#he'll remember her as she was - free and with her fate in her own hands at last

[hydrachea]

Yknow I was also thinking... if Neuvi were to ask Furina to become immortal again for his sake, she might actually say yes. Which is exactly WHY he'd never ask her to do so, because as much as he dreads her inevitable absence, he won't condemn her to that fate again

You got it. Because when she took on that curse half a millennium ago, it was also a request she agreed to. For the sake of all of Fontaine and not just the sake of Focalors, but it's still all too similar. Even if she said yes to him because she actually wants it then, who's to say she'll always want it? Who's to say the decades, the centuries won't weigh heavier and heavier as they pass, just like before? Who's to say she won't have to ask him to make her mortal again? And that would be even more painful than simply letting her go when she's meant to. So instead he'll treasure the time she has, that she's more than earned, and he'll do everything he can for her to treasure it too.

[bruciemilf]

The gladiator post just made me think like… Bruce goes out there every day to fight again and watches the crowd decide his fate. At the end of every battle, it’s a nod from his handlers or the hands of the crowd that decide. It’s never him. He has never had a choice. Never has he been gifted free will, he is simply a limb for what others want.

So what happens when he asks such a soft favor of Clark and he actually does it? What does he do when he wants but there is nobody to tell him which path to take? He has never had his own choice before. He was born to bloody dirt and a sea of hands and the knowledge that protest is death. And death will not save him. What does he do with his own choice?

WAHHH, born in a sea of hands! Bestie. That's amazing. However, I'd argue to say, Bruce does make his own choices, however small.

When the king's thumb goes down, and the gladiator below him watches him with deep piercing eyes, and he refuses, he makes a choice.

When she criticizes him for it, hands tied with barbed chains to the arena post, lips dry and burning under Metropolis' glaring sun. Bruce had stole her warrior death, she says.

" and now you're stealing my dignity, " when Bruce gives her his water and food ratios, under the others' scrutiny. A scrutiny not even their own. " you truly vex me, Brutus. "

Bruce says nothing. Hal Jordan makes a noise of both fear and disgust as he leaves,

" These things creep me out. Does it even need food?"

"Quit it, " Oliver snaps, arms crossed, " He'd put you down with both arms tied. He's done it before, remember? There'll come the day he'll have to put someone down, and I speculate its you."

" Brutus doesn't kill," Diana savors the water still clinging to her lips, casting the battlespawns, better than them, lower than them, a curious stare. " He doesn't lose, either."

When Bruce refuses to strongarm people for the king's sake, he makes a choice. And he's punished for all of them, yet he can't stop. He can't.

Clark respecting his daring, arrogant plea would confuse him. If there's one truth, one truth they carry close to them, is that riches listen when riches talk.

Clark, the educated, respectable, dignified consort of Alexander, listening to him. It's a pretty dream, but pretty things die fast in here.

And he knows very well, Luthor will sooner strike him down than let him walk free.

He stopped asking about payments when he was 10. It was futile. He at least hoped his dear, dearest Alfie, the last of the House Wayne, remained taken care of.

Yet. Clark? He comes back. A handwritted letter, with the Al Ghul sigil carefully wrapped around jasmine scented paper, lay softly in his hand.

"Can you read?"

Bruce nods.

If he's surprised, Clark spares his feelings by not showing it. He goes to leave. Bruce asks him to stay, to remain. "I know what it will say. It is happy news." It's a blessing custom; Happy announcements extend to friends who hear them.

Misty eyed, blue and glossy, Clark nods. Waiting patiently for Bruce to finish.

Bruce, for the first time since they've locked eyes, caged animal to caged animal, smiles. A close lipped thing. Lovely and soft and so fitting for him.

" She lost the child."

[ledhardhonluelenath]

TMA/Sandman

Some thoughts on the Endless, the Fears, and how certain not-quite-mortals might fair in the Eyepocolypse.  

When compared to the Endless, the Fears had not been around very long.  Oh, they thought themselves ancient (as much as any of them were capable of thinking), and to mortal minds they were.  They had been around since before the dawn of humanity, after all.  Around long enough for their age to make them arrogant, make them think themselves equals to the Endless, or perhaps greater than them. 

The Endless, however, were far older than that.  The children of Time and Night found these entities to be nuisances at best.  At worst, they were upstarts encroaching on their territory.  The age and power of the Endless meant the fact they had yet to get rid of the Fears all the more infuriating. Especially seeing as certain ones did overlap and interfere with their domains.

The End was the least annoying, if you asked Death.  Sure, it and its Avatars claimed credit for her work, but she wasn't doing it for credit.  It made her job a little harder, but people feared her Gift even without the help of an eldritch fear entity.  Its efforts didn't really matter, when it came down to it. She won small victories over the End every day; it couldn't stop her from showing up to take even the ones it had the strongest claims on to the Sunless Lands, and she had long been an expert on soothing people's fears and bringing them comfort.

(Even those trapped in the book once held by Mary Keay would someday go with her.  She was there when Jonathan Sims burned Gerard Keay's page, and though he had been suspicious he had gone with her gladly once she assured him that he was finally free and could find rest.)

(Dream did not share his sister’s opinion on the End.  It was constantly encroaching on the Dreaming, something he could not tolerate. Yet no matter how many times he banished it, the End always found a new dreamer to sink its hooks into.

It was the second most annoying Fear, in Dream's opinion.)

Despair could almost appreciate the Lonely.  Loneliness often lead to her realm, and the Lonely hovered at its borders.  But very few of its victims found their way to her.  Oh, they despaired, but like all the other entities the Lonely held tight to those in its grasp and did not give them up easily.  It also would not allow mirrors, further limiting her access.  Desire found the Lonely amusing.  People who are lonely often ache with desire for another's company, after all.  

Desire was also fascinated with the Web.  True manipulation requires knowing and being able to twist someone's desires.  And if the convoluted plans that the entity was known for gave Desire ideas for their own plans, well.  It made their games more interesting. 

("He wants subtle?  He'll get subtle." Desire growled as their carriage pulled away from Dream's retreating form, the King of Pain licking their shoes, contrite.  And they sought out the nearest spider, watching the tireless work put into a plan that spanned years…)

It was impossible for an outside observer to determine what Delirium thought of the Spiral.  She felt at home in the hallways of the Distortion (had held the hand of that little piece of Michael as he wept and raged against his fate), and perhaps she liked the entity it represented.  But there was no joy in its madness (and the little part of her that remembered being Delight wept with Michael), so perhaps she didn't. 

(Delirium was there in the Unknowing, dancing with clowns and acrobats and Archival Assistants.  She was by Tim Stoker's side when he pressed the detonator, and stayed with him until her older sister came to collect him.  She watched his anger melt into acceptance, tears welling in his eyes when Death told him, "Danny's waiting for you.")

If one could find the Prodigal, where his siblings couldn't, he would refuse to acknowledge the Desolation.  It was simply further proof that he wasn't needed.

Destiny had no opinion on the Fears.  All was as written in his book, and not even the Dread Powers could escape that.

The most irksome of the Fears, in Dream's opinion, was the Eye.  It had recently risen to this position, having taken advantage of Dream's imprisonment to seize a portion of the Dreaming.  It completely cut that portion off from the rest, and Dream felt it like a missing limb once he was freed.  After retrieving his tools and dealing with the overdue Dream Vortex, he tried many times to breach the walls the Eye had put up.  That he was unsuccessful enraged him.  The Eye abducted dreamers from the true Dreaming, making them relive their entity-induced trauma in nightmares not of Dream's making, with no purpose other than to feed.  Worse, it forced its Archivist to watch, continuously damaging his psyche.

(The man who appeared in Jon's dreams while he slept in Upton House had no true eyes, and it was a comforting thing.  He doubted the Eye could spy on him through twin stars set into empty, shadowed sockets.  The man spoke of things he didn't understand, of a place that Jon used to go to regularly but didn't anymore, and how he would be welcome again now that the Eye's influence was blocked.  He told Jon he would have good dreams, that it was all he could do since he and most of his siblings were blocked from their duties.  None of it made sense to Jon–and it should have been infuriating, having one more thing not fully explained, yet another cosmic entity taking liberties while telling him almost nothing, but it somehow wasn't, and maybe it was because his head was quieter than it had been in a long time, or some quality in the low, even voice that made him trust that for once, this powerful being truly meant him no harm.  Especially since he did have good dreams; he dreamed of Martin and the cabin and good cows.  And for a few days, that was enough to put the hunger out of his mind.)

(It wasn't only Avatars or those touched and changed by the Fears who walked freely in the hellscape of Jonah Magnus' triumph.  Rose Walker, former Vortex and Child of the Endless, found herself responsible for both her brother Jed and little Daniel Hall.  They searched for any sign of Lyta or Carl or Hal to no avail. They grew desperate enough for Rose to try calling for Dream, which she never thought she'd willingly do.

Though Dream could not reach them, they found a man similarly unaffected by the supernatural forces that had twisted the world.  He had warm eyes and a warm smile and his arms settled around Daniel with the care and experience of someone who had been a father before, though it had been a long time.  He told them to call him Hob.  Daniel and Jed took an immediate liking to him, and though Rose was more wary, she couldn't deny it was better to have him around.  They ran into a woman named Johanna Constantine, but she declined to travel with them.  Rose and Jed were disappointed, since a bigger group was presumably safer, but Hob didn't mind; her uncanny resemblance to her ancestor put him on edge.

When they stopped to rest, Rose and Jed huddled together while Hob gently rocked Daniel.  He filled the hours with stories, about a man who declared he would not die, and the Stranger (Hob's Stranger, not the entity that fed off of people's fear of strangers and uncanny valleys) who met with him every century in order to see how long he would hold that conviction.

After the Fears were banished, screaming, from the world, Dream found them, the immortal and the Children of the Endless and the child conceived in the Dreaming still together.  Hob had thrown himself over the other three, so certain in his immortality that he didn't hesitate to use his body to shield his more vulnerable companions.

There were reunions both enthusiastic and hesitant, along with a chorus of "Wait, you know him!?" that lead to hysterical, relieved laughter from the adult humans, while Dream and Jed watched in confusion and Daniel babbled as babies do.  Rose found her fear of Dream lessened after realizing he was the person in Hob's stories.  Dream found that he felt even more amazed by his oldest friend, who had kept his niece and nephew and the child who may yet be important to the Dreaming safe.  Hob found out exactly how grateful Dream was for that, and barely had enough time to pass off Daniel to Rose before he started to express his gratitude.)

(As the knife sank into him, Jon held tightly to his dreams from Upton House, and to Martin.  He held on to hope, for freedom…and for Someplace Else.)

[tehuti88-art]

4/5/24: r/SketchDaily theme, "Free Draw Friday." A twofer this week.

This week's characters from my anthro WWII storyline are Kolten Himmel and Anna Maria Himmel. Wait, didn't I already do Kolten Himmel...? Yes...technically, Kolten Himmel II. This here is his grandfather, and his grandmother; these are Capt. Otto Himmel's parents. They never appear in the main story as they're long deceased by then, though they played a big role shaping Himmel's actions and values. (Himmel's old description is way out of date, BTW.) Kolten senior is a merchant marine/sailor (thus the cap) whose ship is lost at sea when Otto is very young; his mother, who is poor but hardworking, very pious, and prone to mystical visions, dies when he's fourteen, so he decides to lie about his age and join the army. There'll be more about them later in my art Tumblr and Toyhou.se.

Regarding their designs: Kolten's cap design is based on what I could find of late 1800s/early 1900s images of German sailors, though I'm unsure if he's part of an official navy, or just a random sailor who ends up on whatever ship will take him (I lean toward the latter). I'm not certain about Anna Maria's hairstyle or hair color (she's supposed to look a bit more, uh, Edwardian, I guess?--but I had too much trouble drawing an upswept hairstyle), so that may change; there's a lot of sea-themed religious symbolism regarding how she and Kolten meet, so I decided to grant her one indulgence, sapphire earrings. (When Himmel leaves home he takes these, and Kolten's tally which he'd previously given to Anna Maria, to remember them by.)

TUMBLR EDIT: I wanted to draw these two as a pair. As I worked on them, the story of how they met poured into my head. I'll treat them as one entry but truncate Anna Maria's entry to avoid repetition; result, since I know a bit more about her than him, Kolten's entry here will be from her POV.

Anna Maria Traugott is poor but a hard worker, scraping by doing odd jobs--typing, filing papers, mending clothes, various sorts of housework, she toils for whoever will pay her, and does so without complaint. She comes from a Catholic family as hardworking and humble as she is, though by now she's on her own. She's also very religious, though her piety manifests in a somewhat unusual way: She has prophetic dreams and occasional visions, which sometimes almost seem to predict the future, though more often, they give her signs, divine signs, which she uses to guide her actions. She's especially devoted to Mary, her namesake, keeping a little shrine to her in her living quarters and often praying for advice. Hand in hand with her mystical visions comes an occasionally crushing melancholia; it's only her faith that keeps her going through it, though it gets difficult sometimes, and a dark cloud always looms over her. She has the brooding feeling that her life will be cut short at some point...she doesn't fear this, rather it just seems inevitable, fate, somehow. She just plows through her days with the steadfast belief that God will provide until He no longer will. It's not her place to question.

Anna Maria is busy mending clothes one day when the owner of the shop directs a customer to her. A tall man in a sailor's outfit enters, removing his cap respectfully; he offers her a shirt with a torn sleeve. Anna Maria says she can fix it, if he'll wait just a bit. She looks up at him as she takes the shirt. He has pale blue eyes, like the daytime sky; she blinks, and he does too. He offers a very small smile, thanks her, and takes a seat. She quickly stitches the shirt, good as new; he pays the shopkeeper, who sets aside Anna Maria's cut. The sailor thanks her again, bobbing his head; he seems to linger just a beat longer than usual before departing. Anna Maria has a funny feeling. He wasn't at all like most of the sailors who pass through. For some reason, her thoughts keep wandering back to him throughout the day. On a whim, when her work is done, she heads to the river where the nearest port is and the docks are always busy. She glances at the ships, having no idea really what she's doing, but then, she sees it: A ship's bow, emblazoned with the name DAS LICHT DES MEERES. The Light Of The Sea. She doesn't know how she knows. But she knows that's the ship.

The sailor with the sky-blue eyes is nowhere to be seen. Anna Maria wanders the dock for a few moments. She starts feeling a little foolish--why is she even here, what is she doing?--and turns around to head back toward land. And gasps when she nearly runs right into him. The sailor exclaims, "I knew it!"

Anna Maria: *recovering herself* "Knew...knew what?"

Sailor: "I knew I would find you here!" *shakes head* "I know I sound mad but...I had a feeling. That you'd be here looking for me. You are looking for me, ja...?" *starting to look embarrassed* "Bitte, tell me I'm not mad."

Anna Maria: *shakes head* "Nein...you're not mad."

Sailor: *encouraged* "I just...had this feeling. It's so odd. I don't know how to explain it, but I knew."

Anna Maria: "You don't have to explain...I understand it. I had a feeling, too."

Sailor: *beams for a moment* "I...I didn't get your name. I meant to ask..."

Anna Maria: "Anna...Anna Maria. Traugott."

Sailor: "Kolten. Kolten Himmel."

Anna Maria: *blinks* "Himmel...?"

Kolten: *smiles* "Ja." *pause* "I wondered...could I see you again? Tomorrow maybe?"

Anna Maria: *blushes* "Ah...all right. There's...there's a little outdoor cafe, not far from the shop, we could meet there...?"

Kolten: "Cafe." *bobs head* "Tomorrow, then...? At noon?"

Anna Maria: "Noon." *nods & blushes* "Ja."

Kolten: "I'll see you then." *steps back* "It was good to speak with you, Fräulein Traugott."

Anna Maria: "Good...good to speak with you, Herr Himmel."

The sailor--Kolten--smiles, turns, heads back for the ship. Anna Maria heads home. After doing her own chores and eating her little supper she kneels by the tiny shrine and lights a candle. Clasps her crucifix and stares at the small figure of Mary imploringly. "Is it a sign...?" she murmurs. "His eyes...the ship...Himmel?" To run across a sailor named Heaven, with eyes as blue as the heavens, sailing on The Light Of The Sea, when she's named after, and every evening prays to, the Star of the Sea...I mean, how can it not be a sign? A sign of WHAT, she's not sure--she gingerly asks, "Does it mean...he and I...the two of us...?" before trailing off. She's seriously never given a thought to such things; she's just assumed she was meant for a solitary life of hard work and contemplation. And she tells herself not to jump ahead of herself. But her heart's been beating a little bit faster since she first looked up into Kolten's sky blue eyes and saw his small smile...it looks like a sign. She blows out the candle, goes to bed, sleeps only fitfully. She keeps dreaming of the sky and of the sea.

The next day she heads for the cafe. As she draws near, though, her step falters. Will he even be there? She's heard of sailors and their ways, what does she even have to offer him? Yet...he'd said he had a feeling. Just like she did. Like it was meant to happen. It's not her place to question. She looks over her shoulder, briefly contemplates turning away and forgetting this impulse, then makes up her mind and turns back. And ahead of her, coming from the opposite direction, there he is. He sees her at the same instant she sees him, and a smile spreads across his face. She feels herself smiling in return, and goes to meet him.

They stop before each other and both say, "I thought--" then cut themselves off. Both gesture for the other to speak first; he does so, saying, "I thought you might not come." She admits she thought the same. "I'm not used to visiting cafes," Kolten says as if mildly embarrassed, casting it a glance; realizing that sailors are far more likely to visit taverns, Anna Maria blushes and says, "Neither...neither am I, to be honest." Though she has a reason different from his; to take lunch at a cafe is a luxury she can't really afford. Kolten looks at her, seems to understand; he glances aside, toward a nearby park. "The weather is good today," he suggests, "why don't we go for a walk?" Anna Maria accepts, feeling a twinge of relief. Although it's a sin to be proud, and she's not really ashamed of being poor, she does feel bad that she can't treat him to something nice, and she doesn't want to have him pay; his small suggestion helps put her at ease.

They head into the park, getting to know each other a little better as they slowly walk along the path. She asks him how long he's been a sailor. About as long as he's been able to climb aboard a boat, Kolten tells her; he lost his parents and took to the water when he was quite young. He practically grew up on the ships, raised by the crews during the day, rocked to sleep by the waves at night, so "I have land legs more for the sea than for the actual land, as funny as it sounds," he says. Anna Maria says she lost her parents when she was rather young as well. "Seems we have some things in common," Kolten says, and it's true, in a way they're in the same boat...metaphorically speaking. Although they've known each other only a day, she feels comfortable with him, and he's so kind and warm, a ray of sunlight in her relatively dreary life; as their walk nears its end she asks him when his ship is heading out again. Kolten's smile fades. "Tomorrow morning," he replies; Anna Maria's disappointment turns into a sharp pang of despair when she asks how long he'll be away, and he replies, about four months.

The dark cloud moves in again. Still, it had seemed like a sign; Anna Maria feels that they aren't meant to part yet, not so soon. She summons the courage to ask, "Will...will I see you again?" Kolten replies, "If you come looking for me." Emboldened, Anna Maria promises she'll come to the port to wait for him, and in return, he promises he'll be there, looking for her. The dark cloud dissipates a little. "Oh," Kolten says, as if just thinking of something; he takes off his cap, and unties the tally, removing it; he holds it out to her, saying, "Here." Anna Maria shakes her head, "Oh--no, I can't," she protests, but he says he can simply get another one, so she tentatively takes the ribbon. "Keep hold of it," Kolten says, then, "For luck, until I come back." "For luck," Anna Maria echoes, and they share a small smile. They part ways at the park's entrance, she heading home, he to the docks. She visits the port the next morning to watch Das Licht Des Meeres depart; she catches sight of Kolten untangling ropes on the deck, and he spots her as well. He smiles, lifts his cap, bobs his head; he's already replaced the tally, and the long ends of it whip around in the breeze. Anna Maria smiles back, shows him the old tally clasped in her hand, and waves. He disappears from sight, likely called to some ship duty or other; she watches for a while as the gangway is removed and the ship slowly pulls away from the docks, then heads off to work for the day. That evening, she lights her candle, clasps the tally to her breast, recites prayers for the ship's safe journey. She follows this little ritual for the next four months, without fail. She's certain her meeting with Kolten was predetermined, that it means something. She knows they'll meet again.

Anna Maria keeps her eye on the newspapers posted near the docks. They carry schedules of the ships' voyages, when they leave, when they're expected to return. Every day she anxiously scours the listings; her heart leaps into her throat when Das Licht Des Meeres appears, along with the estimated date of arrival. She waits on the dock every morning with Kolten's tally in her hand, fingers rubbing the cloth as if it's the beads of her rosary. The ship slowly pulls in to port one crisp morning; she cranes her neck, watching as the gangplank is brought out and the sailors begin to disembark with their duffel bags; she doesn't see him exit the ship, but as the noisy crowd thins, there he is, further along the dock; he sees her the moment she sees him, and just as before, he beams at her, and she smiles back. She goes to meet him, holds out the old tally. His smile goes from ear to ear; as if in jest, he removes the ribbon on his cap, and trades it for the old one. "Now you keep that one for luck," he says, tying the old tally around his cap, and Anna Maria's heart thumps.

Kolten is on leave for two weeks. He makes it clear he'd like to spend all that time in her company. Anna Maria blushes bright red, but doesn't mind. She regrets only that she has to work every day, yet Kolten promises he'll see her in the mornings, noons, and evenings. He does well enough to rent himself lodgings in the meantime. The next two weeks are absolutely lovely, and Kolten is an absolute gentleman; he never tries anything inappropriate, even though Anna Maria confesses to Mary that she has feelings for him, and she's sure he feels the same for her. She feels a twinge of guilt that she has a few rather impure thoughts, yet doesn't act on them, and he never pushes her to. When the time comes yet again for them to sadly part ways--his next voyage will last about three months--he does pause, and hesitantly makes a request: "Would you...would you mind, if I kissed you...?" Anna Maria feels her face flush hot--she wants to bury her head in the ground, and to yell, "Nein, nein, NEIN I would not mind!!", at the same time--but she manages to swallow the lump in her throat and stammer, "Uh--I--I wouldn't mind." Kolten pauses--giving her a moment to collect herself--then leans down and gently places his lips to hers, lingering only briefly before pulling away. It's chaste, it lasts but a short moment, yet her heart hammers in her breast and her neck tingles. Kolten stands straight again and offers his soft smile--"For luck," he murmurs--and heads for the ship. Anna Maria stays long enough to look for him on the deck and wave farewell at his cap-lift-head-bob; she heads back to work, then home. Lights her little candle. Says her little prayers. Retires to bed, and has all sorts of dreams...she makes sure to stop by the church and pop into a confessional the next day, she's so overwhelmed by the feelings. What she's not overwhelmed by is guilt...she has a feeling they're meant for each other, that soon, they'll be together, as husband and wife.

The process repeats. She prays at night, works during the day, starts checking the newspapers when the three months is almost up. Das Licht Des Meeres arrives; it feels like an old friend by now. Kolten appears on the dock as if by magic, smiles his beaming smile at the sight of her. His mood dims a bit when he says his leave this time is only a few days, she's saddened too, but they decide to make the most of it. "I wish you didn't always have to go," she murmurs when they prepare to part ways again, clasping each other's hands; "I wish I could keep you near." Her words seem to have an effect on Kolten; he pauses, bites his lip, then pulls his hands free and unties his duffel, digging inside. "I wasn't sure when to give this to you," he says as he looks; "now feels like the right time." He finds what he's looking for, pulls it out--"I found this at our last port of call, it made me think of you"--and holds it out to her: A small box. Anna Maria stares at it a moment, thinking surely it's not what it looks like; then Kolten kneels and opens it. A gold band, with a glittering blue jewel adorning it. She sucks in a breath of disbelief at the beauty of it.

"I saw it in a shop and it was like a sign," Kolten says; "It reminded me of your earrings...and your eyes." He takes the ring out of the box and holds it toward her earnestly; Anna Maria hesitates only briefly, swallowing, before holding out a trembling hand. Kolten slips the ring on her finger, then lingers holding her hand in his. "Now you can keep me near," he says, "until I come back." Anna Maria's eyes blur; she takes a breath, finds her voice, and, "Ja," she murmurs. "Ja...I will."

Kolten and Anna Maria wed on his next leave, and she becomes Anna Maria Himmel. She feels like her heart will burst. Sure, there's still the ever-present complication of his work, taking him away for weeks or months at a time, over and over, yet he always returns, and then they're near inseparable. For a long time, the dark cloud only lingers at the periphery of her vision, as she has him to focus her attention on. More than once he expresses the desire to spoil her--he's not rich by any means, a sailor's savings come and go, but he does well enough--yet she insists she doesn't need much, she's happiest having him by her side.

As the two stroll through the park one evening, Anna Maria suddenly gasps and stumbles to a halt--for an instant she's blinded, then the vision floods her head. She dimly hears Kolten exclaim, "Anna--? Anna Maria--!" before she slumps to the ground. The vision burns overwhelming all her senses for what feels like ages, though when she finally, slowly comes to, lying on the path with Kolten kneeling over her and squeezing her hand, she can tell it's been only a moment. Her visions never last long. He calls her name a few more times, relieved that she's awake, but worried that she may have hit her head, and even when she says she didn't he wishes to take her to a doctor; she declines, insisting she's fine. He's unconvinced until she attempts explaining the reason for her "fainting."

Anna Maria: "I...I didn't want to tell you...I was worried what you might think of me."

Kolten: "I'm your husband, it's obvious I would find out sometime. What didn't you want to tell me?"

Anna Maria: *reluctant* "I...have visions, sometimes."

Kolten: *furrowing brow* "Visions...? What sort of visions?"

Anna Maria: "...Visions from Mother Mary...sometimes the saints."

Kolten: "What do you see?"

Anna Maria: "They show me the answers to things...once in a while something that's to happen yet." *pause* "Kolten...I'm sorry I never told you. I worried you might think me mad."

Kolten: "Why would I think you mad...? It's plain you have a gift."

Anna Maria: *peers up at him* "Sometimes...it feels almost like a curse, instead."

Kolten: "Don't for a moment think of it that way. There are people who would kill for such an ability. You have something special." *pause* "What was it that you saw just now?"

Anna Maria: *faintly* "...An eagle...black...with two heads."

Kolten: *furrowing brow again* "The Reichsadler...? Do you have any idea what it would mean?"

Anna Maria: "Nein...no idea."

Kolten helps Anna Maria back to her feet and they head home. He fawns over her the rest of the night, making sure she's all right and well rested; by bedtime they've forgotten all about the odd incident. Indeed, something else occurs a bit later that completely draws their attention away from the vision--Anna Maria wakes abruptly from a dream, her gasp waking Kolten as well, and as he attempts to calm her down he asks what she dreamed about. "I dreamed I was holding a pear," she says, sleepy and confused. Kolten seems just as perplexed, asks what does a pear mean. Without thinking, Anna Maria shifts her hands; she and Kolten both look down to see that she's placed them over her belly, as if to protect herself. They look at each other.

It's far too soon to go to a doctor, but Anna Maria is certain of it: She's pregnant. When Kolten's next tour comes up, he's reluctant to leave her on her own, and even contemplates a change of profession, something that would keep him on land. Although she wants him to stay near as well, Anna Maria objects: "Remember what you told me? You have legs more for the sea than for land. The sea is your home, I'd never ask you to give it up." "You're my home," Kolten says, to which she smiles and replies, "Then you'll have to come back to me."

Kolten's tour lasts over four months. Anna Maria is awaiting him on the dock when Das Licht Des Meeres arrives; he can hardly run to and embrace her fast enough. He exclaims over the sight of her; she's showing by now, something that was gradual to her, but not to him. After he gets his belongings put away he tends on her hand and foot despite her protests, though she has to admit the attention is nice. The amount of time he'll be on leave is up in the air at the moment, but he promises to stay right by her as much as he can. She even manages a break from working every day, and catches up on some much-needed rest.

The pregnancy progresses normally, no scares, no worries but the usual. Anna Maria hopes to be the best mother she can; she prays at her little shrine (Kolten doesn't share her religiosity, yet he never criticizes it either, and makes every effort to understand and accept it), asks Mother Mary for her guidance, pays close attention to her dreams and to possible signs, yet nothing else overt appears. Kolten is called up again and she can tell the news crushes him--he offers to decline the voyage--but she can't bear to be the one to stand between him and the one other love of his life; she insists that he go, there's nothing to feel guilty about, she'll be waiting as always when he returns. It's almost certain that he won't be back before the birth of their child, but he clasps her hands and vows that if even the tiniest shred of possibility for him to get back to her in time arises, he'll grab it. She sees the ship off, holding up his old tally for him to see; from the deck, he sadly lifts his cap, bobs his head, as Das Licht Des Meeres pulls away.

As expected, Kolten is still at sea when Anna Maria goes into labor. Neighbors take her to the hospital; the process is prolonged and painful, but she gives birth to a healthy baby boy in the sign of Capricorn, a creature half of the land, half of the sea. She cradles him close and when his eyes finally blink open, she sees that they look a lot like hers, a darker, gloomier blue than his father's light, sky-blue eyes. The nurses take him away to let her get some rest, and she dozes off into a dreamless sleep. When she awakes, she sleepily looks to the side and finds Kolten there, the baby now cradled in his own arms; he blinks out of a doze and immediately leans toward her when she says his name. His ship had stopped in another port previously; unable to stand it anymore, he'd requested an extended leave, and took the train to get to her. He regrets not being there for the birth, "But I'm here now. I'm not leaving for a while." He marvels over their new baby--"He has your eyes!"--and asks what she's named him. Anna Maria says she hasn't named him yet...she hoped the two of them could think of something together. Kolten seems surprised by this answer, and admits that he has no ideas. The two new parents sit there for a while staring at the sleeping baby before Kolten says, "Well...I'm sure a name will come to you, ja? Some sort of sign? We just have to keep our eyes open." "They want a name for us to put on the birth certificate," Anna Maria laments, but Kolten replies that they'll just have to wait: "I know it'll come to you when the time is right. We only need to listen."

The nurse visits with them, asks for a name, suggests that the hospital keep hold of the birth certificate until they think of something. They return home once Anna Maria is strong enough. She frets and fusses over the baby, though it's mostly just anxiety; he's healthy, he's well behaved and not colicky, he meets all the expectations a baby is supposed to meet. He just doesn't have a name. Anna Maria and Kolten try to give him the best childhood they can afford, which, in their circumstances, means lots of walks in the parks and streets. He's too young yet to ride on his father's shoulders, and they have no stroller, so they take turns carrying him; he blinks his big blue eyes curiously at everything around him, cooing curiously. Kolten tells him the names of everything he sees; he's too young yet to speak, but "He's bright, brighter than both of us, I just know it," Kolten murmurs proudly, "Just watch, he'll learn everything, and go to the best universities." "Liebe, we can't afford universities," Anna Maria protests; Kolten just pooh-poohs her: "We'll find a way! And even if we don't, even if he never sets foot in a university, just you watch. He'll make something of himself. He'll make a difference. I know you don't care for the big things. But even a small thing can be important. He'll do something that matters, just watch." Anna Maria says, "Even if it matters just for one person...that's enough. It doesn't have to be anything grand, I just want his life to mean something." Kolten grasps her hand and replies, "It will. I have a feeling. Whatever he does, it'll matter."

They visit a nearby, larger city, and stroll around through its heart, admiring the old buildings, the streets, the statues. Kolten is busy murmuring the names of various things that capture the baby's attention and make him wave his hands when Anna Maria, walking along lost in her thoughts, lifts her head and sees it--looming over her, a large eagle, black, double headed. She gasps and jerks to a halt. Kolten hurries to her side, ready to ask what's wrong, when he sees it as well, eyes widening, so she knows it's not just her this time. It takes a moment for her shock to fade enough for her to realize she's staring at the side of a pedestal of a statue; Kolten hands her the baby, and circles around to the statue's front, looking up--it's the figure of a crowned man bearing an orb and a cross scepter--then down again at its base. "Otto der Grosse," he reads from the inscription, "Holy Roman Emperor." He blinks, lowers his head, looks at Anna Maria and then down at the baby. "Otto," he says, with an air of immense confidence.

Anna Maria, however, isn't so sure; she furrows her brow. "Otto...?" she murmurs doubtfully; "It isn't even a Biblical name." She just assumed the child would end up named something like Johann, or Matthias. Yet Kolten seems convinced: "The vision you had with the Reichsadler! It was just before your dream, with the pear. They're connected, surely, ja?--this must be the sign!" Seeing her hesitation, he falters a little: "Unless I misunderstand...? You are the one who saw it...am I interpreting it wrong?" Anna Maria just stares at the baby for a moment or so; "Otto," she says softly, and he looks up at her, blue eyes focusing on hers. She glances up at the statue, back down at the baby, and he appears to notice the statue too, for he stretches out an arm and makes a noise, as if wanting to know what it is; "Otto," Anna Maria says again, without thinking, and the baby says, "Ah," because he's too young to speak, but all of a sudden her mind is made up. She looks up at Kolten, her own expression certain now, and nods.

After their trip they return to the hospital, have the birth certificate filled out. Anna Maria brings the baby to the church to be baptized and although she doesn't give him a new, Christian first name, she does give him a saint's middle name: Otto Aloysius Himmel. Baby Otto makes an unpleasant face and lets out a displeased mewl when the water trickles over him.

Kolten eventually returns to the sea; Anna Maria receives help from her neighbors and the church in raising young Otto. Just as his father had predicted, Otto is bright, curious, intelligent; he's quiet and a bit shy and serious--Anna Maria can't help but spot a trace of her own melancholia in him, and it hurts--but is also eager to learn new things, always asking questions when he's unsure of something, and always remembering what he's learned. Anna Maria is thankful that, although he always listens fascinated to the stories Kolten tells him of being at sea every time he returns home, Otto appears to have no inclination to follow him out onto the water; he remains firmly on the land, showing as much fascination for the rites and rituals his mother engages in, joining her when she offers prayers at her little shrine to Mary. She and Kolten pool their savings to send Otto to the best schools they can afford once he's old enough; Anna Maria hopes for him to have a better life than either of them had. They aren't rich, they have to watch every pfennig, and Kolten is far too often away from home, leaving mother and son on their own for long periods; yet they manage, and aside from a gloomy spell of Anna Maria's here and there, they're happy.

One lowering, cloudy day, Anna Maria and Otto accompany Kolten to the docks to see him off; he's to be away for a couple of months. They stop not far from the ship and Kolten turns to smile at Anna Maria. She blinks--suddenly, her husband is surrounded by a glow like a halo in a religious painting, backlighting him, nearly casting his features into shadow. She thinks maybe it's the sun breaking through the clouds, yet the sky is as dark as before. It's a beautiful, wondrous sight--yet Anna Maria's heart twists, and her blood runs cold. "Don't go," she blurts out, without thinking. Kolten blinks, furrows his brow; even Otto peers up at her, puzzled. Kolten seems to notice the distress on her face; "Anna...?" he says; then, "You saw something. What is it?" When she doesn't reply, he grasps her hands, hard. "If you want me to stay," he urges, "just ask it. I'll stay. I'll never go out there again if it's what you wish. I'll find another job...something working the docks, maybe...still near the water." He glances over his shoulder at Das Licht Des Meeres, then back at her. "All you have to do is ask me, and I'll do it."

Anna Maria nearly tells him to stay, to never go out on the water again, because something is telling her, an alarm bell is clanging in her head, that if he does, she's never going to see him again. Yet she sees something else, a flicker in Kolten's eyes. There's grief lurking just under the surface, grief and loss for something that hasn't happened yet--and only she can prevent it from happening. She knows, just as surely as she knows this is the last time she'll see her husband, that if she asks him to stay, she'll break his heart. He'll still be with her, he'll still be alive...but will he, really? He has two homes, after all, and she would be asking him to give up the first one he's ever known. She's known such feelings of pain and emptiness all her life...she can't bear the thought of inflicting them on anyone else, if she has the choice. She can break his heart...or she can break her own.

Anna Maria swallows, blinks the blur from her eyes, takes a breath. Summons the most convincing yet wavery smile she can manage. Clasps Kolten's hands back, and shakes her head. "Nein," she says, "just...come back to me?"

Kolten stares at her a moment longer before visibly relaxing. He touches her face. "I'll always come back to you," he murmurs, "I promise." He kisses her forehead, wishes her farewell; kneels to kiss Otto's forehead, tells him, as always, that he's the man of the house for now, and Otto promises to do his best and be good; then, with a last glance back, Kolten turns and heads up the gangway. Anna Maria and Otto wait on the dock until he appears far above; he lifts his cap, tally streaming, and bobs his head, blowing them a kiss. Then, he's gone. Anna Maria lingers this time, clasping Otto's hand, and doesn't stop watching until Das Licht Des Meeres is long out of sight. "Mutter...?" Otto murmurs, finally drawing her out of her thoughts; she smiles at him through the beginning of her tears, and they head home.

Anna Maria returns to working during the days, prays to Mary every night. Begs her to look after Kolten, to keep him safe. Otto does his lessons, does his chores, helps any way he can even though he's still so young, Anna Maria's heart aches for him, for the childhood he should have. She watches the newspapers, and eventually Das Licht Des Meeres appears in the schedule; she takes Otto to the docks to wait. The ship doesn't arrive on the expected day, yet this in itself isn't alarming; it's been as late as a week on more than one occasion. Anna Maria swallows her anxiety, puts on a brave face for Otto--"Maybe Vater will arrive tomorrow"--and takes him home. Yet the ship doesn't arrive the next day, or the next...a week passes, with her heart clenching harder in her chest every day, and still no word of what's happened. Anna Maria questions the dock workers, the merchants, the sailors and captains of the other ships that arrive; they have no news to give her, although they're obviously sympathetic. She asks the man who posts the newspaper near the docks; he says there's been no word of Das Licht Des Meeres yet, though he's heard there were storms reported along her route. Anna Maria fights back the tears as she mumbles her thanks; she manages to hold them off until she's lying in bed alone that night, and cries herself to sleep.

Anna Maria opens her eyes, then squints, confused, when light pours into her room; "Otto...?" she murmurs, thinking maybe he's opened the shutters. The windows are still dark--yet the walls, floor, and ceiling are rippling with soft bluish light. Kolten is standing across from the bed, staring at her, his eyes sad. Anna Maria gasps--"Kolten!"--and bolts upright in the bed, ready to throw off the blankets and run to him...yet he's surrounded by the same brilliant halo as before, and it's as if a soft breeze flows around him, lifting the edges of his clothes, the trailing ends of his tally. As Anna Maria stares, she realizes what it looks like...it looks as if she's viewing Kolten through an undulating wall of water. As soon as she realizes this, Kolten raises his hand. Tips his cap...the tally gently waving behind it. Bobs his head. And fades away, the soft blue glow fading away with him.

Anna Maria doesn't want to believe that the vision meant what it looked like. Tells herself, perhaps he's still out there, just lost. Perhaps he's telling her he's trying to come home. She hopes against hope. She has trouble rousing Otto from bed one morning not long after; he mumbles that he doesn't feel well, and he's not prone to malingering. She presses a hand to his forehead, gasps at how hot he is, hurries to call a doctor. The doctor can't determine what specifically is wrong, without sending Otto away to a specialist; Anna Maria can hardly afford it, and the doctor isn't sure Otto could handle the journey anyway. He advises her to give him fluids, place cold cloths on him, keep watch for if he gets worse; other than that, there's little to be done, but hope and pray. Anna Maria does both, praying to Saint Aloysius and weeping before her little shrine at night, entreating Mary as a fellow grieving mother: "Bitte, don't take him from me," she begs through her tears, "I can't lose him, too. Bitte, let him get better. I'd give anything. Bitte, without him I have nothing left. Bitte..."

Otto burns with fever for over a week. Kolten's ship does not return. Anna Maria's neighbors bring food and well wishes, clean the house for her, do the chores, as she's in no shape to do so, spending almost every hour at her son's bedside, leaving him in the care of a friend only to wait on the docks. She dreams that Mother Mary tells her her son will live: "Death will come for him, over and over...sickness, war, the blade...yet it won't take him. Only age will touch him." Late one night, into the second week of this hell, she wakes at a faint call of "Mutter...!" drifting from Otto's room. She tosses on a robe, hurries to his bedside, lights the lamp; Otto's cheeks are still flushed, his face still sweaty, but when she touches him this time he's not nearly so hot. The fever has broken. "Mutter, I'm thirsty," he murmurs drowsily, so she tilts his head up and gives him a sip of water. Then--"I saw Vater," Otto says faintly, and Anna Maria's heart nearly stops.

A tremor in her voice, she asks him what he means. He repeats that he saw Kolten: "He looked sad. He told me he's not coming home. But he said to be strong, that I'm the man of the house now." He peers up at Anna Maria, who's barely holding back her tears. "Mutter...why is Vater not coming home?" he asks.

Anna Maria swallows, offers a faint, pained smile. "He's not coming home because he can't, Liebe," she murmurs. "He's somewhere else now and can't come home from there. I know he would, if he could." "Will we ever see him again...?" Otto asks, to which she nods, and puts her arm around him. "Ja, we will...we'll go to see him someday." "Soon?" Otto asks, and she shakes her head: "Nein, Liebe, not soon...not for a long time. But we'll see him again. I promise."

Otto is weak for a while as he recovers. A notice eventually appears in the papers, reporting the disappearance of Das Licht Des Meeres, presumed to have gone down in a squall with all hands aboard. Anna Maria cries every night alone in her room with her shrine. Her heart feels both too empty--empty from the hole Kolten's absence has left in it--and too full--full of all the love she has for Otto, the only one left in her life. Yet her heart breaks for him as well, as it's obvious now that he's inherited her gift, or her curse, or perhaps both. She'd hoped for a normal, happy life for him. She no longer has any fear of losing him--Mother Mary made it clear he will likely long outlive her--but she regrets that she can't offer him this one thing, that he has to shoulder such a burden himself. She wants to give him everything. But she hurts so much, she feels she has too little to offer anymore, and on especially dark days--which are growing more and more frequent without Kolten's warm, encouraging presence to stave them off--she wonders if her son would be better off without her darkness pulling him down like the waves pulled down Kolten's ship. She takes to calling him mein Licht, my light, as he's the only spark she has left.

Anna Maria holds on as long as she's able. She sends Otto to the best school that her and Kolten's savings can afford. He learns languages, history, literature, fencing. What the school doesn't teach him, he looks up on his own. He's always at her side when she visits church, even though it brings her far less comfort than it once did, and she wonders if her prayers are even heard anymore; her visions, her dreams, seem to have faded away since the last message from Mother Mary, and she fears she's no longer good enough for the saints' wisdom. Worst of all, she never dreams of Kolten, no matter how much her heart aches and her soul cries out for him. She numbly does her work for a pittance every day, but in the home, increasingly it's Otto who tends to the chores; more than once he has to coax her to care for herself, ask her to eat, or help her off the couch and to bed. On nights after he tucks her in and kisses her forehead--"Schlaf gut, Mutter"--she weeps silently into her pillow, and hugs the one where Kolten once rested his head. She grieves that he has no grave for her to visit. That he's down there somewhere, in the cold dark deep, with no light to watch over him. That she just can't bring herself to be the mother her son needs right now.

She holds on. Otto grows into his early teens, soft spoken, polite, dutiful, modest; a hard worker and a true believer just like she is; the neighbors, the churchgoers, his teachers, tell Anna Maria what a lovely son she has, he would have made his father proud. She always smiles and thanks them though her heart clenches inside. Her Otto needs a father, a mother, yet he pretty much has neither, as he has to look after her when he's home. She fears he'll never get to go out in the world, start his own family, find his own happiness and purpose. She feels as if she's the anchor holding him down, holding him back. Dragging him down into the dark after her.

The rumble of war arises, but she's not paying attention. The darkness is crushing her; even crying feels like too much effort anymore. One day while Otto is off at classes, Anna Maria sits down to write him a letter. She has to wipe her damp eyes and take a steadying breath now and then as she writes to her son that she's sorry he's on his own now, yet she knows he'll be all right, Mother Mary told her so; her visions may have stopped, but they've never steered her wrong. She tries to explain the darkness closing in, slowly drowning her, though she's sure he knows already what she's talking about, she's sorry also that she passed it on to him--if she could take it from him, do one useful deed to ease his own pain, she gladly would. She tells him her highest remaining hope, that he live his own life, no longer burdened by hers; she knows she will bring him grief no matter what she does, just that this feels like the lesser of two evils. Her Otto has to be strong. He has to forge ahead. He may be alone now, but not truly. God walks with him, and Mary and all the saints, and his father and the ancestors who've gone before. And not least of all, his mother, who will always love and watch over him, no matter what path he takes. Kolten had had a feeling that his life would go somewhere, would mean something. She feels it, too. She tells him one last time that she loves him, and always will: "I have never once been disappointed in you, mein Licht."

Otto returns home late in the afternoon; after classes, he often seeks small work in the city like his mother does, making what extra money he can to help out; he's excellent with paperwork, with files and typing and writing and organizing, so it's not too hard to find chores that the townsfolk need done, especially now that so many of the men are heading off to the front. "Sorry I'm late, Mutter," he exclaims as he comes in, wiping his boots, shaking off his coat, hanging up his cap; he heads straight into the little kitchen, opens cabinets, takes out a pair of bowls, a pan, sets down the small package of groceries he picked up for that evening's supper, which he always prepares for them since the decline in his mother's spirits. He gets everything up and cooking, prepares a drink, enters the parlor, expecting to find her lying listless on the couch, ready to gently rouse her and get her to take a sip as he tells her about his day--he always manages to get a wan smile out of her that way--yet the couch is empty, no one is there. "Mutter...?" he says, puzzled; he sets the drink down, looks around. "Mutter?" he calls louder as he wanders, before spotting an envelope on the hallway stand; he opens it, unfolds the paper, reads the delicate script. His face goes paler as he reads; he reaches the end, drops the letter--"Mutter?--Mutter!" he exclaims, and hurries down the hall to her room.

Anna Maria is lying atop the bedcovers, fully dressed, curled up on her side with her arms loosely around Kolten's pillow. She looks like she's simply sleeping, but her face is pale, and she's not moving. "Mutter," Otto says breathlessly, hurrying to her and grasping her hand--then gasping and letting it go. He freezes for a moment before gingerly touching her face. It's as cold as her hand. He sees something lying in a tangle of cloth and picks it up. A small bottle, labeled LAUDANUM. Otto's breath hitches and his vision blurs.

He sits by her for a little while as the shadows, both literal and figurative, grow around them. Holds her cold hand in his own and cries. Wipes his eyes, sniffling, and gets up to go turn off the stove before there can be an accident; he dumps out the uneaten food, puts away the unused dishes. Goes to his room, pulls out a little suitcase, and hastily but methodically packs a few necessities, clothes, food, money, personal papers, having to stop and wipe his eyes repeatedly. His step falters as he returns to his parents' room. He stares at his mother for a moment or so; she's not wearing her earrings, the blue ones his father had admired as reminding him of her eyes and the sea--it got to be too much effort to put on unnecessary jewelry every day--though she's of course wearing her rings, both her plain wedding band and the ring Kolten gave her with the blue stone. Otto wants something to remind him of her, to keep her close, but he can't take her rings. She needs to be wearing them when she meets Kolten again, wearing his. He goes to the dresser, finds the blue earrings, and, beside them, a black ribbon emblazoned in gold, DAS LICHT DES MEERES. Kolten's old tally, which he'd given Anna Maria so long ago, for luck.

Otto takes a breath, rubs his wet eyes, grabs the earrings and the tally and shuts the drawer. He tucks them and his mother's letter in his shirt. Then fetches the bottle of laudanum, and hides it far under the bed, beneath a loose board, and out of sight. Tries to hold back his tears as he kisses his mother's forehead--"Schlaf gut, Mutter," he murmurs--and then fetches his coat and cap, and goes to the neighbors', knocking loudly and calling out.

The neighbors are decent people. This door belongs to an elderly couple who respond quickly to Otto's cries, hurrying after him as he leads them to his mother. He tells them he couldn't wake her, that he found her like this. He tells only the truth, though not all of it; he doesn't mention the letter, or the bottle. The wife leads him to his room and sets him down, comforting him as her husband checks on Anna Maria before calling her back. She tells Otto to stay put a moment, though he creeps up the hall to listen in a bit. They're talking in hushed voices, but his hearing is good. The husband has found the bottle of laudanum, and says they need to inform the authorities. The wife protests, "Nein!" and in a whisper, explains: "You see the shrine--? They're Catholics. Suicide is the one unforgivable sin. If you mention this, she won't be buried in consecrated ground." She says they'll report it as an accident instead, and adds that she'll tell Otto the same, to spare him the shame. They can take him in in the meantime.

Otto hardly hears this last bit. He's busy returning to his room, fetching his packed case, and furtively exiting without a word. By the time they realize he's no longer within the home, he's long gone, running along the street, heading toward the train station. He remembers the train from when he was little and they occasionally visited the neighboring city, where his father pointed out the statue of Otto the Great. There's a military recruitment office there. Otto is only fourteen. Yet he believes he can lie convincingly enough that he's of age, and given the budding war and the need for soldiers, they may be lax in checking him out too closely. He reaches the station, buys a one-way ticket, and bustles aboard just as the train is preparing to pull away; he finds his car and squeezes into the seat, gasping for breath, case clasped to his chest. He digs in his shirt, finds the earrings and tally and letter, feels his eyes flood. He doesn't bother wiping away the tears as the train whistle blows and it slowly leaves the station; water is starting to stream down the window, so it's hard to tell where tears end and the rain begins. Over the port city, and seated alone in the train, the heavens begin to cry.

EDIT: Song for the Himmel family (closed captioning on for lyrics).

[Kolten Himmel 2024 [‎Friday, ‎April ‎5, ‎2024, ‏‎12:00:47 AM]]

[isaacathom]

I think the unifying thread of my ttrpg ocs is dealing with the feeling that you don't have control, whether that's over something specific or over their whole lives. and they all respond to it a bit differently

For Naielle Odelia, she had control and lost it, and has been slowly trying to claw it back. She attributes the loss to forces outside of her, and that's technically true in that it was a result of knowledge she gained from her pact patron, but she was the one who sought them out, she was the one who asked, she was the one who spread it and faced the consequence.

But, sure, let's agree she had no control over how her life was flipped turned upside down. Since then, after making the only choices available to her, she now has options, and she has those options because of the trust and kindness of those around her. Her uncle forced her to get up out of her funk and do something, its because of him that she is a ship navigator now. Her commanding officer promoted her to shipmaster, it's because of him she has authority and has gained more confidence in her decisions. Things like that!

She wants to use her pact for good, and through the help of others, she has the opportunity, and she is taking it. She doesn't always have free reign - she never does, really, and the actions of the forces arrayed against them constrain her options - but she fights for the chance to make choices. After taking her failings lying down, she stands up.

For Florian de Kasimir, he doesn't feel like he ever had control. For him, the 'loss' happened so young (8 or so) that he never really had an opportunity to exert control over his life. And, unlike Naielle, the incident was not something of his own creation - it was a misunderstanding, it was lies, etc. But because of that, he lost authority over himself in a way that he thinks he still doesn't have.

He believes that his entire life has been at someone else's hands - his parents, the people who lied about him, his commanders in the army, the king. Hell, even the woman who hired him for this quest he's on. And he responds to this by using it as a justification for his own failings. Oh, I'm not smart? well thats not my fault. Oh, I'm an asshole? well its not my fault. At the start, he isn't responsible for anything in his life.

But that has slowly shifted. Because previously, his actions only really interfered with his own life. If he'd been caught with fisstech while travelling alone, it's only his own life derailed (typical). But after her boss found out about it, the party doctor was made to carry the fisstech, and now, well... that means someone else is on the hook for his situation, isn't it? The fact this is the first time he's travelled with a group for a long span of time helps him slowly realise that, ah. Even if he doesn't have control over his own life - does he? - his actions do impact others.

And that forces him to shape up a bit. That if for noone else but the others he'll make an attempt. He'll fight vainly against the fate arranged for him from on high, if others want him to. He'll approach it like that.

For Zimri Maier, it's a little more complicated, because they aren't sure when they lost control due to amnesia. Is the amnesia the loss of control? Or did something shift earlier, and they don't remember?

It's not really angsty for them, though. Because for Zimri, they don't really care about that past loss - they have some authority now, don't they? - it's about the why of it. Zimri is driven forward by wanting to understand why this has happened to them, how.

This is because there are two questions they don't have the answers to. Why did they leave their home in Lepidstadt for Thrushmoor? And why did they close their bookshop, when that was one of their life goals?

They aren't really sure what they want the answers to those questions to be. Maybe they want it to be something out of their control - family tragedy forcing them to move on, bankruptcy forcing a closure, etc - so that they can look back and feel comfort that they didn't make these decisions that seem so foolish and nonsensical in hindsight. Maybe it'd be more comforting to know they weren't responsible. But if they are? If those were choices made with full clarity, by choice? What would that mean? A self reflection on what that makes them, who it means they became - or is it have become? Is it a rare chance to see a road taken and its dangers, to learn from those mistakes? Who knows.

[taechaos]

Blackmail

pairing: bully!Jungkook x nerdy!fem!Reader

genre: drabble, smut, college au

synopsis: Jimin offers you information on Jungkook, but your friendship is misconstrued by Jungkook who ends it singlehandedly with one video of you professing your love to him between moans.

warnings: dubcon, fingering, degredation, mild squirting, manipulation

word count: 2.8k

a/n: jealous kook doesn't realize he's jealous. this part is a bit extreme, so beware ><

One doesn't come across someone like Jungkook every day. It's fate that you met him in your first year of college, extending to your second where he grows closer to you; fair, it's clear that he only intends to use you for his academic success, but you've deluded yourself into thinking you're in love with each other. Growing up, you only had your dysfunctional family to teach you about how to love, how to think. As long as Jungkook needs you, he will love you, and you’re willing to do anything to be with him, only him. You need him to live.

Birds sing in the background as you lay on your stomach on the grass of the yard across the campus. It’s sunny and breezy, the perfect spring day as you work on Jungkook’s research paper due next month. You compiled multiple credible sources in a separate file to create an outline for his essay the moment he forwarded the assignment to you. You want him to praise you, pet your hair, kiss your cheek for starting so early so he can turn it in before anyone else. He would be proud, flashing you his pearly whites and adoring eyes. The reward motivates you to work harder and you’re relentlessly skimming through articles while counting down the minutes of Jungkook's lecture. He'll be outside with his friends in 7 minutes.

With a bad childhood, you don’t care to befriend many people. You only have a few friends to keep you company and you’re socially awkward outside of that group. You’re content, so you steer clear of boys who try to sabotage your relationship with Jungkook. Jimin, however, doesn’t get the memo.

Typing away on your laptop, a shadow looms over you to give you a break from the sunlight. You glance up and stop swinging your legs absentmindedly when you recognize the shadow; it’s a boy with frames and a tight collar adorning his neck.

Park Jimin is a typical nerd whereas you’re more of a closeted nerd. When you’re in love, you usually put more effort into your appearance to impress the one on your mind, but that doesn’t work with Jungkook. It’s always other men giving you their attention through second glances, and that includes Jimin.

“What do you want?” you rudely greet. Jimin is ruthless with his attempts at pursuing you; he’s the perfect gentleman, and often volunteers to do group tasks with you. He is never mean to anyone, and has a squeaky clean reputation, but his only flaw is that he can’t take a hint. You don't bother being friendly to him because you don't want friends.

"I want to know why you look so happy," he bends over to curiously glance at your screen, "while doing homework?"

You slam the monitor closed to stop his ogling. "You wouldn't get it. And stop watching me," you sternly say.

"What's your secret?" he grins and sits down on the grass next to you with crossed legs. His upper body serves as a shade and you stop squinting.

"There is no secret, I was just in a good mood until you came along." You're not upset, but you don't want to lead Jimin on and he won't leave unless you blow him off.

"Thinking of Jungkook?" he teases with a mischievous smile.

"Are you stalking me?"

"No, you're just too obvious," he chuckles, but the sound is strained. You don't notice his melancholy as he continues, "You were doing his homework again?"

You shift on your propped elbows a little uncomfortably. Jimin doesn't need to know what you do in your free time. "Yes," you answer anyway.

"You know he has daddy issues?"

Your eyes round as your discomfort dissipates instantly; he's piqued your interest. "Really?"

"Yeah, he has a tough exterior but he's actually a real softie."

An involuntary smile carves on your face before it falters as you ask, "How do you know this?"

"We went to high school together. I can tell you some stories if you want," he boasts when he realizes he has your attention. The context makes his heart sink, but when he imagines your lovesick grin is directed at him, it fills him with joy.

"Tell me, tell me! Please."

"Weeell," he draws with a lopsided grin, "don't tell him I told you this, but he used to hate girls. I don't know if he still does, but back then he couldn't even stand talking to a girl."

"Why?" your eyes are wide with interest as you whisper.

He shrugs, "No idea, but he hit a girl once when she wouldn't stop clinging onto him. Not like drop-kick her," he laughs, "he just shoved her on the ground. Be careful with him, okay? He can be very aggres-"

"You guys forming a nerd club now?"

You gasp when you hear Jungkook's voice. When you look up at him, he's almost glaring as his eyes flicker from you to Jimin. You're gleeful at his approach, because he never comes to you unless it's about a new assignment. It flutters your heart to see him without any papers in his hand.

You don't take his subtle insult to heart as you immediately respond, "No, we were just talking. H-Hi."

"Pull down your skirt, you look like a whore. I can see your panties all the way from the gates," he seethes in distaste. You instantly sit up with a blush and tug your skirt down to your knees. He looks back at Jimin who's glaring at him under his lashes, "The fuck's your deal?"

"Nothing," Jimin grits. Although he hates Jungkook's guts, he's too smart to fight a lost cause. He has his own set of muscles, but it isn't enough. It's best to accept defeat now.

"Did you start on the paper?" Jungkook asks you.

"Yes, I-"

"Good," he cuts you off and crouches to peck your lips by pulling the back of your neck. You're stunned when he pulls away and nonchalantly walks off to his friends.

Jimin follows him with his eyes and mutters under his breath, "douche."

Your heart is racing and you clamp a hand over your chest as a lovestruck smile spreads across your face. You know this is your end of the bargain, but it never fails to shrivel you up in delight.

"Are you two dating?" he mumbles as he pulls on the grass with a pout.

"Something like that," you exhale as you caress your lips.

It’s become routine to link up with Jimin where he reminisces his high school memories and you don’t doubt a single word he says unless it sheds a bad light on Jungkook. You’ve learned so much about him in the past few days, and you’re eager to know more. He likes energy drinks to this day, he was athletic in school and often got into fights. He began interacting with girls when he entered college, as Jimin says, “only for a quick fuck.”

Though it hurts Jimin that you only talk to him for information on Jungkook, he can’t bring himself to care when you hang onto every word he says with a glint in your eyes like you’re doing now.

You're sitting in the bustling cafeteria across from Jimin, sipping on a homemade strawberry lemonade from your thermos, and you don't notice Jungkook glancing at your table every now and then. It is the first time he doesn't feel your heavy gaze on him. Jimin does notice however, because he is facing him every time he receives a threatening ferile look.

"He could become a lawyer with how much he blackmailed the teachers to give him a good grade," Jimin tells you as he glances back and forth between you and Jungkook. "He's quite dangerous, you know. He's manipulative, a liar and has no empathy-"

"He's clever," you counter defensively, "he knows how to get around the system."

He makes a disgruntled noise from the back of his throat with a grimace. "I don't think the judge would listen to that."

You laugh at his comparison of the conversation to a court hearing. Jimin can be funny sometimes, and you have to admit that he's not that bad of a friend either. You've come to enjoy his company without the topic of Jungkook the past few days, but talking about him is always appreciated.

"Are you the judge then?" you cheekily ask.

"I might as well be, since I'm not biased like a certain someone," he teases with a grin.

"A lawyer has to see the bright side of things, but if I was the prosecutor, I wouldn't tell you that your lecture is in five minutes."

His smile falters as his eyes widen; you remember his schedule? He ran late for a lecture yesterday, but he’s in disbelief that you reminded him today. "Th-Thanks," he breathes as he packs up his belongings before giving you a curt, shy nod. His heart pounds when he walks away, and he resists the urge to look back at you.

It's a good idea, because that's when Jungkook settles down on his former seat.

"I'm thinking you might be forgetting who you belong to," he starts as he gets comfortable on the stiff chair. You instantly smile at his appearance.

"No, I'm very well aware of it." Your tone is high-pitched in excitement.

"It wasn't a question."

"Oh..."

“You talk more than you work,” he observes with a quirk of his brow. “One would think another nerd would be a better influence on you.”

“I work at night,” you defend worriedly, “I promise I’m not slacking off. Can I get a kiss please?”

You’re so adorable when you’re needy. He hides a smirk with a bite of his lip; he thrives from your loyalty to him, but he knows Jimin is a threat to it. He wants you to stop talking to that freak, and he justifies it as a concern for his grades. “I’ll kiss you when you’re not procrastinating. Do you think you deserve even a pat on the head?”

“I do! I’m halfway done with the research paper, please Jungkook,” you beg pathetically, “I-I’ll show it to you, I have it with me right now.” You start unzipping the case of your laptop until he holds up a hand for you to stop.

“You’re going to read it to me, but not here.”

When he stands up, so do you in a haste. He leaves the cafeteria with you hot on his tail, almost jogging when his strides are much bigger compared to yours. You resemble a clueless lamb following a lion, desperate to hold his claws with your hooves. You don’t know where he’s leading you as you walk down the halls until you stop in front of a door. You’re about to freak out when he swings open the door, but you realize the lecture room is empty.

“You want me to read here?” you inquire meekly. It’s a little intimidating to do it in complete silence, because you have a tendency to stutter when reading out loud and you don’t want to embarrass yourself in front of Jungkook where no one can talk over you. 

“Yup.” He snatches your laptop case from your hand with the handle, and roughly opens it before placing the device on the front row wooden desk. It’s a large hall, and the desks stretch out to the half of the room. You’re feeling stage fright for no particular reason; it feels like reverse claustrophobia. “Open the document and give me your phone.”

You don’t question him and hand in your phone before going through your files on the laptop. Jungkook is looking through your contacts and grins when he finds himself saved as: the love of my life ♡. Jimin is saved by his name, and he finds his WhatsApp through his information below. Once he opens your empty chat with him, he switches to your camera and pushes your back so you’re bent over the desk. You sharply inhale and ask, “Kook?” 

“Don’t get distracted now,” he lightly scolds and starts pulling down your pants. You stopped wearing skirts after the incident a week ago to appease him. You stammer with your back arched, and your ass is on full display for him. It’s humiliating. “Start reading.”

“H-Humans are- Jungkook?” you warily look back at Jungkook when he slides the slit of your panties to the side.

“Are you slacking off?” he condescends. 

You bite your lip anxiously and continue reading, “Humans are social animals that n-need social interaction,” Jungkook spits in his hand, “the extent of our social relationships is the most important predictor of h-happiness.” You squeal when you feel wet fingers graze your folds, but you know better than to stop and ask what he’s doing.

“Continue,” he coaxes softly as he brushes his fingertips over your pussy lips. 

“Um, o-one of the main reasons our brains have developed the way they have is so that we can be social,” you speak between shaky breaths. Your cheeks are tinted crimson with embarrassment from his touches; why is he pleasuring you when he specifically told you, you didn’t deserve any? “Being happy a-all of the time is neither possible nor desirable.”

“Is it now?” He slips a finger in your cunt and you involuntarily let out a cry as you push your body forward. You don’t notice him holding up your phone behind you while slowly sliding his finger in and out of you. His saliva is mixing with your arousal as you answer in a gasp, “Yes.”

“Tell me why.”

“B-Because negative feelings are natural. When it comes to negative feelings, the most important thing to remember is to learn,” you pause to exhale with quivering lips, “to control certain potentially harmful thoughts.” You whine his name when another finger is added to your heat. You’re moving your hips back and forth until he slaps your wet folds as a warning. “Sorry,” you peep and continue in a breath, “Happiness all of the time entails epistemic irrationality.”

It’s difficult to keep your eyes open when you just want to indulge in his thrusts, but you’re encouraged to stop reading when he doesn’t comment on your moans. His pace is quickening and you chase his fingers with your hips, cum dripping down his wrist as you mewl.  

“You enjoying yourself, whore?”

You nod and whimper, “So much.” You’re clutching the edge of the desk as he fingers you with fervor.

“And you're my girl?” 

“Yes, all yours, I love you so much,” you pant, not stopping for a moment to question his words. He has a full view of your sopping wet cunt on the camera, and he lightly blows on you, making you shiver. He’s recording you confess your love for him while getting fingered.

“Only me?” he presses.

“Only you, Jungkook, I love you more than anything,” you slur as you start to feel a knot in your stomach.

“Then pee.”

“Wh-What?”

“Touch your clit and pee.” He removes his fingers from your clenching hole and takes a step back. “Prove your love to me.”

You mourn the loss of his hand while staring wide-eyed at the floor. You’re contemplating his demand as your hand slowly reaches down to your clit. Is he asking you to squirt? Your breathing is shallow as you near your climax, and you still don’t know if you’ll go through with his requirement.

It drips out in tiny drops as you come undone, moaning as clear liquid spills out of you for only a few seconds. 

“Good girl, my good little girl,” Jungkook whispers as he intently watches you humiliate yourself in the name of love. You’re twitching and trembling in shame when he stops recording you and sends it to Jimin without a second’s waste. “Are you okay, baby?”

You hum with a pout as you collect yourself by standing up straight, a sway in your posture. 

“Give me your panties, you’ve made a mess on the floor,” he chastises as he holds out a hand. You slip and step out of them before giving it to him. In return, he passes your phone before feigning a gasp, “Shit, I think I sent Jimin a video of you when I was trying to forward it to my phone.”

Your mouth falls open as heat consumes your entire being. “H-Huh?” Tears brim in your eyes almost instantly; your heart is pounding from anxiety.

“How will you ever look at him now,” he empathizes with a fake frown. “He must think of you as such a slut now.”

“Let me delete it,” you panic as you open your phone. “Wh-Where is it?”

He motions you to give him the phone and opens WhatsApp after. “He’s already seen it.” There are two blue ticks under the message.

“No, no, no,” you pull your hair in agony with a whimper. You quickly put your pants back on and cry as you do so.

“I guess that’s the end of your friendship,” he raises his eyebrows to himself without a hint of sympathy.

“What do I do?!” you wail and fling your hands in stress.

“Avoid him. I’ll make sure he won’t leak it.”

He steps forward to lean in your face intimidatingly. “And don’t talk to him ever again.”

You don’t exactly have a choice now, do you? 

[fanmoose12]

As all horrible things do, it starts out with a peaceful moment.

The day, when it begins, is humid and hot, the promise of storm is prominent in the air.

But for now, it's just a promise, and Levi allows himself not to worry. The large tree hides him in its shadow, the grass providing a soft pillow for his body, and Hange is pressed against him, her fingers writing the secrets of universe on his skin.

She murmurs something to him, too soft for Levi to catch. He means to ask her to repeat it, but then his eyes meet hers, and the honey brown of her irises entrances him so much that everything else flies out of his head. He thinks of making love to her right there and then, with the sun as their witness. That douche Apollo would certainly like it...

His lewd plans must have reflected on his face, because Hange shakes her head and tuts, "Levi, Levi... You don't listen to me. What if I was going to say something important?"

"Everything you say is important."

It slips out of his lips unprompted, unexpected. Levi blames in on the sun. Apollo, that deceiving bastard, must have loosen his tongue.

Hange widens her eyes and her mouth falls open in an expression of pure wonder as though Levi has done something incredible.

"Oh, Levi," she whispers, her voice softer than the wind.

She props herself on her elbows to raise up and get closer to him. There is a smile on her face, one that tells him that Hange is going to kiss him. One that promises that the kiss is going to be full of passion, sweetness and love.

Hange hovers just above him, only inches separating their lips. Levi waits for her to shorten that distance, and just before Hange does...

Someone behind them clears their throat. Levi and Hange abruptly turn around, staring at their intruder. Due to the scorching sun and the promise of that kiss that haven't been fulfilled, it takes Levi a long moment to recognise who has disturbed them.

As soon as he does, he hurries to hide Hange behind his back, protecting her with his body.

The god's messenger - Hermes - laughs and takes a step forward. Levi tenses, pushing Hange back just a little further. He doesn't trust gods, never did. And he has a damn good reason for that.

The messenger stays silent for a lengthy moment, and Levi starts to hope - maybe, it's just a mistake. Maybe, he'll leave them alone. The hope grows and grows until-

Until Hange opens her mouth.

"Did Apollo get jealous of our quiet afternoon? Does he wish to join?"

The joke is ill-timed, ill-advised and all around terrible. Levi should have scolded Hange. Instead he snorts alongside her.

Hermes doesn't bat an eye. He doesn't even glance at Hange, as though Levi is the only one here. Perhaps he should feel relieved that Hange is supposedly sparred from god's anger for one deed or another. However, he feels a slight irritation at the apparent disregard for her person.

"Levi," the god speaks. "You have been summoned to the Mount Olympus. Come with me and I'll take you there."

The words spoken surprise him, but Levi doesn't let it show on his face.

"No," he says resolutely. "I have no business with gods."

"You have now."

Something in Levi snaps at the indifferent tone of the messenger's voice. He means to raise up, to come closer to him, but Hange holds him back, her touch both reassuring and calming.

"What do you want from Levi?" she asks, and Hermes shoots her nothing more than a quick, uninterested glance.

"It doesn't concern you."

Levi's anger boils to a frightening point. God or no god, Levi won't let anyone treat Hange like that.

"Whatever concerns me, concerns Hange too. So answer her question, or leave and don't come back."

"And why did I even bother..." Hermes mutters.

He raises his hand, snaps his finger and- and Levi starts falling.

When he opens his eyes, the peaceful afternoon, the scorching sun, Hange's warm body - it's all gone. What he has now is a cold, marble floor and dozen pairs of eyes staring down at him from giant, grand thrones.

Instinctively, he reaches out for Hange only to find that both of his hands are bound.

"Hange-" everything else dies on his tongue, when he sees Hange with two men restraining her. Levi furiously fights against his bounds, desperate to get to her, to make sure she is safe and unharmed.

Hange meets his eyes and shakes her head. Calm down, I'm fine, her gaze tells him, don't do anything stupid.

Levi wants to do something stupid so badly, he wants to free himself and hurt those who dared to lay hands on his Hange. He wants to unleash his anger and destroy everything and everyone here, leaving nothing behind.

But it's not a shady tavern, Levi reminds himself. It's a Pantheon, and one should never anger gods. It was the first lesson Levi's childhood taught him.

That lesson is the one he would never forget, so more for Hange's sake than his own, he forces himself to forget about his anger. He turns to look straight ahead and nearly chokes as he comes face to face with him.

He saw that man only twice in his life, back when he was no more than a skinny brat. Levi thought him a mere human back then, not an almighty god, the king of kings.

He didn't change since since then - the same lushious brown hair, the same piercing green eyes, the same infuriating smirk.

All this time Levi thought that the man who killed his mother was a wealthy merchant or an influential politician. A powerful, yet simple mortal. Turns out, his mother's murderer is Zeus himself.

But reverence before god's might and fear of their punishment doesn't ease Levi's anger. The desire to hurt the man in front of him only grows.

"Kneel," someone behind him urges, but Levi only raises his chin in defiance. He would rather visit the Underworld and stay there than kneel before that scum.

"Kneel," they demand again. Levi stays unmoving. He stares at his so called father with all fury in the world. If Zeus is really his his father, if he is really a son of the king of gods himself, then if he glares hard enough, maybe, the bastard will go up in flames. Maybe, the lightining will strike him or-

The pained grunt interrupts Levi. He looks to his left to see Hange- his Hange lying on a floor with her face pressed to cold marble and a man standing above her, his foot on her back. Levi wants to rage, wants to kick and scream and tear the man who dared to touch her to pieces.

But it will do him no good. It will do Hange no good, so he surrenders.

He gets down on one knee and bows his head - not in reverence, but to hide his burning eyes.

His father laughs. "Welcome to my palace, son. How do you like it?"

I don't, Levi wants to say, but they have Hange. And her wellbeing is more important than his petty anger.

"It's marvelous, all songs don't do it justice," Hange's voice rings. Levi turns to her with wide eyes, even now, bound and overpowered, she tries to protect him. "Is there a reason you were gracious enough to invite us here, my lord?"

"A fierce one," his father chuckles approvingly. He raises his hand, waves it and Hange starts to scream. "But not very smart. Mortals have no right to speak up in this place."

Levi's vision clouds with specks of violent red. His hands are shaking with anger and rage, he desperately wants to-

Hange catches his eye and subtly shakes her head. I'll be fine, my love, she wordlessly tells him, hush and don't fret.

Levi tries his best to do as Hange says. He raises his head and meets his father's eyes.

"Why did you call me up here?" keeping his voice straight and calm takes a considerate effort, but Levi does his best. For Hange.

"My son," the allfather's voice carries around the large chamber. "I have a job for you. The Titans have risen up in power. They seek to have my place, to take what it's rightfully mine. I need you to destroy them for me."

Destroy... Titans? Even the notion of it was ridiculous. Do gods have no one else that'd be more suited for this job?

"I'm not strong enough for this mission," he says. "Find someone more powerful than me."

"You're my son," Zeus' eyes flash with anger. "There is no one more powerful and skillful than you. You will do this for me, Levi. Or..."

His father shifts his gaze to Hange, a smirk pulling on his lips. "Or I'll do to your lover the same thing I did to your mother. And the child that grows inside her will suffer an even more horrible fate."

A child? Levi's heart falls. He slowly turns to Hange, but she seems just as bewildered by this. She looks down to her stomach, then back up at Levi. Her eyes fill with understanding, and then - they start to fill with rebelious fire. Hange is not afraid, but that feeling has always been unknown to her.

Levi, on the other hand, is afraid. He is terrified for Hange, for their child, but he doesn't let fear get to his head.

If his father insists on him fulfilling this mission, Levi will submit. On his own conditions.

"I see you've already saw the reason," Zeus smiles. "My son, with time you'll realize what an honor I've bestowed upon you. You will be sung about in songs, you will be remembered and praised for the rest of your life."

Levi wants to scoff, as if he desires to have any of it. His only wish is to have a peaceful life with his Hange and their child, without any gods or deities interfering.

"And if you're so worried about succeeding, I'll give you the means to defeat every foe. You'll receive my lightining bolts..."

"No," Levi says. "You will give them to Hange."

His father laughs again. "Until you defeat my enemies, son, your lover stays with me."

A shudder runs through Levi at the thought of leaving Hange behind with him. The memories of his mother's corpse flash through his mind,and straighten his resolve.

"Hange will come with me, or I won't go at all."

The lightening cackles in the air.

"Are you trying to bargain with me, boy? Don't anger me, or your lover..."

"Lift a finger in her direction, and you'll have to look for another child of yours. I may not be able defeat you, father," he spits the word like a curse. "And every other god that will want to stop me, but hurt Hange and I will certainly try. You need me to defeat Titans for you, and I need Hange with me."

Somewhere behind Levi, the lightening strikes, the thunderous ripples reverberating through the marble floor and walls. Levi doesn't flinch.

His father nods, as though he is impressed. "You clearly are my son. you're just as fiery. I wanted to keep your lover safe, but be it as you wish, the mortal will go with you. I should warn you, however, the journey won't be an easy one."

"Hange is strong. And without her, I'm ten times weaker."

Zeus waves his hand at the soldiers that hold Hange. They release her, and Levi instantly reaches out, firmly grasping her hand. Already, he feels that much calmer.

"You have nine moons to finish your mission, my son. If the child of that mortal is born and the nine Titans still don't meet their end, I'll take the child and kill your lover. I'll be watching your journey. And I hope you won't disappoint me."

Levi can barely nod, before the world around him changes again.

He's back in their little garden once more, and as soon as he catches his footing, he pulls Hange to him and holds her in his arms.

He inhales the sweet scent of hers, his whole body trembling. Apologies want to tumble from his mouth, but Hange interrupts his laments with a low laughter.

"So your father is Zeus himself? I should be more careful while making love to you from now on... What if I make you feel so good, you'd start blasting lightening from fingertips?"

It's just like Hange to find a joke in everything. Levi can't help but chuckle along with her.

"Maybe, it'll knock some sense into you..."

"You've knocked me up already, my love," Hange giggles, and Levi wants to kick her. He also wants to bury himself in her embrace and stay there for all eternity.

"That's all you've got to say?" he takes a step back to glance into her sparkling eyes. "What about my father? Aren't you surprised?"

"My love," Hange cups his cheek, leaving a ghost of a kiss on his lips. "Why must I be surprised? I always knew you were special."

***

It takes them a whole month to track the first Titan.

He is huge, bigger that Levi could ever imagine, but he’s also old and barely able to move when they find him.

Levi slices his neck and marvels at how easy it was. Hange runs up to him as soon as the Titan disappears and gives him a kiss that makes him weak in the knees.

She gives him a wide smile when they separate, and Levi smiles right back.

One Titan out of nine is defeated, and Hange didn’t even have to get involved. That gives them more than enough reason to celebrate, and they do it under the stars near the glistering lake.

Hange punctuates every kiss with a sweet praise and soft confession. When Levi is near his peak, she draws back and curves her lips in a tantalizing smirk.

“Careful now, my love,” she teases, while Levi can’t do nothing but huff and grunt at her. “Don’t kill me with your lightening…”

“I won’t if you do the job right,” he shoots back, pulling Hange down for another kiss.

She laughs as he nibbles at her jaw and lets Levi flip them around, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“If I die in your arms, Levi,” she whispers. “I’d shame the gods themselves with my happiness.”

***

Their next victim is harder to defeat. He’s not so big, but he seems younger. When Levi approaches, his blade already drawn, the creature grows mad with rage.

Levi gestures for Hange to stay back, and she does.

Up until the Titan launches his first attack.

Levi docks but not to evade the Titan’s massive arm. Hange starts throwing the lightning bolts they got from Zeus, aiming them with breathtaking precision. The creature roars, as one of the bolts hits him right in his eyes.

“Levi, go!” Hange shouts, and he doesn’t waste another second. He cuts the Titan’s legs and waits for him to fall. When he inevitably does, Levi is already there, right next to his nape. He slashes it without hesitation.

Hange lets out a joyous cry, launching herself on Levi. “We did it, again!” she happily laughs.

“I told you to stay back,” Levi scolds her, but Hange just keeps laughing.

“But, my love, you know me. I hate staying out of action.”

***

That night, when they make love in a small clearing in a dark forest, Hange doesn’t praise him.

Instead, she goes on and on, complimenting herself.

“You’re so lucky, Levi,” she husks as her hands roams his chest. “To have a lover as gifted as me. My aim is as precise as Artemis’, my wits are sharper than Athena’s swords, my beauty can rival Aphrodite’s…”

The gods always listen, and what Hange says will undoubtedly anger them all. But Levi is high on their victory, high on their love, so he doesn’t care about it now.

He throws his head back, when Hange moves her hands from his chest to his stomach and then even lower. He moans when Hange grabs him and whispers, “And your ego is as big as Ares’.”

The pleasure Hange was giving him disappears.

“I am as gifted as gods,” Hange straddles his hips and pins his hands above his head. She licks her lips, her eyes flashing, as she revels in his quiet whimper. “And my punishment can be just as severe…”

Levi is absolutely spent when Hange takes mercy on him. She curls around him, and watches his attempts to catch his breath with a wicked smile.

If this is the kind of punishment he’ll keep receiving, Levi is ready to defy gods every waking moment of his life.

***

"This one is different," Hange whispers in his ear as together they observe the Titan's movements. "The skin is..."

"Weird," Levi finishes for her.

Weird is not colorful enough to describe this Titan. Where the other looked vaguely human-like, this one does not. Its skin is too white and its body too long. The mouth doesn't look normal too.

"Be careful," Hange warns, when Levi pushes himself off the rock they've been leaning against.

"Don't intervene," he shoots back.

Hange grins and doesn't even give him a courtesy of promising to stay out of it. With her trusty bolts, she starts running towards the Titan, an excited cry tearing from her lips. Levi curses andhurries after her.

Together they defeat the Titan in mere minutes, despite its many abnormalities.

Later that evening, they go to the nearest town and buy grapes and bread. Hange demands to buy wine but Levi points to her stomach, and she stops arguing right after that.

Hange isn't showing yet, barely two and a half moons have passed since the child was apparently conceived, but she's been growing moodier with each day and she often complains about the ache in her back.

"That's your fault, Zeus' descendent," she huffs as she tries to get comfortable around him. "You tricked, seduced and dishonored me in the most terrible fashion."

Levi rolls his eyes and doesn't point out that it was Hange who bewitched and seduced him. And she never had any honor or shame to begin with. He just pulls her closer and pops a grape into her mouth. Hange smiles as she tastes the sweet fruit.

"Although I have to admit," she says after she swallows it. "I didn't imagine that Zeus is you father."

"Who did you expect it to be then?"

"Don't know," Hange shrugs. "Hades, maybe? Both of you have the same dark and wicked scowl."

His scowl can get too dark, but it's certainly not wicked... But for now, Levi wants to know something else.

"How did you guess I wasn't mortal?"

"Well," Hange flicks hair out of her face and opens her mouth, asking Levi for another grape. With a sigh, he complies. Hange gives him a grateful smile and continues. "Sometimes you pick up stuff that should be too heavy for you. And sometimes you move too fast for me to follow. But more importantly..."

"Yes?"

"You're too handsome to be a mere mortal. And when you make love to me, it feels absolutely divine..."

Hange laughs and Levi scoffs. He leans closer and kisses her laughter away.

"If there was a god of stupidity, Hange,” he whispers against her lips. “You'd be their child."

***

The fourth Titan they encounter is the strongest one yet.

It's different from all others, its fur covered body and long ears more beast-like than human.

"I don't like that one at all," Hange mutters and Levi silently agrees. Just looking at that Titan makes him wish that he had left Hange back home, where she and their child would be safe.

But Hange isn't at home, and Levi likes to think that she is safer here with him than with his father and the rest of his kind on Mount Olympus.

"Looks like a monkey," he mutters. "A really ugly one," he adds just to make Hange laugh.

"We can't all be beauties like you," she slings an arm over his shoulder and presses a kiss to his cheek. "Good luck, Levi."

Hange means to move away, but Levi doesn't let her. He catches her hand and brings her back to him, pulling her to his chest. Something is wrong with that Titan, something about him... makes his throat constrict with fear.

"Hange," he breathes all air out of his chest and fills it with her sweet scent. He doesn't ask her to stay back, knows it's pointless, but that horrible feeling inside, the fear and almost certainty that something will go wrong... it forces Levi to embrace Hange just a little bit tighter.

"I'll be alright, my love," Hange whispers. "We both will be."

Of course, they will – how could they not? Levi is a son of Zeus, and Hange is brighter and more brilliant than any other mortal or deity.

They will be alright, he keeps repeating it in his head as he starts running to the Titan.

Something is definitely wrong with that Titan, because when Levi approaches, the giant creature smiles. It smiles and then looks away, turning— turning to Hange.

Levi’s heart stops.

The Titan lowers his enormous, clawed hand, and before Levi can move, before Levi can find it in himself to breathe, the beast snatches Hange up in the air.

Levi doesn’t remember what happens next, doesn’t register his next moves. His vision fills up with red and his chest is heavy with rage.

He sees nothing but blood, blood, blood. He is covered in it when the Titan crushes down and Levi catches Hange up in his hands.

He falls to the ground with her, pulling her on top of him. It is only when he hears Hange’s heartbeat, his own finally starts up again.

He breathes in deeply – once, then twice, and when the trembling in his hands ceases, he lowers Hange down and methodically checks her, looking for wounds and injuries.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” she keeps repeating, but she is not. There is a long and deep scratch on her leg and bruises all over her forearms and chest. Her stomach seems unharmed, but Levi still presses his ear to it and prays he hears something there.

“It’s still there,” Hange gently brushes his hair. “It’s still there, I can feel it. We’re alright, my love. All three of us.”

He leaves a tender kiss there and thanks his yet unborn child for being so strong. He then picks Hange up and carries her to the nearby stream. Hange protests and tries to kick him, but Levi just holds her tighter. After what has just happened, after what he’s just felt, he just wants for Hange to be close, needs to feel her warmth and know that she’s still with him.

He cleans her wounds by the stream and dresses every injury with a great deal care.

“Levi?” Hange asks, when later that day they sit by the fire. Levi is curled around Hange, and he kisses her shoulder to tell him he’s listening. “That Titan...”

Levi’s blood boils just at the mention of that beast. His mind flashes with memories of Hange in its arms, there up in the air. For the first time in his life, Levi thanks his unhuman instincts. If he came just a second later…

“I think he was sentient, Levi. Not like an animal, but almost like… almost like human.”

The tone of her voice, the almost defeated notes he can hear in it, Levi doesn’t like where this is going.

“What if they’re not mindless beasts like we’ve been told they are? What if they’re just like us?”

“Hange…” he says, a gentle precaution.

But Hange perseveres. “He didn’t attack you, but decided to go for me. He ignored you, even though you’ve posed a bigger threat, because he recognized that I was your weakness. Animals can’t be so smart. Only humans are.”

Levi sighs. He can’t bring himself to say it out loud yet, but he agrees with Hange. There is something more to the Titans that they’ve been told. There is something more to the Titans that his father has shared.

“The next Titan we meet…” Hange turns to look at him, her eyes pleading. “Can we observe them a bit more? Maybe…”

“Maybe,” Levi echoes. He presses his forehead against Hange’s and promises, “Next time we’ll do it your way.”

***

Hange’s belly grows in the time it takes them to find their next Titan. If situation had been any different, Levi would have been adamant about her staying back, but he promised her they’d get to the bottom of this together.

And he intends to keep that promise until…

Until they locate their target. And realize that they’re dealing with not one, but three Titans.

Images of Hange’s body flying around like a ragdoll still wake him up in the middle of the night with a hoarse scream on his lips, and it was just one Titan. Levi doesn’t want to know what will happen if they’ll fight three of them. He turns to Hange, intent on making her sit this one out, but then Hange points her finger, forcing him to follow its direction.

When he does, Levi sees the three Titans. Who are running in the opposite direction from them.

“Let’s catch up with them!” Hange urges.

Despite carrying a child for almost six moons, Hange gets on a horse surprisingly easy. She waits for Levi to get behind her before spurting the horse in pursuit.

It takes them a better part of an hour to get close to the Titans. When they do, Levi jumps from a horse and starts to approach the giants. He makes sure that his steps are slow and measured, as unthreatening as possible. But just as gets close enough, the Titans turn from defence to offence.

The one in the middle - the one that looks like he's covered in armor - steps forward and raises his arm.

"I don't want to hurt you!" Levi shouts, but this only spurs the creature on.

Before he can crush Levi with his might, Hange jumps right in front of the Titan, her arms spread wide.

"Please, stop!" she yells, frantically moving her arms up and down. "We just want to talk, we mean no harm!"

The Titans exchange looks between each other, before the one with blonde hair nods her head.

"We will listen," she says. "But you have to lay down your weapons first."

Hange grins, looking at Levi with a childish wonder. She grabs his blade and throws it out before approaching the three giants.

"So," she takes her time to study each of them, her grin growing wider and wider. She rubs her hands when she finishes, looking almost feral in her excitement. "I have a plan."

***

Hange's plan is ridiculous, risky and possibly not worth the effort. But Hange charms the Titans with her passionate words, and then turns to Levi with a smile that has charmed him all these years ago. She has all of them convinced in less than an hour.

"If you were humans before, you can be turned back again," Hange says like it's that easy.

"If there is a way to do it, we don't know how," the tallest and largest one replies.

"But if there is someone who knows..." the one with armor around his body begins uncertainly.

The one with a blonde hair sighs. "If there is someone who knows, it can only be her. Give me your map, I'll show you where to find her."

"Well," Hange meets Levi's eyes and winks, absolutely radiant in her briliance. "That's already a start."

***

That her turns out to be another Titan. Unlike the others of her kind, she walks on all fours and looks like an ugly, hairless dog. Her companion is even worse - with large jaw and disproportionate body, he simply looks awful.

"Try to be nice, Levi," Hange chides, when he shares his observation with her. "They're possible allies."

Levi doesn't completely understand what's the point of all of this, but he always trusts Hange, and this time is no exception. He follows her to meet these new Titans.

Surprisingly, they listen to Hange patiently, at least, the one resembling a dog does.

But when Hange finishes, she shakes her head, sadness and remorse reflecting in her giant eyes.

"The curse turned us into this. And we can be turned back only by the person who did this to us."

"And who is it?" Levi asks, although he feels like he already knows an answer.

"Zeus," another Titan replies. "You came to finish what he started, didn't you? I can smell his stench all over you."

"He ordered us to come," Hange agrees, her voice placating. "But we do not wish to follow through with his order. Perhaps, if there was another way..."

"With you on our side..." Titans stare at each other, seemingly holding a silent conversation. Whatever decision they come to, it is in Levi and Hange's favor. "Perhaps, we can truly find another way."

***

It takes them two more moons to formulate their plan.

As they go over details again and again, the sky above them grows heavier and darker, and Levi feels lightening in the air. It's not a storm, not yet, but it is worryingly close enough.

As the weather continues to worsen, Hange's stomach continues to grow. The baby's kicks grow so strong, even Levi can feel them now - he delights in it every time he does.

By the time they're finished with the plan, Hange is already too late in her term. Going without her is out of question, Levi doesn't want to leave her alone and he doesn't wish to do this without his better half. They all agree to wait until the baby is born.

On the day their child feels like it's ready to see the world, the storm starts in earnest. The wind flies around and the sky is completely black with only flashes of lightening illuminating it all.

Hange's screams mix with thunder, and Levi holds her hand throughout it all, trying to soothe her pain with gentle touches and kisses.

When the baby finally arrives, it takes his breath away.

She is absolutely beautiful because she is unmistakably theirs.

Levi smiles when he sees a patch of black hair, and his heart swells, when the baby opens her eyes and he sees the familiar honey brown.

Just as she opens her eyes, she starts screaming and kicking, and Levi thinks 'yes... this is definitely Hange's child.'

They don't have the time to pepper her sweet rosy cheeks with kisses, marvel at her beauty or get tired of her wailing.

The storm grows stronger, and Levi knows that he is waiting.

They put the child in a small crib Levi made just days ago and they tuck her in, stopping just for a second to stare at her in awe.

"Take care of her for us," Hange asks their allies. They all give her a nod and position their large bodies protectively around the crib. "Thank you," she smiles. "We promise to take care of you too."

As soon as these words leave her mouth, the ground below them disappears. Levi takes Hange's hand in his at the very last moment.

He keeps holding it as they return to a marble throne room.

The guards try to separate them just as they did the last time, but Levi doesn't let them. He glares at them defiently and holds Hange close to him.

"My son," his father begins with a false sweetness in his voice. "Your time is up, your child is born. Then why the Titans continue to live?"

"I thought you could help us with that, father. It is your curse that had created them after all. Lift it and their threat will cease to exist."

"It's not what we had agreed upon."

"But it's a much easier way."

Zeus' eyes flash with fury, the lightening dancers around his fingers. "Do you dare to defy me?"

Levi keeps his head raised high, as he stares up at his father. "I'm just offering a different sollution."

"You will pay for that."

"If I will, so will you. The Titans have gathered, there is a small number of them, but they're strong, maybe, strong enough," he glances up at the gods seated on their grand thrones, "than some of you. Do you wish to test if it is true?"

"Insolent boy," his father growls, but Levi knows his anger means nothing.

There are whispers all around him, hushed and concerned. Other gods don't wish to have another war, not if they're not sure that they can win it. And if Zeus doesn't submit, then he risks starting a war even grander that against Titans - a war among gods.

"I will lift the curse," he grits through his teeth.

"And you will leave us alone," Hange adds in a singing voice.

Zeus' glare is impressive, but Levi isn't afraid of it anymore. He knows it can't burn people.

"That's all we wanted to discuss," Levi fails to hide the smugness from his tone. "And now if you excuse us..."

"We have a daughter to return to," Hange finishes.

The gods sigh in relief when a demigod and his mortal disappear from their realm. History has taught them just how much destruction a grieving lover can bring. They thank Tyche for their luck.

***

When Hange and Levi return to their world, they find that the Titans are gone. Instead five humans are waiting for them, gathered around a crib with a wailing baby.

The storm is over and the sun is shining brigthly.

Hange kisses the back of his hand and murmurs, "We did it, my love."

Levi smiles and together, they come to hold their baby girl in their arms.

And like all joyous things, this one starts perfectly.

[elia-de-silentio]

Recap on the Order of the Clocktower, suppositions on the real plan, and predictions on the future of the arc

Well! After months of fights that led to very little and an almost nonstop series of cliffhangers, it seems like finally we're entering the final stage of this arc. And in the last two numbers I noticed ... something doesn't quite add up.

Let's make a brief recap on the Decay of Angels and the newly revealed last part of their plan. So, unlike what initially thought, the last part of their plan wasn't 'mostly terrorist activity', it was a goddamn vampire apocalypse that brought several nations to their knees in a handful of days.

This led the world leaders to decide that Fukuchi's speech of several chapters ago was right on the money, the only thing that can face such a catastrophe is an international army of which he will be given complete control. Moreover, to drive the point home ...

They deem fit to give him this. Another extra powerful weapon in the hands of exactly one person? Who can multiply the strenght of every weapon he's given? With no countermeasure if he gets out of control? What is these people's problem?!

By the way, take a moment to appreciate how Fukuchi got something that allows him to destroy the individual soldier's free will and control all of their actions, something he felt already happened to him and the trauma of which gives him motivation. He doesn't spare a thought on the fact that they will suffer just as much as he did, he can only think of his own pain.

So, Ranpo makes an observation that really shouldn't need a superior intelligence to be made: that with this trick, the Decay of Angels will have its goal served on a silver platter. World domination. Again, take a moment to appreciate how Fukuchi, who expressed anarchist beliefs and just the chapter before gave a neat speech on how politicians who order others around without any risk to themselves suck, coughed up a solution that was even more authocratic. Maybe all the 'you're the hero everyone depends on' talk got a little to his head.

But ... for what I've understood ... this is not the Decay of Angels's plan, this is Fukuchi's plan. If the inconsistences for him can be attributed to hypocrisy, for all the other four people in his group it makes even less sense.

Let's take a look at his four comrades, from the one less likely to subscribe to such a plan to the most likely:

• Bram Stoker: he's literally being threatened with death if he doesn't comply. One of the first things he says is protesting that he swore not to add any more people to his kin, but Fukuchi forces him. Once he complies, he express little interest for whatever is going on around him, everything he wants is a radio to pass the time in his coffin. World domination? Seems like an hard pass for him.

• Sigma. While fanon commonly portrays him as the 'good and cute not-really-a-villain', because he has a sympathetic backstory and shows kindness to the clients and staff of the casino, I'd like to point out that he's actually fairly amoral. He's in there because the Decay offered him a home; it makes sense that he's like that after being abused and aware of his being different from the rest of the world for all of his short life, but he still took part in a terrorist plan. Moreover, he was the one to send the casino's clients against the Hunting Dogs to hinder them - regular civilians against the very best of the army. It was actually Teruko who took upon herself and Tachihara not to harm civilians no matter what; what guarantee did Sigma have that she would have done that? What if she had listened to Tachi instead, who wanted to retaliate? Caring to clients and staff, but only up to a certain point. Even when he gave Atsushi that information, it was because of the latter's kindness towards him, not for some moral reason. Sigma is ultimately out only for himself. But this also means that he isn't really involved in the Decay's grand plan: he wants a home and that's it, tutto il resto fottesega.

• Gogol. Now we're getting a little closer. But not without incurring in another contradiction: Gogol hates restraints and orders, anything that gives a boundary to a human's actions. He detests even internal restraints, given by morality and his own sense of guilt. Why would someone like that partecipate in a plan that strips human beings of their own free will, and traps the world under the control of a lone person? Well, it's just speculation because we haven't seen him in ages, but I think it's part of his tendency to destroy himself in the name of freedom. He kills people to defy his own sense of guilt; he wants to kill Fyodor to destroy his desire to be understood and accepted; he collaborates in Fukuchi's plan to destroy his own beliefs in freedom, the thing that more than anything keeps him chained to a certain course of action. In his debut, he described the Decay of Angels's plan as pure evil and thus worth supporting; it's possible that he wasn't saying that under the common definition of evil, but in his own book, the anathema to Gogol's beliefs.

• Fyodor. Who has already stated a personal, very different goal: to acquire the reality-altering Book and make a world devoid of Ability users. All he needs for thar is wiping out the Ability-based organizations in Yokohama so he'll have a free pass, which is not exactly a small thing, but he doesn't need world domination for what he wants. So, why was he involved in such a plan? Well, this is a point I'll expand more on below.

I've already made another post on how the Decay of Angels are an extremely unlikely group and it's almost surprising they managed to work along enough to make this much damage. It's becoming even more evident now: Fukuchi is the only one really interested in the organization's goal.

The other one who gets closest is Fyodor, who, as we have seen, doesn't really care for that; but he gained what he wanted as an accessory. He wanted to get rid of Ability-users organizations in the city, and now the ADA members can't show themselves without getting attacked by the police, the Port Mafia has most of his top members turned into mindless vampires, and the Special Ability Department is about to be overruled by Fukuchi. Moreover, a Fukuchi with absolute power would be able to hand him the Book. Mission accomplished!

But there is this little detail: the Order of the Clocktower, those with the authority to hand Fukuchi the 'One Order'. There is very little known about them (I'm going from the wikia here): appearently, their purpose is to protect the British royal family, their members are Ability users of a terrific level, and they were responsible for chasing Mimic out of Europe after they gave the order for the attack who labelled them as war criminals in the first place.

Come se questo non li rendesse già infinitamente più cani di quelli che danno il titolo all'opera, in Dead Apple they contact Ango to inform him that, to prevent the spread of Shibusawa's fog, they sent an incineration-Ability user to destroy Yokohama (quickly, native readers of British/European literature! Any suggestion for who this person could be! I could come up with Cecco Angiolieri, Aldo Palazzeschi and Gabriele D'Annunzio, but I really doubt it could be any of them, nobody ever cares about Italian literature besides Dante. Your loss).

So, this can mean two things: either they are in contact with the Japanese government and acted with their agreement, or they have enough power to overrule it. Personally, I think the former is more probable.

Anyways, they aren't irrationally genocidal. Once Atsushi &Co. fix the situation, the attack is called off, even if their leader, Agatha Christie, complains about not having the scent of a burning nation to go with her tea. So, their leader: it's not the first time she shows up in the story.

She appeared all the way back in chapter 12, the same that also introduced Fitzgerald and Fyodor, in a meeting to discuss the failure of the bounty on Atsushi. Which tells us two very important things: first, as the other two were out for the Book, it's highly probable that she's after it as well; secondly, that she works with Fyodor, the very same person who orchestrated the plan that should get the One Order, a weapon under the control of Agatha's organization, in the hands of Fukuchi.

Now, Fukuchi is an interesting one under this point of view, because he wasn't even implied in the Chapter 12 Conference. We have seen that Fyodor likes to keep his fingers in multiple pies when it comes to razing the poor Yokohama to the ground: first he hacked the Moby Dick to make sure it fell; then he helped Shibusawa with the aforementioned fog incident; then he acted with his own organization with the Cannibalism plot; lastly for now, the Decay of Angels. As long as he gets to eliminate the Ability users, he doesn't care who he's working with.

Insomma, è 'na zoccola di nome e di fatto.

But we have also seen that Fyodor isn't above backstabbing his 'colleagues': he ignored the fate of Fitzgerald after he fell and took the opportunity to take the Guild's assets for himself, and he directly killed Shibusawa to turn him in the Singularity and send him to get killed by Atsushi. Note how Shibu got off even worse than Fitz: he wasn't in the Chapter 12 Conference, and it's likely he didn't know about the plan to incinerate Yokohama while Fyodor did, being acquainted with Agatha. It's even possible that was the whole point of his involvement in the operation: give her an excuse to attack, while he got an opportunity to cause the deaths of Ability users on the side.

My point is: you know how Fukuchi was not in the Chapter 12 Conference? And he just put himself in a position where if he is found out, things will have consequences on an international level, now that the Order got involved? And do you also remember how Fyodor mused to himself that he didn't make the perfect plan required by the Decay of Angels, because that would have been boring?

Le mie previsioni per quest'arco sono: Fukuchi è una tigre di cartapesta, e si ritroverà la sua super spada ficcata di prepotenza su per il culo.

A very faithful translation of the above: it is very possible that Fukuchi was set up to fail from the very beginning; or at the very least, Fyodor was keeping his plans with Agatha as backup in the case the Decay of Angels didn't work out .

When the ADA will defeat Fukuchi (because no one of his colleagues will lift a finger to help), they will once again play straight into their enemies's hands. Maybe they will 'officially' remain as dangerous terrorists, and then the Order of the Clocktower will have to intervene against them. Or they will actually rehabilitate themselves, and they will be once again celebrated as heroes while the Hunting Dogs will fall in disgrace - what with their leader being secretly a terrorist leaders, suddenly these very powerful people will become unreliable - and the goverment will make an horrible figure, what with persecuting innocent people while being played like fiddles by the real criminals; surely, this situation will call for someone more reliable to establish order in Japan, such as, perhaps, an intervention from an highly esteemed European Ability organization.

How things will proceed from then on, it's anyone's guess. It is possible that Agatha will use her power to have Dazai and Fedka the Convict released from jail, though why would she do that is up in air. Maybe it would be more convenient for her to leave such an unreliable ally where she can see him, and she has never met Dazai as far as we know, so she probably isn't much interested in him. This is as far as my prediction abilities come.

Thanks to anyone who bothered to read my ramblings!

[your-stoat-stands-unopposed]

Love Lost, Love Found.

Pairing: Leshy x Able (an OC belonging to @justgivemefoodplease)

Warnings: None.

Summary: It isn't like himself to feel lonesome, Leshy insists. (He has still not succeeded in convincing himself of that.)

It isn't like him to feel lonesome, Leshy reminds himself. He is a solitary creature by nature; much like the beasts he presides over, he does not want for much, does not ask for much, does not require the company of people much.

...This is what he tells himself, at least.

This is what he tells himself even as he stands by the door of his cabin, gazing forlorn out into the woods beyond; this is what he tells himself even as his mind is far from the present, dwelling instead in the days when his life wasn't quite so empty.

This is what he tells himself even as memories of one who used to stay with him refuse to leave him be.

His days had been brighter with her around, he couldn't deny it. When she had stayed with him and played his game, he had smiled truly; he had felt a warmth with her that no other had ever managed to draw from him before or since.

He had loved her, it was true. And in those times, he had been sure that the feeling had been a shared one...

But she is gone now. And he cannot afford to be plagued by memories of a sweet past; his duties as a Scrybe will wait for nothing, will wait for no-one, will not wait even for the pain of his own heart.

It isn't like himself to feel lonesome, Leshy insists.

(He has still not succeeded in convincing himself of that.)

------

Days upon days of this mental haunting have driven the Scrybe of Beasts to an undeniable conclusion: he is, in fact, lonely.

It isn't that he's simply lonely: the company of the talkative Prospector, or the laconic Angler, or the crafty Trapper and Trader would never be enough to fill this void in his heart...

No, this void is in the shape of one person alone; this longing can be sated only by her company.

This fear can be calmed solely by knowing that somewhere, somehow, she lives still.

------

Across the length and breadth of the world, many people can remember her, but few people had seen where she'd went. There are only few accounts Leshy has to go on: Rebecha claimed to have seen her wandering to the north, the Angler recalled warning her not to stray into the forest, the Mycologists regaled him with myths and stories of lands beyond their own...

This is all he has to go on.

It will have to be enough.

Stepping onto the boat docked by his cabin, he sets out to the north, in search of any mythical land beyond where maybe, somehow, she might just be waiting somewhere.

------

Perhaps he'll have to trust those strange scientists more often, because as it goes, they weren't wrong: there is an island all the way out here, settled neatly in the midst of the deep sea.

A smile graces the Scrybe's lips as he is met with two graceful deer on the shore, tentatively approaching to inspect his outstretched hand. The trees are full of singing birds, of slithering snakes; so many creatures, both known to him and not, roam the land free and undisturbed...

In his heart, he hopes that if fate has not taken her, she has found herself here: here amongst nature, here where she will be safe.

But he does not dare to hope, yet.

Finding this land does not mean that he has found her.

------

There is a temple atop the highest hill on this island; and the more Leshy had gazed upon it, the more he had been sure he could see something moving up there.

Whether he had been driven forward by fate, or a sense of hopefulness, or his lonesome heart's demands, his steps had taken him up that hill and to that temple.

And at that temple... he found her.

She is tall; taller than he had ever known her to be, rivalling his own height as they stand before one another. Her shape is different, two extra arms adorning her form.

He doesn't know her, at first.

Not until she steps forward, and she reaches for him, and she says his name.

"Leshy...?"

"...Able."

His eyes widen. Every memory of their bright days together seems to flash by his mind at once; the pain of every lonesome day without her company seems to melt away in her presence.

"...Why?" He doesn't mean to sound accusatory; he doesn't mean to allow his voice to tremble. "Why did you leave...? And why... why did you never return?"

Her own eyes are wide and soft, her head shaking slowly. "It wasn't on purpose..." Two hands reach for Leshy's own, her gaze meeting his own. "I wandered too far, and the sea swept me away... When I awoke, I was here, and I was changed; and as hard as I tried... I could not make my way back off the island."

She hadn't wanted to leave... She had tried to make her way back...

And above all else, she is here, and she is breathing, and she is with him...

His heart lurches and warms all at once, sinks and pounds in tandem. She has been alone for so long, just like him; she had been taken away from the place she loved, and when she had wanted to come home, she couldn't...

The Scrybe of Beasts wraps his arms around his beloved challenger; and as she immediately returns the embrace, he feels as though a weight he had tried to pretend was never there has been lifted from his shoulders.

"How I have missed you, my love... How glad I am to hold you once more, how happy I am to see your precious face..."

"I feel the same way, Leshy... It's been so, so long..."

A comfortable silence falls over them, as they hold one another as they had back in those warm and sweet times.

And now that they are together once more, they know... they need never feel lonesome ever again.

[drazavonia]

She will no longer "Embrace Destiny"

Destiny is more often that not a goal or fate one's life is chained to. If destiny is a force of the universe, no one can "control" destiny so to speak. However someone of a higher power, domain or "providence" can change the destiny of one with lesser power, control and/or knowledge (of their own destiny).

Kairi was only four years old when Apprentice Xehanort took her, experimented on her and shipped her off of her world for two purposes apparently:

1) For her "Heart of Pure Light" to resonate with the "key bearer" and lead Xehanort to them.

2) As of Melody of Memory, apparently Apprentice Xehanort also wanted Kairi to arrive in a world of neither light or darkness which could possibly be The Final World. Ironically, this would mean he was successful on both accounts by the end of this game.

However, it's clear up above Kairi is upset and that line of "You're the one who keeps messing with my fate" implies much like how Aqua finally figured out in Kh3/Remind that Xehanort possessed Terra, Kairi will finally find out how and why she was ripped away from her grandma and home of Radiant Garden. Not only that, but it shows us she never really had a choice in how her fate was twisted and manipulated to whichever way the Xehanorts needed at the time:

- Apprentice Xehanort shipping Kairi off to Sora and Riku

- Ansem SOD/Riku sacrificing Destiny Islands causing Kairi's heart to take refuge in Sora's heart.

-Xemnas and Xehanort taking Kairi to crystalize her heart to use as a final gambit to open Kingdom Hearts.

The next lines "If it weren't for you Sora and everyone would be safe...I won't let you walk away" indicate for Sora, her friends and herself, she will no longer allow anyone control over her destiny. She has the strength and determination now to make her own destiny and fight against anyone who messes with her fate again.

This is the reason I can see Kairi getting a new keyblade.

A lot of the main characters' keyblades are symbolic of their hearts and roles within the series, as well as how they've grown and evolved over the course of their journeys.

The most obvious case being Riku.

Riku

Kingdom Key> Soul Eater

The Kingdom Key was originally meant for Riku, as he was the keyblade's chosen. But when he chose to give in to the darkness the keyblade went to Sora instead, and of course Soul Eater was a weapon of darkness given to him by Maleficent to signify his alignment with her.

Soul Eater> Way to Dawn

It's in the name.

But seriously Way to Dawn is a perfect symbol of Riku's journey of acceptance of his darkness and redemption from kh1 to kh2. The keychain is the dark heart on his "Dark Riku" form which signified his complete fall to darkness. But from the keychain upwards we see the "Gazing Eye" encircled by an angel wing and demon wing, symbolizing Riku's decision against alignment with light or darkness. Afterwards majority of the blade is the demon wing from Soul Eater largely because Riku's role within kh2 is him working from the shadows undercover as Ansem and doing his best to distance himself from his friends who walk the path of light. However at the very end, an angel wing meets the large demon wing which is symbolic of us teaming up with Riku finally, as he showcases his mastery of light and darkness alongside Sora and friends.

Way to Dawn> Braveheart

In DDD, Riku materializes Soul Eater and questions his worthiness as a keyblade wielder. He still has doubts but still continues to hold on to his true motivations being to protect Sora. Riku accepts that he can use the power of darkness while standing firmly on the side of light to protect his friends. He no longer needs to find or follow the way to dawn, because by the end of DDD came the Dawn of Riku, a Keyblade Master and Guardian of Light.

And "Braveheart" is pretty simple. Riku found the strength to protect what matters, and it's perfectly symbolized by Riku's sacrifice for Sora.

"I'm ready now, I'm in control now."

Terra and Aqua (technically Ven as well) have never left home by the beginning of BBS and throughout the game they experience trials and tribulations that challenge their friendship and we see by their Keyblades at the end the results of these trials.

Terra

Earthshaker> Ends of the Earth

Strong and powerful, after hearing Riku's motivation for strength being his friends he bestowed upon him the keyblade which reignited his devotion to his friends. This is also symbolized with Lingering Will, as that's the keyblade he's left with. He'll go to the ends of the earth to save his friends and right his wrongs.

Ends of the Earth> Chaos Ripper

Terra's devotion to protect his friends turns into rage against Xehanort for killing Eraqus, taking his home and manipulating him. Allowing darkness to further consume his heart.

Aqua

Rainfell> Stormfall

Aqua's journey mostly consist with things happening around her and to her friends. Aqua being the only master of the three and worried for their safety, Aqua does her best to assume responsibility and watch over them. Much like rain, it was a light and simple task. But Xehanort's manipulations and temptations with both Terra and Ven, increased Aqua's worry and need to have control over her friends to keep them out of danger. Unfortunately certain seeds had already been planted amongst them, causing Aqua's worry and concern to come off as patronizing and distrustful of her friends. This weakened the trust in the bonds they share making her job to protect them even more difficult and adding to the weight of responsibility she carries.

Stormfall> Brightcrest

Terra and Ventus have both lost their hearts to darkness. With Venuts sleeping in Castle Oblivion and Terra taken over by Xehanort, Aqua was their only chance of ever coming back. She was the only one who knew how to find Ventus and the only one left to defeat Xehanort once and for all. She stood tall and was willing to risk it all for her friends, she was their "light in the darkness".

Ventus

Wayward Wind + Lost Memory

Ventus' keyblade is the only one that doesn't evolve or change throughout the game. Instead Lost Memory is gained when Vanitas forces Ventus to remember how he came to be. Ventus gains a newfound acceptance for his fate with this knowledge and only cares if his friends are safe.

Axel/Lea (Dark Rescue)

Flame Liberator

Axel betrayed the organization. Axel did everything he could to keep Roxas and Xion unaware of the truth so they could live in blissful ignorance (or be happy). He saved Sora at the last minute in DDD and made it his mission in KH3 to get Roxas back. He even declared to Saix that he would bring him home as well. His keyblade represents his determination to save and free his friends from a cruel fate.

Destiny's Embrace also tells a story for Kairi, but much like how she got it, the symbolism isn't representative of her personal journey.

- The keychain of Destiny's Embrace is funny enough, a popular fruit. When two people share paopu fruits, their destinies become intertwined.

- The chain, unlike many others is a red thread in knots, most likely representative of the Red String of Destiny. The "Destiny Knot" (pokemon references ftw) is what ties two people together romantically or what ties two destinies together.

- The hilt of the keyblade is the King chess piece. The king in this case referring to Sora (Crown, Throne, Holds his keyblade like King Arthur in artwork). To me this is symbolic of how Kairi has literally held Sora's fate or destiny in her hands at certain points in the series.

• In kh1, Kairi reverts Sora back from a heartless/the darkness after sacrificing himself to restore her heart.

• In khcom, in order for Sora to regain his memories, he has to focus on his "light in the darkness".

• In kh2, it's not until after reading Kairi's letter to him that the Door to Light opens the way for Sora and Riku to return to Destiny Islands in the realm of light.

• In kh3, it's Kairi's light that keeps Sora from fading away within the demon tide and holds him together so he can save the other guardians.

- Surrounding the grip is a heart with half of it having a sea/ocean/wave aesthetic. It could be representative of Kairi's heart and the heart of her nobody counterpart Namine, whose name means wave.

- Half of the heart with the vine extending down the blade is identical to the keychains of Sora's Ultima Weapons in kh1,2,DDD,3.

The crown connects to the heart which belongs to both Kairi and Namine which makes sense because Sora and Kairi together created Namine.

- I'm not sure what the blade symbolizes aside from maybe fire because of her entanglement with Axel (doubt) or more likely the fires of Kairi's determination to improve, so she can stand by Sora and Riku.

- The flowers at the end with "logo" heart of course represents Radiant Garden. I think Nomura always planned to explore Kairi's past at some point especially with how connected it is to Union X, and that Kairi as well her grandma would be the bridge connecting the past and the present.

However, because of kh3 and most likely M.O.M, I think Kairi will quite literally be freed from "Destiny's Embrace", both Xehanort and the keyblade.

Like I said before, a lot of the symbolism for Destiny's Embrace is externally based. Mostly because Kairi never gets the chance to shine nor do we get to see what's going on inside of her head. Some of this is also because of Kairi's reluctance to bring up her past trauma when asked about it.

• Sora is gone, no need to be a plot device/motivation for him. Instead it's the other way around.

• Namine is her own person now.

• Melody of Memory will finally tackle and resolve Kairi's past.

Everything Destiny's Embrace represents will be resolved by the end of Melody of Memory. So just like how Riku completed his Darkness character arc by the end of DDD and got Way to Dawn replaced by Braveheart as a symbol of his newfound growth, either by the end of M.O.M or in KH4 Kairi will be rid off all of the things holding her character back from truly growing on a narrative and meta level and the keyblade that symbolizes all of those things:

Destiny's Embrace

*This is the other part of the Melody of Memory sticker post.

(Credit to Hartmann-lionhart for their Destiny's Embrace/Ultima Weapon Analysis)

[ikemensweetheart]

Fireflies Chapter 2

---------

You grew up next door to the Clemance brothers.

You would consider Jonah your best friend and there was something more between you and Luka.

Some time after Luka leaves Red Territory,  you find yourself trapped in an arranged marriage.

Desperate to escape, you follow his example.

There, fate brings you back together.

But how will this love story play out?

Chapter 1

The sun rose bright and clear over Cradle the next morning. Birds sang from the trees as the Black Army began to stir in its barracks.

Ray was the one to emerge from his room. Yawning as he stretched.

"Sneak Attack!" Fenrir jumps Ray from behind, clinging to his back. Fast as lightning, Ray flips Fenrir off his back and onto the floor with a thump!

"Ouch."

"You're going to have to do better than that." Ray says laughing.

"Isn't it a little too early to be roughhousing?" Seth asks as he and Sirius walk past. "Morning." Both the King and Ace reply. 

"If you two keep that up, you're going to be late for breakfast." Sirius adds.

Ray and Fenrir jump to their feet and join the other officers as they make their way to the lounge.

The rest of the army were gathering there, where a hearty breakfast was piping hot and ready for them as they trickled in.

Luka was already there setting the last dish on the table.

"Breakfast looks good today, Luka." Ray says as he sits down.

"Yeah, I can't wait to chow down!" Fenrir adds. "Thanks." Luka murmurs softly as he takes his own seat. He had been up before dawn making the food and it always made him happy to see everyone excited over the fruits of his labor.

As soon as Ray gives the order, everyone starts eating. Talking and chatting among themselves as they eat, but food is the last thing on Luka's mind.

He wanted to see you again, but he didn't want to be a bother. Maybe he could get you a late housewarming gift, but he hadn't been in your house to know what you still needed.

A book maybe? You had always loved reading, but you worked at a booklender, so you could be any book you wanted there.

Luka's quiet sigh didn't go unnoticed. Seth, who was sitting across the table, set down his fork, leaned in and gave Luka a knowing smile. "So, Luka. How did your date go last night?"

Luka choked in surprise. It took him a moment before he could respond. "It wasn't a date." He said, a blush starting to bloom on his cheeks.

"Oh?" Seth quirked an eyebrow. "The two of you certainly weren't dancing like strangers."

"What's this about a date?" Ray asked, looking up from his own food with interest. 

"Luka was walking his girlfriend home last night after dancing with her." Seth explained. 

Ray's eyes widened in surprise."You were dancing with someone, Luka?"

"What was her name again?" Seth tapped his chin thoughtfully.  "Felicity?"

"I'm pretty sure it was Emily." Fenrir added.

"Her name is MC and she's not my girlfriend." Luka cut in. "We just… Grew up together…" Luka's entire face was scarlet now.

Everyone stared at him in shock.

There was a moment of silence before Seth burst out. "You can't just drop a bomb like that and not give the details! Tell us more!"

"There's nothing to tell. We were neighbors, so we used to play time together as kids, that's it." Luka quickly stood up. Gathering up his plate and utensils, he started making his way to the kitchen. "I'm going to go start the dishes." He declared as he left.

Sirius, after having not said a word during the entire conversation, finally spoke. "I'm going to go help." He got to his feet with his own dishes in hand and followed Luka to the kitchen.

"Dang." Fenrir murmured, sticking a forkful of hash browns in his mouth. "He's got it bad."

"Fenrir." Seth said, softly as he leaned back in his chair.. "I do believe an intervention is necessary." 

*****

"Achoo!" Your sneeze seems excessively loud in the quiet shop.

"Oh dear. You're not getting sick, are you, MC?" An elderly man said as he emerged from among the bookshelves.

"I certainly hope not, Mr. Callahan." You reply, smiling at your boss. 

Mr. Callahan has been kind enough to offer you a job even though you were inexperienced in work as a whole after you had been turned away by other business owners in the area.

He had even directed you to the old cottage you were now living in.

Mr. Callahan studies you for a moment. "Are you alright, MC? You seem distracted today."

"I'm fine." You tell him. "There's nothing to worry about."

"You put an astronomy book in the children's section." He counters. Your eyes widen. "Oh. That." You blush a little. "Okay, maybe I'm a little distracted." You confess. "I ran into a childhood friend last night at the dance and I may have been reminiscing a little."

"Oh?" Mr. Callahan joined you at the counter. "Tell me more about this friend?"

"We used to be neighbors." You tell him. A smile on your face. "We used to go over to each others' homes all the time to play.

"He was a very kind and quiet person, not like some of the other children where we grew up. He had an older brother who was always doting on him. It was funny to watch."

You let out a sigh. The light blush on your cheeks grew. "I haven't seen him since he left for boarding school. He's even more handsome than he was then…" You trail off, gazing out the front window, dreamy look on your face. Mr. Callahan's chuckle snaps you out of your thoughts. A blush creeps into your cheeks. "I guess I've got it bad, don't I?"

"It would seem that way." Mr. Callahan agrees.

He then glanced over at the grandmother clock in the corner. "It's getting late, you can head home. I'll close up shop." 

"Are you sure?" You ask. "I'm sure." Mr. Callahan nods. 

"Okay. I'll see you tomorrow, I guess." You grab your purse from under the counter.

"Oh, before you go, my wife wanted me to give this to you." Mr. Callahan disappeared into the back room and came back with a covered basket. "Aw. Tell her I said thank you." You say with a smile as you accept the basket. Knowing Mrs. Callahan, she had packed it full of delicious food.

"Get home safe. Alright?" 

"I will. Have a good evening Mr. Callahan." You call as you open the door. 

With the basket in one arm and your bag in the other, you set off down the street.

It was late afternoon, so you still had plenty of time to get home before dark. There was also a crowd of people on the street. Going about their day, shopping, and chatting with friends and neighbors as they passed on the street.

As you walked, you mind wandered back to your childhood. Remembering the adventures you used to have when you played with Luka.

You would always play the fair princess, Luka would be the dashing prince. The two of you would sneak into the kitchen, pilfering snacks under the staff's nose, pretending you were talking back a stolen treasure from a ferocious dragon.

Though, now that you thought of it, maybe you hadn't been as sneaky as you believed yourselves to be.

The two of you had also made blanket fortresses in the library, spending rainy days curled up with books.

Lost in thought, you hadn't noticed the breeze had brought in dark rain clouds. 

It wasn't until the first drops hitting your skin that you looked up. The streets had cleared at the imposing weather.

The sprinkle quickly became a deluge. You ran for the nearest awning. 

You manage to get to safety without incident. You quickly check the contents of your basket to make sure the food hasn't gotten wet.

To your relief, it hadn't.

You sigh. Now all you could do was wait out the rain.

As you stood there, you saw a familiar figure running through the rain. "Luka? Luka!" You call out to him. "Over here!" He quickly runs over and joins you under the awning, wet and panting.

You had always thought of him as your prince when you were kids, now, standing there even though his dark hair damp and water dripping down his porcelain skin, he looked as handsome as a prince.

Your face warmed a little at the thought.

"What are you doing out in this weather?" You ask.

Luka's honey gold eyes turned toward you. "I was, um, doing a favor for another officer." He replies, hefting the small package under his arm.

"Ah." You say softly. 

"What about you?" He inquires. "I just finished work and was on my way home." You tell him.

The two of you fell silent, the only sound between you was the rain. Not that you minded, you never had. It was one of the many things you liked about Luka, that you could just sit together without the need for conversation. Not like some of the other children your parents would make you play with. It had always been a fight with them on what to play, but with Luka, you took turns. It was always refreshing.

"I'm going to go find an umbrella." Luka spoke suddenly. You look up at him in surprise. "No, you don't have to. You're already soaked." You tell him. "It's fine." He reassures you with a smile. Your heart flutters. "Here, would you hold this for me?' He asks as he hands the package to you.

You take the package and he steps out from under the awning and into the rain.

Once again, the only sound you hear is the sound of the rain. It had been raining the day Luka had left for boarding school too.. And didn't come back.

You quickly shake your head clear of the thought. Don't be ridiculous. You chide yourself. Of course he'll be back.

As if on cue, Luka did return. This time with an umbrella in hand. "I'm back." He says, holding up the umbrella for you. 

He looks even more handsome with the gentlemanly gesture. Your heart flutters and your cheeks grow warm.

"Thanks." You murmur as you step out from the awning and under the umbrella.

After adjusting your hold on both Luka's package and your basket, the two of you start walking.

You walk in companionable silence.

Before long you leave the Central Quarter and its cobblestone streets behind, heading into the quiet countryside.

"Watch your step." Luka says, slipping his free arm around your waist to guide you away from a puddle.

Your eyes widen and heart skips a beat. He had never done something like that before. You glance up in his direction. He was blushing. "Sorry, I-I just didn't want you to get your skirts muddy."

You smile at him. "It's fine. Thank you." That causes him to blush even harder.

He was so cute when he got like that. You couldn't help but giggle a little bit. That caused Luka to turn away, his entire face turning red.

You bit your lip, trying hard not to burst out laughing. 

Before long, you were at the field where you had seen the fireflies last night.

You smile as you remember the breathtaking scene.

The two of you continue on to your cottage. At the gate, you ask. "Would you like to come in?" You were hoping to at least get a warm cup of tea in Luka. He looked chilled to the bone. "I don't want to impose." He tries to decline. "It's fine." You insist. "It's the least I can do to thank you. Please." You give him puppy dog eyes, he had never been able to resist those.

He finally gives a relenting sigh. "Okay." You break out grinning and lead the way up to the front door.

"Welcome to my humble home." You say as you open the door.

The decor was sparse and simply. It had been completely empty when you had moved in, but you were slowly adding to it with each payday.

You grab a towel from the bathroom and hand it to Luka before leading the way to the kitchen. You set your basket and Luka's package on the little table and talk over to the stove. "Have a seat and help yourself to what's in the basket." You tell Luka as you fill the kettle and set it on the stove to boil.

Luka meanwhile took a peek into the basket. He found a variety of food in the basket. He then looked around the kitchen, noting how much more empty it was from what else he had seen of your cottage.

"MC…" He said slowly. "Do you… still not know how to cook?"

You stop what you're doing. "Um, no." You say, your cheeks growing red with embarrassment.

You knew how to make tea, but you were never taught how to cook. Your parents wouldn't let you and you hadn't found someone to teach you since you came to Black Territory.

You could do tea at least, part of being a 'proper lady', but that was it.

"Would you… like lessons?" Luka asked. 

You turn to Luka in surprise. "You mean it?" You ask. Luka was the best cook you had ever known. To have him offer to teach you how to cook would be fantastic.

"Yeah." He replies softly, giving you a gentle smile. "I'm off this Saturday." He explains.

You discuss plans as you finish with the tea and set it on the table.

As you two continue talking, the rain outside clears to reveal a vibrant golden sunset.

"I'll see you Saturday!" You tell Luka as you see him to the door. "Yeah." Luka says, tucking the package Seth had asked him to pick up. 

He sets out down the path as the last rays of daylight vanish behind the horizon.

As he goes past the field the fireflies are starting to emerge. He smiles as he thinks of the look of wonder on your face as you watch the little bugs.

With a pep in his step, he continues walking off into the night.

-----

Stay safe everyone!

If you liked this, please reblog.

Requests are open.

[wheredostarsgowhenyoudie]

You'd never know what day your life would change. It could be today or tomorrow. It could be a day when the sun reigns in the sky or a day when stormy clouds rule. It could be a day you're happy or a day you're down. No one could tell. But when it happens, you'll know it, because suddenly everything is different and nothing will ever be the same again.

The day it happened, Merlin still wasn't convinced that Arthur wasn't lying when he told him he acknowledges that he has magic and that it doesn't change the fact that he's still an idiot.

The warlock wanted to believe him. He really does. But when one had been living in the shadows of lies, deceit and fear for as long as he had, it couldn't be harder to step into the light and accept that it was real.

Merlin hated that he couldn't be fully at ease with Arthur and the knights. He hated seeing the hurt in the prince's eyes every time he would wince when the royal would draw a sword or prepare to give an order. Merlin also noticed that the knights had been taking turns, keeping him company on his chores and going out of their way to ask him questions to learn more about his magic.

Merlin wasn't oblivious to their intentions. He knew that his friends were doing it to show him that it's alright to be himself around them. But as much as he appreciates their effort, try as he might, he still just couldn't erase the nagging fear at the back of his mind that Arthur would change his mind and decide that burning at the stake is where he belongs and that the knights would agree with him.

The worst part was that even if they do, Merlin would only understand their choice. They had been breaking the law by lying to Uther just to save his head. While Gwaine had no qualms deceiving the king, he knew the rest of the knights had their apprehensions. And Arthur, well it was him that Merlin feels most sorry to. What kind of friend does it make him if Arthur had to lie to his own father to protect him?

There's no question that Merlin couldn't have picked better friends. But what does that make him? For someone who has his secret out in the open, Merlin still doesn't feel free. Sometimes, he even finds himself believing that maybe he will never be.

It might just be so that for all the trials and tribulations magic had brought into his life, in the end, it will still be the one constant he can rely on.

Merlin barely managed to catch his breath on his way to Gaius' chambers when Gwen came running to him.

"Gwen?" he asks, instantly worried for the first friend he made in Camelot. "What's going on?"

"It's Arthur, Merlin!" Gwen answered. "Uther sent him and the knights to search what's causing the villagers' fright in the Forest of Merendra. Arthur sent me to inform you to take the shortcut and bring food and extra towels."

Merlin frowned. "When was this?"

"Just right after you left. They wanted to wait for you but Uther was insistent, and they couldn't tarry, else, Uther would be suspicious."

"I know that," said Merlin, knowing she was trying to assure him that they didn't leave him by choice. "I'll catch up with them. It should be no problem."

"Good," Gwen smiled before taking off the satchel strapped on her shoulder and handing it to him. "I prepared everything you might need. Now all you have to do is get a horse and leave." Then, taking the basket from him, she added, "As for the herbs, let me deliver them to Gaius. I'm sure he won't mind."

Merlin beamed, amused at her preparedness. "Thanks Gwen. I owe you," he expressed, clutching the supplies to his chest and running past her and into the stables. "And please tell Gaius I've gone after the prat!"

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

Arthur couldn't believe his eyes when he saw the body lying still in the middle of the forest. He took a quick scan around the area just to see if they were being watched. It was a pity he got separated from the knights.

His own experiences with magical creatures had taught him to be wary, but he couldn't for the life of him, abandon the knight's code and turn away from a potential damsel in distress. And somehow, even if he wasn't willing to believe it at first, knowing that his idiot of a best friend has magic and could find him wherever he was, was a reassurance of its own kind. Not that he'll ever admit it to Merlin. The idiot would never let him hear the end of it if he does.

But just in case, he unsheathed Excalibur and prepared for an attack.

Carefully, he turned her so he could see her face.

"A princess?" he gasps, eyes instantly drawn on the silver tiara on her head. He had never seen anything like the pale blue dress she was wearing.

Arthur quickly reached a finger under her nose to see if she's still breathing. He couldn't help but worry what her presence here would mean if his assumptions were right.

To his relief, he had barely lifted her when she began to stir. He watched as chocolate brown eyes slowly blinked into awareness.

Gently, he helped her to sit up, making sure to support her back to keep her steady. The feel of his gloved hand on her back must have done the trick and she shrieked, jumping in fright of him. He would have laughed if she didn't look so scared.

"Oh, dear Merlin!" she exclaimed.

Arthur frowned. "You know my manservant?"

"Ahm," she started to say, and he easily caught onto her confusion.

"Forgive me, please," Arthur quickly apologized, making sure to step away to assure her that he meant her no harm. "My name is Arthur. I mean no threat to you, my lady, but I found you unconscious in the middle of Forest of Merendra. Tell me, where are you from? Do you remember how you got here?"

"Forest of-" she trailed, and he waited patiently as she finally seemed to absorb her surroundings. Her eyes widened in shock and she gasped, raising a hand to her forehead. "Oh, Hermione, what have you done now?"

"Hermione?" Arthur's face brightened. "Is that what they call you? What kingdom are you from?"

"I-…" she bit her lip in thought. "I'm sorry. Who did you say you are again?"

"Arthur. Arthur Pendragon, at your service," he reintroduced, waiting for recognition to dawn on her.

He didn't expect amused laughter to be her reaction. "Seriously, where are we? Is this some kind of a theme party? Are you in cosplay? Is that it? Well, I certainly can't remember drinking enough for this," she rambled. "Wait, I must be dreaming! That's it, isn't it? I'm dreaming, or I must be under a spell…A pensieve? But I don't remember…"

The prince listened to her patiently, mentally taking note of the words in her rant that he finds unfamiliar. Eventually, she stopped on her own and turned to him.

"Let's try that again, shall we?" she suggested. "Where are we?"

Arthur sighed but had no choice but to acquiesce. She still hasn't confirmed who she is and what she's doing dressed so thinly in this cold, or why she doesn't seem too worried at the thought that she might be under a spell. "We're in the Forest of Merendra in the Kingdom of Essetir. We're miles away from Camelot."

At this, her eyes widened and she pulled away from him. "Camelot?" Then, sounding fearful now, she asked. "And you're telling me you're King Arthur? As in THE King Arthur? Are you messing with me?"

"Well, no, it is my father, Uther, that is king. I'm only a prince. But I don't understand why you find this so hard to believe. Surely, you've heard of Camelot?"

She didn't get to answer though as the roars of the linen wrapped beasts finally caught up to him. Quickly, he helped her get to her feet and readied to defend.

"Well if you're Arthur, then what are they?" she asks, mystified. He couldn't help but wonder if she'd hit her head real hard that she still thinks she's dreaming.

But the pondering would have to wait as the creatures began to surround them.

'Anytime now would be great, Merlin.' He thought before he answered her.

"They're soulless animals' corpses being controlled by a sorceress."

"So they're dead? Like mummies?"

"You need to get behind me," he instructed, eyes at the beasts, only to startle when she stepped right beside him instead.

"How do we fight them?"

Arthur's first instinct was to tell her off for foolish bravery but one look at the advancing beasts told him there was no time for that. She at least needs to know what they're up against. "Fire, we need to burn them. But normal fire isn't enough. We need to-"

"It isn't working!" she was screaming before he could even register that she was holding a stick and one of the walking dead beasts was suddenly set ablaze.

"How did you?" he asked, before realization dawned on him and he turned to her in disbelief. "You're a sorceress!" he accused just as a lion jumped at him and he dodged, seeing her do the same in the corner of his eyes.

"What?" The girl, Hermione, scoffed, looking very much offended. "Flipendo!" she screamed before a light shot out of her stick and hit a tiger in the chest. "No, I'm a witch! Now, quickly tell me how to defeat them! Normal fire isn't working."

Arthur fought a headache from coming. Fate must be punishing him for treating his manservant so cruelly. As if dealing with one Merlin isn't enough…

"They're creatures of magic. The fire must be enchanted to destroy them."

"Of course," she breathed, eyes widening as though she'd just made a wonderful realization. Arthur barely moved his foot before he heard her say, "Stay back and don't move," and then, "FIENDFYRE!"

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Merlin had barely stepped into the forest when he felt it - magic both light and dark and so intensely heavy that he won't be surprised if he could touch it just by reaching out his hand.

He hurried his horse to the source of the screams and light, but nothing could have prepared him to what he saw.

A girl dressed like royalty was standing before a disgruntled Arthur, her arm outstretched and preventing the prince from taking any step farther as they stared down the army of mummified beasts advancing towards them.

His heart all but leaped out of his chest at the sight of the phoenix erupting from her wooden stick.

"ARTHUR!" he yelled.

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The frightened voice sounded very much like his manservant, but the prince couldn't keep his eyes away if he tried, gaping as the fire bird flew to devour the whole beastial army, leaving nothing but ashes on its wake.

He only breathed, alert and mortified when the phoenix started to turn on him. Before he knew it, Merlin had thrown his own weight to push them both out of harm's way and onto the ground, a move they soon found unnecessary when the fire bird released an ear piercing screech before drawing back and disappearing into thin air, leaving their eyes to settle on the lone girl standing in the middle of the devastation.

Legs apart, back straight, eyes ablaze and unrelenting, and with her hair crackling of magic - she looks like the perfect embodiment of an avenging female angel if they'd ever seen one.

No one said a word until she broke the silence.

"Is that enough?" she asked, eying them expectantly. "Are we safe now?"

"Huh," was the prince's unintelligible response, the only one he could manage after seeing what he saw. But he saw her brow lift higher and knew she was awaiting his answer.

"Yes," Arthur finally agreed, "I suppose that will do it." Then turning to the astounded warlock lying on his back beside him, he says, "Merlin, I think she just beat you in the most glamorous display of magic."

"You're-" she started to say, but the use of magic must have drained her and she began to sway.

Arthur hurried to help but Merlin signalled he let him instead, still feeling the lingering trace of unfamiliar magic in the air. It felt like his own and yet so different.

"SIRE!"

"Merlin!"

The voices came from the knights who arrived just in time to see Merlin carry the now unconscious girl in his arms.

"Who is she?" he found himself asking.

"I don't know," Arthur said, sounding as puzzled as he looked, staring at the sleeping damsel. "She seemed lost. She didn't even know who I am and yet, she protected me." Looking at his manservant, he asks, "Is she alright?"

Merlin nodded.

"Merlin, you alright mate?" Gwaine asked, seeing him look so perplexed.

This time, Merlin didn't nod, unsure of it himself.

He just witnessed magic unlike anything he'd ever seen.

But then she stirred on his arms, the tip of her stick accidentally touching his arm and Merlin's breath was caught at the feel of her magic humming and causing his skin to tingle with warmth.

"I think I need to speak with Kilgharrah."

A/N: Chapter 7 up! Read it here at...

[koorinohebi]

@super-kame-love

Continued From:

I am curious: how would you describe Kiomi's relationship with Jiraiya? And with Koji Kashin? What you've shared about them so far seems very interesting and I must know more!

+ + +

Sorry for breaking it into two different posts, Kame-san. The other one felt so long already.

Quick note: IF you haven't read or watched Boruto, this will definitely contain spoilers.

So for this second one, we have...

Kashin Koji

So the main reason I was interested in him was when rumors were floating around that Jiraiya or someone that resembles him is back in Boruto. One look at his design and I was like, yeah. Unmistakably related in one way or another. Lo and behold my friend, lo and behold.

I have 2 verses for Kashin Koji. One is the one where you often see me mention Takeda. That one is an on going RP with @ambitiousparagon, and the other one is a verse where I pen Koji myself. The one with Takeda is still in the works and currently still very unpredictable, so for this instance I'll talk about my own version of Kashin Koji, which actually...more than Kiomi being the main focus, I tend to lean more towards the man himself. This is heavily influenced by headcanons that are based on what I noticed his personality being based on what we know so far.

So when I first encountered Kashin Koji there was hardly anything on him, which is to say, still very true currently. He hasn't been seen in the manga after his crushing defeat against Isshiki, and in the anime, they've given him a voice, and we see how he acts, but ultimately it doesn't differ from what we've already read in the manga (if you or any of the ones reading this have read it).

So Kashin Koji is, despite being quite whimsical, a no nonsense kinda guy. So he is very...well, I wouldn't call it by the book, but as a shinobi, he chooses the most efficient way to carry out the mission, which is...by default, how Amado had initially programed him-- Not as a perfectionist, no, but as Isshiki would say it, Amado's programming of Kashin Koji rode on his maker clinging onto Jiraiya's mighty fate. However, with Jiraiya being the template, it's not a surprise if Koji would inherit the man's sentiments, principles, and even slight eccentricities as a Shinobi (which I believe Amado had predicted and saw as a weakness. He needs and creates tools as he sees fit, and he'll use whatever he can to further his agenda). Amado strives to emulate within Kashin Koji the "star of change" which Jiraiya possessed. As we know, thanks not only to the prophecy, but also due to Jiraiya's diligence in searching for that revolutionary that could change the world, he was able to bring together (in one way or another) three of the most powerful game changers that we have who affected the course of the current History. If they wanted to defeat Isshiki, he needed that kind of trick up his sleeve. Because however, Kashin Koji has imperfections, and someone Jigen had deemed weaker than he is (because Jigen told Amado to dispose of clones more powerful than he was), our good professor faces a setback and thus needs to come up with a new plan (going to the Hokage, and asking them to kill Isshiki instead while having Kashin Koji show them the "ropes" on how it's done).

My take on him stems from this human weakness. Kashin Koji is aware of who he's supposed to be a clone of. We see this when he comments on his fate being tied to Konoha and the like. And admittedly, knowing your predecessor's legacy, not to mention having been able to perfect something that the original couldn't gives him a bit of an ability to brag, and believe that he can be just as great or even greater than Jiraiya.

But the question is how convinced he is of this himself. I do believe that Kashin Koji wants to be a person of his own, and in being the perfect heroic shinobi tool, even if he dies, it wouldn't be for naught so long as he brings down his target (which happens to be the biggest threat since Madara, Tobi, and Kaguya). Believing that Amadao was entrusting the fate of the world in his hands bolstered his confidence. However, when Isshiki pointed out the painful truth of Amado's betrayal and deception, he internally refuses to accept it. That he was just a pawn, and that he'd never break free from being nothing but Jiraiya's shadow. I always felt that if at the baseness of Jiraiya's personality, you have a decent grasp of his shortcomings, regrets, and insecurities, you'll get a good grasp of Kashin Koji too. Although it's just my headcanon (and people dont really have to abide by it), Koji too, is plagued by this ever looming sense of not being good enough, as well as not living up to the name of his original (very much like how Jiraiya felt his accomplishments dont match that of Sandaime or Minato).

So after this long explanation on my take on Kashin Koji, you may ask where Kiomi comes in. Well, she comes in as a form of support.

Just as with Naruto's unreasonable worry, the first time that Kiomi sees Kashin Koji, she's instantly unreasonably bothered by him as well. Worse, when the mask comes off, and she sees his face she is instantly appalled and angry because everything that she's been keeping inside is dragged to the surface. Of course, none of this was Kashin Koji's fault. It was more of Kiomi's own regret, and seeing him was like opening a can of worms for her, reminding her of all the things she wanted to do and say had her teacher been alive. At the same time, she's very irked that someone was running around with his face, because someone had the gall to deliberately make a "knock off" as she calls it, of the man she respects the most.

With this much animosity, one would wonder how Kiomi becomes his support. While Kiomi and Kashin Koji initially dislikes each other, the woman rejects the fact that he's just "some clone", as he is also a person who deserves to live his life as himself regardless of whether he was created as a tool or as a clone. If you remember from my first post about Kiomi and Jiraiya's relationship, this was exactly the same kind of treatment that Jiraiya gave Kiomi when she viewed herself as nothing more than a disposable chess piece. She doesn't say this outright to Kashin Koji though. He learns this on his own. Seeing that someone believed in his own possibilities gave him a little peace of mind, just a little. In effect, this draws his curiosity. Kashin Koji being an Inner of Kara does his assignment pretty well, so he would by effect, know who she was as too. He believed she would be one of those who would constantly see him as a glorified Kagebunshin, but surprisingly she didn't. In fact, seeing as he was who he was, it would make him a perfect replacement, but she didn't treat him like that. This makes him loosen up around her, enough that his usually snide and sarcastic remarks are now laced with a hint of fond teasing. Ironically, she hates it when he does this, as it reminds her of Jiraiya. (Because Jiraiya often teases her about one thing or another.)

One of my favorite interactions of them is probably this one, just because it shows a little bit of both their internal struggles and how they deal with each other.

===

“Tell me,” Instead of standing to leave, he remained seated opposite from her. Kashin Koji removed the mask which barred a portion of his face that she was surely uncomfortable seeing. And he was right. She averted her eyes briefly, before putting up a look of feigned indifference once their optics finally met.

There was relative distress in her features, that much he could tell while staring at her…curiously, seriously. “Do I resemble him? This Jiraiya of yours.”

Looking at him was like staring into a nightmare, a stark reminder of what she could never hope to have. However, she understood his question. They were past simple notions of physicality. It wasn’t just about his face, nor was it about his origin. It was deeper than that. For Kiomi’s alleged simple-mindedness, this concept was not something so hard to grasp. Not when this was the very base of the learnings she had inherited from the mentor she respected the most. Despite Jiraiya and Kashin Koji’s shared similarities, they were still two very different people, each with their own uniqueness. Besides, denying a man his own identity was probably the cruelest judgment any living being could impose on another.

“You don’t.” The answer came simply; however, he did not miss the semblance of melancholy that lingered upon her visage. To him, it felt indicative of disappointment…such fragile and complicated feelings.

“I see.” Kashin Koji had closed his eyes then, satisfied with the answer. In a sense, he felt his lips curve into a smirk. Two words of reassurance; to think that hearing something so simple had such a significant impact. And as for Kiomi who had only seen the man scowl at her existence, this look on his face for the first time caused her chest to ache. Perhaps in her words, she knew not if a lie existed; if only because such an expression looked frighteningly similar to her teacher’s.

“The two of you must have loved each other very dearly.” At this point, he had refocused his gaze upon the female, only to raise a brow shortly after. He had never seen anyone choke on air before. Her flustered features shouldn’t have been anything extraordinary, but it felt amusing. “Was I mistaken?”

“Yes, you’re wrong! You’re very wrong!” She retorted, her flushed face, easily beating the most crimson of fruits. “Everything, this…my…they’re all just…” She tried to calm down as she explained. “…they’re all just…what I’m trying to say is…whatever they are, they’re all just one-sided emotions…” She looked downtrodden. He recalled Naruto saying that their mentor died while she was away figuring out herself, and had carried a burden none of them could share. Jiraiya had meant everything to them, each within varying degrees unknown just how much to the other.

After learning that all of this was one sided, he looked at her with lethargy. “Are you actually an idiot after all?”

“Oi, you actually dare to call me an idiot in my own house? Besides, it’s not like I stood a chance against the person he sought after.” It wasn’t a secret to her after all, that he had his eyes on Lady Tsunade. What chance did she have against someone who had shared in his losses, successes, strife, and victories?

“Was what you felt actually so flimsy that it lost to someone else’s? Did you confirm it with your own mouth?”

The questions that bombarded her, matched with such an unexpected interrogator threw her off. So much that when she had come to her senses, she found herself face to face with Kashin Koji. If she was distraught earlier, then the ante had been upped then and there. Trapped in between his arms, being stared at, it felt horrible and suffocating for many reasons that she convinced herself that she couldn't understand. “Should I teach you just how lofty your feelings are?” He lingered so close, too close for comfort. But that was where she drew the line. Steeling herself, she pulled her head back just enough to give her some room to drive her forehead down against his. THWACK!

Both of them found themselves clutching their heads, one clicked his tongue and the other was cussing up a storm in her mind--and verbally, apparently.

“Don’t you dare mock me—“

She was on the verge of throwing him out, but there he was, laughing, collapsed on the floor as he held onto his forehead. She stifled her annoyance because she remembered how; pranks of the same nature had been done to her, by none other than her favorite mentor. And he would laugh just the same. At least sensei’s were a little more innocent and subtle. “Don’t laugh at me either!” She demanded with childish vigor, kicking him in the shin repeatedly. He fended them off well enough, which added to her irritation.

“That’s enough out of you.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do in my own hou—hou—“ That was to say, if she wasn’t going to stop her assault, then he would have to play along. Grabbing her ankle when she struck, he pulled her over; just enough to make her balance crumble, bringing her down effectively.

“What the actual hell is wrong with you?”

“Even now, you’re struggling to protect what’s important to you. You may be a bit weaker than others, but it doesn’t seem like you’re lacking in persistence and perseverance. What are you so afraid of?”

Again with questions and commentaries that she did not ask for…

Her silence was enough of a response. Regrets, apprehensions, guilt, it was painted on her face. Shaking his head, Kashin Koji came to a stand and dusted himself, thereafter extending a hand for her to take.

“At the very least, come up to the starting line and show that mentor of yours your resolve.”

She begrudgingly looked at the hand that was offered to her. She felt ashamed and annoyed at herself because she knew that his point was valid. He wasn’t wrong, and in fact, he made more sense than she had wanted to admit. With an inward sigh, she took that hand and he helped her to her feet.

“…” Their grasp on each other persisted for a while. There was no warmth there; no comfort of a familiar friend, but there was a firmness that was enough to uproot whatever doubt it was that crept within the confines of her mind. She wouldn’t exactly call the other’s presence reassuring, but in a sense it was something close to it.

“Tsk, just who do you think you are? Acting all high and mighty?” Compared to before, the scowl had turned a bit friendly, but a scowl none the less.

“In case you haven’t heard or have been mistaking me for someone else, it’s Kashin Koji.” He replied with a tinge of whimsy in his voice. Matched with that was a tighter grip on the female’s hand which she reciprocated in kind. “Kiomi.” She rebutted against his satirical introduction.

When they at last released each other, there was probably a reddening mark there, but it also seemed like they’ve come to a certain understanding. “With a grip like that, what do you even hope to accomplish?”

Everything that comes out of his mouth is a fucking insult… Kiomi mused, unabashed by such a sentiment. Still, she watched him retrieve his mask only to wear it over his face once more. “I’ve a scouting mission at the Hokage’s behest. Two days time.” He stated out of the blue, walking towards her direction, incidentally near the exit. “Join me.”

“And why exactly, should I do that?” Folding her arms over her chest, she asked.

“Learn something useful rather than wallow in your self-pity.” Just before he could pass her completely, the intruder halted to cup her cheeks, moving it side to side casually.

(I made a thing.Lol Kiomi and her tendency to get manhandled.) There was no tenderness there, rather it seemed like he was inspecting a toy for some kind of defect. “You dont seem outclassed by anyone, not even by the Godaime. Put yourself to good use. You are a Shinobi, after all.”

“What does Lady Tsunade even have to do with this?”

“Who else would you feel so inferior to? It doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together. Besides,”

Finally, he’d relinquish his hold to observe her frame carefully. She was a slender woman, possibly bordering voluptuous underneath all that fabric. From the wrinkles and silhouette of her attire, he could tell that she was filled out in all the right places. Fair skin, a set of apprehensive platinum orbs…among other things. “You have the curves. Maybe not the appeal and self confidence, but you have the curves. You’ll be fine.”

Perhaps it was in that retort that Kiomi ran after Kashin Koji as he left her place, albeit with a senbon or two hurled at the man. “I was wrong; you’re probably just as much of a letch as sensei!”

The projectiles were caught between the fingers and twirled around with ease, no troubles at all. He contemplated for a mere second before deciding to keep them as a souvenir. “You wound me with your presumptuousness. I'm a busy man, and have no time for countless women. Such a disappointing assessment.” He waved her off, walking away and finally disappearing from sight.

===

Pardon the length, but this is how they normally interact in my story.

Koji serves as a challenge for Kiomi, while Kiomi serves as a "net" for Koji so that when he falls pray to his feeling of incompetency, he remembers that she expects him to plainly be Kashin Koji, and no one else. Both of them remind each other of something important which they both hope would make them better versions of themselves.

So what kind of relationship do they have? I'm pretty sure it's along the lines of frienemies.

[d-noona]

MAKE OVER

Chapter 9: Proposal

Jung Hoseok x Reader

Reader as Kang Hyeonji

SUMMARY: When Kang Hyeonji transformed herself into a striking redhead, the entire male population of Seoul stood up and took notice. But her make over was for Jung Hoseok’s benefit alone. He began to show interest in the new look but not in the way she wanted. Suddenly he was over-protective, perhaps a little jealous. It seemed that the idea of having a relationship with her couldn’t be further from his mind. The girl however wants more. So it was time for an ultimatum. If Hoseok didn’t want Hyeonji to lose her virginity to another admirer, he had no option but to make love to her himself.

The League Club had been the main social club of the Cantral Gwangju-Busan Coast area for some years. Membership was cheap, and not even necessary to gain entrance. Visitors and tourists were welcome to enjoy the many facilities and entertainment the club had to offer.

There were poker machines galore, bingo nights, dance clubs, variety shows, bars, lounges, snooker tables and even a TAB betting branch. The large bistro section provided inexpensive meals, with three other restaurants catering for patrons who wanted more extensive menu and silver service.

It was understandable, then, that the club car park was almost full by seven fifteen on thag saturday night. Hoseok finally found a spot on the top level, his face showing irritation by the time he and Hyeonji made their way ober by the lifts. When a black Jag sped around the corner from the level below and almost collected them, Hoseok could no longer contain his temper.

He swore, shaking his fist at the unseen driver. The Jag screeched to a halt. The tinted window purred down and Jeon Jungkook's distinctive dark brown hair and face leant out.

"Hoseok!" He exclaimed. "I thought it was you I nearly killed. Pretty stupid of me since I gather you're presenting me with my award tonight. I was voted Young Businessman of the Year, would you believe?"

Jungkook's deeply set doe eyes suddenly shifted over to Hyeonji, his black brows shooting upwards. "Good God, is that our little Hyeonji you've got with you? Wow, girl, you're looking even better than you did the other night. Hold the lift for me, you two, will you? It won't take me a second to park this old chariot."

Hoseok's grip on her arm tightened as he steered her over the lift. "Our little Hyeonji?" He grated out. "What did he mean by that? And where in God's name did he see you the other night?"

Hyeonji thought all her Christmases had come out at once. She could not have orchestrated things better for herself. Fate had, for once, been on her side.

"Jungkook drove by as I was walking home from the hair dresser Friday week ago," she said truthfully. "He stopped and gave me a lift home." Hoseok reached out with his free hand and jabbed the 'down' button before glowering down at her "And?" Hyeonji had no trouble adopting an innocent expression, she was innocent "And what?"

"And he told you, you looked fantastic, didn't he?"

Hyeonji stiffened. Suddenly, she could see which way Hoseok's mind was working and it wasn't what she wanted at all. Damn that infernal Mr X!

"He did say something complimentary," she hedged. "I can't really remember his exact words "

"Don't play games with me Hyeonji. You're not like to have forgotten the exact words your precious Mr X said to you. Jeon Jungkook IS your Mr X, isn't he? You lied to me about that. And you lied to me knowing that he'd be here tonight." As Hoseok's hold tightens on Hyeonji's arm.

"Don't be silly, Hobi." She shrugged out of his bruising hold. "Jungkook is not my Mr X and I had no idea he would be here tonight. But now that he is I can't say I'm sorry. I've always liked Jungkook. He's good fun."

The lift doors slid open and they walked in, Hyeonji and not Hoseok reaching for the 'hold' button.

"You do realize he'll try to hit on you," Hoseok pointed out scathingly. "Will he? Well, why should that worry you?" Hoseok snapped "Your even saying that shows naivety, I wouldn't trust him with an eighty-year-old grandmother!"

"I don't think Jungkook is that bad as everyone makes him out to be," she defended hotly, her face burning over Hoseok's calling her naive and silly. "I wouldn't advise your putting that notion to the test." He ground out.

An awkward silence fell between then, broken only when Jungkook strode into the lift. He was wearing a dinner suit similar ilk to Hoseok's, but somehow Hyeonji though Hoseok's looked more elegant. In Hyeonji's opinion people would say the clothes maketh the man. In Hoseok's case it was the other way around.

"Thanks babe," Jungkook said, pressing the ground floor button while ipenly ogling Hyeonji. "So how come you two are out together tonight? Last time I saw you Hoseok you had a blonde bombshell on your arm."

"Hobi and I are just good friends," Hyeonji piped up before Hoseok could say a word. "His girlfriend couldn't make it so I'm here in her place."

Jungkook looked pleased at this news. "So you're not on a real date?"

Hyeonji laughed. "Good heavens, no!"

"So what are you doing after dinner?" He persisted. Hyeonji had to give Jungkook his due. He didn't believe in wasting time.

"I'm taking her home," Hoseok pronounced firmly.

"Come now, don't be a spoilsport," Jungkook said jokingly. "If you're not interested in this little lady, then I surely am."

"Then I suggest you ask her out some other time," Hoseok said politely, even though his eyes would have set low-calorie jelly in ten seconds flat. "Contrary to Hyeonji's opinion, I DO consider this a real date. When I take a girl out for the night, I see her safely home."

The subtle emphasis on the word 'safely' did not escape Hyeonji. Or Jungkook, who rolled his eyes and snorted.

"I didn't realize you were so old fashioned." Jungkook retorted. "I don't consider myself old fashioned. But I do have certain standards."

Jungkook guffawed. "Yeah, I've seen some of them. And I must congratulate you on your standards. When you've finished with Blondie, you can give me her phone number."

The lift doors opened, and Hoseok took Hyeonji's arm. "Find your own girlfriends," he advised brusquely. "And leave Hyeonji alone."

Jungkook grinned. "Damn, fighting words Hoseok."

Hyeonji was astonished by the look Hoseok sent Jungkook. She'd always thought of Hoseok as a pacifist. Violence would never be his way. But there was violence in his eyes when he glared at his former classmate.

"Anytime Jungkook," he said in a voice reminiscent of Clint Eastwood at his tough-guy best. "Anywhere."

Doubt filled Jungkook's face. He glanced from Hoseok to Hyeonji to Hoseok again. In the end he shrugged and stalked off. Hyeonji couldn't make up her mind if she liked Hoseok's proprietorial manner or resented it. Whatever, her blood was up and was her temper.

"I don't understand your dog-in-the-manger attitude," she hissed on their walk from the lift to the club entrance. "You don't want me, but you don't want other man to want me."

"Who says I don't want you?" He hissed back.

Hyeonji ground to a halt, her crystal earrings in pendulum mode as she gaped up at the man she loved. But his returning glance was rueful and not full of the out-of-control, smoldering passion she was hoping for.

"Any red-blooded man would have to be dead not to want you, the way you're looking tonight," he ground out. "You must have got some inkling of the effect you had on me when I kissed you earlier. I had to exercise considerable self-control to stop when I did."

"No kidding," Hyeonji muttered. Ans she knew how he'd found that self-control. He'd only had to think of Tinashe tomorrow, she thought with savage despair. Why waste all that pent-up male sexuality on silly, naive, innocent Hyeonji when you have a blonde sex-bomb just waiting in the wings?

Her hazel brown eyes flashed as they raked over his handsome face. "Congratulations on your self-control," she said caustically. "But what good is that to me? I told you I wanted to move on Hobi."

"Meaning what?"

Hyeonji's laugh was dry. "And you called me silly and naive. Do I have to spell it out for you? I'm sick and tired of waiting for the man I love to love me back. And I'm sick and tired of being a virgin. Everyone keeps telling me to move on, even you! Well, I've decided to just that tonight in a way where there's no turning back! Since you won't oblige me, Hoseok, then I'll find someone who will."

"You don't mean that Hyeonji," he said in truly shocked tones. "I do mean it."

"Not Jungkook for pity's sake!"

"Why not Jungkook? I'm not expecting him to love me. Just to make love to me! I hear he's pretty good at that." Says Hyeonji. Hoseok groaned at the idea. "I can't bare to think of it."

"Well, you know what to do in that case," she threw at him in one desperate, last ditch attempt. "Do the honors yourself. If you were really my best friend you would."

He stared at her as though she were mad. She whirled and began to stride on ahead her skirt swishing angrily around her legs. She was mad all right, mad with herself. If she had any real guts she'd take Jungkook up on hid offer. Who knew? May she would before the night was up.

Hoseok caught up with her just as she approached the floor-to-ceiling glass doors which led into the club's brightly lit foyer. His arm linked forcibly with hers slowing her step before turning her to face him.

His brown eyes burned down at her with a darkly angry frustration "All right," he bit out. "I'll do it. But be it on your head, Hyeonji. God knows I suddenly lost mine!" And, with that, he swing her around and swept her into the club.

Chapter 10

Masterlist