that that was you drawing the line between us.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I’m not good at these things,” he chuckles, trying to lighten the mood.

But you remain tense, trying to comprehend what’s happening.

Ace takes a small step toward you.

And you couldn’t help but think that if Ace gets closer, you’ll burn once again.

Yet you watch with wide eyes, not stopping him as he gets closer and closer and closer.

At this point you can only hear how wildly your heart is beating across your chest.

And when Ace raises his hand to tenderly touch your cheek, you realize: The sun’s rays do not burn until brought to a focus.

Which could only mean one thing: his focus has always been on you.

“I love you, my angel,” Ace whispers as he presses his forehead against yours. “I’m in love with you,” and he seals his admission with a kiss.

[ladyartemesia]

•▨ The Choice ▨•

• ▨ ▨ ▨ ▨ • ▨ ▨ ▨ ▨ •

Pairing: Bastard Prince Min Yoongi x Virgin Reader

Genre: Fairytale/Fantasy AU • Smut • Fluff • Angst

Word Count: 7300

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. MINORS PROHIBITED. I DO NOT CONSENT TO ANY INTERACTIONS WITH PERSONS UNDER THE AGE OF 18. NO EXCEPTIONS.

Rating and Warnings: (M) for mature themes, innuendo, and sexual content • injury • loss of virginity • mention of a side character being too rough with his lovers • 

Special Thanks: A huge hug and a ton of love goes out to my FIRST EVER beta reader (and tiger king wife) @xjoonchildx​. • Also thank you to (my other tiger king wife) @ppersonna​ and (actual angel) @joonglows​ for giving fabulous encouragement and listening to me whine. 

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a lady born of fire and light

within her blood runs holy might

she must forge her lover’s throne

destroy what once was set in stone

her maidenhead shall be the sign

For from her springs the true king’s line

First Prophecy of the Current Age, Kingdom of Norlandria

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“My lady... I think you may have the wrong room.”

The cloaked figure seated serenely on his favorite chair - in his bedchamber - simply tilted her head.

“No,” your lips twitched in subtle amusement, “I am exactly where I meant to be.”

Yoongi’s eyes widened.

“Here? You meant to be here - in the bastard prince’s sleeping quarters?”

“Yes.”

Your eyes met his with cool defiance. Yoongi felt his body stir in response - as it always did when you were near.

Gods this is a dangerous woman.

His hands clenched into fists.

“My lady -” he emphasized your title deliberately, “you cannot be here.”

“And why is that, Min Yoongi?”

It’s been years since he heard his name on your lips and he was utterly unprepared for the effect of it - utterly unprepared for the sharp shot of pleasure twisting low in his belly or the heat that curled up his spine. 

Only the dull fingernails digging painfully into his palm kept his reactions in check.

“Have you forgotten who and what you are?”

Emotion flared in your eyes for the briefest moment.

“No. I have not forgotten.”

Yoongi crossed his arms, leaning back against his large wooden wardrobe with a dismissive scoff.

“Clearly you have, so it falls upon me to remind you that - as the only daughter of our high priest - a child of prophecy - and the sacred virgin bride of the future king - my brother - you have no business-”

“I am not here for your brother,” your voice cracked like a whip, cutting off his condescending tirade with pointed intent, “I am here for you.”

Yoongi felt the deep stirrings of fury boil up in his blood. He stormed forward, slamming his fist on the desk beside you.

“Is this a trap?!” he growled viciously, “Some sort of elaborate ruse cooked up by my brother to lure me into treason?”

“No-”

“Then are you trying to get us killed?!”

“Yoongi - please - listen-” you reached out to grab his sleeve, but he was too fast. He caught your bare wrist in his hand and you both froze.

It was the first time he had ever truly touched you.

It was the first time anyone but your parents and your handmaidens had ever truly touched you.

Gods she’s soft.

The thought flashed through Yoongi’s mind before he could stop it, stoking his anger all the more.

He swore loudly and yanked his hand away.

“Do you not comprehend that even being in the same room with you alone is a death sentence? You cannot come to my quarters in the middle of the night wearing -” the words choked in his throat as his eyes dropped below your neck- “spirits and saints preserve me - WHAT are you wearing?”

“A nightgown.”

“I can see it’s a nightgown woman - er my lady - but the fabric-”

You nodded pleasantly, “It’s the finest in all the land.”

Yoongi opened his mouth. Closed it. Then opened it again.

“It’s completely see-through.”

“And yet,” your eyes danced with warm amusement, “you have not looked away.”

It was true. 

He hated himself for it, but saints he was mesmerized. Sheer silk danced over your skin with every breath, caressing and revealing the forbidden curves of your body in a way that left his hands aching to explore them.

“Why are you doing this?” he whispered. 

The question was quiet - pained-  

Almost hurt. 

His eyes darted across your form and face with naked longing, drawing you in like a siren song.

Utterly forbidden... but still so brutally sweet.  

Min Yoongi was notorious in many circles for his fierce gaze and callous demeanor... yet he was never able to fully tame his reaction to you. 

He tried though. He always tried.

Even the most careful observer could barely hear the hitch in his breath when you passed, or note the way his gaze lingered on your face just a second longer than any other.

Now, however, with nothing but a hint of silk and the soft glow of firelight in the intimate space between you, your effect on him was far harder to conceal.

What would it take to break this man?

A lone shiver twisted lazily up your spine. 

Focus. 

This is the last step. The final piece. 

And all of it depended on him.

“Do you remember that summer 5 years ago?… I was seventeen - finally allowed to accompany my father on a hunting party.” You smiled as if you were discussing the weather and not an event that radically altered the course of your life. “I was so excited… I’d never been to Old Forest and it was only the third time I’d met your brother... He was so handsome I could scarcely speak…”

Yoongi’s fingers twitched reflexively against his shirtsleeves. Of course he remembered that day. 

Part of him relived it every time he closed his eyes. 

“When that boar charged my mare and she bolted through the woods, I held on for as long as I could, but I was still thrown... The impact was terrible, but I’d scarcely begun to pull myself upright when I heard the boar charging… and then...”

Your voice tapered off as you lost yourself in the memory. 

“You saved me.”

A man with dark eyes and wild midnight hair suddenly landed between you and the boar. The bow in his hand bent sharply as he slotted two arrows, drawing them back till their feathered tips brushed his lips. 

For the barest instant his gaze darted into yours - shocking your body with a sharp, strange heat. 

Then he fired. One arrow into each of the boar’s eyes - 

A nearly impossible shot. 

The stranger was by your side in an instant - but you could not look away from the gruesome corpse behind him-

“Are you hurt, my lady?” 

Fear and adrenaline beat heavily in your chest, blotting out sound and sensation- 

“My lady!”

Strong hands wrapped around your shoulders, startling you from your daze. People simply did not touch you - not even over your clothes. Warmth spread from his palms, curling through your arms and neck like a caress; drawing you safely back to the forest. 

Back to him.

Saints he was magnificent. 

Eyes like onyx peered into yours with tender concern. Sweat and dirt marred his smooth pale skin, but the sunlight flashing hypnotically over the rings on his fingers and the bright silver earrings dangling from each ear lent him an almost magical aura.

Curious new sensations hummed to life beneath your skin.

“Who are you?” 

The corner of his mouth quirked ever so slightly.

“Min Yoongi.”

“Min Yoongi...” The name struck a familiar chord. “You’re - you’re prince Aurengi’s older brother - the bas-”

“The bastard prince,” he finished for you - his eyes and tone markedly colder than before.

“That’s odd,” you mused with a shy smile “You don’t look like a wicked despoiler of innocents.”

Yoongi threw his head back and laughed.

“Ah well - it's my day off you see. I left my lecherous horns and sinful mask of debauchery at home”

You grinned.

“No wonder I didn’t recognize you.”

Yoongi’s horse had run off and your attempts to walk unassisted were fruitless which left you both in a rather delicate situation… 

Royal law explicitly forbade any man to touch you skin to skin.

Initially you urged the prince to leave you and return with help, but Yoongi dismissed that idea in favor of wrapping his neck in cloth (from one of your many underskirts) and carefully lifting you into his arms. 

You’d never been in a man’s arms before and frankly it was downright exhilarating. You would have willingly broken both legs to experience it. The curl of his bicep under your knees - the warmth of his chest pressed intimately to yours-

Your fingers itched to feel the texture of his hair where it curled softly over his nape…

Hopefully he would attribute your erratic breathing to the near miss with the boar and not his delicious proximity. 

Sighing, you allowed your gaze to roam over the exotic slope of his eyes and the sharp cut of his jaw all the way up to the intricate silver ornaments at his ear. They appeared quite strange and foriegn to your inexperienced eye. No men and very few women in the kingdom favored such adornments. 

“Why do you wear the earrings?”

Yoongi tipped his head a bit to offer you a small indulgent smile. You tried very hard not to swoon. 

“My mother… she was an Eastrili”

Your eyes widened. 

Eastril was an ancient kingdom - far older than Norlandria - whose borders were the limit of your experience with the outside world. The Eastrili were known for their rich cultural ties to ritual magic; the elaborate piercings and intricate designs inked into their skin set them apart from their less spiritual neighbors. 

“Have you ever been there?” 

You were practically burning with curiosity, but the prince shook his head. 

“No… My mother was a warrior. When Norlandria invaded Great Bay, she was captured as a prisoner of war.”

Your eyes widened even further at that.

The Battle of Great Bay was infamous to both Norlandria and Eastril. The conflict lasted nearly twelve days with catastrophic loss of life on both sides-

Until Eastril’s beloved princess was slain on the field. 

The shock of her death forced an immediate cease-fire. Technically the two countries were still ‘at war’... but since the loss of the princess there had been an uneasy - unofficial - peace.  

“Was she there? Did -did she see the princess die?”

Yoongi’s jaw worked reflexively - as if he was carefully considering his next words,

“She served directly under the princess, but would never speak of her death or of Eastril. I believe the memories were too painful.”

“So…” your mind followed his words to their logical conclusion, “they’re her earrings. Your mother’s.” 

“They’re all I have left of her really. The piercings of an Eastrili are sacred - so much so that Norlandria and Soutmar have signed Articles of War promising never to remove them from Eastrili prisoners.”

“They suit you,” you spoke suddenly - and then immediately wished you were dead because saints you had said that out loud-

Yoongi laughed and you smiled up at him sheepishly.

It could have been minutes or hours of engaging conversation and playful banter before the pointed towers of the royal hunting lodge finally came into view. Yoongi had just finished handing you to you father (who’d come rushing through the iron gate looking frantic) when he found a blade pressed against his chin.

“How dare you put your filthy mongrel hands on my fiance-” 

The crown prince’s snarl dripped with palpable malice.

Yoongi didn't move. His eyes flew to yours, but that only seemed to enrage Aurengi further.

“Don’t look at her,” he growled, driving his sword infinitesimally harder into his brother’s flesh.

‘STOP!” 

Both princes sported nearly identical expressions of shock as you scrambled from your father’s hold to lunge awkwardly between them.

Clearly neither one expected you to intervene and the surprise on Yoongi’s face was almost heartbreaking.

“He never touched me! He saved me. That boar would have killed me if not for him.”

Deafening silence followed your breathless declaration. 

In any other situation, your father would have expressed his immediate gratitude, but the crown prince’s open hatred of his elder brother had the man holding his tongue.

Your jaw clenched in fury. 

“Min Yoongi!” Your eyes locked with Aurengi’s as you called out his brother’s name. “I require a token.”

Gasps echoed across the chamber in all directions. Aurengi’s eyes widened. You could not see Yoongi’s face, but you heard him stiffen behind you,

The token ritual was a sacred custom among your people. When any man or woman saved the life of another - the person spared requested a token from their savior. The token was a reminder of the service rendered. In a time of great need, the savior could call on a token holder for aid ...and he or she was bound to give it. 

“I cannot grant you a token for doing my duty.” 

The words whispered quietly across your back. Beside you, your father visibly relaxed, and for the first time in your life- you were ashamed of him.

“No.” The word rang out with fierce conviction as you turned to face him. “You would not dishonor me by refusing my request...Your Highness.”

Yoongi’s expression remained carefully neutral, but the impact of your statement was not lost on him. No one ever addressed him by his title in his brother’s presence. 

Aurengi hissed angrily behind you, but you ignored his antics and defiantly held out your hand.

Slowly - as if in a daze - Yoongi reached up to the braided metal dangling from his right ear. Your mouth parted in surprise.

His mother’s earring.

The young prince’s fingers hesitated for the briefest moment before he dropped the precious keepsake into your hand.

Yoongi’s eyes drifted unconsciously to the treasure he’d given you all those years ago.

You had not taken it off since that day. 

He almost couldn’t believe it when he saw you - nearly two years later-  with his token hooked into your skin for the world to see. It enraged Aurengi that you insisted on wearing it - knowing full well it was the mark of his bastard brother.

A mark you both wore proudly.

His hand stretched toward the familiar metal braids almost of its own volition - brushing the delicate links against his fingertips before pulling away from you once more. 

“I was only doing my duty,” he whispered - an echo of his words so many years ago “You should not read too much into such things.”

“And the letters?” you asked. “Were they your duty too?”

Yoongi paled.

“Letters?”

His tone was deceptively even. An amused smile tugged at your lips. 

“My letters,” you sighed, casually slipping the velvet cloak off your shoulders - removing the last barrier between his gaze and the diaphanous slip draped decadently over your skin.

Every nerve in Yoongi’s body fired chaotically - all at once. 

Spirits and saints have mercy.

You were here - in his room - soft and inviting in a way he had only ever dared dream about - and even then none too frequently because such tempting thoughts about the woman he wanted so desperately, but would never have were needlessly masochistic. And now here you were - beckoning to him like the ancient sirens - so glorious in their draw - yet so deadly in their embrace-

It was far more than he was prepared to handle. 

His eyes flew closed in a fruitless bid for self preservation. There wasn’t nearly enough blood left in his head to produce coherent human speech, still he was quite ready to beg you - for the love of all the gods - to please stop tormenting him and let him live out the rest of his wretched solitary existence in peace, but you spoke again before he could find the words.

“The letters I’ve been forced to write every week since my thirteenth birthday... letters to Aurengi which he pawned off to his steward - and somehow… found their way to you.”

“You’re mistaken” he muttered - turning away from you to hide the havoc in his mind and body 

It took every ounce of self control you possessed not to openly revel in his reaction - both to your words and your daring negligee.

“Hoseok is a good man,” you whispered after a moment. “He may be your brother’s steward, but he was your friend first and his loyalty lies with you.”

Yoongi carded his fingers through his hair in an attempt to ground himself again. 

“How could you know that?”

“His wife, Ana, was a handmaiden before she became a lady in waiting. She noticed my letter in the tray on Hoseok’s desk. Later she watched you retrieve it…” 

A tender smile crept over your face at the thought of your fierce (though outwardly serene) former handmaiden and the man wrapped securely around her finger.

“Hobi is quite besotted enough to tell her anything she asks.”

Yoongi wished - fervently - that he didn’t completely understand. 

He gulped reflexively. 

“How long…?”

“I’ve known I was writing to you for three years. Though... there were hints before that. Aurengi clearly wasn’t reading my letters, he never understood any reference to them I made in conversation. But the gifts he sent me - gifts I assume he expected Hoseok to take care of like everything else - those could only have come from someone who read my words - someone who knew me-” 

A sudden swell of emotion twisted heavily in your chest, “They could only have come from you.”

Yoongi would have traded his best horse to be anywhere else. He felt vulnerable  - betrayed - exposed. The familiar desire to lash out and defend his innate sanctity bucked frantically against his fraying control.

Yet as he turned to rage at you-  he found himself simply offering the truth...

“I never receive letters.” His eyes remained fixed on the floor - carefully avoiding your gaze.  “I was visiting Hoseok one day... and he was frustrated because Aurengi refused to read yours. He’d ordered Hoseok to go through them all and let him know if there was anything important.” 

Yoongi shook his head and breathed out a bitter chuckle. 

“There were stacks of them just sitting there - stacks of letters for my arrogant brother from the woman he was going to spend his life with.... and he couldn’t even be bothered to open them.”

He swallowed convulsively-  acutely aware of your eyes on him and of the unprecedented vulnerability he was allowing.

“I don’t know what made me do it… perhaps curiosity -or jealousy that my brother was already guaranteed companionship when I was always-” his jaw clenched, “so lonely.”

The prince’s eyes finally rose to meet yours.

“You were… such a surprise. The letters were vivid...engaging - filled with intelligence and personality and I was... fascinated by you.” 

His hands clenched reflexively.

“When I learned that you would be coming on the hunt that year, I joined so I could catch a glimpse of the woman from those letters.” 

Yoongi would never forget the first time he saw you…

Laughing with your face tilted into the rays of the sun. 

He had never experienced anything so acutely bittersweet.

You were the answer to a question he had quietly asked all his life.

And yet he would never know you. You would never be his. 

He determined then and there to ignore you for the sake of his own sanity, but when your horse suddenly tore off into the forest, Yoongi felt the world itself ground to a halt. The other hunters were courtiers and aides - they wouldn’t know how to safely retrieve you, but he’d grown up racing stablehands through the trees - engaging in the kind of deadly recklessness young men seemed to be known for. He was ironically grateful for those idiotic antics as he spurred his mount after yours.

Even then, he was almost too late. 

“I never expected to save you or give you my token, I certainly never expected you to wear it…”

“And you kept reading my letters.”

“I felt like you deserved to be heard,” the words slipped out almost absently - as if he had not meant to speak them aloud. 

Your quiet gasp instantly set him back on edge. 

“After all” his tone was cooler now - without a trace of his former vulnerability, “you were kind to me and you will be queen one day- my dear brother’s wife - it's the least I can do - for family.”

“Family!?” you scoffed, “Is that what we are?”

“We are nothing, my lady. I am the king’s bastard son and you are the fulfillment of a centuries-old prophecy-”

“Yes. The prophecy,” you sighed wearily. “How could I forget-” 

“- which clearly states you will have one lover - the heir - the crown prince - so if anyone were to see you here - in my bedchamber wearing-” (his eyes dipped briefly below your chin) “-that - it would mean death- certainly my death, possibly yours too - and not just any death - the long-drawn-out painful kind-”

“Do not presume to tell me what the prophecy states. I’ve lived my entire life in the shadow of those words! They’re all anyone ever sees when they look at me-”

“That’s not true-”

“It is true! That prophesy bound me to Aurengi before I drew my first breath!”

Yoongi’s eyes closed in pain.

Your hands fisted into the fabric of your gown.

“I’ve seen the women who stumble out of your brother’s chambers… Their bodies are battered and their spirits broken. His taste in bedsport feeds on fear and violence, They are not his lovers...they are his victims. There is neither love nor trust in his dealings with them.” 

You took a deep breath, closing the distance between you till you stood directly in front of him. 

“Aurengi leverages his power over them just as he will someday leverage his power over our kingdom - over me.” 

“No.” Yoongi growled. His hands wrapped around the soft flesh of your arm- dragging you just short of fully against him

“Yes,” you fired back bitterly. He was close enough to feel the word against his lips. 

“They’ve all spent years preserving my sacred virginity so they can hand my body and soul over to that despicable animal. I’ve voiced my concerns - my objections - again and again and it does not matter that I’m terrified of surrendering my freedom and our people to a man who cares for nothing but himself!”

Yoongi’s forehead pressed intimately to yours. The sound of your labored breathing filled the scant space between you. His eyes had fluttered closed, but your scent curled around him like a mage's curse. He could barely breathe for want of you. His fingers fanned out to skim the smooth planes of your shoulders, sending heady waves of pleasure directly to your core. 

“Spirits and saints above,” you moaned - no longer capable of hiding your reaction, “I have wanted your hands on me from the moment I saw you.”

The prince wrenched himself backward with an anguish gasp.

“You would have me defy the gods?! Your blood is sacred-”

“And what of my choice!? Is that not sacred too?!”

His eyes flashed like warm obsidian. 

“Yes.”

The fragile tether restraining Yoongi’s desire seemed to snap around the same moment as your patience. 

His hands, which were digging desperately into the surface of his desk, suddenly curled around your waist and dragged your body flush against him. You barely had time to register the flood of new sensation before Yoongi swooped down and took your mouth.

If you were offering yourself to him on a silver platter, then by the gods he meant to have you.

The sheer force of your reaction to his kiss - your first kiss - had you whimpering desperately, but Yoongi was in no mood to be merciful, plundering your mouth like a man who would rather die than stop. 

He broke away briefly to lift you onto the desk and run his palms up your bare legs- pushing that accursed gown back till they wrapped easily around his waist. 

“Is this what you want, my lady?” he growled into your ear before taking it between his teeth. A lifetime without intimate touch left you wildly oversensitive. His hands, his mouth, his heated breath fanning over your skin - it was too much - it was far too much, but saints you’d do anything to have more.

“Please,” you whimpered, not even entirely sure what you were begging for.

Yoongi nipped the skin at the base of your neck, drawing out small potent shocks of pleasure. His hands spread greedily over your thighs until he gripped the soft mounds of your backside and slammed your aching center against him.

You screamed.

“Gods you’re nightmare” he hissed, grinding harder against you till you were literally shaking.“You come here - into my private chambers - wearing nothing but a scrap of see-through silk,” a harsh tearing sound filled the room as Yoongi shredded through the finest fabric in all the land. Cool air whispered over your exposed torso for a brief moment before he replaced it with the warmth of his touch.

“Why must you ask for my hands when you belong to someone else.” His teeth sank into the sensitive flesh between your neck and shoulder. Your hips jerked involuntarily - forcing another tortured groan.

“You know what they say about me don’t you?” he muttered as he mouthed along your collarbone.You gasped every time his tongue flicked out to tease you.“That I'm a heartless bastard.”

He tugged you forward off the desk - upending your balance as his thigh moved between your legs - causing you to straddle it lewdly.Your toes were barely able to brush the floor. You were forced to cling to him and struggle against his muscled thigh to remain upright.

Wicked waves of pleasure and frustration erupted from your core and the shock of it had your eyes flying open.

Yoongi’s hands suddenly cupped your chin, bringing your mouths into a teasing almost contact.

“I’ve been heartless since the moment I met you,” he whispered, letting his lips brush against yours, “I didn't even know I had a heart until you took it from me.”

Tenderness and desire jerked violently in your chest as he opened his mouth to you - letting you explore him as he had explored you only moments before.

Brutal sensation trembled through your limbs. Your fingers shook as they clawed at his tunic - desperate to feel more of his skin against your own.

“Yoongi please,” you sobbed, burning up with an emptiness you couldn’t quite comprehend, “help me, please.”

“I will,” he swore - clearly misunderstanding what you were begging for, “I’ll get you out. I don’t care where I have to take you, I’ll never let him have you.”

You giggled breathlessly.

“No, I’m not going anywhere.”

Yoongi froze.

Which was terrible, because you’re reasonably sure he was about to put his mouth over your nipple and you had no idea that was even an option, but you’re really keen to try it now if he would just -

“What are you saying?” His previously tender grip became surprisingly clinical as he hauled you none-too-gently back onto the desk.

“I’m saying that I’m not planning to run away.”

Yoongi’s brows raised right up into his hairline.

“Are you mad? They’ll kill us.”

No need to specify who “they” were. He had broken about fifteen laws in the last fifteen minutes and was halfway through violating a prophecy. “They” was a long list at this point. 

“They won’t.”

“They will!” His voice was a tad higher-pitched as a result of his disbelief and you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing. 

“I’ve mostly despoiled a sacred virgin! We’re actively defying a prophecy!” His common sense began to trickle back as the situation below his waist calmed down. “Saints what am I doing?!”

“We’re not defying the prophecy,” you huffed, leaning over to yank your cloak up from the floor. This was not a conversation you were prepared to have naked. “We’re fulfilling it.”

The prince drew back and blinked several times. Slowly.

“...Have you gotten into your father’s incense again? I heard about that thing with the cow and the fountain-”

“Oh my stars- that was one time - no. Just listen.”

Yoongi pinched the bridge of his nose - letting his eyes flutter closed. “Yes - of course - I’ll just...listen.”

“Tell me the first line prophecy-”

“I thought I was listening.”

“Are you serious right now!?”

Yoongi grinned. Gods you were a firebrand. 

He sighed deeply and began to recite the familiar words.

“A lady born of fire and light, within her blood runs holy might-”

“Yes - now - that refers to the astrological phenomenon at the hour of my birth and my bloodline - there’s no question of my identity. However, the next lines are far less clear.”

Yoongi was trying to follow along - he really was, but you were half naked and making absolutely no sense.

“In... what way?”

“She must forge her lover’s throne - that’s the next part. Those fools are so obtuse - they’ve had me learning blacksmith craft since my tenth year so I could literally forge Aurengi’s throne. I’m bloody terrible at it - honestly, any throne I forge -  it would be a miracle if it stood upright.”

“I’m afraid you cannot dismiss an entire prophecy because you’re a shite blacksmith.”

“I am profoundly aware of that.”

“And - you destroyed Aurengi’s first engagement. Our families had already exchanged betrothal stones with the royal family of Westarin. Your birth destroyed what once was set in stone by breaking his promise to their princess. Everyone knows that -”

“Everyone is wrong!” Your words rang with utter conviction and Yoongi found himself - reluctantly - beginning to question something he had taken for granted all his life.

“...In the Great Hall of Kings... there is stone pillar with hundreds of names on it-”

His mouth parted in absolute shock.

“Th-The Stone of Succession?”

“The name of every king and his heir are carved into that stone - not just literally, but metaphorically - the succession order has been set in stone.”

“And….if the prophecy does not refer to Aurengi-”

“- then it would destroy what once was set in stone by destroying the succession order. The prophecy cannot refer to Aurengi. After all - why specify a true king if there wasn’t also a false one?”

A faint ringing sound began to build in both his ears. His skin seemed to itch from the inside out as your words slowly sunk in. “Speak plainly. What are you saying?”

“I am saying that my choice - here and now - will forge your throne ...Because you are the true king.”

Yoongi was out of his seat and heading towards the window in less than an instant. The air was suddenly far too heavy to breathe properly.

“That’s not possible,” he coughed, “I have no desire to be anyone’s king, and even if I did - you cannot wish such things into existence-”

“I don’t need to make any wishes. The heir to the throne is the child born to the highest ranked of the king’s lovers - even if she is not his wife - that is our law.”

“It’s been centuries since a woman of higher birth than the queen produced an heir. And frankly that means nothing in this situation-”

“It means everything. Aurengi’s mother was a duchess - but yours was a princess.”

Yoongi whirled around to face you fully - his eyes wild with suspicion and shock.

“How - how could you possibly-”

“She told you didn’t she? She told you the truth before she died-”

“No! She was sick - delusional - the fever was already in her mind -”

“She wasn't delusional! It was true, Yoongi!”

He shook his head, still trying to wrap his mind around what was unfolding.

“I don’t understand. There was no one in the room when she told me - she was minutes from the end - there’s no way-”

Gently you reached forward to cradle his face in your hands.  His pulse calmed instantly under your touch.

“Yoongi...last year a small vessel ran onto the rocks near our family estate. Cousin Lindy and I were out riding to check for damage from the storm when we found it. Lindy recognized the Eastrili design right away.”

Your fingers tentatively carded through his hair and he sighed out a quiet groan in response.

“If my father knew, he would have detained them as political prisoners, but they were only in Norlandria because the storm blew them off course... I didn’t have the heart to turn them in.”

Yoongi snorted softly.

“Do you ever do what’s expected of you?”

“Only if it makes sense.” 

He grinned.

“There were three men left alive in the wreckage. We dragged them to the groundskeeper’s cottage and hid them there till they were recovered... When I got word that they were well enough to receive visitors, I went to greet them. I intended to help them return to Eastril…”

Your fingers tightened on the veil covering your face and hair as the wind raged over the nearby sea. There was no viable reason for you to visit the groundskeeper in the dead of night. Hopefully the veil would be enough to conceal your identity from prying eyes.

You stumbled clumsily into the cottage and found yourself face to face with three of the most beautiful men you had ever laid eyes on.

Saints. They didn’t look like that when they were half-drowned and covered in sea mud.

Each of your guests had thick dark hair similar to Yoongi’s. Ink markings swirled over their necks in mesmerizing patterns. One even had what appeared to be runes drawn elegantly under his right eye. Silver piercings glinted from their brows, ears, lips, and noses.

They were utterly stunning. 

“My lady we owe you our gratitude,” the shortest of the trio bowed deeply. “I am Jimin and this,” he gestured to the two men behind him, “is Jungkook and Taeyhung.”’

“You are most welcome.” You offered a polite curtsy before reaching up to remove your veil. “It is my good fortune to cross your path.”

Jimin froze.

One of his companions gasped audibly, the other looked as if he'd seen a ghost.

Fear gripped your chest.

What is it? What’s wrong?

Taehyung spoke frantically in their native tongue and Jimin immediately raised his hands toward you in a gesture of peace.

“I am unarmed,” he whispered - his eyes strangely fixated on your face. “Please may I come closer?...I swear on my soul’s fire I will not hurt you.”

His gaze seemed desperate and oddly... hopeful.

“Y-yes. You may.”

As he drew forward, you realized that his focus was not on you - but on something that was revealed when you discarded your veil.

“Where did you get this earring, my lady?” 

The two behind him shifted anxiously.

“It was...” you were suddenly reluctant to disclose Yoongi’ identity, “- a man. He saved my life and gave it to me as a token.”

“May I?” 

His fingers reached out tentatively to touch the delicate chain in your ear.

For a moment you swore you could feel the metal heat against your skin.

Jimin’s nostrils flared. His eyes went black.

Well that was unexpected.

“Do you know... that in all the world there is only one pair of earrings like this?”

Yoongi drew back in confusion.

“They recognized my earring?”

“Jimin and his companions are royal mages. Their families have served the ruling house of Eastril for a thousand years. These,” your fingers brushed over Yoongi’s earring, “- were custom made for the Princess of Eastril by Jimin’s father. They still bear traces of his magic.”

“That proves nothing. My mother served with the princess. She could have taken them -” 

“She didn’t. You know that no Easrtili would remove another’s piercings - it's sacrilege. Your mother was the princess.”

His eyes narrowed in disbelief. “Why would a princess allow any of this to happen? She was a prisoner of war - the king’s lover. What you’re suggesting is madness...”

You bit your lip, considering how best to communicate the enormity of what you knew. Yoongi - despite being eyeball deep in a life altering identity crisis - was momentarily distracted by how much he wanted to bite your lip. 

“Jimin eventually took me into his confidence. It helped that he and Lindy became -” you searched for a polite way to say that they had defiled every surface in the groundskeeper’s cottage, “- close.” 

Yoongi's eyebrows raised.You cleared your throat awkwardly before continuing. 

“It was Jimin’s father - the high mage of Eastril - who helped your mother fake her death. They realized that without a catastrophic incident, our countries would tear each other apart. She was trying to buy time to look for a more permanent solution... But they lost contact with her when she was captured by your father.”

“I don’t understand. Eastrili mages have scry magic, they can find almost anyone.”

“But your father isn’t just anyone is he? No soul in Norlandria is more guarded than the king  - especially when it comes to foriegn magic. Defensive spells protecting the royal family are crafted by hundreds of our strongest priests.”

“Do they know that…” his eyes burned briefly with unwanted tears. “Did you tell them she’s gone?”

“They knew… Jimin said her flame burned for 12 years after the battle of Great Bay. They searched for her everyday until then… Now they search for her son.”

Yoongi's heart stuttered painfully in the wake of your words.

“...Her son?”

“They saw she had a child -  a new flame. Taehyung has seen glimpses of you in visions for years, but the wards protecting royalty - like you - were simply too strong to penetrate. The mages don’t have the power they once did. Their energy flows from the land and people of Eastril and since the Great Wars - both have suffered considerably.”

The chaos in Yoongi’s mind was deafening- immense, and the path ahead had never been more unclear.

“If this is true, then…”

“...Then you are not the child of a fateless Eastrili warrior - but of two ancient royal lines. Yours is the bluest blood in this castle. Not even the king can claim such a lineage.” 

After a moment, you reached back to remove your earring, offering it to the prince with an open palm.

“I owe you my life... And I know you’ve never wanted to be a king. There’s still time to take your token and disappear. I’ll never force you as I have been forced.”

The words are painful, but you must continue - even if it shattered your heart.

“Jimin is the high mage now. He plans to marry Lindy on the night of the Summer Solstice. They’ve arranged to smuggle her out of the country on a private fishing vessel in two days… and if you want- you can go with her.”

Carefully, you draw his hand to your heart, pressing the familiar silver ornament into it.

“Your mother’s earrings and his word is all it will take for you to assume your rightful place among them. Reclaim your token. You can wash your hands of this and I swear I’ll never reveal the truth of who you are...or-” 

“...Or?” 

His fingers closed over the token, weighing it along with your words and their inevitable consequences.

“Or stay,” you whisper - trying desperately not to plead with him. “Fight for your birthright. Lead our people. The light of Eastril is fading, but with the might of Norlandria at your disposal, you can bring it back... Claim your destiny.”

After a moment, your eyes met his with quiet trepidation... and a fierce spark of hope.

“...Claim me.”

His gaze never wavered from yours. The soft sound of metal shifting in his hands reached you even before you understood his intent.

Your heart pounded wildly as Yoongi threaded the familiar clasp through your ear. 

“You...are mine.” 

Then he crushed his mouth to yours.

This time there were no inhibitions, no distractions, no crippling guilt.  

The cloak went flying across the room as Yoongi swept you into his arms, moving forward till your back hit the plush surface of his bed.

“Years I wanted you - wished for you,” he whispered, dragging his mouth down your neck till he reached the sensitive hollow right above your collarbone. “And you’ve been mine all along.” 

His lips latched on to your skin, sucking a deep purple mark at your pulse point. The strange mixture of pain and pleasure had you whimpering helplessly. You needed more. More of this delicious pressure. More of him. 

Yoongi’s hand wrapped around your wrists, pinning your arms above your head. Your body was soft, ripe - irresistible -

Perfect simply because it was yours.

His breathing grew labored as he drank you in.

“Touch me,” you pleaded, “I’ve waited long enough.”

He grinned.

“Yes, my lady.”

The prince’s reputation for seductive debauchery was primarily the result of some overblown gossip surrounding a few (memorable but) isolated incidents in his wild youth.

However overblown they might be, you quickly discovered that the rumors were not - in fact - unfounded as Min Yoongi proceeded to thoroughly debauch you.

The brief speech your mother traumatized you with on your sixteenth birthday had not prepared you for the feeling of his mouth working over your heated core or the shattering ecstasy that shot through you when his tongue flicked over the sensitive bud nestled there.

Your nails clawed over his back as he explored and unraveled your body in ways you had never imagined. Every time you reached the edge of pleasure, he pushed you farther; praising and teasing you with filthy delicious words till you were mewling incoherently beneath him. 

Yet he was gentle as you finally took him in, filling and stretching you intimately with extraordinary patience (though he would later confess that going slow after wanting you for so long nearly killed him). 

When the pain faded, all that was left was indescribable pleasure. 

Release left you both sated and completely spent. You did not remember drifting to sleep, but you awoke several hours later to find Yoongi examining the results of your coupling with bemused curiosity. 

His eyes lingered on the flecks of red scattered over your thighs and the white sheets of his bed. 

“Her maidenhead shall be the sign...”

Primal satisfaction rose within him as he took in the marks he’d drawn over your body with his mouth. Marks you’d begged for. 

Perhaps he was a bit of a savage after all...

“That’s always been my absolute favorite line of the prophecy,” you muttered sleepily, letting your head drop into the pillow with an audible huff. 

“Having the entire kingdom routinely discuss my virginity over breakfast for the last several centuries was utterly delightful. Perhaps now they can finally talk about the weather.”

Yoongi laughed, untangling himself to retrieve a damp cloth from the basin on his dressing table.

“I doubt it.” 

His hands gently tended to your aching core and thighs, wiping them carefully with the cloth while you rested in comfortable silence.

“I truly never wanted power you know…” He laid aside the rag and drew you close once again. “Aside from being in your arms, this is not the path I would have chosen.”

You smiled, letting your fingers entwine with his,

“I think that’s probably why you are meant for it... You were the only one who looked past the prophecy and the power I represented and saw me. You read my letters, honored my choice...The saints tell us that ‘a man proves his greatness in the small moments’... You care for the people - not for the power of being king - and so you will be a great king.

Yoongi brushed a soft kiss against your head.

“You know they’ll fight us. Aurengi will not surrender easily - if at all. There will be violence - bloodshed.”

“...Yes,” you whispered.

“Are you afraid?”

“A little...but I’m also certain... Certain of this. Certain of us.” 

After a moment, you shifted slightly in his arms, leaning back until you were face to face.

“We have made our choice… Whatever is coming, we’ll defeat it together.”

His forehead lowered gently to rest against yours.

“Together,” he promised, letting his love for you burn away any lingering trace of fear.

• ▨ ▨ ▨ ▨ • ▨ ▨ ▨ ▨ •

Ask My Muse: Have a question for the characters in this work? Send it to my ask box and hear their side of the story.

Endnote: There are many types of magic in the world, but for a writer, feedback and reblogs are the most powerful. I poured my heart into this story and if you enjoyed it at all please (pretty please?) let me know and consider sharing. Thank you so much for taking the time to read my work!

Taglist: @callmeyourstarrynight​  

Masterlist: I got more where that came from... 

• ▨ ▨ ▨ ▨ • ▨ ▨ ▨ ▨ •

[ramblingguy54]

True Colors: An Emotionally Fantastic Serious Game Changer.

If we’re to look back at Reunion as Season 1′s dramatic pay off for Amphibia’s message of toxic friendships, as Anne & Sasha’s conflicting dynamic showed us, then True Colors is a colossal expansive note on this big theme of the series. True Colors makes Season 1′s finale look like a walk in the park for what angst goes down between our three main heroins in Season 2′s climatic resolution. Everything that can go wrong does go oh so painfully wrong for these three kids. Anne, to no one’s surprise, gets double crossed by Sasha leaving things between them a Hell of a lot more bitter than they were previously, as if that couldn’t already be topped when Sasha tried to kill the Plantars before. Anne has had enough of her lies and manipulation not being afraid to tell Sasha straight up how awful of a friend she’s been in general, even hitting her where it hurts most of all saying, “No, I’m done listening to you! I’m done trusting you! You’re a horrible person and I am done being FRIENDS with you!”, going so far as to get a shaken reaction out of Sasha dropping her brave face act, making this girl try to wipe away the frog family.

Right off the bat, True Colors makes it highly evident this isn’t just another story of stopping a bigger threat, but one hitting much closer to home, overall. Yes, King Andrias is certainly a dangerous villain, who makes his presence and intimidating nature known to the others by True Color’s final act, which despite this Amphibia isn’t entirely putting him at the forefront, rather focusing on a more intimate study of Anne, Sasha, and Marcy’s big emotional conflict. This finale knows exactly where to put its focus of importance on, so I love that instead of it being action packed we’re getting the spotlight shined on just how screwed up these three of a friendship have, in spite of Marcy claiming in The Dinner episode, “We’re supposed to be friends for life. We don’t split up!’ . Very ironic stuff right there, indeed.

True Colors’ most powerful strength it adds to Amphibia’s ongoing profound story about healthy friendships is the thorough deconstruction of these girls defined “ideal relationship” as people. Before Anne came to the world of Amphibia this kid was afraid to stand up for what she believed in, even knowing especially well that stealing the calamity box was morally questionable, but did it anyway. Sasha was super manipulative, abusive, and used her power to control people, like she did a lot of toward Anne in their lives. Marcy, while very smart, wasn’t the most competent physically, who soon grew into being more independent without needing to rely on Anne always having to be there for her. These three were changed immensely by the events of being thrust into this world of sentient amphibian creatures. Anne benefited morally most out out of all three in taking up the mantle of responsibility and ironing out her own issues. She’s become a much stronger person all around. 

This episode asks us an important question though in nutshell with, “Have Sasha & Marcy truly changed for the better?”, since Anne has reached a point in her arc feeling genuinely content with who she’s become and the bonds that have been made with the Plantar family shown most notably with Sprig Plantar. Hence the whole purpose behind the song, It’s No Big Deal, with Anne feeling proud for who she is, yet not noticing a bigger issue right underneath her nose. That previous episode was meant to bring Anne’s happiness up only to bring it all crashing down in a devastating display of new revelations in True Colors. Every dramatic emotional beat isn’t just earned. Each significant moment is completely knocked out of the park by terrific voice acting, beautiful animation, and music composition that gave me serious emotional goosebumps. True Colors did exactly as Not What He Seems accomplished for Gravity Falls in shaking up its own respective dramatic stakes just when you thought it couldn’t get any higher for these protagonists. Shit seriously hits the fan here.

Did it ever occur to you, Anne? Sasha? That one of you knew more, than she was letting on? That ONE of you might’ve gotten you stranded in Amphibia on purpose...?

The big bombshell twist of Marcy playing a part too in getting them into this whole debacle completely flips everything upside down. Sasha pushed Anne into taking the Calamity Box, yes, but if Marcy never sent that photo because of her desire to stay with them together forever, then they wouldn’t have been stranded in basically a world full of dangerous creatures and who knows what else. Easily my favorite part of the episode, considering it adds more nuance to a situation that defined Amphibia’s story. It wasn’t just one person’s fault at the end of the day. Sasha bullied Anne into taking the box, Anne didn’t put her foot down to make a stand for something morally questionable, and Marcy took advantage of them both to benefit her own selfish desires for supposedly a “happy ending” not involving them staying apart, due to her parents moving away for a new job. All three girls played an important part on why they got landed into Amphiba. It’s why Anne’s statement to King Andrias, “The three of us may have made some mistake, but you...You’re evil and I’m gonna stop you!”, holds such a real weight to it, as this story continues to solidify how genuinely fleshed out their dynamic is.

Marcy’s super desperate plea to be understood by Anne & Sasha when Andrias revealed her getting them thrown into Amphibia purposefully was hard to watch. On one hand, I felt for Marcy because she didn’t want real life circumstances to tear apart that close connection she had to Sasha & Anne. Sure, she could’ve just kept in touch with them over the phone or chatting online, too. However, Marcy had known them since very early childhood. When you’ve been so attached to someone it can be a devastating thing, depending on just how vulnerable you are emotionally, to start drifting apart. Marcy represents that embodiment of toxic need for togetherness and couldn’t bear to let a possibility, like moving away, throw a wrench into her happiness and friendship, as well.

Never mind Marcy wanting to stay permanently in a different reality, rather than face her’s, but it made this person feel like something more. It gave her a chance to feel truly special in being able to live out a fantasy dream of having such power and freedom that a kid, like herself, couldn’t have had. The freedom to know she is plenty capable of making it out there on her own without Anne having to watch this kid like a hawk. So, to have someone, or something, try taking it away from her terrified Marcy of facing a terrible truth. That she isn’t strong enough after all to live a life without Anne & Sasha by her side completely, where Marcy will never feel truly worthy enough to blossom into her own person. It’s why that line, “I just...didn’t want to be alone...”, carries such a deep pain to it all. Marcy just crumbles into pieces accepting her greatest weakness. As much as Marcy fumbled the ball big time, it’s so easy to empathize with her on the idea of feeling competent enough. Marcy never meant to hurt Anne or Sasha, but the sad crushing punchline is she very much did.

Speaking of which, Anne had every right to be upset and mad, obviously. Anne has been missing so many things from her life before everything went off the wall. Hopping Mall especially highlighted Anne’s emotional desire to give anything just to hear her mother’s singing again. This teenager has been really dealing with a lot of grief in general quite honestly. Anne got into a high stakes battle against Sasha to save new friends, who’d practically became like an adopted family, which left the poor girl traumatized and heartbroken over the end result. She thought finding Marcy would help compensate for it and eventually be able to mend those complications with Sasha to boot. It’s simply painful to see it all blow up in Anne’s face to know not only Sasha betrayed her trust yet again, but realizing Marcy also played a part of responsibility in getting them thrown here. Matt Braly really just decided to slap future trust issues onto Anne finding out Hop Pop, Sasha, and Marcy were all super dishonest in their intentions at one point or another. Damn, I feel so bad for her.

It makes their embracing hug back in Marcy At The Gates so much harder to watch. Anne was super glad to see her again. Anne had wondered what became of Marcy or even possibly started to think she could even be alive at all. Then come to find out later on Marcy having intentionally ripped her away from a normal life must’ve felt worse then what happened with Sasha. Anne, already done with all of Sasha’s bullshit, thought she could at least expect better from Marcy not letting her down, but that too wasn’t the case. Marcy is very much as flawed as Sasha in what she has done. To think, Anne wanted so badly to get back home, yet she’s staring the very person dead in the eye, who ripped her away from it to begin with. Marcy knew Sasha would talk Anne into taking the box from that thrift shop, even if she wasn’t completely certain it would successfully teleport them away. Regardless of whatever good intentions someone can have in why they did what they did, it still doesn’t absolve them of said mistake. Fact of the matter is, Marcy tragically made her own bed, by choosing to mess with forces she couldn’t begin to comprehend and now has to face consequences, in spite of her not deserving them.

What really got to me was when Marcy tried to spin around Anne’s personal growth and close friendship with the Plantars as all entirely thanks to her. When she said, “I gave you this! I gave you everything!”, I was like, “Nope, that couldn’t be any further from the truth.”, seeing everything that has culminated in Anne’s journey of bettering herself. Marcy didn’t give Anne anything, but a one way ticket to cutting the kid off from her family, presuming she’d be fine with this idea. It’s all kinds of messed up, however what it boils down to is Marcy undermining Anne’s independence and agency. Anne’s moral judgement in decision making was what allowed her to create this new life she made for herself in Amphibia. Anne’s honesty as a whole led her down a path of togetherness, while Marcy’s lying landed her in a result of not wanting to be alone, costing her so much.

“I don’t believe this. We were so focused on each other we couldn’t see what was right in front of us!”

True Colors excels at earning each of its emotional beats because they line up with character motivations down to the last letter. Anne doesn’t want to trust Sasha anymore because of their already rocky past, which leads to her helping King Andrias regain control of his kingdom. Sasha not keeping a lid on her temper, wanting to rule over Amphibia, and trying to reinforce that power dynamic with Anne & Marcy only made things worse for her image of a changed good friend. There wasn’t a chance in Hell Anne would hear Sasha’s reasoning after she flat out tried to take away her frog family, by attempting to use the Calamity Box a bit ago in the episode. Marcy wanted to believe there was a happily ever after in seeing this world traveling idea as their only chance for salvation as friends for life, but it turned out to be something much more sinister, when learning of Andrias’ backstory and his true scumbag nature. All three of their motivations come clashing together, blinding them from a much bigger danger. Something that effectively puts everyone at stake.

Amphibia’s Season 2 finale works so excellently, given it covers important dramatic elements it’s been stirring around since Season 1′s early rumblings. Amphibia is a story centered around people’s need for emotional connections. True Colors builds miraculously off what Reunion already did quite well in showing friendships can become rough and they are never easy to deal with. When you have to make a stand it can be a tough pill to swallow on the reality check of maybe this “good friend” of your’s isn’t as nice as you previously thought them to be. Anne having been hurt one too many times now by her former friend sends that message close to home, so much so even Sasha begins to question her morality as a human being. It poignantly encapsulates how this trio’s complex friendship is a serious growing issue needing to be reexamined, overall.

What if Anne’s right..? What if I am a horrible person...?

Something I absolutely love to pieces about True Colors, also a testament to Season 2′s darn good writing, is how much introspective we get from each character on what they’re feeling. We’ve seen plenty of Sasha’s vulnerability before in other episodes centered on her issues, but now we’re getting to the root of it. Sasha is really taking everything more to heart, little by little. Sasha’s understanding what kind of an effect she has on people, seeing the damage it has caused made evident by Percy and Braddock in Barrel’s Warhammer. Grime once told her, “Some dreams have a price and not everyone is willing to pay it.”, where she’s questioning that idealism every passing minute the invasion plan proceeds further into reaching success. Sasha isn’t sure what to do with herself anymore feeling aimless. Those previous episodes had a real impact on her priorities more than she cared to let on with Sasha’s typical tough girl act. This kid has let her guard down more, which scares and confuses Sasha. She’s always used to playing the role of protector it contradicts everything Sasha stands for when the roles are totally reversed because now Anne has made her feel the tremendous change in their growth as individuals.

Sasha’s lifestyle has been all about control that after somewhat learning to be more considerate to Anne & Marcy’s feelings she feels beyond conflicted about what truly matters to her. The most screwed up part of it all is Sasha didn’t want to fight anymore, taking up a pacifist approach after seeing what King Andrias had been hiding from everyone. It’s a fitting punishment for Sasha to try bringing Anne over to work together once more, but getting her pleas for companionship outright ignored. Anne was correct that Sasha had wasted all the chances to be reasonable. Boonchuy tried to hear out Sasha before at The Third Temple. One wanted to start things over again to iron out their serious issues, but the other was driven by bitterness, while only remorseful to a degree at best, of seeing their once weak friend become so independent, mature, and stronger that it drove her up wall. Sasha wanted to take away that “problem” being the Plantars, since in her eyes they’re the source of Anne’s strength, driving a wedge further between the two girls in their heated Reunion 2.0 battle.

True Colors demonstrates the horrific price of no trust, communication, nor teamwork from the three main girls that Andrias smoothly took advantage of, as if they were fiddles. 

“That’s the thing about friends isn’t it? The more you love them, the more it hurts when they go.”

King Andrias is quite literally what I wanted Lunaris to be, where DuckTales’ Season 2 finale didn’t impress me on doing. He’s a serious big baddie to the main cast, who follows through on his threats of violence to demonstrate his wide array of arsenal and power. Andrias doesn’t just emotionally manipulate characters, like poor Marcy, but utterly crush them without an ounce of remorse for his actions. When he dropped Sprig out that window after Anne willingly let him have the Calamity Box back I thought they were legit gonna kill this boy off. The way Anne’s flashback montage of her good times with Sprig were eerily shot really didn’t help either on that note. Anne’s Calamity power finally activating is easily up there among stuff, like Dewey risking his life for Della’s disappearance in Last Crash, where the cinematography is shot and animated brilliantly. You feel Anne’s blind raging sadness in every hit she landed on those robots and Andrias. If anyone didn’t believe Sprig was like a little brother to Anne, then I dunno how anyone couldn’t view their bond anymore as such after this hugely defining scene. Anne went bloodthirsty when she believed Sprig to be dead further evidenced when she hugged him in relief afterwards exclaiming, “Sprig!? You’re alive!? Oh, thank goodness...”, which cuts deep so damn much.

Anne was ready to fight every one of Andrias’ troops in that castle to the death, if need be. Before Sprig came back from falling, thanks to Marcy’s quick acting, to comfort Anne, her only goal was to slaughter every opponent in that throne room, along with making Andrias pay dearly for even daring to lay a single finger on anyone of the Plantars. I’m not gonna lie, this pivotal power up reminded me so much Gohan turning Super Saiyan 2 after Cell curb stomped Android 16 into pieces with a smirk on his face. Anne Boonchuy’s maddening outburst is a classic testament to the idea of, “Piss off the nicest person and they’ll make it their mission to instill the biggest kind of fear/terror into you.”. showing this kid at her most vulnerable mental state, yet. Sprig & Anne’s cathartic embrace really messed me up in reinforcing just how these two respect, love, and would go above any of their limitations to help the other out. Sprig’s “death” scene was a masterful bait by the writers into making us think someone was gonna die and it was gonna be a poor kid, no less.  

However, it was actually all just a bait and switch for the real, “Oh, shit. They really just did that”, moment with Marcy unexpectedly getting run through with Andrias’ gigantic sword. In a last ditch effort, Marcy wanted to atone for what she had a hand in getting them all into. Marcy was ironclad determined in making her own stand for what was right trying to save the people she endangered. Akin to what Sasha did in Reunion for saving Anne’s life, Marcy does the exact same here. Although, unfortunately this time, no one is here to protect Marcy from escaping death, like Grime catching Sasha from plummeting at Toad Tower. Marcy couldn’t react in time because she was so focused on helping her dear friends out. She wanted to prove to herself at least one time, “I’ve screwed up so much stuff with my friends. Maybe, just maybe. If I get my friends back home, it’ll prove I’m not an entirely crappy person for setting these events into motion.”. Marcy’s own deep seeded remorse is what saved Anne & the Plantars, while being the cause of her own untimely demise at Andrias’ hands.

This scene is what no doubt encouraged the warning sign for younger viewers Disney decided to make for them. It’s impressive how far Matt and his crew are willing to go for intense dramatic content. Andrias trying to crush Polly with his fist after destroying Frobo with casual ease, dropping Sprig out of the window from up sky high, and stabbing Marcy with his powerful sword displays his cold blooded brutality. Doesn’t matter who you are. If you get in the way of Andrias’ plans for multiverse domination, then he’ll throw anyone into their own grave, be it man, woman, or child. That’s the mark of a truly terrifying antagonist.

Andrias didn’t care who had to be hurt or manipulated to get back the box, so he could invade other worlds with Earth being his next prime target for invasion. Marcy’s fate is a horrifyingly poetic statement, since Sasha stated to Anne in a flashback from Marcy At The Gates, “One of these days, she’s gonna get herself killed.”, with True Colors tying back to this line in a disturbing manner. Something that sends chills down my spine is we get to see the full extent of how far Andrias shoved the sword through her body. We don’t just see the entry point of where it hit her, but it even zooms out to show the whole thing. Real talk, I got serious Avatar The Last Airbender vibes from this scene. Reminded me so much of Aang getting suddenly zapped with lightning by Azula when he tried to enter the Avatar state. Marcy didn’t want to be alone so badly she ended up inevitably dying alone trying to send Anne back home to their reality. One Hell of a way to close off Marcy’s last moments in Season 2, until her inevitable resurrection happens in Season 3 now that King Andrias has her in a tube tank that looks tied to his master.

True Colors ends on a deeply bittersweet cliffhanger leaving the fates of Sasha & Grime totally unknown if they’ll get away by the skin of their teeth, or get captured by Andrias’ soldiers and robots. Anne finally returned home with the Plantars, but at a deadly cost of leaving her other close friends behind in Amphibia. After all the isolation, heartbreak, and endurance she went through with her frog family Anne finds herself at a total loss for words. Once again, Anne is in a state of solitude of not knowing if her friends are really okay or not, mirroring the start of Season 1 when she landed into Amphibia’s world. It’s safe to say to say that, “Finally me and it’s no big deal.”, lyrics have aged terribly for Anne’s realization of finding her own identity came at the expense of getting separated from friends she’s known since kindergarten. Definitely see Anne becoming a lot more protective of the Plantars now more than ever after watching Marcy drop to the ground from being stabbed in front of her eyes.

Amphibia’s Season 2 finale is exactly how you capitalize on a winning story telling formula of dramatic writing, lovable characters with layered depth, and increasing the stakes of your story in an organic manner. True Colors is a finale that should be talked about for a long time to come, as it not only showed how worth the wait it was, but reinforces why Amphibia is a truly great series. It’s unafraid to take its characters to dark places in a way that feels totally earned.

Amphibia Season 2 is everything a sequel to a first film should be.

[crystalbahamut]

ever onwards

FFXIV Write Day 12 – Make-up for Day 07 Speculate

Summary: G’raha Tia likes to gather facts first, but sometimes he still is surprised by the outcome.

Author’s note: I try to write ambiguous WoL but I always forget to take height into account. Deepest apologies to my lala friends; everyone else is more easily fudged. Also please forgive any mistakes; I wrote the whole thing in third person and found I just…really didn’t like it. I know second person isn’t for everyone, especially when used while shadowing another character’s perspective, but I just liked it better. And this is as edited as it is going to get.

Warnings: G’raha Tia/WoL, Shadowbringers spoilers, Crystal Tower questline, mostly unspecified/ambiguous WoL, romantic sap, fluff, 2nd person

Words: 2,692

 ---

G’raha Tia knew this expedition to explore the Crystal Tower would be the opportunity of a lifetime, but he had no way to know just how much it would change his life. The ruins, the relics, even the enemies left to guard the tower do more to serve his research than any tome he has ever found. It’s fantastic and more than he had ever dreamed it would be.

And part of what makes it all so much more is the presence of the Warrior of Light. It is thanks to you he can even access the tower, but more than that you are one of the few friends he has been able to make in his life. And…well, at first G’raha couldn’t help but start flirting. You are so much more wonderful and human than any story has ever made you out to be, and he can’t imagine anyone spending time in your presence and not becoming irrevocably in love with you. He had resolved to stop immediately should you make your discomfort known, but then…

Then you had started flirting back. And now G’raha doesn’t know what to do. Now that he has thought about it (a bit obsessively, perhaps,) he cannot help but marvel at his own foolish bravery to even try, and he wonders how in the world the Warrior of Light does not yet have a suitor. You have nearly all of Eorzea singing your praises, have even wrested the respect of your enemies, and hobnob with some of the most prestigious personages in the world. So how can it be you will not only laugh at G’raha’s jokes, but sometimes smile so abashedly when he himself praises you?

It is entirely possible you have no one special in your life– and given your favorable response to G’raha’s affections, it is not outside the realm of possibility that you might be interested in him as he is in you. While it may seem too good to be true, G’raha won’t relinquish such an opportunity if there is one…and the wondering thereof is starting to affect his work. If he is ever going to focus on anything other than your love life ever again, he must needs find out for certain.

So he shall end his speculation by collecting data. And today is perfect– everyone on site has the day off and you have told him you intend to spend the day not doing any work. ‘Tis a veritable miracle if he ever heard of one– even Cid had looked shocked. And so when you set off…G’raha sets off after you.

G’raha is not a bad hunter, and so he puts that expertise to use as he follows you around. You hadn't noticed him in the Shroud that first time and his tracking skills remain a point of pride now as he follows you to and around Gridania. You do some shopping– and he can’t help but stifle laughter as you get roped into helping out a stressed merchant, a distressed mother, and a pained courier, in that order.

But you do take the time to buy some things– some supplies for crafting you had mentioned wanting, a snack that makes G’raha’s stomach grumble in jealousy– and then you just walk slowly and take in the city, trading hellos with some few that feel comfortable enough to greet you. But through it all you remain alone, and when you pause to sit on a bench G’raha would say you actually look a bit…lonely.

‘Tis food for thought, for certain. Do you have a paramour who simply couldn’t spare the time today? But you are attuned to nearly every aetheryte in the realm; surely if you wanted to spend time with a beloved it would be no hard feat to manage? In fact, surely anyone lucky enough to have you would travel the world to be with you wherever you want them?

You dust yourself off and leave out of the east gate into the Shroud proper, and G’raha follows from a safe distance. You walk leisurely and G’raha can admit to himself the forest is nice, with the faint sounds of birds and a gentle breeze blowing leaves to and fro. He wonders what it would be like, to walk at your side…perhaps hand in hand…perhaps with his tail curling up your forearm…

There are a couple of times you seem to know you’re being followed and you turn to glance in his direction, but even while daydreaming utter nonsense G’raha is ready for such an event and makes certain you see naught but nature itself. Whether or not you feel a presence, you don’t seem terribly bothered, and he follows you all the way down to the South Shroud.

You cleave a little close to Toto-Rak for comfort, but it is a slight shortcut and nothing comes out to bother you before you’re back on the path to Quarrymill. You stop to talk to someone in the small hamlet and G’raha errs on the side of staying out of the way, so he cannot hear what is said, but he can clearly see when you leave out the other gate, which only leads to…

Urth’s Gift. So much for not working today. G’raha cannot help the way his tail twitches in annoyance as he follows behind you. You’re supposed to be resting and Urth’s Gift is dangerous. Yes, you are clearly capable and he has seen you in action in that very area before, but he can’t help but worry at how relaxed you seem about the whole business. Thankfully he had the foresight to bring his bow, and he follows a little more closely, until he gets the benefits of trees and rock faces to clamber and climb for better sight lines.

He doesn’t realize his mistake until you reach the edge of the water, stop, and fold your arms across your chest.

“Don’t worry; I’m not going to make you race me to Ixali territory,” you say with a raised voice and tilt your head to glance back in his direction. “I just fought Garuda again and I’m not keen to incite another summoning so soon.”

He drops down from his branch and assumes his face must be as red as his hair. “How long have you known?”

“I caught a glimpse of you in Gridania and couldn’t help myself,” you say and walk up to him with a friendly smile. “You know, if you wanted to come with me you could have just accepted the offer when I made it.”

“I ah…didn’t want to impose,” he says weakly and puts his bow on his back again. He would be content to run back to Mor Dhona with his tail between his legs right now, but you reach out and grab his hand and he has not the strength to deny your touch. Sweet Azeyma, how deep is he in already?

“If I invite you it’s not imposing,” you say. “I like your company G’raha.”

He looks at you. “Truly?” It comes out so desperate he coughs into his hand and tries to cover it up. “I simply thought– perhaps your time would be better spent with someone you like more than any other.”

“And who do you think that might that be?” you ask him.

“I…don’t know,” he says. Gods; how rude would it be to rip back his hand and run away? And yet this is too much like the tepid fantasies he had just indulged in. Granted the wild hogs and darker shade aren’t quite as lightly atmospheric as just outside the city, but he is still holding your hand in the forest. It must count. “I simply assumed you…must have someone.”

You step forward and you are so close G’raha’s very breath stutters. “No one has ever said anything to me,” you say and you lick your lips and now he’s staring at your lips by the Twelve why. “But I do have someone I like more than any other. And I suspect he likes me too, though I cannot be certain.”

G’raha’s heart sinks. “Oh,” he says and bites back a sigh. “Well if- if it makes you feel any better, there is no one that could receive your affections and not return them. And if this person does not then they are a fool.”

He cannot help how emphatic he becomes, but the idea that you could fall for someone and that person would squander such a precious–

You put your hands on either side of his face and lean in to kiss him. He can do naught but stare, wide-eyed for several seconds, though thankfully the kiss is chaste enough that his delayed clumsy movements can count for a returned gesture before you pull back, an enigmatic smile upon your lips before you ask him, “Are you a fool, G’raha Tia?”

He puts his hands over yours and, again, it takes his brain several long seconds to comprehend what just happened. “I…” He licks his lips. He wants to taste you, feel you, in ways he could have only imagined before. A world, a future is opening up before him, and he wants to see where it leads. “I may be a fool, but not such a deplorable one.”

You roll your eyes but there’s a faint embarrassed smile trying to hide in your face. “It’s not deplorable to not want me, G’raha.”

“We must agree to disagree.” Something snaps and he whips his head around, but there is nothing to be seen, no hogs in the wind, and he relaxes with a sigh. He winks at you. “I must say though, your choice of locale for such a stirring confession is a bit…odd.”

You chuckle and put your hands on his shoulders. “We first met here, so technically it’s where we first started our working relationship,” you say. “I thought it would be nice symmetry if we started our new relationship here too.”

He finds the suggestion…strangely appealing. Perhaps he is odd too, then. To be as odd as his Warrior of Light– well, there are much worst things in the world to be. He puts his hands on your sides and walks forward, guiding you along, until your back meets a rocky wall and he pushes in for a deeper kiss to sate his newfound hunger. Or perhaps it is a thirst he knows he will never quench. It matters not– you are more precious than water in an oasis, and he intends to savor every drop.

---

Decades later and a world away…

G’raha doesn’t know what he’s in for with your invitation to meet him out by the main gate, but he goes with a sense of curiosity and naught else. The night is cool, with a light breeze that blows pleasantly against his face as he walks. He nods in response to those that greet him as he passes by, but, curiously, there is no one present when he arrives outside the Crystarium– no one but you, and you walk up to him with a smile that reaches his heart. It’s embarrassing how quickly you can reduce him to an adolescent miqo’te with his first crush.

He clears his throat and tries to focus on something else. “Where is the guard?”

“Shift change.” You pull him close by his robes. “We have one minute and thirty-seven seconds at most.”

“To do what?” G’raha asks, laughing.

You answer him with a kiss. A deep kiss, dizzying, more than welcome, and G’raha returns it with all the hunger he has felt for far too long, tasting, touching, feeling you in a way that is so intensely personal and warm and wonderful and familiar in a way that makes him realize how much he has ached without your touch. It is, alas, too short, but you both pant in the wake of it.

“Oh…” G’raha gently touches your cheek and his soul sings as you lean into his hand. He licks his lips. He wants more, but the way you shift your eyes towards the gate makes him conscientious of the privacy you’ll soon lack. “I wasn’t sure if…”

“I’m sorry it took so long to arrange,” you say and take his hand to start leading him up the path back to the city. He will follow you wherever, if only you keep your hand in his to guide him. “I knew you probably didn’t want to do that in front of the guards, so I had to watch them to see when we would have a chance.”

But why do it out in the open at all? Why that road? G’raha doesn’t want to ask a question he should perhaps already know the answer to, but curiosity burns at him until he stops and grips your hand to keep you from slipping away. You turn back to look at him and he clears his throat nervously. “Pray forgive me but…why that particular spot?”

Thankfully you don’t seem offended by his question. Instead you grow a wide smile– nay, a full grin. “Do you remember…it’s been a long time, but do you remember the first time we ever kissed?”

“In the Shroud?” he asks. As though he could have ever forgotten; it was only ninety percent of the daydreams he’d had to soothe his mind and soul when the weight of his duty had nearly gotten to be too much. How you tasted, how you felt, how he had felt towards you– it had never failed to stir his heart and renew his commitment to his course to save you at any cost.

“You had followed me around all morning so I led you back to the Shroud, back to where we first met.” You step closer to him and his arms slide around you in automatic response. “At the time I wasn’t completely sure if you liked me like that, but I took a chance and it seemed appropriate to have our first kiss where we first met.”

Slowly, G’raha starts to understand. “Where we first…met. I see.” He cannot help his smile even though it feels so wide as to be ridiculous, and he pulls his hood over his eyes to try and hide how red his face must be for how warm it feels. But he covers the act with, “Perhaps this would have been more appropriate then?”

You laugh and G’raha thinks it shouldn’t be possible to be this happy, after so many decades of pain and fear and loss and longing, but he surges forward to kiss you again and you return the act in full.

“Mm, well,” you drawl sarcastically and gently run your thumb over his bottom lip. “I admit I did spend many a night wondering why on earth I couldn’t stop fantasizing about the Crystal Exarch’s mouth.”

“Oh?” His lips curl of their own accord as he thinks about it– because you would have a crisis about wanting to kiss a man you thought you didn’t know. The idea of you lusting after him though serves to boost his confidence and he pulls you to his body suddenly, tightly. “And what about G’raha Tia’s mouth?”

Your eyes soften. “Ridiculous man,” you say and kiss him again. “You still are, have always been, my G’raha, even when I didn’t know it. But I do now, and if you’ll have me I promise I love you just as much as I did then.”

“I’m not the same as I was,” G’raha says but leans in to nuzzle you.

“Neither am I. So…” You gesture at the gate. “Here’s to new beginnings?”

G’raha smiles. Perhaps he does not deserve to be so happy when his plans went so awry and only worked out due to your sheer stubbornness, but he has never thought himself so austere as to deny himself what he wants when it seems to want him just as much. So he leans in, takes your lips in his, and kisses you tenderly, savoring every second he can, before he pulls back just slightly and whispers, “To new beginnings.”

[citydreamgrls]

they were roommates - part six

a weasley twins x fem!reader fic

summary: she had nowhere to go, fleeing home to pursue something along the lines of freedom, so being welcomed into the entrepreneurial twins life was a whole world of new experiences waiting to happen.

an: i apologise for how long it has taken me to update this series, i promise it has not been forgotten. after all the lovely messages complimenting this series, i wanted to make each new part just as perfect for you all so i’ve been dwelling over decisions etc... also! thank you, omg omg, for 900 followers, it’s mental it’s obscene, i genuinely squealed out loud when i saw. also thank you to everyone who continues to support my work, you are all my lifeline, hope you enjoy, love always <333

words: 4,436

It was late, but Fred couldn’t for the life of him shut off the constant flow of thoughts that plagued his mind as he laid awake in bed. That and the drilling sound of rain on the loft’s roof forced him to get up and pace around the kitchen while he waited for the kettle to boil.

With an old tea-stained between his two hands, the man perched on the back of the sofa to get a better view of muggle London's skyline. It hadn’t been until the girl had pointed out it’s beauty that he really stopped to give it a good look. Now since then he had discovered a newfound peace in watching the little cars run along the road, the twinkling lights ever changing and moving around. It was like the stars.

Fred had presumed the girl had slipped in earlier, knowing that he wouldn’t have heard it from all the way at the top of the building, so jumped quite a bit when the door to the loft opened behind him.

The girl seemed just as surprised to see him awake at such an odd hour, taking a step back in hesitation, her heels echoing on the wooden floorboards. Her hair was damp from the rain, but she still looked just as beautiful as when she left. As perfect as when he’d first seen her behind the bar at the leaky cauldron all those months ago.

“Can’t sleep?” She asked, kicking off her shoes and tiptoeing over to him with a small smile. He nodded, letting her settle herself beside him in a similar position. Her eyes lit up at the sight before them both, the orange glow reflecting onto her slightly flushed cheeks.

“Good night?” He braved, fearing the answer.

“It was… nice.” They nodded together, neither one of them sure of how to approach the subject of dating older brothers.

The silence grew on them, that previous tension rippling away as y/n rested her head on Fred’s shoulder. No doubt giving herself the chance to fully think over the last twenty four hours.

“It was just nice.” She finally sighed, her cold hands playing about with the hem of her dress.

“Really?” Fred was genuinely caught off guard by this, thinking back to how happy the girl and Bill had seemed together. The way both of them just clicked, it had to have worked out, right?

“Don’t get me wrong he’s lovely, and a true gentleman, but it was just that-” The man watched her face as she spoke, her eyes never leaving the lights. The girl knew if she looked over at him that she would break.

“Bill’s always been the perfect one,” Fred laughed lightly, taking a sip of his tea and offering it out to the girl. Her fingertips burnt against the heat of it as she took it, but it wasn’t even noticeable over the thoughts rushing through her head. “I’m surprised, I thought you two were really gonna work.”

Y/n wanted to scream out in frustration, hating the way that she played around with how she felt all because Bill was there and willing when Fred didn’t seem to be.

“So did I, but he just- he… he wasn’t…” Fred “It doesn’t matter.” She finished.

“He wasn’t what?” The man asked.

“It wasn’t what I expected… that’s all.” She lied.

In fact, her date with the older Weasley brother had gone exactly as she had expected it to do so after the break-in. When she finally realised that there was only one person who would risk everything for her, and he had been the one to look after her all day, selflessly.

She went on the date out of courtesy, knowing that it wouldn’t give her the kind of butterflies she got when Fred looked her in the eyes. Nothing else would, that was one thing she knew for certain. She also knew that she wanted to look at him more than anything, but held herself back a little longer.

“He feels the same,” That was true.

“Really? He does?” Fred cursed himself for sounding so excited, but the girl looked none the wiser. She nodded.

“We get on, that’s obvious, but I don’t think it’s anything more than simple attraction.”

The mug got passed between them until it ran dry, the man retreating back to the kitchen to make them another. He knew she had only said yes to stall them a bit longer, there was no way she wanted to go back into her room alone. So if she wanted to stay awake and chat with him a little longer, he would do so, it wasn’t like he was going to drift off anytime soon.

When he brought her a tea of her own she was stood up, facing the window and breathing slow, deep breaths. Not even the sound of the porcelain against the coffee table stirred her.

“Y/n?” He called to her, hushed, but she didn’t move. Fred frowned, walking over carefully as not to spook her. “You okay?” He placed a hand on her shoulder, waiting for a small squeal or a jump. But she was frozen on the spot. “You’re freezing.” He exclaimed, not having felt the way her skin had chilled from the rain.

“Freddie?” She asked, stopping him as he went to fetch her a blanket to warm up in. He stopped, moving closer again, seeing her face glowing orange against the lights once again.

“Yes?”

“Thank you…” It sounded like she was deep in thought, like her words were coming out before her head could even comprehend it.

“What for?” The man was confused, never having seen her zone out this way before.

Her head turned slightly, her glassy eyes meeting his after what felt like years. Fred felt his heart pause for a moment, without his doing, the sight before him was one that he wished to frame in a gallery for all to see. Yet it was just them in this silent moment, one that he longed to last forever.

“Everything…” It was a little more than a whisper, like a gentle plea. Her face leant closer, titing to fit perfectly against his. The man’s breath was stolen away in one brief second, as her lips locked onto his. It felt like seeing the sun after years of being in darkness, in fact, she felt like the warmth of sunlight against his skin as they touched.

Her cool hands reached for his neck, fingertips playing over him like they were dancing. The man sighed out in content, his own body finally kicking in and holding her waist with an intense grip. She felt like heaven, like his angel.

Freddie wanted it to last forever, he wanted her to last forever. But she jumped away, like the man’s lips had shocked her. The girl looked down at her feet, breathing heavily from the lack of air and staring at the floorboards as if they were bearing a message.

“I’m so sorry.” She groaned out. “It’s okay.” He tried to reassure her, but she backed away from him like she didn’t trust herself. That beautiful moment, those stolen moments that he had longed for, looked to be her biggest regret.

“I’m an idiot, god, you must-” “Y/n stop.” He reached out and rubbed the side of her arm carefully, bowing his head to look at her properly. But she didn’t dare look into his eyes again. She couldn’t risk it.

“It’s j-just been a long day,” She sighed, falling back onto the sofa and out of his reach.

She wavered as she spoke, her voice threatening to break into a string of sobs.

“Hey, hey, let’s get you to bed huh?” Fred’s voice was soothing, his smile comforting as he offered out a hand for her to take.

She went with him like a child who needed caring for, her footsteps slow and unbalanced as Fred took her up the small set of stairs to his room. He watched her get into his bed, still dressed in the outfit she’d left the loft in, and bury herself beneath the covers.

“I’ll be on the sofa if you need me,” He told her quietly, waiting by the door. The bedside lamp was still on, but it seemed like the girl wasn’t going to make any moves to change that, so he left it alone.

She nodded in response, her head facing the small window as the rain continued to fall down against it.

“That way if anyone tries to get in, they’ll need to fight me off first.” He joked, a small giggle sounding from the mass amounts of duvet around the girl’s head. Fred went to leave, a small voice stopping him.

“Freddie?”

“What is it darling?” The girl froze again, somewhat amazed that he wasn’t back to his unusually cold ways once again.

“Thanks, again… I won’t kiss you this time though- I promise.” She chuckled, her cheeks a little red as she sat up to face him in the doorway, a brave smile on her face even as while she felt like crying.

“You’re dangerous you know,” He scoffed, smiling sweetly. “Goodnight y/n.”

-

Fred thought it best that the girl rested up while he worked in the shop, leaving her to sleep in while George opened up. She had been confused, for a number of reasons, when she woke up in Fred’s bed still wearing her white dress.

It all came back to her. The unfulfilling date with Bill, the rain that she’d stood beneath as she saw a figure walk around in the loft above, the lights from the living room window, the kiss with fred.

“Oh you idiot!” She groaned again, reliving the moment that she’d realised how stupid she was being. He had spent the past week being a mute around her, and now she was dropping to her knees after one day of kindness. After all that, she had still thought there was a chance he liked her back.

She stumbled back to her room, still half-asleep, ignoring the way George frowned at her appearance as he served a customer on the tills. The room was still cluttered from the break-in, glass on the floor and a shattered lamp by the bed.

It had felt like a cage at the time, trapped in those stranger’s arms, but as she waved her wand and watched the mess disappear before her eyes, the memories didn’t seem all that constant anymore.

The girl looked into the small wardrobe, her collection of clothes barely filling it half-way, and picked out a black skirt and white shirt to pull on.

“Damn.” She looked in the mirror, her only bra’s black fabric showing through the button up. “Suppose I was too cold anyway.” The girl shrugged, grabbing a sweater vest and pulling it over the top.

“Scourgify.” She whispered, too behind on the day to waste time with a shower.

She was sitting on the small chair at her desk, pulling on a pair of boots so that she could leave the room and finally face the day with what little respect she had left for herself. But as her head lifted she spotted her pile of blank parchment stacked on the table before her.

The twins wouldn’t even notice her absence a few minutes more as she scratched out a quick letter, the girl decided, dipping her quill into the golden ink pot her father had gifted her one childhood birthday. It was one of the only things they had given her that she felt important enough to run away with.

Her thoughts felt rushed as she wrote, but all the same she didn’t hesitate to make her point very clear. Dear Bill, had felt appropriate, given that she praised him so highly in her mind. He was the perfect match, handsome and kind, and an all-round gentleman. But he wasn’t her perfect match, a fact that she was certain he already knew.

The final signature of her name was shaky, and full of nerves as it finally hit her that she was back to square one. Still confused, still wondering, and still somewhat alone.

-

George smiled widely when the girl reappeared from her bedroom, wearing a fresh set of clothes, and looking a bit more aware of everything as she approached him.

“Morning,” He grinned, leaning against the counter like he was expecting something from her. “Did you just get in?” He asked, regarding her previous outfit.

“No, I slept in Fred’s bed- where’s your owl I need to send a letter.”

The man almost choked on his sip of coffee, struggling to find the right words as she looked around for the bird that often perched on the higher shelves.

“You slept with Fred?” He gasped, but the girl wasn’t concentrating on him as she walked off, the envelope gripped between her two fingers.

Fred was busy looking over some invoices, and didn’t spot her pass by, so George dragged him over to the counter, where they were free of customers for the moment.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He hissed, pulling his brother closer as the girl wandered around nearby.

“Jesus George, what are you on about- let go of me.” He swatted the man’s hand away, taking a few hesitant steps away.

“You slept with y/n?” He accused him.

“No-” “Well she said she slept in your bed.”

“Yeah, I was on the sofa though. Just figured she wouldn’t want to be in her room after the other night, you know.”

George nodded slowly, choosing to believe his brother. After all, he would have been able to tell if the two of them actually had slept together, because fred would be jumping around the shop instead of walking.

“Is she okay?” Fred asked his brother, finally seeing her for the first time that morning, as she watched their owl fly out the open window.

“Not sure, she seemed a bit distracted this morning, how was she last night? Did she mention how the date went?” George wanted to know every detail, preferably from the girl herself, but it was obvious that would be harder than expected given that she had barely acknowledged their previous conversation.

“She said it was nice.” Fred told him. “Then she kissed me.”

“She what!” George’s voice was nothing shy of a yell, catching the attention of a small group of kids browsing their newest stock of screaming yo-yos.

“Keep it down will you?” His brother dragged him further behind the counter, out of sight of the girl, who hadn’t moved from her spot since her letter had been taken off into the sky.

“What about Bill- does he- oh god he’s gonna kill you!” George rambled, seemingly going through all stages of grief. If he had thought things were complicated for his twin before, this new information was sure to rock the boat.

“She’s not sure about Bill, I don’t think she had the best time on their date - and besides,” He peeked around the corner, making sure no one was going to walk into the middle of their hushed conversation. “-I don’t think the kiss meant much to her.” George’s face dropped. He hadn’t thought about Fred, or how it would bother him. His twin didn’t seem visibly annoyed by any of it, but he knew it would crush him to be toyed with by the girl he was so obviously infatuated with.

“So she doesn’t like Bill, and she doesn’t want you either?” “It’s not that simple Georgie.” Fred sighed, backing away and leaning up against the cool wall behind them. “It was pretty sudden, she probably wasn’t even thinking straight.”

“But-” “People are allowed to make mistakes, we can’t be annoyed because she messed up one time.” He explained, turning to leave.

“Freddie, you’re not the-” “I know.” He lied. He was the mistake.

-

For the rest of the day all three of the workers kept to themselves, finding solitary jobs to do to pass the time whenever the stream of customers died down. George knew he couldn’t say anything to the girl, presuming that she too had enough to deal with, but part of him resented her for putting Freddie through so much pain. Not that she even knew it.

It was dark when they finally closed up, the autumn season bringing with it shorter days of sunlight. Fred was busy in their office sorting out orders and George was counting up the day’s earnings, while y/n tidied shelves all around her.

The redhead could see how her eyes drifted to the same window she had watched out of earlier that morning, most likely expecting a response from whoever it was she had written to.

“I’ll meet you upstairs,” He came up behind her, the sound of his voice a surprise to the girl as she tensed up slightly. The man gave her a sympathetic smile as she nodded. “I’m cooking dinner tonight by the way, so um- bring the fire extinguisher will you?” He chuckled, a pang in his chest when she smiled weakly.

He had no real reason to hate her, especially since Freddie was forgiving of her moment of weakness. If he could be okay with it, then George would be to. It was as simple as that.

The man had been cooking for all of five minutes when his twin came to join him, offering to help out given that the girl would most likely not be up until the owl returned. They worked away in shared silence, the faint radio doing wonders to break the possible tension in the air.

George was pouring out a bottle of wine into three glasses when the girl padded into the kitchen, her big boots forgotten and a thick cardigan wrapped around her sunken frame. The two men stopped in their tracks at the sight of a piece of parchment between her fingers.

“I thought I should let you both know- because he’s your brother- and well, you deserve to know. But, there’s nothing between Bill and I anymore.” She croaked out, making it obvious that she had been crying.

“Oh- darling,” George whispered, reaching out on instinct for her to sink into his arms. It was strange, hearing it from Fred had filled him with so much anger, but then seeing how upset she was about it changed everything. Her body felt small against him, like she had sunk into the ground with every step up to the loft.

There was a small sob from the girl, almost incoherent, before she leant back and wiped her eyes dry, putting on her best smile and sighing.

“It’s okay, everything’s fine- it’s for the best.” She told them, laughing lightly at the way Fred held out the wine to her, unsure what else would help in that moment with his brother already comforting the girl.

-

The subject of Bill was avoided for most of the night, as they ate dinner together and finished off another couple bottles of wine between them as if things were normal again. George, of course, acted like the true older brother he was and did all he could to make sure y/n was cared for.

Fred took the backseat, letting her be doted on like a child with scraped knees, in fact it was a similar scene to when their own mother could comfort them when they were younger. That must have been where George got it from.

After a while Fred’s other half passed out on the back of the sofa, half-empty glass of wine still in hand. The girl chuckled, her mind still on other things as they kept quiet as not to wake the sleeping man.

“You tired?” Fred whispered, his legs slumped onto the coffee table. The girl just shook her head, the smile on her face fading as she realised that was the first time he’d spoken to her directly all evening.

The man stood up, taking an unopened bottle from the table and nodded towards the door.

“What?” She asked, hesitant to follow.

“I wanna show you something.” He smiled sweetly, slipping a pair of shoes on and heading for the loft door.

He disappeared into the darkness, the faint sound of the girl’s questioning tone following him out to the shop landing.

“Where are you going?” She asked, seeing him push back the curtain that turned left at the top of the stairs, instead of right into the loft. “I thought there wasn’t anything back here.”

“There isn’t, just a load of junk.” He told her, talking normally now that george was out of earshot. “But at the end of this hallway,” He flicked his wand, letting the small ball of light show the way, “-there’s a ladder.��� “Fred, can you just tell me what’s going on.” “No freddie?” He frowned childishly, his face cast into a shadow.

“Huh?” “You always call me freddie, why not now?” The girl blushed at the way he picked up on a habit even she had failed to notice all this time, shoving his shoulder in an attempt to distract him.

“Because you’re leading me down a creepy hallway, possibly to kill me, in the middle of the night.”

Fred scoffed, ignoring her to climb a few rungs up the ladder.

“Well if I took you in the daytime,” He stopped climbing. “Then the view wouldn’t be so good now would it?” The man smirked.

“What view?”

One hand reached up above his head, the small bit of light from his wand revealing a trap door. Fred pushed it open, the stars above them shining down as he stuck his head out the top.

“This view!” He announced, jumped out of the trap door and onto the roof, leaning down to offer a hand for the girl below. Her jaw hung open in awe as she caught her footing on the top of the building, the sight of the city even further below taking her breath away.

“I knew you’d like it,” Freddie laughed, sitting at the edge and pulling open the wine bottle. Behind him, the girl’s eyes shone.

“Why haven’t you ever mentioned this place?” She was still in shock, the roof couldn’t even be seen from the alley below them, it was so high up.

“It’s sort of my secret, even from George.” “You haven’t told him? Surely he must know about it?” She laughed, taking a seat beside him and drinking from the bottle he offered out to her.

“Well I stumbled across it the day we moved in, we had no use for that weird hallway so neither of us bothered to do anything with it. We only found out about it when we got a leak, and George made me go up here and fix it.”

“Still, he knows the roof is here.” She scoffed, leaning into his side as the sight before her became hypnotising against his words.

“Of course, except he thinks it’s smashed to pieces and basically too dangerous to venture onto.” Fred explained.

“Why would he think that?” “Because that’s what I told him, duh.” He shook her one shoulder, leaving an outstretched arm around her as she rested against him so naturally.

“You really are cruel Fred Weasley.” She laughed.

Fred looked down, not trying to catch her eye, but just to take her all in as they basked in this beautiful moment. He had missed her laughter, even if it had only been a short amount of time, and hearing it again felt like a wave of calm washing over him.

-

The pair of them stayed up on that roof all night, their legs swinging off the side of the building until y/n fell asleep slumped against Fred. The man decided it was best to let her lay down away from the edge, just in case she slumped too far forward and fell.

He watched her sleep for a few moments, then laid on his back beside her and watched the stars as they twinkled above them. The girl beside him murmured in her sleep, something he had noticed when she had slept under his watch after the break-in.

At the time he had assumed it was just because she was having nightmares, but now he was close enough to catch passing words as they fell from her dainty lips.

Sorry… I can’t …. Please d-don’t

“Y/n,” He whispered, shaking her shoulder slightly. “Come on, let’s go inside.” “Not yet.” She mumbled back, rolling onto her back and breathing a few heavy breaths.

He let her watch the sky in silence, fearful that he would break her moment of solace with any stupid statement.

“I wrote to Bill.” She said, her gaze unmoving.

“Oh- right…” “It was his reply that I had earlier, that’s why I was - you know.”

“Of course, I’m sorry about all that.” Fred didn’t want to pry any further, but the girl wanted him to know.

“I don’t think either of us really expected things to be so- just okay-” “I get that,” The man nodded.

“He wasn’t right for me, and I wasn’t right for him either- it’s just hard to admit it.”

The skin on her hand was cold as she reached for fred’s, slipping their fingers together gently as she spoke.

“It’s funny really- he said something in his letter about you.” She chuckled, finally looking over at the man who couldn’t take his own eyes off of her.

“Oh god, I can’t imagine it was anything good.” He scoffed, smiling at her rosy cheeks.

“Actually… he said he thinks we might be a good match.”

“Did you-” “No, I didn’t tell him a-about the kiss.” She seemed ashamed again, the same way she had the night it had happened.

“So he just has this feeling about us?” Fred asked, an air of disbelief in his words.

The girl laid her head back again, nestling into the man’s side and looking up again as they hid out on the highest point of the alleyway. Bill had to be right about them.

Y/n hadn’t met many people in her lonely life but she knew that, as Fred held her close, no one else compared to the way he made her feel. She would give up everything if it meant just one more night of staring up at the stars with him at her side.

“I think he’s right.” The deep voice beside her spoke, with searing pride.

[kiapet2]

where the two ends meet

The newly-elevated Crown Prince Roman knows two things:

First, that his brother is dead.

And second, that it is his fault.

But when Roman journeys into the witch’s forest on a quest of penitence, he discovers that there is more to the story than he could have known. What he finds there may be his salvation— or his ruin.

Takes place after @whenisitenoughtrees‘s fic thrice for another day. Can also be read on its own.

Pairings: Platonic Creativitwins, Background Intrulogical

Word Count: 4,029

Warnings: death mention, grief/mourning, blood and injury, abusive parents

AO3 Link

Nearly a month after his family buries an empty coffin, the newly-elevated Crown Prince Roman slips out from his castle room and walks alone into the forest.

Unlike past evenings, Roman does not turn into the stretch of woods closest to the castle. At this point, he could likely name every rock and tree and still not find what he’s looking for. Instead, he walks in a straight line, heading deeper and deeper into the woods.

There is said to be a witch at the center of this forest, one who preys on the surrounding villages and whom no man should approach lest he meet his end. Roman had once thought to adventure into the woods to slay such a foul creature, but his intention tonight is far different. He has need of help only a wielder of magic can provide.

And if the venture is to end in his death, so be it.

...

Roman hasn’t been walking for long when he becomes aware of someone following him. The feeling comes and goes— a tingling on the back of his neck, like he’s being watched— but as Roman scans the woods around him, he cannot detect any signs of unusual activity.

The third time he feels the presence, Roman comes to a sudden halt and places a hand on the hilt of his sword.

“Show yourself, whoever you are!” he calls, then scans the trees around him for any sign of a response.

“Why have you entered my woods?” an irritated voice says from somewhere behind him.

Roman whirls around and draws his sword in a single, fluid motion.

The person standing behind him raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. Roman takes the man in: dark hair, a sharp-featured tan face, and piercing dark blue eyes that seem to peer straight to Roman’s core through a pair of wire-rimmed glasses. Despite the man’s simple clothing, Roman knows with a deep certainty that this is the witch.

Ignoring all his instincts, Roman sheaves his sword and holds out his empty hands in a gesture of peace.

“I have been searching for you,” he says. “I have a request to make of you, and am prepared to reward you well.”

“I don’t make a habit of dealing with royalty,” the witch says coldly.

Roman’s eyes widen in surprise.

“Yes, I know who you are, Prince Roman of Thaylar,” the witch says, “and I am surprised you would dare come here, considering your family history. You are either very brave, or very foolish.”

“Both,” Roman says, “but I mean you no harm. If you would hear me out—”

Dark blue energy forms in the witch’s hand. “I have nothing to hear from you, witch-killer. I would advise that you vacate my premises, before I am forced to take action.”

Roman swallows and takes an involuntary step back. Perhaps he should listen to the witch’s warning, abandon this fruitless quest and return to his bed.

It’s not worth it, his father had said after they found Remus’ trail leading to the forest. He couldn’t have gotten far anyways.

Roman straightens his spine and lifts his chin. He owes this to his brother— owes him so much more than this, but it’s the only thing left that Roman can do.

“I only wish to find my brother’s body,” Roman says, “So that I might bury him. Aid me in this and I will ask of you nothing more.”

The witch seems to search Roman’s face for something, his expression unreadable. Then he nods once, sharply.

“That, I can answer easily enough.”

Without another word, the witch turns on his heel and heads off into the forest. Roman hurries to catch up, biting back the urge to question where they are going. The walk lasts far longer than it feels like it should, and Roman suspects the witch is leading him around in circles so he will not be able to tell how to get into his lair. Or how to get out, some part of his mind whispers. He shoves it aside.

Finally, they reach a small clearing with a wooden cottage that looks surprisingly simple and well-kept for a witch’s lair. The witch leads Roman around the back of the house to an herb garden, stopping at a small pile of stones. For a moment Roman wonders what spell the witch intends to cast here; then the shape of the stones registers fully.

A cairn.

“I found him a little ways out from here,” the witch says. “His ribs had broken and pierced his lungs, and he’d been bleeding internally. It was a miracle he managed to make it even that far.”

Roman lowers himself to his knees and hesitantly places a hand on the upturned earth, trying to comprehend that under it is all that remains of his brother. Even now, it feels like all of this is a terrible dream, and one day he’ll wake up and Remus will be alive and driving him crazy again.

“I am sorry for your loss,” the witch says stiffly.

Roman’s chest feels tight, and he swallows past something lodged in his throat.

“He would like being buried here, by the garden,” he chokes out. “He always went on about how everyone becomes food for worms and fungus eventually. If you were to grow your strangest plants over his grave, it would have made him very happy.”

It feels wrong, to speak of his brother in the past tense.

“Might I ask what happened?”

Roman squeezes his eyes shut, holding back the tears that burn at their corners. He doesn’t deserve to cry, not over this.

“I gave him up as a witch,” he whispers. It’s the first time he’s said it out loud, and the words seem to grate and tear at his throat. “He trusted me with his life, and I betrayed him.”

The silence behind Roman is telling.

“Thank you,” Roman rasps, “For putting him to rest.”

He stays there, kneeling in the dirt, long after the witch has returned inside.

...

Remus cries out as he tumbles into the tower room’s wall, jarring harshly against the rough stone.

“Father,” Remus cries, “Father, wait—”

“You are no son of mine!” Father snarls, lifting Remus by the front of his shirt. “Foul demon!”

Roman’s mind screams at him to do something, to run forward and grab Remus or yell at his father to stop but instead he just stands there, frozen in horror, as in one great motion his father shoves Remus through the tower’s window and dangles him out over open air.

Time seems to slow as Father screams curse after curse in Remus’ face, as Remus clutches at the hands holding him above a dizzying drop. Remus’ gaze slides over to meet Roman’s, and for one terrible moment Roman sees in his eyes pure devastation. The agony of betrayal.

And then Father releases his hold, and Remus is gone.

Roman wakes up screaming.

He rolls over onto his side and curls up in a ball, taking harsh, gasping breaths. It takes a moment for him to register that he’s not standing in the castle tower staring in horror at the empty space where his brother used to be— the space that was right there in front of him as if Roman could have reached out and touched him but he was already gone and it was too late—

Breathe.

Roman closes his eyes and listens. In place of the screams that still ring in his head, he hears only the sound of wind swishing through trees. He reaches a hand out and feels loose dirt beneath him. He’s lying on the ground, outside. Roman opens his eyes and sees a dark sky full of stars.

Perhaps Remus is among those stars now. Would he like that? He’d probably think it was boring, to be honest. The thought brings a slight smile to Roman’s face.

Roman sits up, focusing on his breathing. It takes another moment for him to recognize where he is: the witch’s clearing, right by Remus’s... by the grave. It is dark except for the light of the moon— full, a poor omen. Roman had meant to be home by this time as the forest becomes vastly more dangerous at night, but apparently his many nights of lost sleep have finally caught up to him. There’s no use to it now; he’ll just have to wait for the light of dawn to find his way home.

Father will not be happy when Roman returns after dawn has already broken.

Roman has been much less concerned with keeping his father happy, as of late.

No, what bothers him most is why he’s been allowed to stay here at all. Considering the witch’s initial hostility to him, Roman figured admitting to turning in his own brother for using magic would result in being thrown out at best and murdered in his sleep at worst. And yet here he is, sitting in the witch’s clearing un-murdered.

Roman reaches out and touches Remus’s cairn with reverent fingers. He can’t bring himself to regret falling asleep here, dangerous though it may have been. It feels right to have slept beside his brother one last time.

“Well isn’t this sweet! Roro, I didn’t know you cared so much.”

Roman freezes. He knows that voice. But— but that’s impossible—

Roman scrambles to his feet and turns, heart in his throat.

Remus stands before him, illuminated by the light of the moon. He’s clad in the clothes he died in— Roman would know, he sees them in his dreams every night— and there’s a stain of something brown on his shoulder and neckline that Roman doesn’t particularly want to identify.

Roman gapes. “Re, what— how—”

Remus’ smile is bright, but his eyes are cold. “I think you know, Roman.”

Roman feels the blood drain from his face.

They’ve all heard the legends: spirits of magic-users who roam the earth, invested with their magical power and seeking vengeance on those who wronged them. Roman’s father once taught him the proper ways to... dispose of... witches to prevent such a phenomenon from happening. It was Roman’s least favorite lesson by far.

“There it is!” Remus cheers as the comprehension dawns on Roman’s face.

Roman falls to his knees, trembling.

“Remus,” he breathes, “Remus, I—”

He breaks off, lost for words. Roman has thought about what he would say to Remus if he had the chance dozens of times, dreamed up countless scenarios where he prostrated himself and begged for forgiveness or explained himself in a way Remus would understand. Now that he’s actually here, those dreams seem childish and futile in the face of everything that’s happened.

“So funny story,” Remus says, “I’ve thought it over and someone must have told the king about me, right? But I never practiced where anyone could see, and there’s only one person I ever shared my secret with. The person I always shared everything with. Got any idea who that could be, brother?”

Roman’s stomach feels like lead, and he can’t bring himself to look Remus in the eye.

Remus laughs softly. “That’s what I thought.”

His face twists in sudden fury and he shoots forward, getting in Roman’s face and forcing him to flinch back.

“Do you know how it feels, Roman? To have every bone in your body shattered, shards of your own ribs stabbing your insides until you drown in your own blood? Do you know how it feels to lie helpless and dying on the forest floor, knowing your corpse will stay there forgotten, with you replaced without a second thought? How it feels to be betrayed by your own twin, the one person in the world you’d thought you could trust?”

“Stop!” Roman cries, clutching at his head.

“Aw, is baby Roman too sensitive for all that?” Remus croons mockingly, pacing around him. “Do we need to protect his innocent little ears from the icky details of his brother’s brutal murder?”

Tears gather in Roman’s eyes, and he struggles to keep them from falling.

“Remus, I swear, I never meant for any of this to happen.”

“Then what did you want? Why did you do it, Ro? Did you want my throne that much? Or did you just hate witches more than you loved—”

“No!” Roman protests. “No, Remus, I could never hate you!”

“Then why?” Remus says, and the raw pain that fills his voice is so much worse than the anger. “Why did you tell him?”

Roman’s throat is tight and his eyes burn, but he forces the words out anyways. Remus deserves to know.

“Y-you kept hurting yourself. You’d come in bleeding and half-dead from experimenting with your magic and you wouldn’t see a doctor and, and I thought that one day you were going to kill yourself and it would be my fault for not stopping you. I thought if I— if I told Father, h-he would make you stop—”

Remus laughs bitterly. “You thought old daddy dearest, who has scores of magic users killed every year, would what— let me off with a warning?”

Roman flinches. “You’re his son! I didn’t— he was understanding before when I—”

“He was understanding of you,” Remus says. “You are his son. I’m sure he was thrilled at the chance to get rid of me.”

“I’m sorry.” The words force their way out in a whimper, and Roman’s stomach twists at their inadequacy.

“You’re sorry,” Remus says flatly.

Roman’s response catches in his throat, and instead he just bows his head, refusing to defend himself further. Nothing can make up for what he’s done.

Remus laughs suddenly, loud and manic. He snaps his fingers and mutters under his breath, and Roman is lifted into the air, a gentle pressure holding his arms against his sides with far more control than Remus ever had in life.

Remus gives him a vicious grin. “And what if I said ‘sorry’ wasn’t enough? What if I said I was going to have my vengeance, right here and right now?”

Roman’s tears finally overflow, and with them the pain that has been building ever since Remus went out that window.

“Do it,” he sobs. “Kill me.”

“What?” Remus says, sounding startled.

Roman bawls, not the pretty tears of the heroes in his books, but in wracking sobs that tear at his throat and send streams of tears and snot running down his face.

“Please, just kill me. I killed you. I killed you, and I’m so sorry, I’m sorry I killed you.” He cuts off with another sob. “Do whatever you want with me, please, I deserve it. I deserve it.”

The force holding Roman releases and he drops heavily to the ground. He curls up, chest heaving, and waits for the first blow to fall.

But the touch that falls on his arm isn’t painful; it’s soft and warm. It pulls him up and holds him tightly against a chest that is solid, breathing, beating.

Alive.

“I’m not going to kill you, Roman,” Remus says, his voice strangely choked, and Roman can feel it reverberating through his chest. “You’re my brother.”

Roman’s heart feels like it’s going to pound out of his chest. Remus, he’s... he... how did he—

The world spins, and Roman sees a brief flash of Remus’ worried face before everything goes dark.

...

“Roman! Roman, please!” Remus screams. He clutches at Roman’s hands where they grip his shirt, his face a mask of terror as his legs dangle over nothingness.

Roman fights desperately, screaming from deep within his mind, but his body doesn’t move.

“Why, Roman? I’m your brother!” Remus whimpers, tears gathering in his eyes.

Roman hammers at the boundaries of his mind but is helpless to stop it as his hands steadily, inexorably loosen.

Remus screams again as he slips through Roman’s fingers and falls into the darkness.

“Roman!”

“Roman! Roman, wake up!”

Roman jolts awake, his heart pounding as he gasps for breath.

“Ro? Hey, can you hear me?”

Roman blinks blearily and a face fades into focus above him. Worried red eyes, that ghastly mustache, a white streak in his hair...

“Re?” he croaks.

Remus grins. “There we are!”

“Remus,” Roman breathes. He reaches out with one shaking hand to cup Remus’s face and feels warm flesh beneath his fingers. “Are you really here? Or— or am I dead?”

Remus gives him a lopsided smile. “Takes more than getting thrown out of a tower and smashing my bones to smithereens to kill me!”

Roman surges upwards, wrapping his arms around his brother and burying his face in his shoulder.

“Hey, come on,” Remus says as Roman begins to shake, his tears wetting Remus’ shirt. “You’re going to dry yourself up if you keep crying this much. Just shrivel up like a human raisin until you end up a dried-out mummy and someone finds you like a thousand years later and wonders what the hell happened.”

The thought is so gross and ridiculous and Remus that Roman finds himself laughing through his tears.

“Gods above, I missed you.”

Composing himself, Roman pulls back and looks Remus over. He’s wearing simple, weathered clothing, his hair is an absolute mess and there are dark bags under his eyes. He’s the most beautiful thing Roman has ever seen.

“How?” Roman says, his voice cracking with emotion. “I thought you were— that I’d— How are you even here right now?”

“I healed a bit and then dragged myself here,” Remus says. “Logan did the rest.”

Remus looks back over his shoulder with a surprisingly soft smile, and for the first time since waking Roman tears his gaze away from his brother’s face to look at where they are. Roman is sitting on a cot in a simple wooden room, bare except for a small table and worn bookshelves lining one wall. The witch’s house, Roman assumes. The witch himself is standing stiffly a little ways behind Remus, his face transitioning from warm concern to dark displeasure as it moves from Remus to Roman.

“You lied to me,” Roman says. “You knew he was alive all along”.

“Technically, I never spoke a falsehood,” the witch— Logan— says coolly. “I did find Remus with the injuries I described. I merely was able to heal them, if barely.”

“We had to be careful,” Remus says. “I didn’t know, if...”

If Roman felt any real remorse for what he’d done. If he would turn Remus in again, once he found him.

Roman rises from the cot, causing Logan to dart forward in alarm. But Roman just lowers himself to one knee, bowing his head and placing a hand over his heart.

“I swear to you on my life, I never meant to harm you in any way,” Roman says. “I have regretted what I've done every day, every moment, since we parted.”

“Yeah, I got that from the whole bursting-into-tears-and-telling-me-to-kill-you thing,” Remus says. “Which was dramatic even for you, by the way.”

“People will often show their true selves during states of heightened emotion,” Logan says, adjusting his glasses. “The ruse was a logical course of action to discern your intentions.”

“And also fun!” Remus says. “You should have seen your face, Ro, it was so white! I make a pretty scary ghost.”

“You were terrifying,” Roman says honestly, which makes Remus beam.

Still on one knee, Roman turns to address Logan. “And thank you, my good witch, for saving his life. I am forever in your debt.”

“I didn’t do it for you,” Logan says sharply. That and his icy glare make it quite clear that he is not as forgiving as Remus. Roman winces internally; this whole debacle is not the best first impression to make to a sibling’s lover.

And that’s what Logan is, or at least what Remus wants him to be— it’s written all over his brother’s face. Before... before, Roman would have teased Remus about it, and then Remus would probably have made some sort of lewd comment that would make Roman sputter and shove at him. They’re not quite at that point now, he thinks. Not yet.

Roman inclines his head to the witch. “You have my gratitude all the same.”

“Look at us, all making up and being friends!” Remus cheers, but Roman knows him well enough to see the lingering discomfort in the slant of his shoulders and curve of his smile. Remus isn’t as okay as he’s pretending to be.

Roman rises and clasps Remus’ hand in his own.

“Remus, I have done you a grave disservice. While I cannot take back the pain I have caused you, I can offer you back the crown. If you wish it, I will give you my blade and the clothes off my back so that you may return to the castle in my stead and reclaim your birthright under my name.”

Remus stares at him for a moment, then throws back his head and cackles. Something deep in Roman’s chest loosens at the sound; he hadn’t realized how much he missed Remus’ laugh.

“Like hell am I going back to that burning trash heap!” Remus says. “Look, getting thrown out a window sucked major ass, but finding this—” he gestures to the house around him— “is probably the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Behind Remus, Logan’s face turns bright red. Well that answers that, then.

Remus takes Roman’s other hand, meeting his eyes. “If you really want to make this up to me, go back. Become king. And change things.”

Roman bows his head once more. “I do not deserve this second chance, brother,” he whispers.

His hands tighten on Remus’s and he meets his twin’s gaze again, determined. “But I will do as you ask. I swear it, with every inch of my being: I will make things right.”

Remus shouldn’t trust Roman with something this important, not after Roman made it so clear what his word is worth. And yet, Remus nods as if satisfied and steps back.

“It is past sunrise,” Logan says. “I will not have you drawing search parties into this forest when the castle discovers you are gone.”

“I’d best be off then,” Roman says, knowing a dismissal when he hears one.

“I’ll walk you back!” Remus says.

“Absolutely not,” Logan snaps. “I will not allow you to walk that sort of distance while you are still on the mend.”

“It’s been a month!”

“And you were bedridden for weeks!”

“Logan can show me out,” Roman says firmly. “The last thing I want is you hurting yourself more over me.”

Remus’ eyes go watery. “But we just found each other again.”

Roman pulls him into another hug. “I will return, as long as you will have me.”

Remus nods into Roman’s shoulder, tightening his arms around him. They stay like that for a few moments more before they reluctantly part.

“Right, then,” Roman says. “Goodbye, for now.”

“Goodbye,” Remus says, unusually subdued.

Logan shows Roman to the door, and together they begin to walk across the clearing to the trees.

“You should know,” Logan says, “that if you break his trust again or hurt him in any way, all the guards in the castle will not be enough to stop me from killing you.”

Roman laughs heartily at that.

“I knew I liked you, Specs!” he says, slapping Logan on the back. “I’m glad Remus has someone like you looking out for him.”

Logan blinks. “Right, then. Good.”

“Wait!”

Roman looks back to see Remus standing in the house’s doorway. He looks... concerned?

“I know it’s going to take some time to be okay with what happened,” Remus says, “For both of us. But you weren’t the person who threw me off that tower. The king was. Just... remember that, okay? Remember that and come back.”

Roman nods mutedly, and the door closes.

“Right,” he says, clearing a mysterious obstruction from his throat, “let’s go then.”

With that, Roman turns and walks into the woods, headed back to the castle. Back to the duty he promised Remus he would fulfill.

And this promise, Roman intends to keep.

[hyena-frog]

Makes me so sad to think about how Cassius raised Lysander for 10 YEARS and came to love him like a brother and likely put a ton of effort into being a decent role model only for Lysander to turn around and become exactly like Octavia..... like can you imagine what must be going through Cassius’ head when he flies over Lysander at the end of DA.. :( seeing the kid he raised to adulthood become a monster.. I just... ugh. It tears me up inside

Hoo boy, I hope you’re prepared for the essay I’m about to write.

Genuinely, I think about this all the time. Cassius and Lysander have one of the most complex, tragic relationships the second trilogy has to offer. I hated Cassius so much after Golden Son but now he’s one of my favorite characters. I would really love it if he is the new POV Pierce Brown promised. In the second trilogy, Cassius has been exclusively filtered through Lysander’s POV, so I’m dying to know his own thoughts on everything that has happened. (But I would also like a Volga POV for the Obsidian story and maybe Diomedes POV for the Rim perspective. I’m torn.) I just want Cassius to have a happy ending. And I hate Lysander, but I would really like for him to see eye to eye with Cassius at least once before he is horribly, painfully, rightfully murdered.

Now, the thing is, Cassius didn’t come to love Lysander as a brother over time, he already loved him when he decided to become his guardian and mentor. It bugged me that, at the end of Morning Star, it didn’t feel like Cassius’ decision to take in Lysander was justified enough. All we really got out of him was that Lysander reminded him of Julian. Pretty flimsy. Then Iron Gold came along and blessed us with a flashback to when they first met. Little Lysander wasn’t too impressed with Cassius (he wasn’t exactly as respectable post Red Rising as he is now) but Cassius quickly went from calling Lysander an “eerie little creature” to declaring “I’ve decided to like you, little moon boy.” From that moment, Cassius truly cared for Lysander. Reading that flashback again after Dark Age makes me so emotional.

Lysander has this complex about being Julian’s replacement, that Cassius doesn’t love him so much as he loves the shadow of Julian he sees in him. And he’s justified, in a way, because Cassius does slip up and call him Julian sometimes, but it’s usually when he’s delirious from pain and not thinking clearly. Lysander completely misses the fact that Cassius does love him. I guess he doesn’t have much experience recognizing when he’s genuinely cared for, because why would he, but there is plenty of evidence of Cassius’ true feelings.

For example, Cassius sold most of his remaining family possessions to keep them afloat on the Archimedes. Now, Cassius isn’t strapped for cash by any means but the fact he cares for Lysander (and Pytha) enough to sell many of the last reminders of his dead family that he owns, is very telling. But Lysander doesn’t think about that. He acknowledges that it happened but doesn’t consider the deeper, emotional meaning behind that action.

Another example is Cassius opening up to Lysander about the last time he ever saw his father. How he disappointed Tiberius but finally regained his respect, only for the entire Bellona family to be slaughtered shortly after that reconciliation. That was a sign that he loves and trusts Lysander enough to be vulnerable with him. He never told that story to anyone else, as far as we know. He believed he was going to die in the Bleeding Place and wanted that memory of his father to live on in Lysander. The fact that Lysander is blind to how Cassius genuinely loves him, even now, is tragic.

You’re right, Cassius did try to be a good role model and pass on good morals. I think the scene in Dark Age, where Pytha confesses that Cassius forbade her from revealing to Lysander that she is actually a soldier and not a disgraced commercial pilot, as he was lead to believe, was very telling. Cassius attempted to show Lysander life outside of politics and war. He tried to show him that all Colors are equals deserving of respect. Cassius was devastated when Lysander chose to save Seraphina over the many mid- and low-color prisoners on the Vindabona. He was horrified that Lysander chose “quality” of life saved over quantity. This coming from Cassius, who compared Pinks to animals in Red Rising. Cassius has learned and changed a lot since the first book and he tried to pass those lessons onto Lysander. But it didn’t stick. Not even after 10 years of teaching.

Unfortunately, his teachings were tainted by his bad coping mechanisms for his personal demons. His alcoholism, his continued pining for Virginia, combined with his betrayal of Octavia and involvement in Aja's brutal murder, gave Lysander enough excuses to never fully embrace his lessons. While Lysander did love Cassius, there was always some flaw or another in his teacher that allowed him to comfortably distance himself from the lessons that diverged from Octavia’s teachings. To be honest, Cassius had no business taking on a ward while he was so torn up inside. Keeping Lysander isolated in a tin can in the middle of space for 10 years, instead of living among diverse people, didn’t do him any favors either. Frankly, Cassius missed a lot of red flags. A big one is the fact Lysander carved Lux ex tenebris, the Lune family motto, into the ceiling of his room on the Archimedes, where he could stare up at it every night. Yikes.

This dissonance in Lysander’s thinking is what lead to his betrayal in the Bleeding Place. Yes, Lysander loves Cassius and wanted to save his life rather than see him die at the hands of people who don’t respect him. But he also genuinely believes in the inherent hierarchy of Octavia’s teachings, that the “true order” is for Cassius to follow him. If Cassius lives, if he can convince him that his rightful place is to follow Lysander, things can finally be right in the worlds. Cassius failed to express his feelings in a way Lysander can comprehend, so he felt he was just a replacement for Julian. Lysander can dismiss Cassius’ love as love for his dead twin, and in turn, he can dismiss his claim to believe in the inherent equality of humankind as guilt and justification for killing his Sovereign. Cassius was unable to truly see how badly he failed until he was betrayed.

Since Cassius was absent for most of the plot following his “death” it’s difficult to concretely say what he’s been thinking since then. But I’ve been thinking a lot about him, so here is my conjecture. Take it with a grain of salt.

That moment you mention, when Cassius flies overhead, he deliberately retracted his helmet for a brief moment of eye contact with Lysander, so he would know exactly who rescued Darrow... Shivers. So much left unsaid. I imagine Cassius was thinking a lot of things in that moment. On the one hand, some pettiness and anger at being betrayed: “I lived bitch, I rescued Darrow, this is where my loyalties lie.” But there was also probably a mixture of shock and guilt at knowing what Lysander has done, at who he’s sided with and enabled, but also at seeing evidence of physical suffering in Lysander's burn scar and blind eye. Cassius loved Lysander, he was his guardian for 10 years, so he would hate to see him hurt. I think he would feel responsible for Lysander’s actions on some level, even if he logically understands that he’s an adult who makes his own choices.

Regardless, Cassius probably blames himself on some level. That’s what I think anyway. He tried his best to teach this kid good morals for an entire decade only for him to cling to the ideals his grandmother taught him. That has to sting. It’s probably also embarrassing, to a degree. Cassius made this grand promise to Darrow that he’d raise Lysander right, that Sevro was wrong to suggest they should have just killed him when he was little. Now Cassius’ failure to make good on that promise has been advertised to the whole Solar System through Lysander’s actions on Mercury. Surely Cassius feels responsible.

Cassius had a lot of time to think during his long return trip to the Core. About what happened with Lysander in the Rim, about his lingering feelings for Virginia, about his place in the Republic, and about what he really considers the right thing to do. Cassius can be intensely empathetic when he allows himself to be. For example, in Morning Star, he managed to really sympathize with Darrow’s life when they were drinking whiskey together. I’m willing to bet he spent that long return journey considering Lysander’s perspective with a clear head, after spending so many years lost in the haze of his own sorrows. Now that he is out of that bad mental place, he is likely able to see where he made mistakes in how he raised Lysander.

It will make for an interesting confrontation between Cassius and Darrow, who is thoroughly, understandably, done with Lysander, when the time comes to kill him. Cassius knows the danger Lysander poses and probably won’t argue against killing him this time, but I do think he would resist a little and at least try to find an alternative solution.

Lastly, I just want to say this, since it’s sort of relevant: This fandom tends to agree that Sevro should have just killed Lysander as a child, but if I’m being honest, I don’t agree. Kill Lysander now, as an adult, by all means, but as a kid he hadn’t done anything wrong yet, even if he was a little creepy. Darrow was right to give him the chance to live in peace. Too bad he ultimately didn’t take it. I especially don’t think Cassius would agree killing Lysander as a kid was the right choice, even now. He is traumatized by the sudden loss of most of his family, including little kids, so I don’t think he’d ever agree to killing a child. If he could somehow go back in time, knowing what he knows now, I think he would make the same choice to raise Lysander. In that scenario, I think he would rather try to fix the mistakes he made as a mentor, rather than punish Lysander.

Guh. Anyway. I had a lot of words in me about this subject. Hope you got something out of it! I’m consistently amazed by how Pierce Brown’s writing compels me to think deeply about these characters. Not to mention his ability to make me understand Lysander’s perspective even if I don’t like it or agree with it. Cassius’ perspective though... well, half of this post is just me guessing, so we’ll have to see how close I am to canon when book 6 comes out. Thanks for reading!

[jeonggukkiepabo]

MOONCHILD 🌙  6

SUMMARY: Soulmates are a common thing. Everyone has one. Some people think soulmates are the greatest gift fate could give, others are envious about happy couples that were lucky enough to receive a wonderful partner. One of them was Min Yoongi. Your time to meet your significant other hasn’t come yet, stumbling into the tattoo parlor with a simple idea in mind, not knowing that you will be bound to step by more often. When you leave for the first time, you’ll go home with your masterpiece of a tattoo.

When you leave for the second time, you’ll go home with not only one, but two soulmates.

The man that was supposed to be your only soulmate, the one that never wanted to tell you that he woke up with the exact same koi karp tattoo just sits and watches - until he can’t take the pain anymore.

GENRE: Soulmate!Au

PAIRINGS: Y/N x Taehyung / Y/N x Jungkook / Taehyung x Jungkook / Taehyung x Jimin / Jungkook x Jimin / Hoseok x Seokjin / Y/N x Yoongi 

WORD COUNT: 8k

WARNINGS: mentions of anxiety, fluff, kissies, deep talk with yoongi, mentions of heartbreak

Somehow, it was easier to warm up to Namjoon and Jimin than you thought in the beginning. It’s a weird feeling, growing comfortable around basically strangers, but it feels like you’ve known them since forever. Thinking about it now, you’d totally agree to what Jungkook and Taehyung said before: a bond isn’t something random and that it’s impossible to ignore it. To you, it feels just right, without any further explanations needed. You even stopped wondering why you always feel so at ease when one of your mates is around, why any fears seem meaningless when you’re with them.

Because you couldn’t be happier about the bond you shared with your four… now boyfriends. Your soulmates. The loves of your life. Of course, everything is still new for you and the group’s dynamics are still confusing to you, but as Jimin once said: you’ve got time. Things are getting easier every day and everything is falling into place slowly, allowing you to feel lighter every day. 

Soon enough, your spare days are consisting of either hanging around at the tattoo parlour or drawing in the bakery to at least spend some time with Jimin and Hoseok. You’ve grown closer to the latter, lucky to have a neutral person to talk to, someone unbiased when it comes to your lovelife.

He’s incredibly funny and you’d never complain about his teasing jokes, because you’re not the only victim; he’s unstoppable and your four boyfriends are his favorite target for his bickering. And Hoseok himself could only describe you with one word: endearing. He loves seeing you smile, loves to be the reason for your adorable reactions. The red haired man knows that he adores people way too much for his own sake, but you’re definitely one of a kind. He almost feels a soft lightning of jealousy whenever he notices how differently you brighten up once one of your soulmates comes into sight, but he’s quick to remind himself that he has an adorable soulmate on his own.

Hoseok even created a special cupcake flavor for you - a cotton candy cupcake with bubblegum frosting, pink and blue, melting on your tastebuds. 

“Hobi those are amazing!” You smile as you lick the frosting off your cupcake, sprinkles sticking to your nose as you do so. Hoseok grins, shrugging his shoulders as he places another one in front of you. “I know right? The bubblegum frosting kills it! This one is the last, though. I don’t want to feed you cupcakes all day long. They aren’t going to be special to you any longer if you keep eating several of them every day.”You pout, looking over to your boyfriend to save you. Surely someone will make Hobi cave right? No one can resist you; you always end up having what you want. 

“But I like your cupcakes, Hobi! Jimin, tell him that cupcakes are good for me. Some people might need vitamins, but I need cupcakes to live!” Jimin laughs, eyes disappearing as he holds up his hands in defence. Goodness, can you get any cuter? He can’t believe that their soulmate can be such a child sometimes. You’re worse than Jungkook and Taehyung and the three of you can become a dangerous trio.

“I can’t help it, peaches.” He walks over to you, bending down slightly to match your height. Then, he licks one fat stripe across your nose. 

“Jimin!” You screech at the disgustingly wet feeling, but your boyfriend just giggles, licking his lips slowly. 

“You had frosting on your nose, I couldn’t help it. Even though I have to say that I’m not a fan of the bubblegum.” He wiggles his eyebrows and you giggle quietly despite the sticky feeling not leaving your face.

“Yah! No sex in my bakery, Jimin go and do some dishes, mop the floor or do whatever you usually do at work!” Jin chimes in, gently slapping the back of Jimin’s head. You can’t help but laugh out loud as you notice Jimin’s dejected expression. He glares at you slightly, whilst you wiggle your eyebrow just like he did before. You get his “wait until we’re alone” message clearly and think that you might have to run away before his shift is done otherwise you might be in for a complicated time later.

“Karma, Minie. Thanks, Oppa! How are you doing, Jinnie? I haven’t seen you around in a while.” You smile sweetly, trying to distract him from your boyfriend before he gives him more work. The eldest sighs dramatically, showing you all the boxes he just carried inside the bakery. 

“I spent the weekend in my hometown to see my family, but also went to this kind of coffee expo, that’s where I got all that new stuff, coffee beans with rose aroma, different oils to infuse the coffee and pastry and even some of those little sprinkles Hoseok loves using - but those glow in the dark!”

You scrunch your nose worriedly. “Are those healthy?”

“Yah! Who cares about health if you can have cupcakes that glow in the dark? Sometimes you’re the worldwide funny girl, Y/N.” 

Jin laughs and shakes his head as he continues to carry the boxes into the storage room, mumbling how exciting those sprinkles are and that they were worth every cent. A big smile is plastered on your face and you’re sure it won’t fade anytime soon as you feel a warm sensation spreading through your entire body. This is one of your new safe places. You don’t know a lot about Seokjin and Hoseok, but they are possibly the nicest men you ever met (excluding your soulmates) and you often find yourself speaking with the two men, spending some quality time with them in the café. It feels like you’re a little family and you can’t help but giggle at the image that is now stuck in your mind; Jin being the loving grandma whilst Hoseok is the chaotic father that doesn’t even know his children’s friends' names.

“Hobi, please don’t put them on my cupcakes. I think Yoongi would love them though, they match his personality and that way you can test if they’re harmful or not.” You wink at the couple as you start collecting your belongings and shoving them into your backpack before returning your cup and plate to Jimin. 

“Thanks, Minnie. I’ll see you tonight, right?” You press a kiss onto his lips before turning around to Hoseok. 

“Hobi, help your man, you don’t have those strong arms for nothing! Thanks for the cupcake, I hope there’ll be more tomorrow!” Hobi laughs, shaking his head as he hands you a small bag of pastries for the boys in the parlour. You smile quickly before leaving. Jimin sighs behind, already missing your comforting presence.

“You have a lovely soulmate Jimin-ah.” Jimin perks up at the mention of you and he giggles quietly. Hoseok smiles at him, happy to see his friend so joyful, breathing happiness. Jimin has been glowing recently, and Hoseok knows who is responsible; and to be honest, he can’t really blame him.

“She’s the best”.

The days at the parlour are the most thrilling ones because Jungkook couldn’t stop suggesting to tattoo you, even if he’d only get to tattoo small little designs in hidden places. In the beginning, you were strictly against it, but his round doe-eyes combined with the adorable pout made it almost impossible to say no. And boy he knows it. He knows how to use his charms to make you cave in. So one day, you indeed gave in. 

“Fine,” you sighed, “but make me a small dinosaur, I want something cute on my ankle.” 

Firstly, he’s overjoyed that you said yes but then he replays the sentence in his mind and the thought is not so attractive anymore. Jungkook sighs, stomping his boot-cled foot on the floor. 

“A small dinosaur? Why not something more.. dangerous?” 

He can’t help but imagine you covered in his arts, only the prettiest pieces for you, and he can’t explain how much the thought arouses him. It has-scratch that-you have an effect on him that he can’t really comprehend. But… Come on, a small dinosaur? He expected better from you.

“I’m not dangerous, honey. I can still ask Yoongi to tattoo me one, though. If you’re not up for a challenge…” Smirking, you wait until he reacts, knowing that Jungkook would never say no to a challenge. 

But what’s making him silently snap is not really the challenge but the thought of someone else accessing your skin. No. He’s not going to allow that; it’s either him or Tae, but no one else. 

Behind you, Yoongi’s head pops out of the room he’s currently tattooing in. 

“I’d say no as well, I hate those minimalist tattoos,” he replies before closing the door again, leaving you more than confused.

Once you look back to Jungkook, he already prepared some small designs despite his complaints. There is no way he is letting someone else tattoo your perfect skin, so he prepared a little t-rex, a stegosaurus and a cute little triceratops. 

“The last one, the last one!” You clap your hands, excited for the new addition on your body. Jungkook grumbles, moving towards the desk to prepare a stencil.

“Get a girlfriend they said, it’ll be fun they said. Tae would never want a dinosaur tattoo from me.”

You frown, eyebrow raised as you look over to your boyfriend. 

“Are you saying you regret being my mate? Because last night when you had your dick between my boo-” 

“I didn’t say anything, calm down.” Jungkook rolls his eyes as he comes back to you again, pulling you into his own little tattoo corner. Sometimes you’re more dramatic than Jimin and he doesn’t know if he thinks it’s endearing or just slightly annoying. Usually, he goes for the first one.

Small tattoos were soon enough a weekly thing for you, sometimes Taehyung chimed in with an idea but it were mostly some scribbles from Jungkook’s sketchbook that caught your eye and were inked into your skin a few hours later. If the first dinosaur hadn’t really thrilled Jungkook, he began to adore these little additions to your skin somehow all fitting together. The two boys were getting protective of you and what you were getting on your skin, debating where and what to tattoo to make sure the whole would look pretty on you.

One day, Jungkook is just getting started to tattoo a little moon onto your wrist, next to the sun that he gave you last week when Yoongi comes into the parlour, cupcake and coffee in his hands. His eyes meet yours and for a second you see so many different feelings swirling in his orbs that you feel slightly uncomfortable, even with your boyfriend next to you. 

“Y/N, again? Sometimes I wish I wouldn’t have pulled you into the parlour. Don’t you have a workplace to be or another one of your several boyfriends to annoy? Jungkook, you need to charge her for all that material at some point, I’m not shitting money.”  The shop owner scoffs as he places his breakfast onto the front desk. You smile, ignoring his snarky remarks, because by now you know that all he does is bark but not bite. Yet, the gloomy feeling you have is not leaving your skin and you shiver for a second. Jungkook’s eyes snap to yours, worry written all over his features. You soothe him down as you feel his questions through the bond. Does he think he hurt you even though he still has not started the tattoo? 

“Oh, you got a cupcake from Hobi-oppa? Wait, is that the special one he makes for his friend? Poor soul, his friend didn’t pick it up again?” Jungkook giggles, having to pause the tattoo gun for a second to look at his Hyung’s reaction. He knows who the friend is and your confusion is just peak comedy. 

If only you knew what you had started.

Yoongi shoots him a warning glare before mumbling a “I’m the friend, you idiot”. It takes you a few seconds to understand what he just said and you realize why Jungkook is a giggling mess by now. 

Hoseok’s friend is Yoongi. 

Yoongi and Hoseok know each other and Yoongi picks up cupcakes on a regular basis even though he told you he wasn’t one for sweets. 

“You’re friends with Hobi? I’m sorry I didn’t know it was you otherwise I wouldn't have been that rude.” You smile sheepishly even though the blonde man seems to be ignoring you. “That’s so unexpected though, you’re grumpy and he’s a sunshine. I wouldn’t have guessed it, you must make an interesting pair. When worlds collide, huh” you chuckle as you watch Jungkook finishing the last line. “Thanks, bub!” You press a quick kiss onto his lips before he wraps your wrist, then you’re done. He knows that Yoongi is about to say more; the older is unable to finish a conversation without making sure that he has the last word, especially when it comes to Hoseok. Jungkook is not one to get involved where he shouldn’t, but sometimes he has questions that are burning his tongue even if she succeeds in keeping everything for himself. 

What you don’t hear is the painful sound coming from Yoongi as he watches you and Jungkook’s  bond playing games with him again. He’s been trying to deny that the bond hurt him when he sees you with someone else, but sometimes, it stings a little bit too much for him to ignore it. Your tattoo was still there, even after you accepted your other mates, so who was he kidding? He wasn’t even enough for you, he couldn’t replace any of those young men - not that he wanted to. You were annoying, too gigglish and beaut- always there, you were always there. Whether it’s the bakery or their parlour, your scent, your laugh and your voice are everywhere. It follows Yoongi and he hates every second of it. Sometimes he feels like Edward when he met Bella for the first time. Not that Yoongi watched Twilight. No. He has… just heard of it.

You are everywhere and he hates it. He truly wishes he had not dragged you into his shop because now you’re not leaving even though he’s doing everything to avoid you. 

But why does he even want you to be bothered? It's not like you mean anything to him, he has no reasons to expect a reaction from you right? Especially since you found other soulmates, far better than him apparently. You even spend more time with Seokjin and Hoseok than with him anyway. 

“Yeah, I’ve known him for quite some time now. Free coffee and cupcakes from time to time are a nice thing to enjoy.” 

Quite some time, sure, Yoongi thinks. What about your teenage years that you were inseparable? The crush you’ve had on him for ages? The one drunk kiss you shared the night before you turned 18? That drunk kiss could’ve activated the soulmate bond, but you chickened out and ran away like a baby, it’s your loss, bastard. Seokjin used his chance and what happened after that was obvious.

Yoongi turns his back to you to take a deep breath, his oversized shirt slowly moving down his shoulder and exposing his neck before he can do anything against it. He realizes his mistake a little bit too late even though he’s quick to turn around again, looking for any sign in each Jungkook’s and your face - obviously both of you realized something. He sees the confusion melting into a frown on your face and he cannot meet your eyes. This is happening, isn’t it?

“Why do we have the same tattoo, Yoongi?” 

The fact that he doesn’t even bother to answer is making you angry. Why the fuck does he has the same tattoo? You’re 100% sure of what you just saw, you look at this tattoo every morning before getting dressed. You know the lines by heart and it is not possible for you to mistake it by any means.

So why the fuck does he have your tattoo copied on his skin? Reasons and possibilities are flying through your racing and furious mind. You already imagine the worst. Maybe one of the boys even helped him? He cannot reach this place by himself. It means that someone else did it for him. Did one of your very own soulmates betray you like that? “I drew it myfuckingself and now you’re running around with a cheap copy of it? Who did it, Jungkook!” You’re on your feet, getting closer to the young man at a dangerously slow pace. Jungkook blinks at the sudden call of his name “Tell me. Did you or Taehyung help him?” He tilts his head obviously confused by what you are saying and it only angers you more. Is he playing dumb now? You know a tattoo when you see one and even though it’s not your job, you’re well aware that the place of the tattoo is not one someone can reach alone. Someone had to help. 

Jungkook is getting mad too as he starts pulling the puzzle together but he sighs, shaking his head. You are his priority, he has to get you to calm down first. You are a team, not against each other. “Neither Tae nor I knew about this, I’m as shocked as you are, love. We wouldn’t have done that, I promise you. A tattoo is far too personal for us to do something this low. Now though,” Jungkook glares at Yoongi, hands slowly balling into fists, obviously understanding what’s going on. Yoongi just smirks at him, happy to piss the younger off. “Don’t act up, Jungkook.”

At least Yoongi has the upper hand for now and if he can take a little advantage out of it, then he will. The angry face of Jungkook is too good to pass the opportunity. Though, Yoongi does not dare meet your eyes; he fears what he’s going to see if he does. 

“Act up? Why? What’s going on?” But both of them ignore you and this is only rilling you up. 

“You have some guts Yoongi, you still didn’t answer me!” You almost growl, looking at the white haired man whose lips are still holding that sassy smirk. He’s still not looking at you and the fact that he is ignoring you is pissing you off greatly. Who does he think he is?

“You knew about that and didn’t think it would be important to tell her?” Jungkook gets no answer so he goes on “you know what could’ve happened and yet, you didn’t tell her? She could’ve been in so much pain, you could have hurt her, don’t you fucking care at least a little? You rejected your mate without even telling her about it you fucking son of a bitch!” With one big jump, Jungkook was right in front of Yoongi, hitting him right into the stomach. 

But then, you realize it. The tattoo appeared on his skin because it became the link between you and him. Your bond reached him through the tattoo. 

Yoongi is your fucking soulmate and he obviously rejected you as he never talked to you about and seemed to be actively avoiding you. The thought alone causes you to shiver. You failed as a mate before even being given the chance to prove yourself.

You laugh darkly as your fears finally become reality. Four perfect mates who loved you and accepted you for who you were? This was only a story you find in books, not in reality.

 No, in reality you have five mates and one would rather be risking both of your lives (thus risking all of the others as well) than to try to speak to you about it. Your voice is caught in your throat when you realize that you’ve also put your four other mates in danger because of this. If you’d come to lose the bond with them, it could damage their bonds with each other and most probably could hurt them physically and mentally as well. The tears are hard to swallow, but you have to for now. You want to vomit when you remember what you’ve been told about mates rejecting their other halves. It’s unfair how your bond is manifesting only now when it never did even though it reached for Yoongi’s. Because it hurts so much you wish you had felt the pain before, just for it not to hurt as much as it does right now. 

You’re not really sure where the pain comes from but you’re lightheaded when you look at both men again. You see Yoongi on the floor and Jungkook’s rage is flagrant on his features. You never saw him that angry. You’re almost concerned for a few seconds but you laugh bitterly in your head. 

Are you that pathetic that one of your mates had to punch someone for you?

Even though Jungkook’s move is well deserved - and makes you feel somewhat better, because he seems to feel the anger you’re feeling as well - this isn’t his fight. You’re not one to enjoy fights. 

That’s not what you wanted.

Why have you been tied to all of them? It feels unfair. You’re only destroying what they have and not adding anything positive. Just looking at what is happening now, you only brought chaos.

Yoongi might not want you as a soulmate, that’s his own choice. It hurts, sure, but this has nothing to do with Taehyung or Jungkook because the tattoo happened before you were a thing. And now you’ve involved both of them, hurting both in the process and almost putting them in danger because of your bonds. You can’t let that continue, you have to find a way to stop everything.

Once you get a hold on Jungkook and are face to face with Yoongi’s cocky smirk, you can’t help the urge to just smack him across the cheek, tears spilling from your eyes before you leave into the locker room, knowing that Taehyung was just about to finish his break.

This is what Yoongi wanted, so this is what he gets. 

You have to leave, you have to find another place to be because you can’t breathe correctly. You feel Jungkook reaching through the bond but you’re trying your everything to refuse him access. How do you cut a bond without hurting someone? Is that even possible? 

You laugh over your thoughts as you notice that  you are trying to reach for comfort. What are you doing? Are you trying to leave or are you trying to seek for one of your soulmates? What are you trying to do? Feel validated by one of the four men you adore? What if it only made them realize what you are? You’re just a nuisance after all. You keep on ruining what they all have. Do you really deserve to be selfish once again and seek for one of them to comfort you? 

At least you know better than running to Jimin right now, because he would’ve told Namjoon, Namjoon would’ve called Taehyung and Taehyung would… You don’t even know what Taehyung would do, you don't even know what you are doing, you just don’t want to hurt or worry any of them, yet your mind is turning cloudy as you open the door and fall directly into Taehyung’s arms, bond reaching for his instantly. 

You feel pathetic. Running into your soulmates arms as soon as something is going wrong. You’re just going to worry Taehyung, which is going to worry Jimin, who is going to worry Namjoon and- And you can’t think anymore. 

Your mind is racing but you can’t focus anymore. The only good thing about finding Taehyung is that it’s better if he hears about what happened from you, rather than to understand everything by someone else. Besides, it feels a little bit soothing to have him close to you. You feel like you belong somewhere despite… Despite what Yoongi decided for you and for your bond. 

“Angel, what’s wrong? I can feel a lot through the bond, but it’s… Quite negative, what is happening?” Taehyung whispers as he strokes your hair carefully, embracing you in a warm hug that soothes your hazy mind a bit, but everything still feels suffocating. You just hope that your feelings aren’t fully communicated through the bond because you’re probably setting everyone in panic if so. You can’t contain your words but your labored breathing makes it difficult to actually explain what is happening right now to your confused soulmate.

 “Yoongi… he has my koi carp tattoo… He didn’t even tell me, god, Tae. Why me? He hates me, he so obviously h-hates me and now he’s mated to me as well? H-He doesn’t even want me and bad things happen to people that don’t accept the bond and it means that you g-guys are in d-danger because of m-me. God I r-ruin everything, I’m a-awful…” 

“Wha- shh, angel, slow down. You’re okay, you’re safe with me, alright? Don’t say those things about yourself, you're perfect sweetheart. You’re not ruining anything” Taehyung has to breathe a few times not to curse loudly and yell some pieces of his mind to his Hyung.

He respects Yoongi a lot, he has always been his mentor. But there are things that he does not tolerate and making his soulmate cry and panic that much is one of them. 

God, he has felt the urgency in his bond; you were trying to desperately find an issue. Had he not had his hands full of ink when the bond started to weigh his whole soul down, he would have flown to the lobby. He feels regretful for not throwing everything away in order to come to you. 

You and Jungkook are both way more precious to him than some disposable things. He knew something was wrong and he had tried to brush it off, thinking that you both were together and thus, nothing could happen to you. He should have followed his bond at the exact moment he felt something. 

Fucking shit, Yoongi is your soulmate? And he said nothing? What if something had happened to you because of his rejection of the bond? 

Taehyung is gritting his teeth; he has to calm down otherwise he’ll never soothe you down either. Yoongi is an asshole. Okay, he didn’t think that he would ever do something that low but he has to focus on you and soothing the ache in the bond. 

He tries to mentally erase the moment you started saying you were an awful soulmate because it is not helping him. He just wants to leave the room and find Yoongi. 

But Taehyung is an adult, he knows that acting rash won’t help.

He’ll get angry at Yoongi later.

“Jungkook is probably talking to him right now, even though I’m… Definitely not the biggest fan of his actions, Yoongi... I don’t really know if he does, but I think that Yoongi might deserve it right now. However, that’s Yoongi’s problem right now. You don’t have to endure it, nor to wait for him. It’s not because he is your soulmate that you have to think of him first, alright? Do you want me to take you home? Away from Yoongi? I don’t have any more clients, I should be doing some sketches but I can do those at yours if you want to. Think of yourself first for once, will you? If you feel like you have things to tell him, then we can stay, but I don’t want you to feel any kind of pressure for an idiot that didn’t even think of you in his decisions.” 

Tae kisses your forehead, but you shake your head no. 

“I have to talk to him about it. I want to know why he hates me so fucking much. Also, I want to return the right of having a soulmate, some people are overwhelmed with just one, now I have 4 and a half!” Taehyung smiles, proud of you. “That’s my baby.” His thumb runs on your cheeks, erasing the tears that escaped. 

“Whatever Yoongi chooses is not your responsibility, alright? It doesn’t change that we have a bond, the five of us and you are with us whatever happens, okay? You are an amazing soulmate, Angel. Don’t doubt it. The one who fucked up is Yoongi. Not you. Yeah?” 

You nod quietly against his palm and he kisses the crown of your head. You don’t feel quite ready to speak with Yoongi but you guess that you deserve to know the truth and the full story. He does owe you that, at least. 

It does surprise you that Jungkook and Yoongi weren’t fighting anymore once you came back into the lobby. Instead, they are seated on the couch and talking quietly, even though it’s more like a whisper-yelling from Jungkook’s side. You don’t really know how to feel, you’re confused and hurt obviously, but you’re going to have to be the bigger person and actually wait for him to explain if he wants to. Taehyung is reaching to you through the bond and you feel slightly more confident. You’ve been overwhelmed with so many feelings that you had begun to think about things that were so far from being the truth. Your mind just kept on escalating until you’d felt like nothing. You’ll have to thank Taehyung for grounding you. 

“Yoongi..?” You shyly ask as you make your way towards them - somehow afraid of the platinum blonde man. Biting your lip, you try to calm your anxiety down for at least the talk, but how could you without knowing how this day would end? 

You could either end up being heartbroken or happier than ever with a new mate, and with the way he always treated you, you don’t really feel like you have another happy ending incoming. It feels more like the start of the end. 

And besides, you thought about him only but Taehyung told you to think of yourself first: would you even accept him if he actually comes to tell you that he wants to pursue something with you? 

Would you let in someone who is not afraid to put everyone’s safety in danger just for selfish reasons? You’re trying to push the thoughts far from you for now. 

Live the moment and see what can happen: whatever happens, you’ll be able to say that you tried your best until the end. 

“Y/N,” Yoongi sighs and looks over to Taehyung, worry written over both their faces. You were just about to speak when Jungkook chimes in. 

“C’mon Tae, let them talk. I’ll explain everything to you.” 

The youngest stands up and presses a soft kiss onto your cheek before taking his boyfriends hand and walks back into the locker room. He sends you one last wink, silently cheering for you and you smile quietly. What do you have to fear when whatever happens, you’ll always have your soulmates cheering for you?

Yoongi swipes his hair out of his face, exposing his stern eyebrows before looking at you. God, he feels like an asshole. He knows that, technically, he has been one, but he never thought it would come to the point that he would knowingly hurt his soulmate. He always hides behind the fact that he’s in love with Hoseok, but that didn’t give him the right to hurt you. He should have at least told you…

“Sit down, please.” His voice is rough, almost exhausted but also sounds… painful? Distressed?

Slowly, you take place next to him, trying not to touch his leg, trying not to touch him at all. You’re still confused if you want to have anything to do with him to be honest with yourself. 

“I’m sorry.” You choke out, barely whispering as you lower your gaze, avoiding his cat-like eyes that are probably full on judging you right now. 

Yoongi tilts his head to the side, watching you confused. 

“Why? You couldn’t have known that this would happen, I couldn’t know - otherwise I wouldn’t be doing that job. I mean, I’m the one that should be apologizing in the first place. I should have handled everything differently, and the only thing that I can do now is to explain, but… Yeah, the thing is, I don’t believe in soulmates.” He quiets down for a short amount of time, creating a break between his words to gauge your reaction, but you don’t seem to be that surprised.

For some reason, it doesn’t sit well with him. He knows he has done enough damages but he wishes for a reaction rather than your expressionless face. “I don’t think that fate should be the one to select your forever and always, do you get what I mean? Of course, I’m pissed about the fact that I got mated to you, but it’s not you that makes me hate being mated. You have done nothing wrong and I’ve been taking my frustrations out on you, and I know it’s wrong but... It’s just… I’m in love with some fucking stupid red haired baker that loves to add too many star-sprinkles on top of cupcakes and…” It clicks too easily in your mind as those words leave his mouth. It doesn’t excuse him, but you finally understand why everything has been this way.

“You’re… You’re in love with Hobi...” You didn’t expect it yourself, but a big grin takes place on your face as you clap your hands excitedly. Just the fact that you finally understand what is going on is making you- not really happy but - something along the lines. Once more, Yoongi is confused, it’s not the reaction he thought he would get. Not at all.

“Yes, but…  Shouldn’t you be mad or jealous or something? I mean, not that I expect you to be, I’ve been nothing but an ass to you, but, that’s how I felt once you got mated to Taehyung and Jungkook, even though it’s my own fault… If I hadn’t changed your appointment…” 

He catches how your glance suddenly changes at this information. You don’t seem to be mad, nor surprised, but you’re acknowledging what he says, as if you had already considered this idea. “Anyways, I mean…  Aren’t you mad that I don’t want to be your mate?” 

You shrug your shoulders, not sure what to answer. It’s quite a dumb question. Of course you are. Of course you are hurt. It feels like you’re not good enough for him. But… You try to understand his side, and you're not sure how you would feel if you had been in love with someone for like, forever, and you suddenly have to accept and love someone else. It seems like something that you would have had a hard time carrying yourself, so who are you to judge him, or to be mad at him? 

“It’s rude, I guess. It doesn’t make me feel like I’m the most wanted human on earth for sure. It kind of feels like I suck so much that my own soulmate doesn’t feel like they can care or love me. So, the question is kind of easy to answer, I’d rather say that it stings, but who am I to be mad at you? I see your point of view and I’ve already got four mates that are caring and loving - three more mates than I thought I’d have. I never thought that I would have more than one soulmate. I’m always surrounded with love when I’m with them, so I'd say that knowing that there’s another man running around with my tattoo - a tattoo that means so much to me - is just overwhelming, knowing that you don’t want me as a soulmate hurts, but I’ll get over it if that’s what you choose, we’ll just have to be careful with our health because I’m not putting my mates’ safety in danger for you own comfort. Maybe we are soulmates to understand things and not to live them together. It does happen sometimes. I do agree with you, fate shouldn’t be the one to decide - but in our case, fate is just suggesting who to choose, don’t you think so? You decided against choosing me and we are still alive. Besides, I don’t…,” You seem to hesitate for a second, “I don’t feel a bond between us and you probably don’t feel that either.” 

You feel a bit bitter to lie like that. You didn’t feel it until today. Until you realized who he was to you. But you guess that you shouldn't try to make him change his decision. 

“But I do.” Yoongi whispers, finally looking up from the hole in his jeans. 

He tries to read you, but you’re not easily opening up anymore. He feels like it’s his fault, but he still sees that glimmer of hope inside of your eyes, and trustfully, it kills him, because he just wants to give in right now. Yoongi wants to be held, to be loved, anything. 

He just wants to feel. If he doesn’t accept you, would he ever get another chance again? Would there be another human soul accepting his own broken one?

“I fucking do feel bonded to you, Y/N. That’s the problem. I don’t want to smile whenever I feel you around. I don’t want to feel happy when I see your smile. And I don’t want to suffer just because I see you kissing Taehyung or Jungkook - even if you smile at them instead of me, it hurts. I want to be loved, I want to love. But the only person that exists for me is Hoseok. I’ve loved him since I was 16, but fucking fate destroyed  - I mean, not destroyed, wrong choice of words but - my chance of being mated to him disappeared for me that day. The man I’m in love with is mated to someone else, and now even I’m mated to someone else. How do you think it feels like to be rejected by the only person you’ve been interested in? And then there’s your soulmate, you’re supposed to love her, to be everything she’s waiting for, to care and be there for her and a month later she’s suddenly mated to four other men. What does the fabulous fate want me to do? Get into a polyamorous relationship with four men and one woman? Being not the third but the sixth wheel? I don’t think so.” 

You nod, slowly understanding his issues because that’s how you felt just a few weeks ago. From your dreams of a soulmate that would be your one and unique love, to your new reality composed of four men, who are absolutely amazing, do not kid yourself but, it’s so different from anything you thought would happen. It took you some time to accept what was happening, to accept four men who you’re supposed to be a lost part of their soul. 

You don’t really like the idea of being broken without your soulmates, but it feels just right when you’re with them. In a way, you understand why people came to say that. Because it’s so powerful that it’s hard to define it differently. 

Just like how Yoongi said that fate destroyed his chances with Hobi. 

You understand. Because it’s overwhelming, it’s new. It feels like no one can help you out. However, you have your soulmates. It’s been the five of you to get through it and to start your relationship. Yoongi on his side, he has no one to talk to. 

So, honestly? You understand him, as weird as it sounds. Even you, at some point, think that it isn’t right, that you shouldn’t be so understanding: you should be mad. You even thought about rejecting him if he wanted to pursue anything with you after all of that but now all your anger seems to have faded away. 

Yoongi was expecting it from you too. But no. You aren’t. You’re just glad that he finally decided to talk and to stop running away from you. You don’t want to prevent him from doing anything, you just want to be here for him, at least. He is not alone, and he will always be able to count on you. Maybe you’re meant to be soulmates in a… friendzone kind of way.

“I know, Yoongi. I get it, don’t worry. I mean, I probably should be mad, but I understand. I don’t want to force you into anything, you are your own person with your own belief and choices. I’m not your soulmate to berate you, or to be annoying or whatever. You’re just, not alone in this, you know? I don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything with me or to get involved with me- but don’t you think you deserve love? Because... I think you do. Maybe love is what you need to get rid over the thought of Hobi being out of your reach? You need love to start a life where you only care about what the future holds, someone that helps to pull you out of that dark place. Crying and being upset over his bond with Jin won’t make your life easier. It would actually be the other way around. Maybe you need to let go, Yoongi. And once again, I’m not asking you to accept us. I mean, we don’t even know if you’re meant to be with the four other men in my life, and I know that Jungkook and Taehyung might not be your types, I thought so too when I realized that Jimin and Namjoon were a part of this too, but I gave them a chance, and I think that one chance might change everything. You already know all of them and I think that it is safe to believe that your two coworkers are your closest friends by now. You trust them, you take care of them even though you might not want to accept that. The bond doesn’t feel like we are forced to love each other, okay? It just happened and I don’t regret it. But it’s your decision, Yoongi. And I won’t take it away from you, just know that if you ever decide to accept me, accept us, then-” 

And then, he kisses you.

Yoongi kisses differently from what you would have expected. He wasn’t soft, shy or holding back anything. His kisses are hungry, frustrated and maybe a little bit aggressive.

This time, the bond didn’t feel like fireworks or butterflies in your stomach, it was more like an explosion full of bad energy that rushed over into your body. 

Yoongi grabs your face, pulling you even closer and as you put your hands on his cheeks, you feel them. Tears are spilling out of his eyes, the feeling of being complete finally settling into your bodies. It is amazing how a simple action holds so many consequences and feelings. It feels like you did something amazing, while you just kissed.

Once Yoongi breaks the kiss, he pulls you onto his lap, hugging you tightly whilst his body still slightly shakes from being overwhelmed. 

“It’s alright, Yoongi. We’re here, we’re together. You have all of us on your side,” you coo, trying to calm him down as you run your finger through his messy hair. 

He’s not alone, he has never been but if he never realized it and you’re going to change that. He’s going to be loved and cherished as much as he lets you. 

You’ll give him anything, you know it sounds desperate, but you feel so much for him. Goodness, he changed everything upside down in one kiss and one talk. 

You kind of hate it, but at the same time, it feels right. Maybe Yoongi is in it to prove to you that fate doesn’t do it all. You have to fight for your mates too. You can’t be given everything, love and trust is something that you gain. 

You’re starting to feel exhausted because of the ride you just did. You went from anger to pain, to despair, to anger again, to shyness, to compassion and finally you’re here, hugging your missing soulmate. 

“I’m so fucking sorry,” Yoongi whispers, eyes still spilling tears onto your shirt. “I treated you like shit, yet here you are, ready to soothe my pain.”

“Don’t, Yoongi. That was the past. Now we’re here. The healing begins.” You smile soothingly as his arms wrap tightly around you. He keeps on letting apologies fall from his lips and you don’t think that he listens to you when you tell him to stop. He doesn’t need to apologize, you understand him. However, if he feels like he has to, you’ll let him. You’ll give him all the reassurances he needs to walk further with you. 

Seconds later, Jungkook and Taehyung run back into the lobby, eyes wide and lips parted in shock. “What happened, Y/N? I just got a love boner and that wasn’t because Tae and I were basically-” 

“Oh, fuck it, Jungkook,” Tae groans. Then, his eyes fall on you and Yoongi, still embraced in a tight hug.

“Fuck, you did it, love.” His smile was generous, heartwarming and you just know he isn’t mad about the fact that you decided to love one more person. 

Quite the contrary, Taehyung is a perceptive man. He doesn’t really want to tell anyone, but he had known it. He knew it would end up like that, and he can’t wait for the time when you and all your soulmates will be able to be together and walk toward a better future. On the other side, Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows, disbelief visible in his eyes. 

“Yoongi, the fuck? You just said that you would never want her, minutes later you’re having her on your lap? Wow.” You feel the jealousy that washes over Jungkook, the boy doesn’t like sharing you, you are his baby, his best friend and his mate. He was fine that you were being mated to his soulmates, but Yoongi doesn’t belong to him. 

He doesn’t know if he would want him to be his as well, or if he’s just jealous that you give love to someone else, especially someone that just made you cry. Taehyung told him how he found you and Jungkook was not happy. Either way, he doesn’t like it too much.

“Jungkook,” you sigh as you press a chaste kiss on top of Yoongi’s hair before sitting down next to him, patting the free spot. “Can you guys sit down? We should probably talk.”

After all of you talked and came down from the emotional roller coaster, the atmosphere was much calmer. 

“I’m not kissing any of you, just to make that clear.” Yoongi looks at the two men, scrunching his nose in disgust. 

“I wouldn’t want to kiss you anyway.” Jungkook mumbles, earning a kick against his shin from you. “Stop it, Jungkook. You’re gay as fuck and Yoongi is good looking, of course you want to kiss him. I would,” Taehyung shrugs as he grins at the eldest. 

“I’m not gay, I’m bi. There’s a difference, because I like boobies too.” Jungkook pouts, looking at you to help him, but you just laugh, shaking your head. 

“You don’t have to kiss everyone, Jungkook, nor do you have to, Yoongi. It’s fine. Even though I’ve got to tell you that Taehyung is an amazing kisser. But maybe, one day it’ll happen. I didn’t kiss Jimin and Namjoon on the same day I kissed Taehyung and Jungkook either. But we have each other, and that’s what prevails.” 

Yoongi hasn’t felt that complete in a long time, yet here he is: happy. And strangely enough, he can’t wait to see what the future will bring. 

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[thisisawonderfulusername]

let's save the world

season one, episode seven

five hargreeves x reader

summary: you, five, allison, and diego go to find out who harold jenkins is and to try and stop him, but that mission is cut short when you see that five is hurt

trigger warnings: cursing, some angst(?)

word count: 3k

a/n: this one’s a bit shorter, so i apologize for that, but there wasn’t as much action in this episode so i worked with what i had. i guess since it came out way quicker, that kind of makes up for it lol. anywho, enjoy!

“who the hell is harold jenkins?”

you watch as he throws the coffee cup behind him, dropping the briefcase to your side. “we don’t know.” five tells them, letting out a heavy breath.

“yet.” you quickly add on, running your fingers through your hair with a heavy sigh. “we don’t know who he is, yet.” you hoped three days would be enough to find out. “we do know that he’s responsible for the apocalypse. so we have to find him. and we have to do it now.”

“how is he connected to what’s going to happen?” luther asks, looking between the two of you. all of them were confused, and understandably so. after disappearing yesterday, you suddenly come back and know what to do to stop the end of the world. you would be confused too.

“we don’t know.” five says simply with a shrug of his shoulders. it was frustrating, not knowing anything but the name of who you needed to stop. there could be many harold jenkinses, all in their own little areas of the city. you only had three days to find out which one you needed to stop, though, and you couldn’t waste any of that time.

diego steps past his siblings, and you notice the sling holding his arm. that was new. “wait, so you only know this guy’s name?” he questions, “that’s it?”

“it’s all we need.” five responds, to which you nod in agreement.

diego isn’t so ready to believe you and just go with it. “there are probably dozens of harold jenkinses in this city.” pursing your lips at the obvious statement, you stay quiet for a moment.

“well, i guess we better start looking.” you breathe out, not wanting to deal with this any longer. it’s not like you have unlimited time to figure this out. you only had around seventy-two hours, and you weren’t even sure if that was enough.

allison crosses her arms over her chest, “i’m sorry, am i the only one that’s skeptical here?” she asks, everyone turning to look at her. “i mean, how exactly do you know all of this about what’s his name?”

“harold jenkins.” five reminds her, clearly just as annoyed as you. “you know those lunatics in masks who attacked the house?”

klaus scratches the back of his head, his nose scrunched up slightly. “oh, yeah, i think i remember those guys.”

“yeah, the ones that attacked us because they were looking for you guys.” diego says accusingly, nodding his head slightly. “and you know what? i have more questions about that night. specifically for you.” he points at you and you roll your eyes.

sighing heavily, you decide it would be best to just tell them everything to get it out of the way and stop wasting time. “fine,” you begin, stepping forward slightly, “i’m one of you guys. i’m pyrokinetic. which means i can control fire.” you look between them, lips pressed together into a thin line. “any questions?” diego is about to speak again but you cut him off, “no? okay, good. let’s get back to what’s actually important, yeah?”

“yes, that would be nice.” five agrees, leaning against the back of the couch. “those guys were sent by the temps commission to stop us from coming back and preventing the apocalypse.”

“the temps what?” allison asks, voicing the confusion that all of them had etched on their faces.

shaking your head, you begin to pace. “our former employer. they monitor all of time and space to make sure that whatever is meant to happen,” you pause for a moment, freezing your movement as you look to them, “happens.”

five nods, “they believe the apocalypse is coming in three days. so,” you begin your pacing once again, walking slowly around the couch, “we went to the commission headquarters and intercepted a message that was meant for the lunatics you met.”

“that message,” you tell them, sitting on the couch and facing them, “was what we gave you. ‘protect harold jenkins.’ if the commission wants him protected, he must be what causes the end of the world.”

it’s silent as the siblings look to the two of you, processing everything they had been told. then, all of a sudden, they all speak at once, asking too many questions to comprehend. the only thing that you really heard was allison’s remark about how insane all of this is.

“you know what else is insane?” five finally reached his breaking point, and you sigh softly as you hold your head in your hands. “we look thirteen again.” he simply says, “klaus talks to the dead, and luther thinks he’s fooling everybody with that overcoat.” he points at the two of them, before looking at all of them with narrowed eyes. “everything about us is insane. always has been.”

klaus lifts his head from the arm of the chair he’s sitting in, “he’s got a point there.”

ignoring the remark, five continues. “we didn’t choose this life.” he shrugs, “we’re just living it. for the next three days, at least.”

“the last time we tried to stop it, we all died.” allison argues, gesturing to the other siblings. “why is this time any different? why shouldn’t i go home to my daughter?”

groaning silently to yourself, you stand back up, “what’s different this time,” you speak through gritted teeth, “is that you have us.” you gesture between yourself and five, “we know what we’re doing, and we have the name of the guy we have to stop.”

“we have the chance to save the lives of billions of people.” five tells them, looking to allison. “including claire.”

there’s a moment of silence once again, and allison furrows her eyebrows. “you know her name?”

“i do.” he responds, nodding slightly. “i’d like to live long enough to meet her.”

looking between luther and diego, allison slowly nods as well. “alright. let’s get this bastard.”

diego also seems to be convinced. “you had me at gerald jenkins.” you roll your eyes at his mistake.

“harold. harold jenkins.” you correct, raising an eyebrow at him.

he shakes his head, “whatever. i’ve already lost two people this week. i’m not losing anyone else.”

“yes!” you cheer, raising a fist in the air. “yes! finally, you’re understanding.” you grin, clasping your hands together. “what about you, big guy?” you look to luther expectantly.

“you guys go.” he tells you as diego comes to stand by your side. “i’m going to go through dad’s files. i still think this has something to do with why he sent me to the moon.” one step forward, two back, apparently. you weren’t expecting luther to get it, but it was still quite annoying.

diego raises an eyebrow at him, “really? you’re making the end of the world about you and dad now?” he questions, clearly annoyed.

“no- he told me to watch for threats.” luther defends himself, “that’s not a coincidence. it all has to be connected somehow.”

allison steps to his side, trying to convince him that they need to stick together. you clap your hands together, “we don’t have the time for this. let him stay.”

“let’s roll.” diego instructs, “i know where we can find this asshole. klaus, you’re with me.”

everyone looks over to klaus as he sits up, “yeah, i’m good.” he renounces, pushing himself up from the chair. “i think i’ll pass. feeling a little... under the weather.” he leaves the room, abandoning the little mission you had created.

sighing softly, you follow as diego and five walk out of the room, ready to get this all done with and be finished with the task of stopping the end of the world.

-

finding harold jenkins was a lot easier than you thought it would be. turns out, diego being a vigilante actually helped out, since he was able to get the file of the man. apparently, allison recognized him, and he had been flirting around with vanya, and she didn’t even know his real name.

getting out of the car, you sigh softly. his house was just a normal house, in the middle of a small, normal neighborhood. nothing you would expect for someone who was going to end the world.

“be careful. we don’t know what peabody’s capable of.” allison warns as you all walk up the path to the house, which seemed to be empty at the moment. lucky timing, apparently.

diego brushed off her warning, “he didn’t seem dangerous when i saw him.” he dismisses, “looked kind of scrawny.”

“so are most mass murderers and serial killers.” she shoots back, gesturing to five, “look at him.”

“thanks.” he mutters.

“good point.” diego concurs, leading up the steps to the porch. “what’s this guy want with vanya?” he questions.

“no clue. why don’t we ask him once he’s dead?” you respond, giving a sarcastic grin.

diego holds out a hand to stop the both of you, and you sigh softly. “alright, i’m gonna-” he cuts himself off when he sees that allison wasn’t there anymore, sighing and rolling his eyes in exasperation. “it would be nice for people to just stick to the-”

he once again stops talking when five grabs your hand and you both disappear with a flash. now inside the house, you glance around, jumping slightly when you hear glass shattering, followed by diego groaning in pain.

walking past him to the door, you turn the handle, grinning slightly when it easily opened. “it was unlocked.” you inform him, allison chuckling beside you.

“my way works just fine.” he mutters in response, getting up from the glass covered floor. picking some of the shards off of his clothes, “spread out. yell if you, uh... you know, you’re in trouble.”

after watching him walk off, you shake your head and split up from the other two with a small wave as you go down the hallway next to the stairs. surprisingly, it was normal. nothing that an ordinary person wouldn’t have in their home- some pictures hanging on the walls, a small bathroom.

while you were rooting around, allison called for you guys from where she was upstairs, apparently finding something of importance. all of you quickly make your way up, seeing the hatch to the attic open.

taking a deep breath, you watch as the boys go up the ladder before following them up, seeing that the attic was decorated in an interesting fashion. umbrella academy decorations- figurines of them when they were kids, heads burned off, posters with their faces scratched out. this was definitely not normal.

“this guy’s got some serious issues.” diego mumbles, examining everything.

biting your lip, you look around a bit. “i don’t think he was ever interested in vanya.” you voice your thoughts slowly, “he was trying to get to you guys. call it a hunch.”

suddenly, there’s a thump, and when you look to your side, five had fallen to the ground. your eyes widen as you quickly crouch beside him. “what’s wrong? what happened?” he’s breathing heavily, and his lack of a response worries you to no end.

allison pulls his shirt up slightly when she sees the blood staining it, and she sees the shrapnel in his abdomen. “why didn’t you say anything?” diego questions him, raising an eyebrow.

“you need to keep going.” five breathes out, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back against the floor. “we’re so close.”

you’re shocked you don’t stop breathing when he loses consciousness. “shit.” you barely hear the crack in your voice, because all you hear is a ringing in your ears. “get him- get him in the car! we need to get him back to the academy-” you jump to your feet, and your legs feel like jelly, but you can’t stop for anything.

it felt like a blur, helping allison and diego get five down the stairs and into the car, where he laid across the seat with his head resting in your lap. the whole time, your heart was pumping so hard and it felt like you weren’t breathing for a good while. five was falling in and out of consciousness, and you kept your fingers on his wrist to reassure yourself that his heart was still beating.

-

when you finally got back into the academy, you all carried him in as quick as possible, and you felt as if you had calmed down, even just a little bit. sure, your heart still pounded in your chest and you had to work to control your breathing, but at least you could think rationally.

“we should’ve taken him to the hospital.” allison breathes out as you all shuffle across the floor, trying not to drop five onto the hard wood floors.

“a kid with a shrapnel wound might raise some questions.” five mumbles, and you sigh softly, relieved to know that he wasn’t dead just yet.

you all manage to get over to the couch and lay him down very carefully, “yeah, well, so does the murder shrine in harold jenkins’ attic.” allison shoots back, beginning to pull off her jacket, “he’s still losing blood. what do we do?”

“we gotta get the shrapnel out.” diego commands, looking up from the boy for a moment, before he seems to get distracted by something, walking off into the hall and not responding when allison calls out to him.

letting out a short breath, you hesitantly move away from five’s side, following where diego went to see what had him so distracted from something so important. you see grace, and diego looks confused, but you feel as if your heart just went soaring. she’ll be able to help five.

-

you sat in the silent room, picking at your nails as you stare at the equations all over the walls, things you could never understand no matter how hard you tried.

after getting grace’s help to remove the shrapnel and take care of the wound, you had calmed down significantly. your heart was no longer beating so fast that you could hear it, and you had controlled your breathing.

now, you sat, just waiting. allison and diego left to chase after another lead for where harold could be, and grace had left the room once five’s wound was clean. it was only you and him. and delores.

looking at the mannequin, you scrunch your nose up, tapping your fingers against your forearm. her lifeless eyes stared into your own, and you couldn’t stand it.

“what the hell are you looking at?” you hiss, glaring at the fake woman. it felt like she was mocking you, even if she wasn’t even alive. “you shouldn’t even be here. it’s not like you’re helping at all.”

you cross one leg over the other, leaning back in the chair you had claimed as you stared at her with narrowed eyes. “you’re just sitting there. you didn’t give him your blood, and you haven’t been the one helping him figure out how to stop the apocalypse. that’s all been me, not you.”

the silence is nearly deafening as you continue to stare into her eyes.

but you were a part of what got him here. you were a part of the reason he had shrapnel in his abdomen, causing this injury.

you sneer, lacing your fingers together and resting your hands on your knee. “i only set off a grenade. i didn’t put the shrapnel in him myself.”

silence, again. you realize then that you had been talking to the lifeless woman, and you groan loudly. all those years of solitude, you had been able to keep your sanity. now, it just may be slipping away.

“you’re only a mannequin.” you mutter, biting at your nail as you start to tap your foot. “soon enough, he’ll see that. he’ll realize that there are actual people around him, and it’ll be bye-bye delores!” you throw your hands up in the air, before you freeze in place.

quickly putting your arms down, you groan once again. “i am not going to do this.” you stand from the chair, moving around the bed and grabbing the plastic form, before throwing her into the wardrobe and shutting the doors on her. you sigh softly, “much better.”

-

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