#i do also think that almost immediately after when he tries to say someone's untrustworthy

[endbeginning]

listen. I know its not a laughing matter that clay was hospitalized for having a psychotic break but i do think..... it is a little funny..... that he tactically shat the bed on purpose and used it as a chance to escape

[sarnai4]

All In

Spoilers ahead for RTTE. I've seen and read a lot of stories, but I only have one character who's been my favorite hero and villain. That character is Dagur because he always went all in on whichever role he's supposed to play. I think the reason is that most characters are written with one particular role in mind. I've seen some who are meant to become heroes, so they never do anything too bad. They can't seem truly evil because they're eventually going to be good guys. Then, some characters have been part of that untrustworthy/villainous side for so long that even when they're supposed to be good, they do shady things that show how they're almost naturally villains. Neither of these happen with Dagur. When he's bad, he's really a villain; when he's good, he's really a hero. I love that.

I've seen mostly two opinions on Dagur. One where he's this monster who would eat kids in their nightmares and one where he's done nothing wrong. I feel like part of what makes him so amazing is that he did have both sides to him. As an antagonist, Dagur pulled no punches. He had the highest confirmed kill count of any human character. On top of who knows how many merchants he killed (since he was very ready to do that), he killed an entire island worth of Vikings. It's not just that either. He's one of the few villains who consistently tries to kill the Riders. When they were caught on the ship, he wanted to drown one of them. When he was fighting Astrid, he tried to dig an ax into her torso. He wasn't even loyal to other villains since he was constantly planning to betray them like with Alvin or the Grimborns. Villainous Dagur was threatening, unpredictable, and murderous. He was also a lot of fun, which made him my favorite baddie. Then, he pleasantly surprised me by turning good.

Dagur didn't have one of those moments where he tried to turn bad again. In all honesty, he couldn't. He'd done so many horrible things as a villain that if he ever did anything even remotely villainous again, no one would be able to forgive him. To put it into perspective, Dagur tried to sacrifice himself for everyone and STILL didn't gain all their trust. Generally, self sacrifice is kind of the most you can do, but since he didn't die, Heather was immediately suspicious of him again when she found him. It's because of everything he had done. So, to make up for how good of a villain he was, he had to be just as good a hero. Dagur became an incredibly selfless good guy.

Hiccup literally yelled that he hated him for leaving him with the Hunters (who technically had only captured the two of them because Hiccup tried to kill Dagur for supposedly poisoning Toothless) and Dagur was on his way to get Toothless to save him. When Dagur tried to sacrifice himself, he had to fight against Heather to do it. He isn't someone who needs someone to care about him back in order for him to protect them. Even in what he thought would be death, Dagur continued to try to help the Riders stop Viggo. Although the gold wasn't his, he still found it for Berk. Even though no one asked him to, he sent Berk willow bark when they didn't have any for medicine. On top of this, Dagur let Gustav (who is basically canonically hated by everyone) stay on Berserker Island at the request of Stoick. I'd say that after putting his life at risk and protecting the Riders, these other actions are necessary, but they show that the little details matter to him. I realize they matter to me too because they really showed me how much being a good person meant to Dagur. At every turn, he tried to do what he could to help his new friends. I truly respect that. He never half did anything. It makes sense. According to him, it's the Berserker way. All in, all the time. Sounds just like Dagur to me.

[ryoryeonggu]

To begin with, I’ve never been related to any characters like Jang Han Seo. It was oblivious that he was suffering from depression, anxiety and PTSD resulting from the abuse that he had been endured at home, but it seemed like he had the sign of social phobia as well. As we could see in the drama, his life completely revolved around his brother, he had no friends, no interested in dating or attracting to anyone (if we can count Han Seung Hyuk as his “friend” since he might be closer to him than anyone other than Han Seok and before Vincenzo). It might be because of the tittle as The Chairman of Babel and being born in a wealthy family which make him aware that people wanted to get close to him only for money or taking advantage of him to get what they wanted. But the things is, he seemed to avoid any chance of building relationships that have the potential to be more intimate or more complex than basic communication, rejecting even the slightest touch, not just with Han Seok - the one he's afraid of but almost everyone else.

For example, back when Vincenzo (the one he became extremely close to later on) was only a stranger and he pretended to be a fan to approach Han Seo. He appeared to be extremely enthusiastic and just only showed the want of touching Han Seo, Han Seo immediately flinched away and made a clearly uncomfortable expression. He looked at his hand like a gun pointing at him. 

Example 2, when Han Seung Hyuk - the one who had close relationship than anyone else besides his brother at that time, just about to go closer to him and he already gave the big “Don’t touch me bitch” energy and make a gesture for him to go away. 

This is the first time he had met his sister-in-law (applying for both his blood and adopted brothers). It didn’t go well.

Han Seo himself had proven to be an extremely clingy person and liked to actively skinship towards the people he was close to, but for others, when being touched, his body will immediately generate rejection and fear as a reflex.

Jang Han Seo had another trait that he was completely used to people ignoring him, not taking him seriously, but if someone liked him, complimented him, spoke well of him, then he didn't know how to react naturally as if his brain was immediately shut down. I totally understand this, because I have the same problem, if someone insults me even with the most hurtful things, I'll be like "you say nothing that I don’t already know. I also insulted myself like that every day so we have the same opinion bro” xD But if people compliment me with kind words, I will be extremely surprised, even scared and panic. I will be worried sick about how to make people continue to think well of me and what if I do something wrong later that makes them no longer like me. But of course, when the anxiety reaches a certain level, my mood will turn into: "Nevermind, let's care about it later. Who give a f*ck if they like me or not" lol But Jang Han Seo wasn’t like that. He remembered and held on to the praises of others stubbornly. Many people think that Han Seo betrayed Han Seok just because of Vincenzo, but in fact, the first person to put that thought into Han Seo's head was Han Seung Hyuk. He did not convince him with the benefits, fame, and money of being the true chairman of Babel, but that how he, on behalf of Babel’s member and as an employee of the company, valued and needed him. He hyped him up as the "sharp, ambitious and not murderous" ideally chairman, the only hope of Babel’s bright future and the only person that the people in the company could depend on. Before that, although he was really angry that Han Seok constantly rejected his offers, Han Seo kept saying "Are you telling me to betray my brother? Do you even know what you are saying?" showed that he completely accepted that he wasn’t able to run the company and continued to live in Han Seok's shadow, until Mr. Han opened a new vision for him. Han Seung Hyuk's words couldn’t tell that he was really meant it or not, and maybe Han Seo already knew he was untrustworthy, but it sparked the thought that he could actually do better than his brother and be capable of turning Babel into something good. When negotiating with Vincenzo, he mentioned not only that he wanted Vincenzo to spare his life but also Babel (not just the company itself or its property, but also the employees whose life depended on the company’s survival) Then Vincenzo came. Before Vin hyung appeared, Jang Han Seok was completely Han Seo's ideal model for him to look up to and learn from. He yelled at people’s face and throw hockey balls to their stomach to show his authority (like how his brother beated the shit out of him with a hockey stick when he messed up in the previous episode), making people afraid so they could listen to him (but most of his efforts failed miserably because he just looked like an adorable bratty angry kitten). Then Vin hyung appeared, encouraged him to study harder and gave him a completely different role model, the man he wanted to become. And that's when he started to change, showing his true self, he let his hair down, started to wear clothes that looked comfortable and youthful, laughed more often and looked more alive. After his brother went to prison, he turned into a friendly, gentle and loving chairman and didn't shout at anyone anymore xD Continued to episode 19, when Vincenzo mentioned the possibility of Han Seok being released from prison early and would come to him first, advising him to fly away to a foreign country, Han Seo, although trying to hide it, clearly shows his fear (of course when you've been terrified of something all your life, fear can't disappear within a day or two), but still refuses to run away because "I made a promise to you." Even when Vincenzo made it clear that "you can keep your promise to me later" and still tried to convince him, Han Seo was still determined to stay and fight to the end. Simply because Vincenzo showed his belief in Han Seo, that he had potential, he could change and become a better person, a trustworthy person that could count on, and because of that, he would do it everything to live up to that expectation (which he has proven he could - or at least tried to - do everything, except murders xD). Others' faith in him is Han Seo's biggest motivation, because he's probably used to being seen as a useless person without any value, a piece of trash that doesn't deserve to exist, not only for his brother, but also for his parents, who see his birth as an accident, a mistake of a casual cheating hook up, not a miracle result of their desire to have a child. That is also the reason why Han Seok completely failed to convince his little brother to betray Vincenzo by promising to give him all of Babel, it could be seen in Han Seo's reaction that there was not a bit of greed or joy, but a complete shock at his brother’s brutal request, and he still didn't move at all. It was only when Vincenzo took the initiative to kneel and asked him to do what Han Seok told him to do, Han Seo finally was able to stand up, and when Vincenzo said "It's okay", implying that he would’ve fully understood if Han Seo had chose to kill him for survival, in that moment he already knew what he had to do, even at the cost of the life that he treasured the most. Because what Han Seo longed from the beginning was never Babel, but rather to become a kind of meaningful existence, not only for others but also for himself.

[indigosabyss]

Jaded

Izuku didn’t know when it started exactly. He supposed it might have been when he first got his own laptop, when he was twelve years old. In the years before this, his mom usually made sure that he didn’t get sucked into forums for hours on end, but once he got his laptop, he was almost immediately sucked into the rabbit hole of hero forums and discussions. Sure, Bakugo might bully him in school, and all the teachers would turn a blind eye, and every person who knew that he was quirkless treated him like he had been given a death sentence or something, but on the forums, no one knew him, and no one could tell that he was quirkless. His voice mattered.

Well, it mattered just as much as every other faceless voice on the internet, but that was at least more than you could say about his actual life. Until, one day, he found himself looking at a news clipping on one of these forums.

Middle School Mass Murderer Still At Large

Tragedy struck as a middle school in Yokohama that we are not allowed to name because of privacy laws. A dozen students was found locked in a janitor’s office, with stab wounds covering them. At least half of those students succumbed to the wounds, while the remaining students are in critical condition.

According to the statement of one of the victims, they had been led there by a classmate, who had also been found dead in the office, and furthermore, had already decayed more than the other casualties when the kids were found that same day. Of course, the traumatizing circumstances make the statement somewhat untrustworthy, but with this just following an incident a few blocks away, at a school which had a seemingly healthy and bright student allegedly kill a fellow student, is sparking worry that there is a mysterious villain in the shadows, with a Quirk that is manipulating these poor children to butcher each other.

All citizens are firmly advised to stay safe, and all middle school students should be on high alert. If you think anything is off, or have suspicions about the identity of this atrocious criminal, do not hesitate to contact the local heroics agency.

Pictured below are the innocent children who’s lives were taken far too young, just hours before the tragedy.

Izuku stared at the pictures of several students, smiling happily at the camera, and some candid shots too.

There was fervent debate below the post, discussing who exactly could’ve done such a thing, and how it was possible. It all seemed redundant to Izuku.

Couldn’t they see? The killer was right in front of them. Everything lined up so well.

Of course, he could be wrong though, it would be just like a Quirkless Deku like him to be barking up the completely wrong tree, but a quick Google searches later, and he didn’t think that that’s what it was. It just seemed so crystal clear for it to be wrong.

So, he through his hat into the ring, and dove into the comments.

MightyGreenBoy217: It’s pretty obvious that it was the girl who killed her classmate from a couple schools away.

IceQueen: Umm… proof?

MightyGreenBoy217: I looked up her case, and it has slightly more information. Her name is Himiko Toga, and her Quirk has to do with blood, considering the fact that she was seen drinking the blood of the victim. Her Quirk is not public as she is still a minor, but taking into account that both of her parents have somewhat shapeshifting-based Quirks, it would be prudent to assume it’s the same for her. Remember that there is eye witness testimony of a girl who should’ve been dead before the incident took place, leading them to the scene of the crime.

Furthermore, the idea of a Quirk unlocking violent tendencies in the minds of other people, while plausible, doesn’t seem to match anything I can find in the database. It could be a form of brainwashing, but it seems unlikely, since there were no suspicious figures loitering about the school according to reports from other newspapers.

Plus, if you look into the backdrop of the pictures we’re shown, you can actually see Himiko Toga standing there in the corner. Plus, I got super curious, and started thinking about motive, because no one would do anything without a motive, and I found out that one of the children pictured here was also in a picture in another article, about the Himiko Toga incident. I dug into it, because I was super curious, and it turns out that one of the victims was actually a former friend of Himiko Toga’s, who had actually been the one to report her to the authorities, so it’s safe to assume that she did this for revenge.

He released a breath as he tapped the Enter button. He’d gone on for a bit too long, but he needed to cram all his information in it so they might just follow where he was coming from, just in case it turned out that he was wrong.

He bit his lip and waiting for someone or the other to respond.

Meteoric-iron: Holy shit…. You got that from some news articles?!

MightyGreenBoy217: Yeah, I did. Why, you think I'm off the mark??

IceQueen: Wow... That's a lot of evidence. It's nowhere near enough proof though. But you gotta admit the coincidences are a bit too perfect.

Yeah, that was all it was, just a massive coincidence he was looking too deep into.

He ended up putting his laptop away when his mother called him out for dinner, and didn't think about that incident again.

Until that is, a couple days later when the user called Meteoric-iron sent him a DM.

Meteoric-iron: ARE YOU A PSYCHIC OR SOMETHING?!

Along with that, there was a link to an article, that Izuku hesitantly clicked on.

Middle School Murderer Identified

The culprit of the slew of deaths happening in middle schools in one corner of the Yokohama Prefecture has been identified as one Himiko Toga, aged 14.

Police were able to connect the dots when someone brought up the fact that a person with great resemblance to Himiko Toga was found in pictures taken on the same day as the attack. Further investigation revealed her saliva was found on the scene, and usage of her Quirk seemed to be the reason behind the conflicting sequence of events.

The local authorities admit that it might have been solved quicker, and the villain might have been apprehended, if they had had a more competent analyst, since Quirk Records of children are not disclosable to anyone without good reason.

He stared at the article, hardly daring to believe it. He actually got it right? But how?

He typed back to the person.

MightyGreenBoy217: Haha, nothing that cool. It was just a hunch. Glad I was right tho!

Meteoric-iron: That is so crazy. You got to the bottom of it in… what? A couple hours? And it took the police several days. You a hero or something?

MightyGreenBoy217: Oh, nothing like that! I just like quirks and stuff. It just clicked when I saw the pieces laid out.

Meteoric-iron: Huh… you should be a QA. Bet everyone will fall over their feet for someone that good.

Izuku felt like scoffing. Yeah, right, like anyone would want some of his crappy analyses.

But... Well, this person wasn't the first person to say that. It couldn't hurt to try.

That night, he looked over the profile of his new analyst account on the quirk discussion forum he'd been a part of for a while.

Everything was there, from his fees per commission (Nothing; he didn't want to make someone pay for his work when they didn't know how poor quality it was), to any restrictions he had, (nothing about lethal spots, especially for heroes; he'd heard enough horror stories about villains approaching analysts to get them to help kill a hero)

All that remained was a name. What could he do?

He tapped his chin as he tried to think. What was special about him?

Considering how he was always being told how plain looking he was, there wasn't a lot.

He was Quirkless, but that wasn't something he wanted to be known for. No way someone would trust him with a quirk after that.

He ran a hand through his hair, before freezing. Wait, he had green hair. Wasn't there some English word for the color green? What was it? Jared? Jaded?

Yeah, jaded, that was probably it.

Just to be sure, he Googled it.

Turns out, it did not mean green. It meant exhausted. What was the word he was looking for?

As he thought it over, his eyes drifted over the definition again. Huh, oddly, it seemed fitting to him.

It was an impulsive choice, but he typed it in quickly.

Jaded_qa.

He didn't have time to overthink it, as he pressed Enter before he could start to back down.

And just like that, it was done.

He didn't know it then, but his life was about to get a whole lot crazier.

[dangan-meme-palace]

Analysis – Kokichi's Plan in Chapter 4

The concept, the execution, and the failure.

Before we start, it's my personal recommendation that you read this analysis before rewatching the chapter 4 trial, and then reading it as you rewatch it. Unfortunately, due to tumblr limiting the number of pictures I can put in a single post, I've decided to refrain from adding screenshots as I just have too many I want to add. However, my points are evidenced by the trial itself if you watch carefully with them in mind, and so I'm encouraging you to do so. Please, please do so.

Concept

By my analysis, Kokichi's plan was to implicate himself as the culprit and for Gonta to get away with the murder in order to mercy kill the rest of the students and save them from despair.

Kokichi mentions this much before and after the trial, most people remembering the moments after and not the moments before; probably because between subtle admittance and loud screaming and crying, you'll remember the screaming and crying more. This analysis is based on the fact that his words pre- and post-trial are true, which is backed by several canon instances and also it just makes sense.

Execution

Now! This plan required a few things to work:

It required Kokichi to make everyone hate and be suspicious of him

It required Gonta to cooperate

It required Kokichi to be able to get around Shuichi's deductive reasoning in some way

It required a majority of the class to vote for Kokichi

If that wording seems specific, it's because it is!

I'll be talking about each major component of this plan and how each factor (almost) worked together to create a perfect storm + when, how, and why this plan failed despite quite frankly being a fantastic display of Kokichi's talent as the Ultimate (Supreme) Leader.

The 1st component is pretty much accomplished before the chapter even begins, he is a self-proclaimed liar that annoys people regularly after all, but in order for the 3rd and 4th components to really work he needed to sink his reputation even lower. He does this in a multitude of ways both before and during the trial: making sinister faces or looking nervous at appropriate times, antagonizing everyone (but most importantly Gonta and Kaito), and just in general being a lying nuisance that no one really wants to listen to.

The 2nd component was accomplished inside the Virtual World... and then immediately undone as soon as Gonta logged out due to a couple of crossed wires. The fact that Gonta forgot remaining undiscovered by everyone (including Kokichi) until two-thirds of the way through the trial is important to how the plan failed and adds perspective in areas, but I'll hold off on explaining why until it's time to talk about it in-depth. Make a mental note and let's move on.

The 3rd component explains why during the investigation every single surviving member of the cast told Shuichi that they trusted him but then when we get really into the trial we start seeing them doubt him immensely, Kaito being among the people that doubted Shuichi the most. Why is that? How did everyone go from relying on Shuichi to thinking for themselves and doubting his reasoning, and what does it have to do with Kokichi? It's simple: Kokichi lead the others into doing so.

We see this a lot during the investigation period, or at least the prep work of it. Kokichi constantly encourages the others to say things like: "We can't leave this all to Shuichi, we have to work hard too!" by telling them that they should all rely on Shuichi and to never doubt his judgment. Kokichi was using his bad reputation to make them come to a conclusion that is the exact opposite of what he said. More on that a little later as well!

Kokichi knows his reputation, he's the one that made it that way after all, and frequently you will see him use it to his advantage. Whether he's trying to cover up an emotional outburst or he's trying to make someone admit something, you will often see him use his reputation as someone untrustworthy to lead conversations in subtle ways.

I use the word "lead" with great emphasis as that is his Talent. He is the very best of the best at leading people; The Ultimate (Supreme) Leader. When he wants someone to think a certain way or do something they end up doing it whether they realize it or not, because he is extremely talented in his field. I cannot stress enough how good this man is at leading conversations and people into going where he wants them to go. Oh shit back to the point–!

During this time we also see Kokichi acting strange, so strange that Shuichi mentions it four times in his internal dialogue. Following him, being helpful, offering advice and hints... it seems nice until you realize his intention wasn't to become good partners with Shuichi, but to instead ruin Shuichi's reputation with the others by having them associate Shuichi with Kokichi, who they already hate thanks to component 1.

During the trial you'll see this subtle manipulation working as soon as Kokichi starts calling Shuichi partner and making Shuichi agree with his points, putting on a false show of partnership. To the others it seemed that Shuichi was picking Kokichi over all of his friends even when Shuichi himself tries to explain otherwise, and this is absolutely no coincidence.

Kaito is especially affected by this because Kaito and Kokichi are sworn enemies, and in Kaito's mind, Shuichi just picked his enemy over him. It really hurt him to be "betrayed" like this, causing Kaito to turn his back on Shuichi despite the numerous promises that he would never do such a thing he made prior to this trial. Kokichi really focuses on breaking their friendship too, interrupting Shuichi multiple times when he tries to tell Kaito that it's not personal and making sinister faces while saying that Shuichi is his partner now, taunting and gloating to Kaito's face about the loss of his sidekick. Breaking them apart was actually key to how Kokichi used Kaito's influence to his advantage in component 4.

Focus on Kaito aside, everyone else also refuses to agree with Kokichi –and Shuichi by association– which means that no matter what Shuichi says or how hard he tries to prove it, as long as Kokichi interrupts him and spins the story to make it look like he was somehow involved in that deduction, no one will agree with Shuichi no matter how much logic he throws at them. He has placed Shuichi's deductions in a permanent state of check. No matter what Shuichi says or does, Kokichi can and will get in the way of it immediately to control the narrative of the trial.

During this time Kokichi also says that Gonta is the culprit and I know that it tripped a lot of people up so I'll elaborate on what he was doing before we get to the next component. You have to remember that Kokichi's style of lying for this trial has predominantly been him saying the exact opposite of what he means in order to make the others do it. If Kokichi says "go left" they will all go right, that is how he uses his reputation. Notice how when he says Gonta is the culprit everyone's immediate reaction is to defend Gonta and persecute Kokichi even more than they were before, effectively framing himself by making it look like he was framing Gonta. When looking at Kokichi's lies it is sometimes essential to analyze the reaction he got than the lie on it's own because what he wants out of people is just as important as what he says to make them do it.

This leads into the 4th component: Kokichi getting the majority vote.

Kaito unquestionably holds the most influence in the trial after Shuichi loses all of his, gaining more by spearheading the hate campaign against Kokichi, and because of this everyone almost lost their lives in a mass execution.

After Shuichi's reputation in the eyes of the others is seen as being led astray and therefore less trustworthy, Kaito is the one that causes and loudly encourages everyone to rally against Kokichi, and by extension, doubt Shuichi's deductions. Kaito doing this more out of a hatred/distrust of Kokichi than anything related to Shuichi, with the rest following suit because they can't trust Kokichi, who they've been lead to hate so much in this trial by both Kaito and, unbeknownst to them, Kokichi. Kokichi essentially created his own witch hunt, with the cast's irrational anger without proof almost leading to a false conviction.

Allow me to further emphasize the fact that everyone but Shuichi was convinced that "Kokichi was a cold-hearted murderer trying to frame poor Gonta for his own crimes." Also allow me to remind you that according to the rules you don't need everyone to vote for the same person in order to win, you just need a majority. Kokichi had that majority and was about to "win" the trial.

...So why didn't he?

Failure

Two. Crossed. Wires.

That's it. All it took was one little piece to be out of place and Kokichi's astonishingly brilliant strategy crumbled in an instant. Allow me to clarify:

Everyone remembers the moment when Kokichi yelled at Gonta, right? The big, bad moment? That one? Good. I'm about to explain to you what Kokichi was thinking while he yelled.

In Kokichi's mind, his plan was almost complete. He had done the impossible! Everything had gone according to keikaku! He had gotten Gonta's cooperation, he made everyone blame him, he made everyone stop listening to the Ultimate Detective, all that was left was for Gonta to condemn him in front of the others and they would all vote for the wrong man. That one little nudge at this very crucial turning point and the plan would finally be complete, his effort made to bear fruit...

Except... Gonta never condemned Kokichi with any sort of evidence, all he said was "I don't know!" and "I didn't do it!" Gonta was about to trip them at the finish line and so Kokichi, as subtly as he could, told Gonta to blame him, the "culprit". Once, twice, a third time... he really tried to explain to Gonta what he was meant to do without alerting the others. It didn't even have to be true, as long as Gonta denounced Kokichi with even the slightest bit of evidence, the others were in enough of a frenzy to believe anything that pinned Kokichi as the culprit. Still, Gonta doesn't catch the hints from his collaborator. How could he? He didn't remember ever becoming partners in the first place. However, Kokichi doesn't know that and gets very frustrated that Gonta is about to throw away their one ticket to stopping the game, so he screams "Just make up an excuse or whatever" in his anger, still trying to get his point across. Gonta can't fuck up now. This is their only shot. Despite this, once more Gonta doesn't know what's going on and misses his cue.

Shuichi finally notices this as well, coming to the conclusion that Gonta's avatar had been the one with the error. Kokichi quickly realizes that his partner isn't available to him anymore, his memories lost in a bundle of wires and code. The moment is over, the frenzy has cooled off by the time Shuichi was done explaining and there was no way for him to lead the conversation again after ruining his own reputation like that. The plan failed.

All because of two little wires.

From here on out we see Kokichi visibly withdraw. There isn't anything left for him to do but complete the trial and think of a new plan. He's less motivated than before, insults everyone less than before, offers his input less than before, and generally seems like he can barely keep up his facade. You can't blame him though, with everything that happened that day and the fact that it was all in vain anyway really must have taken it's toll on Kokichi. From his friend trying to kill him to trying and failing to plan around his own murder to orchestrate and get away with a mass mercy kill... it's an unbelievable understatement to say he was having a bad day.

He speeds the trial up as much as he can with Kaito stubbornly getting in the way, forcing Shuichi to cross everyone off the suspect list except for Gonta, the unwitting blackened. Whether it was out of pity for Gonta's confusion or just him wanting the trial to be over already due to emotional exhaustion, or perhaps even both, doesn't neccesarily matter. Shuichi ends the trial regardless, and it's all over. Kokichi wasn't able to save anyone from despair and two of his friends died for nothing. He has no one to rely on now and no one left would ever consider letting him close to them. Roll credits... until he comes up with a new plan moments after Gonta is executed because if there is one thing about Kokichi you can always bet on, it's his quick wit.

Afterword

Now that we're at the end, I would like to make something very clear because with how much emphasis I put on Kokichi's capabilities as a leader I'm worried that I might be misunderstood.

I do not believe Gonta was manipulated into murdering Miu. Canon proves that Gonta was a willing collaborator due to external factors not relating to Kokichi's talent as a Leader, but instead because of despair and his own desire to protect everyone and that's that.

It's not really related to this anaylsis, however if I see someone using my own analysis to try and prove that Kokichi was anything but friends with Gonta I will go apeshit. Do not fucking do that.

[kumeko]

A/N: For the ‘A lost Ballroom of gold’ rarepair zine! I had to write sylvixgrid and I wanted to lean into that masquerade feel. This is utterly self indulgent.

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Ingrid softly sighed as she looked around the ballroom. Dozens of couples waltzed around the dance floor, each pair magically gliding past each other without so much as a bumped elbow. As A minor noble’s daughter, there were many perks to her family’s status: there weren’t as many functions she had to attend, her father allowed her free reign to hunt and ride on their lands in the attire of her choice, and society’s expectations for her were low.

 Unfortunately, that was only when Fódlan’s was out of season. Now that the balls had finally started, her father had packed her off and sent her to the capital. The season really just meant ‘husband hunting’, as her friend Dorothea had put it. While Ingrid understood the importance of climbing up the social ladder, of marrying a more powerful family in order to help her own, she hated it with every fiber of her being.

 It also didn’t help that she was terrible at courtship. She had two left feet, walked in a masculine fashion, and the only good thing about her was that if she kept quiet, she could perhaps pass for a gentle lady. Rubbing her arm, she tried not to glare. Ingrid couldn’t scare away everyone, after all.

 “Careful, your face might freeze like that,” a man to her right teased.

 “What—” Ingrid snapped, cutting herself off when she realized her childhood friend stood next to her. “Sylvain!”

 The redhead grinned mischievously. “That’s the name, don’t wear it out!” Hands in his jacket pockets, he leaned forward to take her all in. Suddenly, she felt self-conscious in her pale green ball gown.

“What?” she asked, resisting the urge to tug on her long hair nervously.

 With a wolfish grin, he whistled. “Wow, Ingrid, you look gorgeous. How’d they get you in that?”

 Immediately, she wanted to elbow him. His flirting came to him as easily as breathing; she should have expected that by now. Still, her ears warmed at the compliment. “Sylvain, please tell me you haven’t said that to every woman in the room. I can’t save you if you’re attacked later.”

 “Don’t worry, the idiot hasn’t talked to anyone yet,” Felix cut in.

 Ingrid blinked, surprised. Leaning forward, she found her other childhood friend on Sylvain’s other side. The two were dressed in similar suits, with small differences such as tie colours and buttons matching their families’ crests and coat of arms.

 It was odd. The season had started a few weeks ago, and while she’d only attended a few events since, she’d seen and heard Sylvain flitting about them. Felix, on the other hand, she’d barely heard a word about and she’d almost thought he’d stayed behind in his estate. “Felix? I thought you didn’t like balls.”

 “I don’t,” he replied flatly. His posture was stiff as he looked around the ballroom, his perpetual scowl scaring away anyone who’d come near.

 Well, if Ingrid didn’t find a partner tonight, she could blame Felix for it at least.

 “Why do you two always gang up on me?” Sylvain pouted, his cheeks puffing slightly. He’d always had a childish streak. It was cute at times like these, when she wasn’t cleaning up after him. “Felix, you think she’s pretty too, right?”

 Felix made a strangled sound before directing his glare at Sylvain. Despite her best efforts, Ingrid still felt a pang of pain; she’d long known that the extent of his affections was a bare tolerance. Anything more was pushing him. Before he could say something she couldn’t unhear, she stepped on Sylvain’s foot. “Don’t drag Felix into your jokes.”

 Felix looked at her, his expression unreadable.

 “I wasn’t, but fine, fine, I give.” Sylvain sighed, his handsome features twisting into a frown. “Anyways, been here long, Ingrid?”

 “Not really.” She rubbed her wrist, remembering the journey over. “My carriage’s wheel needed to be fixed, so I arrived late. I could have just ridden here instead, with the time it took.”

 “That sounds just like you.” Sylvain laughed. Leaning closer, he waggled his brows, already over his sulking. “So you haven’t danced with anyone yet?”

 “No,” Ingrid replied slowly, stiffening. There was something inherently untrustworthy when Sylvain asked that many questions in a row. Even more so when her response caused him to sigh with relief and Felix to visibly relax.

 Whenever the both of them agreed to something, there was trouble brewing. She’d never understood how Sylvain managed to drag her, Felix, or even the king’s son, Dimitri, into any of his nefarious plots, but then again, she’d never met anyone with a silver tongue like his. He’d even charmed her grandmother!

 “Why are you asking?” she asked, stepping out slightly so she could glare at both of them.

 “Nothing, nothing!” Sylvain walked closer, blocking Felix from her view. Felix had always been the worse liar. “Can’t a friend ask questions anymore?”

 “Not when the friend is you.” She pursed her lips, trying to read his expression.

 “Am I really that untrustworthy?”  His smile didn’t drop a notch, his eyes crinkling with amusement. Without waiting for her to respond, he held out a hand. “Well, since you haven’t had a chance yet, could I claim your first dance?”

 “Huh?” That wasn’t the response she’d expected. Flabbergasted, she stared at his hand. “Me?”

 “Who else?” he winked playfully.

 “But…but…” Incredulous, Ingrid spluttered as she tried to make sense of it all. She couldn’t tell if this was one of Sylvain’s japes, or if he was earnest. And even if he were earnest, this wasn’t one of their family functions; the dances here were for a singular purpose for them.

 “Let’s get in before the song starts.” He gently grabbed her hand before she could reply and quickly guided her to the dance floor. When she hadn’t been paying attention, the last waltz had ended and a new one had started. Couples swapped on the floor, pairs exchanging partners as they tried to find a suitable spouse.

 And now, in the midst of it all, she stood with Sylvain. His arm hooked around her waist, pulling her almost flush against him. His other hand slipping into her right, cupping it carefully. Her skin burned from the impropriety of it all, but this was the waltz. They were supposed to be this close. Sylvain’s breath was supposed to warm her ear, his long hair was supposed to mingle with hers if she turned her head just so, and no one would think this was shocking.

 Unless they realized it was Ingrid he was dancing with, and not one of his many, many dancing partners. God, she hoped no one recognized her, she couldn’t handle the gossip after.

 “Shall we?” he asked, cocking his head slightly, green eyes bright with merriment.

 It was impossible to resist those eyes. Gingerly, she rested her hand on his shoulder and nodded, not trusting her voice. Luckily, the music started immediately after and they slowly glided through the ballroom in time with everyone else. Ingrid had never been a good dancer—she could handle the movements just fine, but she lacked the grace to make them look good. Sylvian never had that problem and in his arms, she felt comfortable with the moves for once. It was like she’d finally learned to read or solved a difficult problem.

 “Having fun?” Sylvain asked quietly.

 She hadn’t realized she was smiling. “Yeah. I didn’t realize dancing could be so” Fun. “Easy.”

 “That’s because you always overthink things.” He chuckled, his eyes sparkling. “You and Felix are both the stiffest dancers I’ve ever seen.”

 “Well, sorry for that,” she huffed. “Why don’t you dance with someone more graceful next round?”

 “Hey, I didn’t say it was a bad thing!” Sylvain protested, dipping her slightly before pulling her back. “I find it cute.”

 Ingrid fixed him with a flat stare. “Cute.”

 “Yes, very cute.” Sylvain chuckled. “Your expression is so serious when you try to dance, and Felix’s is so determined to beat his partner. It’s like you’re both fighting a war. There’s just something really cute about how terrible you both are.”

 “I’m not trying to be cute,” she grumbled automatically, though her mind was awhirl from what he’d just said. She’d had her suspicions over the years, but this was the second time he’d brought up Felix. Maybe she hadn’t been imagining things after all.

 “Which makes it all the cuter.” Sylvain grinned as he squeezed her hand. “Man, I’m glad you finally debuted. The season’s was too long last year. I really missed you.”

 If he hadn’t taken the lead, Ingrid would have frozen in place. Sylvain was a consummate flirt, something that was easy to forget in face of how goofy he was. These lines just rolled off his tongue naturally. They didn’t mean anything. He’d said them to dozens of girls, some she’d had to console after.

 Her skin heated up anyways.

 “Sylvain.” She frowned, looking up at him. “I know you act like this to every girl you meet, but you shouldn’t be telling people you have no intention of courting that they are cute or that you miss them or well, flirt with them.”

 He didn’t look the least bit contrite or chastened as he locked eyes with her. “What makes you think I have no intention?”

 The implication wasn’t lost to her. Incredulous, she studied his face once more, looking for some sign that this was another jest of his, that this was out of pity or something akin. “Sylvain, you’re supposed to take this seriously,” she hissed, lowering her voice.

 “I am taking this very seriously,” he replied. For once, there was none of his charm in his voice, none of his light-hearted teasing. His green eyes bore into hers and she swallowed. The music stopped. Before she could get her bearings, he leaned close, his lips brushing her ear and sending a shiver down her spine. “I meant every word.”

 Then he stepped away, bowing slightly, his usual teasing smile in place as he headed to the side of the room. She could only stare at his back, her blush spreading down her neck. How was she supposed to take that? React to that?

 Someone behind her coughed, and Ingrid realized she was still on the dance floor. The next song would start soon. “Sorry,” she mumbled, turning around. “I—”

 Her apology caught in her throat as she found Felix stiffly standing behind her, his hand out. “Next dance is mine.”

 Felix looked utterly uncomfortable about the whole thing and Ingrid bit back a sigh. “I can guess why Sylvain did it, but you don’t have to copy him. I don’t need your pity too.”

 He snorted. “Like I would do this out of pity.”

 Well, she couldn’t deny he had a point there. Ingrid couldn’t remember the last time anyone had forced Felix to do something he didn’t want to. Even his father had a hard time reigning him. Puzzled, she bit her lip. “Then why are you here? You don’t like dancing. You don’t like the attention. You can barely tolerate me. What do you get out of this?”

 He looked at her, his expression unreadable. “The dance is about to start.”

 “That isn’t an answer,” she grumbled, rolling her eyes as she took his hand. However infuriating he was, dancing with him was still better than dancing with yet another unknown suitor.

 Felix’s hands were surprisingly gently as he slipped into position, his right hand featherlight as it settled on her waist. His other hand clasped hers delicately, like she was china and easily breakable.

 “You can hold on a little tighter. You know I don’t bruise that easily.” Ingrid clicked her teeth disapprovingly, resting her left hand on his shoulder as she stepped closer. “We can’t dance if I’m that far.”

 He didn’t say anything, not even his usual scoff, as his fingers dug into her side a little firmer. When she peeked up, she found his ears a soft pink, jaw clenched. Normally she’d think of it as his usual annoyed look, but now she reconsidered. Felix seemed more embarrassed than irritated. Ingrid giggled softly. Even when they were kids, he’d always strived for perfection; it must bother him that in this one arena he couldn’t quite reach it.

 “Why are you laughing?” he asked as he took the lead.

 “Nothing,” she lied, hiding her smile. Knowing how he’d take it, it was better not to say anything at all.

 He harrumphed but didn’t press. This dance wasn’t quite as easy as her last. Felix was steady, for sure, and mostly smooth, but he lacked that innate grace that Sylvain had. Then again, she wasn’t much better herself, and she felt at ease as she kept up with him. They were equally uncomfortable on the dance floor, and there was something oddly reassuring about that.

 From the corner of her eye, she studied him. Standing under the bright candelabras, he cut a dashing figure. A classical handsome, with his well-cut jaw and stern expression. Sylvain had always been the preferred one, but she’d still heard ladies tittering for Felix, not realizing just how sharp a tongue he had.

 Or how carefully he hid his soft spots. Like this dance. Ingrid scanned the wall as they danced, trying to find their misguided friend. “I’m sure Sylvain pushed you into this, but thanks anyways.”

 “Sylvain didn’t push me.”

 His response was blunt, to the point, and Ingrid tore her eyes back to him, flabbergasted. “Huh?”

 Felix’s eyes were dark, burning, as they met hers. She’d seen this gaze directed at Sylvain before, but now that it was on her, she was surprised by the intensity. “Why do you think I can barely tolerate you?”

 “I…” It was a little hard to think and she studied his shoulder. “I’ve known you for years. After Glen—”

 At the mention of his dead brother, of her ex-fiancé, his grip tightened. Even now, he hardened when Glen’s name was brought up. “That was years ago.”

 Oddly enough, his voice was tempered for once. She’d expected his usual harsh outburst, but today he had reigned in his emotions enough for them to actually talk. “It was also a rejection,” she replied carefully. “Not just of the engagement, but of me.”

 Ingrid hadn’t expected him to take on his brother’s engagement after; he had always chafed against his father’s expectations. But he had been unnecessarily cruel when he had. With time and distance, she could see it for what it was: a boy in pain lashing out. Yet they had never properly talked about it and it was ironic that out here, as they swayed and spun in time with a dozen strangers, that they were having the most honest conversation they’d had in years.

 “We haven’t been the same since then,” she added, lowering her eyes.

 Felix fell silent and she wondered if he hadn’t noticed the gap between them. Sylvain had always filled it; ever since he’d pulled her out of her depression, dragged Felix out of his rage, he’d always done that. They’d had a handful of times when it’d been just the two of them after, and it had always been an awkward dance of figuring out where they stood with one another.

 Letting go of his shoulder, she twirled once before he pulled her back into his arms. Quietly, he muttered, “I shouldn’t have said that.”

 She had to strain to hear his response; he wouldn’t repeat this, she knew. It was as close to an apology as Felix could get, and something in her unclenched. Clearing her throat, she offered a lopsided smile. “It’s fine. Like you said, it was years ago.”

 “Anything else?” he asked, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with her.

 It took her a moment to remember what he was talking about. “Well, there’s…”

 Ingrid frowned, parsing through her memories. What else was there? Felix had a sharp tongue, it was true, and they’d gotten into more than a few fights over it, but that was the case with everyone. While he had never sought her company, it was almost impossible to imagine him asking for anyone either.

 And even when she’d barged in, uninvited, he had never turned her away either. Even at his grumpiest, he’d listen to her rant about Sylvain and his pilfering ways.

 “You…” She bit her cheek, trying to figure out why she’d felt that way. Grasping for straws, Ingrid mumbled, “You’re softer with Sylvain.”

 Felix snorted. “You’re the same.”

 Ingrid couldn’t deny that. “Then…” She had nothing else. Had she spent years misreading their interactions, all because she couldn’t let go of the past? Embarrassed, she stared at his shoulder. “I was wrong.”

 She expected a smirk, an insult, anything but the soft chuckle he gave. Surprised, she looked up at him only to find his usual exasperated expression was more fond than annoyed. Felix brought them to a halt, bowing slightly as he let go of her hand.

 As he left her not only with more questions, but the strangest sensation in the pit of her stomach.

 “Fe—” Before she could take a step forward, broad shoulders blocked her sight and Ingrid looked up to find Sylvain grinning at her once more.

 “Can I have the next dance?”

 -x-

 For all her intelligence, Ingrid knew she could be dense on some matters. However, after swapping between her friends yet again, even she could figure out what their plans were. Or, at least what part of their plans were—their conversations left her confused and flushed in ways she couldn’t understand.

 Still, that could possibly be chalked up to the fact that she had done four dances in a row. For a woman that hated her heels, that was four too many. It was time to end this game. The second the song ended, Ingrid grabbed Felix’s hand before he could disappear. Pivoting immediately, she found a surprised Sylvain already waiting in the wings.

 “We’re going to talk,” she ground out, snatching his hand as well. The nobles would titter about this, no doubt. It was highly improper to act the way she did, but she was tired of the questions, the confusion, and, most importantly, the dancing.

 They’re almost too compliant as she drags them to a secluded balcony. Ingrid had never known Felix to agree to anything in his life. All but shoving them out into the cool, night air, she hastily loosened the curtains on the doors before closing them behind her. It was the most privacy they could get, unless she forced them further into the gardens.

 Sylvain and Felix stood in the middle of the balcony, watching her expectantly. There was a single candelabra outside, giving just enough light that she could make out their expressions. Sylvain’s looked apprehensive, while Felix’s was more bored. Her heels clacked against the marble as she approached them, coming to a stop just in front of the two. “What do you think you’re doing?”

 Felix snorted. “Told you we couldn’t keep it from her.”

 “I know, I know.” Sylvain sighed, running a hand through his fiery mane. “I thought we’d have a little longer.”

 Triumphant at this admission, she crossed her arms. “I knew it. Is this some sort of game.”

 “Game?” Sylvain laughed, shaking his head. “No, no, we’re just keeping the others from dancing with you.”

 That wasn’t a response she’d expected. Or, well, maybe from Sylvain, but not Felix as well. Confused, she glanced from one to the other. “What? Why?”

 Felix regarded her coolly. “Why do you think?”

 She didn’t really have an answer to that. Turning it over in her mind, she hazarded a guess. “You remembered how I complained about my father? I’m grateful, truly, but—”

 The words died in her throat when Felix frowned, shooting her a derisive look. She’d guessed wrong. Even Sylvain sighed, pinching his nose. “How are you so sharp in everything else, but get this wrong?”

 “Are you calling me an idiot?” Ingrid retorted hotly, flushing. She had known these two for years now, how was she having such a hard time reading them tonight?

 Felix shrugged. “You are one,” he stated simply.

 “Your denseness is adorable,” Sylvain smoothened over, grinning as he wrapped an arm around Felix’s shoulder. “But it makes things a lot harder than it has to be.”

 “What? Dense?” Ingrid gaped, not sure how she’d ended up here. She was supposed to be the one lecturing them, not vice versa. What was she even being attacked for? Irate, she pointed at them. “I know about you two.”

 This stopped their laughter in its tracks. Sylvain’s eyes grew wide, his expression almost comical as he managed an incoherent, “Huh?”

 Even Felix looked shocked. It was a major victory. Ingrid savoured it for a second before she realized exactly what she’d admitted. Immediately, she covered her mouth, but it was too late. The cat was out of the bag. The air grew tense and she wondered if it was too late to step back into the ball and pretend that none of this ever happened. “I…”

 “You knew?” Sylvain finally asked, regaining control of his mouth.

 “Since when?” Felix was as straight to the point as ever.

 Ingrid rubbed her arm, looking away, past the railing and out onto the barely lit gardens. It was strange, she had suspected this for years, but somehow their admission made her heart ache a little. Maybe it was the lies or the loneliness or—she didn’t know. It just hurt. Quietly, she explained, “It’s hard to miss the way you two look at each other sometimes. Or, you know, the way your hands linger.”

 She blushed as she spoke; it felt even more inappropriate to talk about than it had been to witness.

 Amazed, Sylvain stared at her. “And you noticed that?”

 “That’s because I—” Watch you. Fortunately, what little brain power she had left was working right now and she cut herself off before she could embarrass herself further. If she even finished that sentence, she knew how Sylvain would look at her, and then how he’d ask questions she didn’t know the answer of. Clearing her throat, she finished lamely, “We’re close, that’s probably why. I’m sure no one else has noticed.”

 “Who cares?” Felix grumbled, hands in his pocket.

 Their parents, for one, high society, for another. While the nobles were willing to overlook discrete dalliances, anything too obvious would result in blacklisting. And with Sylvain’s penchant to flirt publicly and Felix’s inability to read any room, it was amazing they’d made it through life as it was.

 For tonight, at least, they’d spent all that time dancing with her and not angering their peers. Whether it was out of pity (and her heart twisted again at the thought) or friendship, they’d spent the last few hours keeping suitors off her hands. It was the most fun she’d had at a ball, even if it had also been the most perplexing.

 It was only fair she returned the favour. Clasping her hands in front of her, she offered, “I can keep the balcony empty for you two.”

 “Huh?” Once more, a befuddled Sylvain stared at her.

 “What are you talking about?” Felix asked, his brow furrowed.

 It was strange, knocking them both for a loop a second time, and it threw her off balance too. Resisting the urge to rub her neck, she gestured at the empty space around them. “It’s a nice night, and there’s plenty of room here. I know you can’t dance inside, but the music still reaches here.”

 “Ohhh.” Sylvain’s expression brightened, catching on. He whistled appreciatively. “Nice eye, Ingrid.”

 “What are you going on about—”

 Before Felix could finish his sentence, Sylvain wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him close. “Mmm, yeah, I’ve wanted to do this for a while.”

 “You’re an idiot,” Felix huffed, but he didn’t pull away.

 Her heart tinged again, an inextricable pain. What did she want? It wasn’t this. They were her friends, she should be happy for them, but she didn’t want this. Not trusting herself, she turned around “I’ll keep an eye for a few songs. They won’t miss you for that long.”

 Luckily, her voice remained strong. Maybe later she could figure out how to smile in front of them.

 Before she could open the door, Felix growled, “Where are you going?”

 That was the only warning she got before Sylvain’s soft hand wrapped around her wrist, halting her in place, before Felix’s hand splayed against the door from behind her, pressing on it hard as he kept it shut. Ingrid gave an undignified squeak when she realized she was penned in between the two of them and the doors.

 Every one of Annette’s and Dorothea’s raunchy novels ran through her mind. It was the most inappropriate time for that to happen and did nothing to help her calm her racing heart as she slowly turned to the pair of them. Her cheeks burned a dark red but Ingrid tried to keep her voice as even as possible as she asked, “What are you doing?”

 “Stopping you,” Felix scoffed, still towering over her.

 “I can see that.” Ingrid glared at him. “I mean…” She tried to tug her hand out of Sylvain’s vise-like grip, but he merely grinned, not letting go. “I’m trying to give you some privacy.”

 Sylvain chuckled. “That’s why I called you dense.”

 “Huh?”

 “You got us wrong. Or not entirely right?” He shrugged carelessly as he leaned forward, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. “How could you see how we looked at each other, but miss how we’ve looked at you?”

 “Me?” She swallowed. Certain she was misunderstanding, she glanced at Felix, waiting for him to deny it all in his usual blunt manner. “Felix?”

 “Don’t make me repeat him,” he glowered, his ears a bright pink.

 “Wait…then…” Ingrid’s eyes flickered from Sylvain to Felix and back again as she put together everything that happened tonight. “The dancing…”

 “Well, you deserve a proper courtship,” Sylvain explained, his hand now cupping her jaw. Tenderly, his thumb brushed her cheek. “And we couldn’t let anyone else snatch you up.”

 Felix lowered his hand from the door, his fingers now threading through her long hair. Even without saying a word, she got the message loud and clear.

 It didn’t make sense, really. Even hearing their words, she couldn’t believe. But Ingrid had seen the way they’d look at each other, when they thought no one was looking. Something soft and hungry and more powerful than the sun.

 It was how they were looking at her now.

 “Really?” she asked, not fighting her blush as it spread down her neck and up her ears. Her voice came out softer than she’d intended, shyer.

 If they noticed, they didn’t say anything. Sylvain leaned forward, pressing a kiss against the corner of her lip. “Really,” he answered, and she shivered as his breath warmed her skin.

 “Like we’d do this for any other reason,” Felix grumbled, his finger brushing her ear, sending a jolt of electricity through her.

 Ingrid wasn’t sure what she’d tell her father. Or the nobles. Or anyone, really.

 But that was a tomorrow problem. The door was still closed behind her, the curtains drawn, and the night air cool on her hot skin. For now, all she wanted was a moment to just feel it all, this joy that threatened to burst her heart.

[oopshidaisyy]

July Fic Recs

a little late but here we go!

praying for sparks in the dark (in the heart) by susiecarter "Him," the Bat repeats, in a low and deceptively soft growl. "I don't know who he was," the man says immediately, taking this cue and running with it. "I don't, honest. Honest, I swear to god. Nobody did. He just showed up, that's all. Asking about you, asking everybody what they knew, if they'd ever seen you, what you'd done. Metropolis," the man adds belatedly. "He had that look, you know? Clean. Said his name was—Carr, or Kemp, or something. Something like that." (Or: in a universe where Bruce becomes aware that someone's looking into the Batman, he goes to the effort to track down Clark Kent. It doesn't play out quite the way either of them expected.) Clark/Bruce, 20k, E

having let go forever the fallacy of ever being alone by gyzym This time there are shitty dogeared paperbacks Arthur wouldn't be caught dead reading piled on the coffee table, and half-finished crosswords tucked into the bookshelves, and the far wall is hung with that tapestry they'd bought in a shit part of London on a whim. This time they've spent all day fixing their sink and there's a mug of yesterday's tea sitting on top of the television and it's not just Arthur's living room at all. Arthur/Eames, 16k, E

A Sure Thing by lightgetsin "Okay," Peter says, and there's a rasp in his voice. "Repeat after me: theft is not foreplay." Neal/Peter, 3k, E

perfect strangers by susiecarter Batman and Superman are fucking. Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent are a great cover for fighting crime, and also might be dating. Bruce and Clark have no idea what they're doing; but they definitely aren't going to be able to talk themselves into stopping. Clark/Bruce, 15k, E

run to the river (dive in) by susiecarter MoS AU: With one successful fishing season already under his belt, Clark's finally getting comfortable on the Debbie Sue. He just wishes this guy Dixon hadn't signed on with them, because the way he watches Clark is really starting to give Clark the creeps. (Or: Bruce goes undercover looking for enhanced individuals before BvS instead of after—and finds one.) Clark/Bruce, 5k, M

Took Me By Surprise and Then by thehoyden After the second surgery in New York, Charles doesn’t anticipate anyone keeping vigil by his bedside — and certainly not Tony Stark. Charles/Erik, 5k, T

as to which may be the true by susiecarter It isn't difficult to go on in the wake of Superman's death. His resurrection, though, poses a problem—especially when it turns out there's no such thing as the right moment to explain that Martha Kent's obnoxious billionaire friend? Is also the man who tried really hard to shove a kryptonite spear through Clark's face. Clark/Bruce, 53k, M

Blue Devils by VillaKulla /blo͞o ˈdevəl/ noun, inf: a feeling of despondency, depression, or low spirits origins: Old American West Billy/Goody, 4k, M

Spree by thingswithwings "So, okay, Britta," Annie says, "this thing you gave me is seriously just a scrap of ripped looseleaf that says 'IOU one shopping spree at A Woman's Touch.' I do not even know what that is." Britta does an excited little leap in the air and claps her hands. "It's me deciding to help you discover your true womanhood." Britta/Annie, 4k, E

embroidery appreciation by Annie D Written for an anon on tumblr who requested Natasha and Tony as brotp, or Steve/Tony being schmoopy in love. This is a bit of both. Tony & Nat, 1k, T

and every map is blank by gyzym It's -- topography, Carlos thinks, of a person, of two people, it's so complicated, it's so much easier to just go it by yourself. He doesn't want to hurt Cecil but he doesn't want to keep any part of himself from Cecil, either, and it scares him that that's true, and it scares him to know it's what Cecil wants. Carlos/Cecil, 7k, T

trothplight by arriviste “What a metaphor,” Grantaire said bitterly. “I may dress your windows, but no more. We’ll greet each other in the streets, but you won’t admit me to your chambers or your hearts. I know all the words, all the empty speeches one needs to mouth for membership – I can rattle them off as well as you. Want me to prate Hébert or praise the Supreme Deity? Quote Rousseau or Marat? I can mum them; I don’t, because I don’t mean them, and because I’m an honest sceptic, I’m untrustworthy.” Enjolras/Grantaire, 4k, E

A-Wing, X-Wing, Y-Wait, B-Mine (Please) by ester_inc Finn keeps finding himself in situations where – no, wait, let's start over. Poe keeps ending up shirtless, nearly shirtless, or soaking wet, and somehow Finn is always there when it happens. The universe is either taunting him with what he can't have or rewarding him for good behavior, and Finn can't decide which is more likely. Either way, he's emotionally unprepared for, oh, let's be honest here: Poe's entire existence. It's fine. No big deal. He's working on it. Finn/Poe, 7k, E

Just Give Me Moments by barricadeur Enjolras comes home from a protest to a not-empty apartment. --- "What happened?" Grantaire says. His other hand grips Enjolras's shoulder, as if to keep him from pulling back, but Enjolras is so tired that the energy necessary to break away seems monumental. He lets Grantaire inspect him, says only, "I hit my head." "On someone's fist?" Enjolras/Grantaire, 1k, T

The Rare Gift by triedunture The prompt was "Dean receives an . . . unusual . . . Christmas gift from Castiel." The gift turns out to be wings. Dean/Cas, 4k, M

i love you now like i loved you then (this is the road and these are the hands) by theappleppielifestyle Somewhere in their phone calls after Derry 2.0, Richie and Eddie had decided to finally take that road trip. Richie would fly in from LA, then they’d drive back there from New York. It’ll be just like it could’ve been, Richie had said once. (Or, Eddie and Richie resume.) Richie/Eddie, 6k, M

i guess i should say thanks or some shit believe it or not, charles has a well-thought-out moral philosophy. he doesn’t follow it. but he has thought it out. alternatively: charles and erik douche it up in amsterdam. Charles/Erik, 17k, M

this is your sword, this is your shield by susiecarter Post-BvS, Diana and Lois start to develop a habit of protecting each other. But sometimes habits become ruts, and every now and then it's a good idea to break out of them. (Or: a whole bunch of times Diana and Lois looked out for each other, plus the time Lois ended up feeling like it might be worth it to be just a little less careful.) Diana/Lois, 9k, T

Family Portrait, c. 1840, oil on canvas by littlerhymes Lestat's latest favourite is a painter. Lestat/Louis, 2k, T

get religion quick (cause you’re looking divine) by brinnanza So it was fine. Even if Crowley couldn’t love him, he clearly liked him well enough, and that was almost the same thing. It no doubt would have continued to be fine, or at least fine-adjacent, were it not for a narrowly averted apocalypse and several bottles of a really quite nice Riesling Aziraphale had found in the back room of his newly restored bookshop. Aziraphale/Crowley, 4k, G

[chibivesicle]

Golden Kamuy chapters 247 & 248; Asirpa’s self doubt and how to catch a killer

With the realignment of the factions, yet again, Asirpa is back with Hijikata and his ‘lofty’ goal to establish the Republic of Ezo.

Hijikata leverages as much control as possible by only allowing Asirpa to look at his collection of tattooed skins.  The chapter starts with her inner dialogue as she examines various skins and outlines that there is a rule that is shared between ones that are confirmed to belong to a convict.

She importantly highlights skins that are on still living people as it is the best proof that they were indeed tattooed by Wilk.

She then continues to examine ones that were verified to be legitimate from convicts that Hijikata skinned himself; Sekiya and Youichirou.  All of the paper copies as well are correct.  Things then become interesting as she turns to another skin.

Hijikata explains that it was the skin that Ogata found during the showdown in Barato.  She then immediately questions the authenticity of the skin because Ogata procured it on his own.

She asks Hijikata if he knew who this skin could have belonged to but he’s unable to confirm the convict.  Therefore, Asirpa thinks that Ogata’s skin is untrustworthy.

This is a huge change in attitude by Asirpa towards Ogata.  It is clear that when he lied to her about Sugimoto on the ice floe, she yelled at him that she couldn’t trust anything about him.  He went from someone she could trust and rely on to a complete liar. 

I can only see this as the influence of Sugimoto on her in regard to Ogata.  She’s watched Sugimoto lie to people all the time, but she’s never doubted him.  Yet, now anything Ogata has done is 100% suspect.

But as she analyzes the skin, it follows the unspecified rule.

Therefore, Ogata did indeed procure a legitimate skin though finding the hiding place by lighting the fire and freeing the poor son from his oppressive parents.

She questions the skin that Kantaro got since it does not follow the rule but Hijikata thinks it is real since Tsurumi was after it as well.  She’s unsure of the skin as it doesn’t follow the rule but she at least can read one of the kanji now.  But she’s confused as it can be also read as “u” contributing to the code.

Hijikata thinks the skins that Ogata and Kantarou are legit.  Based on things, it seems Asirpa should go with her gut on the skins and really not worry about the identity of the person who acquired the skins, it is just a detail that will bias her opinion of it.

Hijikata assumes all of the skins that Ariko delivered to them are fake.  That is thinking too simplistically in my own opinion b/c it would be too obvious.  However, that is enough to confuse Asirpa and fill her with doubts as she assumes that Hijikata is telling the truth about something that he can’t actually confirm.

Since, some of the skins follow her rule.  This contradicts Hijikata’s own hypothesis.

This means that she panics as she thinks it can’t be correct and perhaps her father’s name is not the key.  Since the fakes follow her rule.  Honestly, I’m a bit saddened that she doesn’t consider the option that Tsurumi threw real skins in the mix, since he took all of the ones that Sugimoto had in the first place.

I think that Hijikata is manipulating her on purpose.  He wants her to break and just give him the information he’s looking for.  Obviously, Ogata is not Hijikata’s favorite person, but he has enough reason to believe some of the things that Ogata says, since he’s clearly more knowledgeable about Tsurumi than he is.

So, Hijikata goes for the highest pressure tactics by stating Ogata told him that she knows the key to the code.  Her panicked response is more than enough to give him the means to push harder.

She’s nervous and anxious and he wants the code.  Since he can read all of the kanji he certainly can figure it out.

So at that point, she lies.  She has come to doubt her own rule and wants to see all of the skins and know which ones are the fakes before she will trust in herself.

I’m sure Hijikata knows that she’s lying and that she knows the code.  But since she hasn’t told anyone this, there is just a bunch of men who know that she knows but they don’t actually know what it is.

There are then two pages of Tsurumi heading to Sapporo by horse and we get the confirmation what I had already suspected.  That Tsurumi mixed in fake and real skins to try to confuse Hijikata’s team.  So, Asirpa is right, but based on her reaction in this chapter, she’s going to be unsure of her confidence in herself and her ability to decode the skins.

The chapter’s action then turns to all of the boys getting wasted.  I do not understand at all what is going on with Shiraishi and Sugimoto discussing Vasily - Shiraishi is polite enough to inquire about him while Sugimoto thinks he’ll be a magical Ogata repellent.  Sugimoto, do you even understand Ogata?  Nope, b/c Vasily certainly won’t keep him away, he’ll likely just be aware of him now more than ever.

We see again the dis-jointed nature of the group, Ariko sits alone, Sugimoto and Shiraishi are together, Young Kantarou hangs back with Toni, Kadokura and Kirawus are close and Boutarou and Ushiyama are off to the side.

Boutarou asks others what they will do with the gold and their answer aren’t unusual, Ushiyama just wants to fight and Kantarou wants to raise sheep and make lots of money but Shiraishi gives him a hard time.  He is rather hesitant with his reply.  Again, there is an odd interplay between these two indicating that they know each other a bit better, he seems almost surprised by Boutarou’s question and he replies with what he already does . . .

We then get a very thoughtful look from him as he reflects on what he wants. I’m sure our pirate is watching him closely.

Asirpa approaches the isolated and socially distant Ariko to ask him about his father also being killed in regards to the gold.  Ariko tells her that he had no idea that his father would be the type of person to be involved in fighting and collecting the gold.  She then shows the coin to him as she tells him that she does not believe her father killed the other Ainu.  He seems nervous as he looks a the coin - I’m sure he realized something here.

But, we don’t get any info other than stating that Asirpa is truly strong.  Ah man, what will happen to Ariko caught between, Tsurumi, Kikuta and Hijikata?

Nagakura then tries to get all the boys to calm down and go to bed and Sugimoto rages back at him drunkenly.

Usami is out trying to find our killer with his ‘magic’ hand but it is failing him.  Thankfully, our journalist is investigating and he is spotted by Usami, who is getting desperate for a break in the case to not let Tsurumi down.  It is clear that the reporter has figured it out and his conversation with himself is loud enough to attract Usami’s attention.

So of course, he’s in trouble based on Usami’s known skill set.

Chapter 248 starts off with Usami clobbering our morally questionable reporter and the two of them immediately recognize each other.

He needs the info and of course he’s too vain to immediately give up the info for his own story.  Usami begins to beat the crap out of him as he wants the map.  He even tries to eat it to prevent Usami getting the map.  Usami isn’t smooth though when he gives away where he’s from and who he’s working for by using the pistol.  This is likely a mistake on Usami’s part as Hijikata will now know that the 7th is in Sapporo perusing our convict.

He’s able to escape and hide while also tearing up the map.  He knows that he needs to relay this info to Hijikata and he manages to evade capture/horrible pain at Usami’s hands.

“Team” Hijikata is out the next day questioning as many different prostitutes as possible to get more information.  Some think it is a government official trying to target illegal prostitution while the group try to tell women to stay off the streets tonight. 

We also learn that the convict is humming the tune ‘Greensleeves’ and has sharp knives and of course a tattoo. There are some funny bits as the group talk to women and figure out a plan.

Kadokura is holding on to Kirawus’s hand to not fall over as he looks uncomfortable.  Ushiyama tells the women to stay home as they are charmed by him and Nagakura is with a nervous Ariko while he says all of the targeted women were looking for customers while streetwalking.

This is a little bit of humor that seems more fitting that the previous chapter’s drunken Sugimoto antics.  As time runs out the group is unsure what to do, but Nagakura of course finds Ishikawa our obnoxious reporter in rough shape.

He was able to let them know that the 7th is after them and he was beaten up also by the 7th and he pathetically hid in a ditch for which he decided to strip down to his underwear for?  Okay.  The good news is he has figured out that the killer is copying Jack the Ripper and he’s figured out the next murder location!  As his original map was torn up, he got a map of London and used it to overlay with Sapporo.  When they compared the London map with the Sapporo map, they are able to determine the next location in reference to the local church.  The brewery!

We also get the face of our killer finally!

And he appears to not be Japanese, unless we see otherwise; he’s got a fancy mustache with light colored eyes (though Hijikata also has them)  But based on the size of his nose, I would say a foreigner.

I wasn’t not thrilled by the ending where our pervy reporter is called out for his hopes to score a meeting with a famous geisha in Tokyo . . . 

Honestly, I’ve been stuck with meta writing as I’ve been distracted by other things and also the fact that it is dwelling on topics that don’t really interest me much. . . . I’m really ready for this arc to be over and to move forward with the great confrontation of a few of our parties.

[luluwquidprocrow]

welcome home

originally posted: april 5th, 2018

word count: 2,186 words

rated: teen

jacques & kit & lemony

angst, family, VFD, mentions of vfd recruitment, a whole lot of sadness

summary: Everything changes, after Stain'd-by-the-Sea.

opening notes:

jewishsnickets posted this wonderful heartbreaking art and the second I saw it all my fanfic instincts went wild, as if I wasn’t in the middle of writing at least seven other fanfics, and I dropped EVERYTHING to write this super sad fic, and I regret NOTHING

.

The last time I saw my brother, he was smuggling me onto a ship, and we did not know it was going to be the last time we saw each other. The last time before that was at a housewarming, attended by a number of people I had not seen in quite some time, where the woman I loved held my hand with both of hers, and I could believe that everyone in the room, including myself, was fine, a word which here means “had not lived a life of moral uncertainty.” The last time before that was a series of meetings disguised as a lonely teenager sitting on a park bench, flicking the ends of cigarettes that were not actually cigarettes into the nearby bush, to give him information I still tried to believe was worth the effort. The last time before that was not long after I resurfaced from my apprenticeship, when I was having an argument with our sister in the library at headquarters, who had herself recently resurfaced from her own tumultuous apprenticeship.

I had come back to the city with an uneasy but fervent hope about what my siblings and I would discuss. I was fifteen, and I hadn’t seen either of them—to talk to, that is—in three years.

I did not like arguing with my sister. What I did not like more, however, was how much time had changed us. Three years, in the grand scheme of what we call life, is not that long a time. But for a volunteer, it was long enough. It was long enough for one of us to wonder too much. It was long enough for the other to believe she understood.

“If you don’t want to help, fine,” Kit said, keeping most but not all of the irritation out of her voice. “That’s fine, L. But don’t take it upon yourself to interfere regardless.”

“I was not interfering,” I said. “Interfering is a word which here means involving yourself in someone’s business on purpose, and all I did was—”

“All you did was ruin months of research,” Kit snapped. She gestured to the stack of files she'd left on the table in the library, the stack of files on which my teacup had fallen and ruined several pages of ink and photographs. “What's gotten into you?”

I hadn’t intended to drop it. I hadn’t even intended to read my sister’s files. But the moment I caught a glimpse of my sister’s name, as I walked by holding my cup of tea, I stopped, and the moment I caught a glimpse of the content of the files, my hands had started to shake, and before I knew it, the tea was on the papers instead of remaining in my cup like a responsible cup of tea. And then there was my sister, staring at me as if she’d never seen me before, and I remembered what it was like to watch a friend turn into a stranger.

I wanted to think that my sister had, at one point, been the sort of person who would not refer to the young children our organization watched as 'research,’ but I was no longer sure. Part of me wondered if her anger was more because I was responsible for the situation that put Kit in the hands of untrustworthy legal authorities, and a deeper part of me wondered if she would ever forgive me. I reminded myself that Kit was not nearly so petty, but that look had not left her face.

“Nothing's gotten into me,” I said, which ranks high, although certainly not at the top, on the list of unconvincing lies I’ve told in my life.

“Those are volunteers, those are your future associates, and I can’t believe you would recklessly jeopardize their chance to be noble!”

But I would. I had not forgotten what happened when I tried recruiting people I considered my friends into our organization. I was not going to forget what I had done for our organization. I was not going to forget anytime soon. But there was no chance of me admitting that, as long as my sister had that fierce look on her face, as long as we were in a library that had once been a comfort but was now narrowing around me to the point that I wondered how much longer I would be able to look like I was breathing properly.

Kit lowered her hand. “You’re not a child anymore, you know. Your apprenticeship is over. This is what we’re supposed to do.”

“Is it?” I said, struggling to keep my voice level. “Is this what we’re supposed to do?”

“L, you yourself said that we were the true human tradition—”

The words were out before I could stop them. “What if I was wrong?”

Kit stared, almost in disbelief. “A volunteer is never wrong,” she said immediately. “And a Snicket can’t afford to be wrong, either.”

I do not know how I left the room. I know I moved, and I know Kit said something else, and I know I slammed the door, and I know I passed someone in the hallway, but I also know that my vision only became clear again when I made it outside.

The east courtyard was dark and shadowy, which didn’t help the tightness in my chest. I couldn’t see much, and the undeniable darkness reminded me of long, uneasy years spent alone, wondering what would happen to me. I thought about it again, and I still didn’t have the answer. I felt my way over to a bench and sat down. I did not want to look at the stars, so I frowned at the grass instead and thought about breathing until I could think about my sister.

I loved my sister very much. Not only because she was my sister, as you are under no obligation to like your siblings if you do not want to, but because she was my best friend. Before our apprenticeships, we had done a number of things together, from recommending books to breaking into buildings to figuring out puzzles, and had trusted each other over everyone else. She always knew exactly what to say, even when she wasn’t there, and the things she told me made sense.

I could not reconcile the Kit who stood in the library with the sister who promised me she would be there for me. What was worse was that I could not remember a time where my sister and I were not working for our organization. I could not remember a time where we were not, after all was said and done, after everything I wanted to think, volunteers.

I heard a voice behind me.

“Lemony?”

In the coming years, I would learn to keep my back to any available wall, not just so that I could make a quick exit, but so that no one could sneak up behind me. It is uncomfortable for anyone to have someone unknown lingering behind them with equally unknown motives, but I do not think it is too much to say that I in particular found it distressingly horrifying. My blood went cold, and all the air left my lungs again, and I whirled around with the unrealistic but visceral expectation that they had caught up with me.

I did not know who I feared more. Ellington, her question mark eyebrows curled deep around her wild eyes. Her father, his smile unlike the one in his photograph. The Bombinating Beast, its wild, flickering tongue. Moxie, the bandage still on her arm, avoiding my gaze. I did not want to see them. I wanted to be left alone.

It wasn’t any of them.

It was my brother.

He looked very much how I remembered him. He was still taller than I was, with something of Kit in his face and probably something of me. I should have been relieved to see him standing there, to see my brother in person after so long, but I did not know what I felt. There was very little I could feel, besides how fast my heart was beating.

Jacques sat down beside me and smiled, but he couldn’t hide his concern. “Kit said something about research she'd been working on.”

I shrugged, and then I waited. I waited for all the things I expected Jacques to tell me, what I had imagined on the darkest nights of my life. It would be worse than Kit yelling at me, because Jacques wouldn’t yell. Jacques would be quiet, and would ask me, almost kindly, what I was doing, the same way he always asked me, only now the phrase would hold so much weight I wouldn’t be able to take it.

“I don’t think that was her only copy,” Jacques said instead. “I think she was just frustrated, that’s all.”

I should have known. I stared at my hands and told myself I should have known. Not only was my sister truly angry with me, but I had not stopped anything.

“I haven’t seen you in—it must be three years now,” Jacques continued. I could hear a smile in his voice, and that caused me an even deeper misery. “You look a little taller, brother.”

“I hear that’s how it works,” I said. There was something clipped and bitter about my voice, and I regretted it instantly. This was not how I expected either reunion with my siblings to go. It was less than what I had hoped, beyond what I had worried.

Jacques put his hand on my shoulder. “Would you like to talk about it?”

I did not want to talk about it. I did not want to talk about what I had thought of, what I had realized in the past three years, what I had done. I did not want to talk about our sister. I did not want to talk about the thin line between being noble and being a villain, how easy it was to become uncertain, how hard it was to be disappointed in what you trusted, how loss sat around inside you like an unwelcome house guest who ate all your favorite snacks and still kept asking for more.

And yet, I felt I could ask Jacques. I could ask him, more than I could ask Kit. I could look him in the eye and still see my brother there.

“Jacques,” I began quietly, but then I found that there was a sadness in my throat where I usually expected words. Anything I could’ve tried to say would be insufficient. I was too young to be thinking the things I was. I had a feeling that when I was old enough to think them, they still wouldn’t feel right. How could you question the only thing you had ever known? And what were you supposed to do, if you were right?

I looked at my brother, and something shifted in his expression. I suppose I should’ve been comforted in seeing my own indecision reflected back at me on his face, but I was not. I was frightened. I was frightened for my brother, and I was frightened of my brother.

“We do what we have to do,” Jacques said, a tremor in his voice. He swallowed and looked away from me. “We are what we have to be.”

“That doesn’t make it any easier,” I said.

“No,” he whispered.

It was not what I wanted to hear. But it was the only truth we had.

Jacques sighed. “Lemony,” he said, “what do you think of the weather this morning?”

It was not morning. It was, in fact, too late, and at night. The corners of my eyes burned. I was fifteen and I was tired, and Jacques was eighteen and trying to hold the three of us together the only way he knew how.

“Heather?” I said. “We aren’t near any open spaces.”

“Suitcases?” my brother said. “Are you planning a trip? It’s cold this time of year.”

“Limes and cheers? That sounds like a very sour celebration, Jacques.”

We continued the game for some time. A while later, Kit came out and sat beside us, and didn’t say a single word about how inane she thought Beethoven was. We could pretend we were only siblings, not volunteers, with parents who were still alive and merely waiting for us in our house, instead of the unfathomable faces we would have to face when we entered headquarters again, or the ones we would see when we looked in the mirror.

I did not know what else would happen to us. Even after what we’d been through, there was no way any of us could know. My sister had her eyes on something else, and would not look away for a long time; my brother would second-guess his silence; I would not forgive myself, even when given the opportunity.

We were not necessarily happy, in this moment. We were a family, in this moment, and what we did know was that that could not last.

ending notes:

the disconnect lemony must feel from his associates and particularly his siblings after he returns from stain’d-by-the-sea, and the trouble these siblings must have in relating to each other after what they’ve experienced and how they’ve each processed it, is something I think about often and it gets me every time, cats. it might even out, if only a little, when they get older. but right now it sucks.

[lucidescuella]

mellifluous ; javier escuella

first time writing with an OC and i’m really happy with this!! i want to make this an ongoing thing too ☺ i might of made this a little self-indulgent lmao

word count: 1,778

Aurora had always enjoyed the outdoors. There was something so soothing about the smell of fresh grass and the harmony of wildlife around her. She blames her mother for her love of nature due to the fact that their cabin was so small, so all she could do was play outside, but she truthfully didn’t mind. She remembers how she and her older sisters, Amélie and Violet, would run around the grassy fields until they collapsed from exhaustion, usually followed by a fit of giggles. 

Oh, how she missed that old cabin. It was practically falling apart, but her mother had tried her utmost to make it into a home. That old vase that had been in their family for generations was filled with a new set of flowers every week, resting on the middle of the table. Her mother had a consummate hobby of embroidery that she constantly used to decorate. They didn’t have much, but they had each other. At least, for the time being. 

Presently, she’s surrounded by a group of people who Aurora is unfamiliar with, a mix of gazes full of pity and hushed whispers behind her back. She had taken a liking to Mary-Beth and Tilly, who reminded her of her sisters. Karen was a lot to deal with, but not particularly unkind. The men in the camp seemed to avoid her, as she did to them, though she was sure for different reasons. They appeared to be the type to steer clear of comforting someone, most likely because of the awkwardness, while Aurora avoided them because she never really had experiences with men in her life. Though, Hosea was an exception, a warmth in the swarm of cold that she experienced in the past few weeks. 

When a group of men displayed in black hats rode into her line of sight, Aurora had already had a feeling of dread aching through her entire body. She remembered wondering who the hell could these guys be? No one had ever come onto their hidden land of property before. Calling for her mother and immediately grabbing Violet’s hand, everything after that was a cloudy blur of yelling and gunshots that led up to desperately grasping her limp mother close to her chest, witnessing the light draining from her eyes. She remembered the heavy guilt on her shoulders as she watched her sisters get thrown on the back of a horse, riding off in the distance. She knew what those kinds of men did to girls. 

She was an absolute mess when a man named Arthur found her on a trail on the outskirts of Valentine, covered in blood and dried tears. 

Now, she feels weight on her as she runs her fingers through the grass of Horseshoe Overlook, though a part of her is content with the memories playing through her head. The sunrise had just ended, the mix of pinks and oranges fading out to a faint blue. The sound of people starting to wake up and beginning their day overwhelmed Aurora, but she sat still on her spot on the edge of the cliff, shuffling random rocks beneath her. After a while, Tilly had come down to the shore and began to wash clothes, “Hi there, Aurora. Do you mind if I sit here?”

“Of course not, Tilly.”

Tilly sat on the ground next to her and sighed softly, “It’s been a rough couple of weeks. I don’t think we’ve ever been worked this hard by Miss Grimshaw. She starts to yell when I just sit down.”

“Yeah, she seems very...intense.” In all honesty, Aurora was terrified of her and tried to avoid her at all costs. It seemed like anything could and would set her off, but she wasn’t going to admit that to Tilly.

“That’s one word to describe her.”

Footsteps sounded behind the girls, both turning their heads in slight fear thinking that Miss Grimshaw had overheard and was coming to confront them about it, but they were relieved to see Javier Escuella with a mug of coffee in his hand and a soft smile on his face, “Miss Jackson, Miss Everett. How are you ladies doing today?” 

Tilly returned the smile, “We’re just fine, Mister Escuella. Got any plans for today?”

“Oh, you know, rob a stagecoach, get some leads. Try to keep busy.”

“Same old, same old.” 

Javier chuckled and nodded, turning his head to Aurora who was interested in the ground all of a sudden. She felt like she was intruding on a conversation between two obvious friends, and frankly she just felt that she wasn’t wanted there by most. Little did she know that Javier was intrigued in the mystery that was Aurora Everett. As soon as he caught sight of her striking red, wavy hair and piercing blue eyes that held a substantial amount of pain, he knew that he had to get to know her more. The whole gang had known what had happened to her and had taken some sort of pity on her, though that didn’t get in the way of them making it clear that if she wanted to stay, she would need to do some type of work to earn her keep. 

She had understood, but that didn’t stop her from dreading it.

Javier could see that the girl was feeling closed off from the group and decided to take action. After all, when he first joined the group, Dutch did everything he could do to make him feel welcome. “Miss Everett? Since Sean has been rescued, we’re throwing a little party tonight in celebration. Maybe you’d want to join us.”

Aurora felt a little scared of the spotlight put on her, but she pushed it down as best to her abilities, “Uh, what do you do at these kinds of parties?”

“We drink a little, sing songs. It’s not a huge thing, but it’s a lot of fun.”

“I-...sure. I’ll join...”

“Great! Can’t wait. I’ll see you guys tonight.”

Tilly waved a goodbye at the man before smiling at Aurora, “I can’t wait for tonight! Maybe you’ll even feel up to singing a song of your own.”

Though she knew that Tilly was teasing her, her heartbeat picked up, “O-oh, I don’t think so. I don’t think I’m ready for all of that.”

“Oh, of course. We can just lie low, if you want. I would avoid Karen if you want to do that, though.” 

By the time night rolled around, Aurora was done with the list of chores given to her by Mary-Beth. She was exhausted and really didn’t feel up to a party anyway, but she figured that she was going to be around these people for a while, and needed to make good trust with them. Maybe that trust will start with this party. Dutch’s gramophone was blasting through the camp just before the party started, and while she enjoyed the reminded memory of her very own gramophone back home, she didn’t favor the choice of opera that Dutch seemed to like. 

Finally people started to gather, and she sat with a woman named Sadie Adler who was also rescued by the gang. As horrible as it sounds, she was almost relieved to have someone who could relate to her, to not feel alone. She really couldn’t tell if Sadie appreciated her there or not, but she didn’t say anything, so she assumed it was alright. Aurora had heard from Abigail that her husband died at the hands of a group called the O'Driscolls, known for their violent actions against, well, everyone. Part of her suspected that this was the group who was responsible for the death of her mother and the taking of her sisters, but she refrained from asking questions, more so because she didn’t know if she could get through the story without breaking down completely. 

Javier had seen her sit away from the group, clearly wanting to keep a distance. He wasn’t going to force her to join everyone, who was a little more rowdy tonight due to the fact that this was their first celebration in awhile, but he did want to try to get her to open up more. He bid a goodbye to the men gathered around the campfire and grabbed his guitar, searching for the girl he was, for some reason, interested in. He thinks it’s something about the way she appeared almost like a ghost. Where Sadie Adler slowly mourned the loss of her husband, Aurora efficiently worked the day along and kept to herself, usually with a blank look on her face. Almost like she wasn’t there. 

 He took a seat next to her on the outer part of camp. She jumped a bit when she was abruptly knocked out of her train of thought, Javier holding out a hand to try to calm her down, “Lo siento, querida. Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

The redhead sighed in alleviation, “No, it’s fine. My fault.”

Javier jerked his head to the side, displaying confusion, “How is that your fault?”

“I don’t know. I zone out a lot.”

“Well, that’s hardly your fault, querida. I noticed you weren’t at the party, any reason why?”

Oh, god. Aurora thought. They’re going to think that I’m distant and untrustworthy, if they don’t think that already. 

“Um, yeah. Sorry, I just really didn’t feel up to it, I guess.”

Javier nodded, and brought up his guitar to rest in his lap. He glanced at her and found her already looking at him, quickly breaking the gaze, settling it on the sight of her fidgeting with her hands. A warmth crept into his chest, a soft smile visible on his face, “If it’s alright, I would like to play here. I could do without the drunk payasos around.”

“Yeah, that’s alright.”

And with the sound of a mix of people slurring drunkenly and some heading off to bed, it all faded with the soft strumming of Javier’s guitar. An unknown melody had flooded her ears and she hesitantly snuck a look at him, contentment seeming into her veins. She hadn’t felt that in what seemed like an eternity. He had felt the stare of the girl and glanced up, meeting her gaze, and throwing a small smirk at her.

While Aurora had a long way to go to feel okay again, she couldn’t deny the comfort she felt with the man next to her.

lo siento, querida: i’m sorry, darling

querida: darling

payasos: clowns (male)

i used google translate like an idiot, so please tell me if you notice anything inaccurate!!

[lizzzybooo]

Your Mess Is Mine

Summary: “I know what you’re thinking,” he said with a serious tone, catching Dan off guard.

“Do you?” honestly, it wasn’t that hard to guess.

“Yes. You’re thinking that this hat totally clashes with everything else I’m wearing, and you’re not wrong.” He was looking at Dan with round, shiny eyes. Dan blinked at him a few times, dumbstruck.

——————————— A university!au where Dan is a third year student dealing with demons from his past, and Phil is the peculiar guy from his Greek mythology class who he just can’t quite get out of his mind.

warnings: mention of suicide (not discussed in detail), Minor Character Death

read on ao3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12640926/chapters/56116090

also check out the amazing art @ninapons made for this fic!! hereand here and here

chapter 15

words for this chapter : 5k 

total word count:  58409

notes: so... yeah haha i’m back! sorry for the (unreasonably long) wait guys, i hope some of you are still interested in this story ^.^ a huge thank you to @honeywreath for the moral support <3 she’s as aweet as they get <333 also as i’m really nervous posting this, i would really appreciate your feedback, so please tell me what you think! and... hope you like it lol 

read last chapter here

start at the beginning

For the first time in his life, Dan was grateful for exam season.

The days went by in a blur, meshing together while he was trying to focus all his energy on studying and passing his exams, instead of his unanswered calls and messages.

Ezra was finally back from the holidays, dividing his time between their dorm room and the library (as it turned out, Ezra’s uncle refused to take him back to work at the shop, even with his mother’s insistence, so Ezra was still out of a job and apparently pretty stressed about the whole thing).

Dan found that he actually preferred the times they were both in their room together to the times when Ezra would disappear to the library to study. Ezra wasn’t big on conversations, and honestly they didn’t have a lot in common either way, but even so, having a constant presence of someone familiar next to him brought Dan a surprising amount of relief. Ezra was constantly making some kind of noise, clicking his tongue or sighing loudly when he couldn’t get something right, filling the room with sounds and liveliness. And even though it used to drive Dan crazy, he started taking comfort in those sounds, in the knowledge that someone else was present in the room with him, welcoming the distraction. (Dan briefly wondered if it was a result of Phil’s never ending chatter that made him suddenly uncomfortable with silence, but he pushed the thought away quickly, not liking the way it made his heart clench painfully).

After a few days of feeling uneasy every time he was left alone in their room, Dan even started following Ezra to the library whenever he went (a fact that made Ezra unbelievably flustered and surprised the first few times, before getting used to the new arrangement). As it turned out, Ezra (like Dan) didn’t have a thriving social life, and more often than not spent his time studying by himself, so Dan didn’t really feel bad for intruding.

They studied next to each other in silence, each of them focused on their own laptop and books, and sometimes, when they both needed a break and a change in scenery, even went out to eat lunch together or drink coffee (though Ezra always stuck to tea, mumbling how coffee wasn’t good for his still growing body).

They usually sat opposite each other in the campus cafeteria, sharing the occasional word, but mostly Ezra kept his nose stuck in one of his textbooks, mumbling to himself, while Dan just stared at him absentmindedly, drinking his coffee or eating his sandwich.

It was on one of those coffee breaks that Dan noticed, to his surprise, that Ezra was actually quite handsome. It was an odd thought that popped into his mind suddenly, and it made Dan feel a little embarrassed, a little ashamed, that he never considered Ezra anything close to handsome before. If he was being honest with himself, Ezra’s odd personality and awkward behavior never let Dan look at him as anything other than his strange roommate.

But, he had to admit, Ezra was actually pretty good looking. Not in a flashy way, no- Dan didn’t think he would have noticed him or payed any extra attention to him if they have met somewhere outside their small dorm room (even if he didn’t know about his weird Beethoven obsession.) But even so, he had a nice, quiet kind of appeal to him.

He was two years younger than Dan, 19, and his face was still pretty boyish and soft (not unlike his own). He wasn’t as tall as Dan, but he definitely wasn’t short, and Dan had to admit his hazel eyes had a nice, cat like shape to them that he quite liked.

“You should get a different haircut,” Dan told him out of the blue, making him lift up his eyes and look at him in surprise.

“Excuse me?”

“Your hair, I think you should try having it a little longer, it would suit your face.”

Ezra was staring at him with wide eyes, pink coloring his freckled cheeks. Definitely cute, Dan thought.

“I always had it like this,” he said, his hand subconsciously moving up to the top of his head, petting his short trimmed hair.

Dan smiled, amused. “Of course you had,” he said, laughing when Ezra turned his face from him in annoyance, always quick to get offended by Dan’s teasing. “You have a pretty face though, I think longer hair would look good on you, but there’s nothing wrong with the way it is now,” he tried to say reassuringly, stopping himself from laughing more when Ezra’s face became unbelievably red and his eyes blew even wider.

“I don’t have a- a pretty face!” he protested, as if Dan threw an insult his way instead of paying him a compliment.

“Just my opinion mate,” Dan said, raising his hands in surrender, watching in amusement the way Ezra was avoiding his eyes pointedly.

He was quiet for a minute, looking stubbornly at his textbook before finally peeking at Dan. “You actually think I have a pretty face?” he asked, sounding suspicious and a little accusing, and all Dan could do to ignore that little painful pinch of Deja vu was nod. (Phil’s sweet, timid voice, asking him “do you think I’m cute?” while sitting on top of him, face pink but eyes a little mischievous, was the last thing he wanted to think about at that moment.)

“I do,” he confirmed, taking another sip from his coffee mug.

Ezra looked conflicted for a moment, looking between his book and Dan. “But… don’t you have a boyfriend?” he asked.

Dan almost choked on his coffee, coughing awkwardly. “I do,” he said, ignoring the way his heart dropped to his stomach at the mere thought of Phil being called his boyfriend. they were still together, Dan told himself, even if Phil was ignoring him, he was (almost) sure of that. “I wasn’t… hitting on you,” he said carefully, feeling his own cheeks heat up.

“Oh, of course!” Ezra said, looking so embarrassed Dan genuinely felt bad, trying to think of something to say to make the mortified expression on Ezra’s face disappear. He wasn’t sure how many people had ever expressed any interest in Ezra, and he was generally a pretty awkward guy, so really, he couldn’t blame him for jumping to this kind of conclusion, as unlikely as it may seem to Dan.

Also, Dan thought, maybe his comment wasn’t as casual as he thought. Maybe he actually said something weird. Maybe, he thought, a little horrified, after spending all his time with Phil and Martyn, he started to forget what was actually socially acceptable to say to a person you’re not all that close with.

Before he had the chance to say anything though, Ezra continued, his cheeks still red and his voice a little nervous. “It’s just that… you’ve been spending all your time with me since I came back. I don’t even have to tell you to stop talking on your phone at night anymore, so I thought maybe you guys, you know, broke up.”

Dan had the immediate desire to loudly protest. To defend his relationship, to get angry at Ezra for assuming. But he caught himself in time, taking a big breath. Truthfully, he himself wasn’t sure what was going on between him and Phil.

Dan felt like since Christmas, they’ve made a huge progress in their relationship. They talked openly about their lives and past, they expressed desire to have each other in their futures and Dan was serious in his conversation with Phil’s dad, he wanted to be there for Phil, always, to support him and make him happy. He wanted to trust him and trust their bond, but still, it was hard to do when he couldn’t stop the feeling of rejection from seeping into his body.

It hurt, to put it simply. It hurt and it frustrated Dan to no end and it made him a little angry. He gave Phil every reason to trust him, he gave him all that he could, more than he ever gave anyone before, and even though he wanted to be understanding, wanted to give Phil his space, he also wanted to get some kind of a sign. A sign that even in all this, Phil was still thinking of him too, that Phil could trust him with his grief, that they could share each other’s misfortunes instead of hiding away. That Dan wasn’t wrong in assuming they both felt the same way about each other.

More than anything though, Dan knew, even if he was more than a little irritated, that what he really wanted was to hold Phil and comfort him and be there for him. It made his heart ache to know that when Phil was at his lowest, it wasn’t Dan’s company that he sought out. It made him frustrated, upset, that when he finally decided to give himself to someone again, to give Phil all he could, Phil was pulling away with no warning. It made his heart ache, because he knew all too well what the possible result of not being trusted enough with another person’s pain could lead to, and even though he knew he was projecting, he couldn’t make his mind stop spinning with these thoughts.

Was he really that untrustworthy? Was he really someone the people closest to him couldn’t rely on?

“He’s going through some family stuff right now, but we’re still together,” Dan said, a little sharply. He definitely didn’t want to open the subject up for discussion.

“Oh,” Ezra said, looking back at his book “okay then.” He tried to regain his composure, but his cheeks were still pink and Dan knew he was extremely uncomfortable with the whole situation. Even so, he didn’t say anything else, letting Dan finish his coffee before returning with him to the library.

That night, when Dan couldn’t fall asleep, he put on a compilation of Beethoven’s finest for the second time since starting to live with Ezra, playing it loudly on his laptop speakers, ignoring the sparkle of hazel eyes staring at him from the other side of the dark room.

He lied back down on his bed, turned around to face the wall. “Don’t get used to it,” he said, his tone coming out more annoyed than he intended, and he cursed himself quietly.

To his surprise, he heard an unfamiliar chuckle coming out from the other’s bed, a soft airy sound that Dan was pretty sure he’d never heard Ezra make before. “I won’t,” he said, before Dan let himself close his eyes and let his mind be filled with the music, trying to push the intrusive thoughts away.

**********************************

Phil didn’t turn up to their Greek Mythology exam. Dan scanned the exam hall 3 times, his eyes shooting up to the entrance door every time a new student walked in, but he couldn’t spot the familiar blue eyes and black hair anywhere.

He had to finally give up, a sour taste in his mouth, when the doors where closed and the exam started, leaving his mind desperately trying to focus on the questions before him while his chest was clenching uncomfortably.

He got up from his seat half an hour before the time was up, knowing full well his answers were just good enough to pass the exam and nothing more. He ignored the misplaced envious glances from the other students and quickly got out the door, leaning against the nearest wall, trying to calm his heart down.

Phil wasn’t Oliver. He told himself. He wasn’t he wasn’t he wasn’t.

Dan had to trust him to be okay, he had to. Not because he was sure of it, no, but because at that point, there was nothing else he could do.

****************************************

Two week into January Dan got a phone call from Ezra. It was one of the rare times Dan wanted to be by himself, deciding to go walk around town one evening to buy some stuff he told himself he desperately needed for no other reason other than to distract himself.

He was desperately clinging to his exams, going to the library with Ezra and searching the campus hopefully whenever he was there. Neither Phil nor Martyn were answering his calls and texts, and when he tried going to their apartment one time, it seemed that nobody was even there. He wanted to respect their wishes to be left alone with their mourning, and he didn’t want to intrude, but he just needed, so badly, to know they were okay.

His chest was in a constant state of a dull ache, his mind hazy from useless exam information and worry, but he had to admit, walking around from shop to shop in the chilly January air was making him feel surprisingly better.

He was sitting in a coffee shop, looking outside the window and observing the people walking by while eating his lunch when his phone vibrated in his pocket.

Without his permission, his heart leaped in his chest in expectation. No one aside from Phil, and occasionally his mother, ever called him (and since he had an awkward, six minute talk with his mother the day before that consisted of him avoiding all her questions and telling her he was too busy studying, he was pretty sure it couldn’t be her).

But when he took out his phone and saw Ezra’s caller ID, he couldn’t mask his disappointment, even though he wasn’t really expecting Phil to call him at this point.

“Hello? Dan?” Ezra said the minute Dan picked up the call, sounding hesitant and urgent at the same time, making Dan’s heart speed up again in expectation.

“What’s up?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant, but something in Ezra’s voice was making him feel on edge, making him start to pick up his things absentmindedly, not bothering finishing his half full cup of coffee. Somehow, he had a feeling what this was about.

“Hmm, I’m outside our room right now, and your, uh, Phil, came here a few minutes ago. I told him that you’re out but he insisted on waiting for you, so he’s inside now, I hope that’s okay.”

Dan was already outside the coffee shop when Ezra finished his sentence, feeling his heart beating loudly in his chest, making his way quickly to the bus stop. “Yeah, that’s okay. Thank you, I’m on my way back now,” he said, not able to mask his urgency. “Can you just… can you make sure he doesn’t leave before I get there?” he added.

Ezra let out a distress noise. “He, uh, doesn’t look like he’s going anywhere,” he said, sounding so uncomfortable from the whole situation that Dan even started to feel bad for him.

“What do you mean?”

“He just… he looks like he’s planning to stay here, until you come, at least.”

Ezra’s vague answer did nothing but put Dan even more on edge. “Just… stay there, please, until I get back. I’ll be there soon,” Dan said, before hanging up the phone, not letting Ezra have a chance to respond.

Dan wasn’t sure what to think. A mixture of relief, confusion and anger was swirling in his stomach, making him feel a little car sick on the bus ride back. Logically, Dan knew he shouldn’t be that upset. It was only two weeks. Two weeks after a big, heartbreaking loss, and if Phil wanted to take a step back and be by himself a little, to proses, how could Dan hold it against him?

But still. The radio silence from both Phil and Martyn, Phil not showing up for his exam, practically disappearing completely… could anyone really blame him for finding it alarming? Dan knew, better than most people, that he had no way of knowing what people actually think. What they would actually do. He felt powerless and terrified, so even though he understood, he couldn’t blame himself for the way his palms were sweating with nerves, his heart racing in his chest, his stomach filling with angry, fluttering butterflies he couldn’t force to calm down.

He couldn’t blame himself for feeling the strange combination of longing and bitterness settle in his guts. He wanted an explanation, maybe almost as much as he wanted to hold Phil in his arm again.

******************************

When Dan got to his dorm room he didn’t quite know what to expect, but still, the scene in front of him managed to catch him by surprise.

Ezra was standing awkwardly at his side of the room, watching Dan’s bed with carful, uncertain eyes. On Dan’s bed there was a big, human size lump under the covers, showing no signs of movement nor letting out any kind of sound.

Dan felt his heart clench at the unmistakable sight of Phil, curled up hiding under the blankets. He felt weirdly uncomfortable, awkward, not knowing how to approach this silent version of Phil after two weeks of chasing any kind of communication.

“Phil?” he tried saying, legs stuck to their place by the door, heart speeding up at the lack of answer. The slight movement under the covers was the only indication Phil was actually there, acknowledging Dan’s presence.

Dan felt something tight in his stomach loosening, just a bit. It’s fine, he’s here, he’s fine, he told himself, finally finding the will to move his legs and approach the bed.

He sat down at the edge, carefully and slowly, as if we was approaching a scared animal and not his boyfriend he hadn’t seen in two weeks, gently laying his hand on where he assumed Phil’s shoulder was.

“Phil,” he tried again, voice soft and a little pleading, sliding his hand up the blanket, moving it a bit to reveal the top of Phil’s head.

Phil was still silent, but he moved to curl around himself even more, trying to hide his head under the covers again.

“Phil,” Dan leaned down, his upper body covering Phil, mouth near his hidden ear.

There was silence again for a moment, but just when Dan was about to actually start panicking, Phil finally spoke.

“Do you hate me?”

His voice was small, sad, muffled by the pillow and blanket, but even so, just hearing it sent something sharp and quick through Dan’s chest. Something like longing, and want, and relief.

“No,” he answered, pressing himself even closer to Phil, who was still clinging to the blanket like it was the only thing that could protect him from Dan’s wrath. Dan wanted to laugh, almost as much as he wanted to cry. As if he could ever want to do anything other than hold Phil close and cherish him. As if Dan could ever actually hate him.

“Are you mad?” Phil asked, voice a little stronger, wiggling a little under Dan’s weight.

“A little,” Dan answered honestly. He was, and he didn’t want to hide that from Phil. He was mad and hurt and confused, and he wanted Phil to know that. He needed Phil to understand that even though he could never hate him, he was still upset about being left behind, being left to worry and speculate.

“I mostly worried about you,” he added, when Phil stayed silent, and then when he was sure Phil won’t flinch away anymore, he reached his hand to the visible top of Phil’s head, tugging on his hair.

There was a sudden movement under the blankets and before Dan could register what was happening, Phil was turning around under him, throwing himself on Dan’s lap, arms squeezing Dan’s waist tightly.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry,” he said against Dan’s stomach, voice muffled and watery. Dan let out a shaky breath, letting his hands settle on Phil’s shoulders, rubbing them soothingly.

“Um,” Dan almost jumped at the sudden sound coming from the other side of the room, turning his head to look at Ezra (who he completely forgot about), still standing in the corner of the room, looking extremely uncomfortable. Dan’s hold on Phil’s shoulders tightened instinctively, afraid that the reminder of the presence of someone else in the room would make him retreat again. But Phil didn’t respond to the sound at all, staying still, curled around Dan’s middle.

“I, eh, can go out for a bit,” Ezra said, rubbing his neck awkwardly. Dan was suddenly filled with gratitude towards his odd, kind roommate, who tolerated his moping and company and moods, and stayed in the room until Dan got there as he asked, even though it clearly made him uncomfortable.

“Thank you,” Dan said, softly, smiling at Ezra and making him flush bright red in response. Ezra nodded once, before moving from his spot by the wall to put on his shoes and quietly exit the room.

Dan let his attention go back to Phil, who was silently clinging to him and giving no signs of letting go any time soon. “I’m sorry,” Phil said again, a little more clearly, lifting his face a little to look at him, chin digging uncomfortably into Dan’s stomach.

His face was pale, even paler than usual, and his eyes were pink and wet behind his glasses even though he didn’t cry. He looked… tired, devastated, uncertain. And Dan was once again overwhelmed by the need to take all the pain away for him, to somehow make it all better.

“I know,” he said quietly, hand moving from Phil’s shoulder to his head, pushing his messy hair back. He wanted to say “it’s okay,” or, “you don’t have to be,” but he couldn’t. He couldn’t lie. It wasn’t okay, and Phil should be sorry, at least a little, for leaving Dan like he did. For making him sick with worry and speculation, for making him relive his biggest fears and insecurities.

“I was really scared,” he said instead, surprised to find his voice thick and tight with emotion. “I didn’t know where you were,” his throat felt like it was closing up around the words, making everything inside him burn painfully. “I wanted to respect your grief and I wanted to give you your time but I was so scared that… that-“ he couldn’t finish the sentence, couldn’t say it out loud. Two weeks of anxiety and loneliness and fear where catching up to him all at once, and it was too much for him to take after refusing to let himself think about it, trying to stop his mind from wandering into forbidden territories.

Phil moved urgently then, sitting up in front of Dan on his knees, eyes big and blue and regretful. He reached out with both his hands, cupping Dan’s cheeks, thumbs brushing the wetness Dan didn’t even realize was leaking out of his eyes. The cold, soft hands felt so familiar against his warm skin and Dan found himself leaning into the touch.

“Dan,” he said, and his voice was so pained it made Dan’s inside feel even tighter. “I would never do that to you.” Dan gave a small sound of protest, before he could stop himself, and Phil shook his head, leaning closer and pressing their foreheads together. “I know you hate when I say things like that, I’m sorry. But I wouldn’t I wouldn’t.” Phil was crying too now, fat tears running down his tired face, “I wouldn’t.”

“Okay,” Dan said, because he didn’t know what else to say, and wasn’t sure he could even produce a longer answer with the burning pain in his throat.

Phil let his hands slide down to Dan’s neck, pressing his face closer to him, nuzzling his cheek. Dan felt his own arms wrap around Phil’s waist instinctively, without his permission, holding him close.

“I needed… I don’t know exactly what I needed, I’m sorry.” Phil said against his cheek, quietly, softly, ”but I love you too much Dan, I love you, I would always want to come back to you.” Dan’s heart was beating loudly in his chest, Phil’s words screaming in his head. I love you I love you. It was so typical of Phil, to just say it like that, straightforward and honest.

“that is… if you still want me, of course,” Phil said, letting his hands fall down from Dan’s neck and scooting back a little to look him in the eyes, looking like he was genuinely scared to hear Dan’s answer. As if there was any way Dan wouldn’t want him anymore.

“I do, I do, of course I do,” Dan found himself say urgently, desperately, leaning closer and kissing Phil’s forehead and cheeks and eyelids. “You idiot, as if I would not.” Phil giggled at that, small and wet and a little sad, but Dan could feel his entire body fill with warmth at the sound.

“I just… please, just let me be there, for you, with you. That’s all I want, for you to let me be there, don’t leave me in the dark like that,” he said, clutching Phil’s sides tightly. “I know, I know I’m not good for a lot, but I’ll do anything for you, if you let me. Please trust me a little more, to be there.” He could feel the vague feeling of embarrassment, making his stomach flutter uncomfortably. It was still new to him, saying things so honestly, so openly, but Dan figured they needed a little honesty right now. Needed to put their cards on the table and hearts on their sleeves and tell each other what they wanted.

Phil shook his head in protest, “you’re good, you’re good,” he said, hands moving back to Dan’s face “you’re so, so good.” Phil leaned in, but stopped himself before his lips touched Dan’s. “Can I? Or, I mean-“

Dan didn’t let him finish, closing the space between them. Phil’s lips where unusually dry and chapped, and they both tasted salty from their tears, but it still made everything inside Dan’s body melt with relief. They kept it sweet, not pushing for more, and when Phil pulled away and pressed his forehead against Dan’s lips, demanding as always, Dan kissed the skin almost giddily, pulling Phil impossibly closer against his body.

“I’m so tired,” Phil said, leaning all his weight on Dan’s body, like all his energy drained out of him at that moment, all at once.

“You want me to take you home?” Dan asked, rubbing soothing circles on Phil’s back. There was still a lot to say, a lot to ask and a lot to understand. But it could wait. Right now, he just needed to worry about Phil. he just needed to take care of him, as much as he’ll let him.

Phil shook his head, pressing closer to Dan. “No, please, just… let me stay here, just tonight. Tomorrow we’ll do whatever you want, we’ll talk about whatever you want, but I can’t go back there right now.”

“Yeah... that’s… okay,” he couldn’t help but think about poor Ezra coming back to the room later to find him and Phil sleeping there in the same bed, the poor guy would probably combust on the spot. But he couldn’t say no to Phil. Not when he was like this, not when he knew how hard it was to be surrounded by all the things that remind you of your loss.

They moved to make themselves comfortable under the covers, not bothering to change clothes or turn off the light. It was probably not later than nine, but Dan could already see Phil’s eyelids dropping as he took off his glasses and put them on the nightstand. Dan felt too full of nervous energy to sleep, but he wanted nothing more than to lay there together, with Phil in his arms, for as long as he wanted him to.

Phil laid his head on Dan’s chest, cuddling close, letting himself be wrapped in Dan’s embrace.

“Hold me tighter,” he mumbled, and Dan couldn’t help but laugh, tightening his hold.

“Better?” he asked, but only got a soft hum in response, and then nothing. Dan lay there quietly, listening to Phil’s breath as he fell asleep. He still felt a little uneasy, a little on edge, but he supposed, for now, this was good enough.

Ezra came back to the room about 40 minutes later, when Dan was just starting to doze off. He opened the door quietly, carefully, his eyes scanning the room and landing on Dan’s bed. He averted his gaze immediately, face flushing bright red, still standing at by the door.

“Sorry,” Dan said, trying not to wake Phil up, feeling genuinely bad for making Ezra uncomfortable. “It’s just for tonight, he had nowhere else to go.” It wasn’t really the truth, but it was easier to put it like that, in hopes that Ezra would understand.

“It’s fine,” Ezra said, moving into the room and not looking at Dan’s direction. Dan wasn’t sure it was really fine, but he had no choice but to take it, hoping he could make it up to him at some point.

“Thank you, really,” Dan said quietly, trying to convey how actually grateful he was. Ezra’s face became an even brighter shade of red, if possible. He moved to lay down on his own bed, over the covers, back facing Dan.

They were silent for a few moments before Ezra spoke again. “Are you guys okay now?” he asked voice a little muffled against his pillow, catching Dan by surprise.

Dan looked down at Phil’s sleeping face, lips parted and a little bit of drool smeared against the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah,” he said, feeling all his different emotions swirling in his head, making him dizzy. “We will be.”

[berenshand]

pLease talk about why benedick and claudio are foils!! i’ve only just gotten into much ado and i’m thirsty for analysis 👀👀

hoooo eee you opened a can of worms here my friend. there is literally nothing i would rather talk about than this. im so sorry i am not kidding when i say i wrote an essay in response to this

Ok so, a big theme in Much Ado is realistic vs idealized love, and there’s also a lot of generalizations about love, but Claudio and Benedick generalize about love in totally opposite ways. At the beginning of the play, Claudio sees Hero and immediately thinks ‘she is beautiful and I would like to marry her’. Sure, he’s seen her before, but he was distracted because he was, you know, about to go to war, but in the first scene, he tells Don Pedro that he “liked her ere I went to wars.” Like, he didn’t realize he was in love with her til after, but it was love at first sight.

Claudio, through the whole play, is idealistic – he wants everything to be perfect, to be black and white. There is no room for ‘maybe’ in his character (which, unfortunately means he does not use his brain cells). When he talks about Hero, he almost always talks about her beauty or her chastity. He’s focused on the superficial, and he’s hyperbolic (almost like Romeo). He’s trying really hard to be the perfect courtly lover stereotype – he can’t just say ‘Hero is beautiful’, oh no, he has to say “she is the sweetest lady that ever I looked on”. Benedick even says Claudio used to speak “plain and to the purpose” but now his words are “fantastical”. So Claudio is way over the top.

Claudio expects everything to be perfect. Another big theme in the play is appearance vs reality. Claudio thinks that because Hero looks perfect, she must be perfect, and Claudio seems to be incapable of interpreting things beyond the surface-level, which is foreshadowed when he sees Don Pedro with Hero. He literally planned this with Don Pedro, but as soon as Don John and Borachio show up and say ‘oh by the way, DP’s in love with Hero’, Claudio’s like ‘damn, Don Pedro must be in love with Hero’. Y’all know Shakespeare loves a soliloquy, and Claudio does get one here, but it isn’t a ‘hm should I listen to Don John who is notoriously untrustworthy’ soliloquy, it’s a ‘well I guess Don Pedro screwed me over’ soliloquy. Claudio sees/hears something, has no evidence to contradict it and says ‘well, that must be true’. He doesn’t look for counter evidence or take Don John’s character into account. He’s gullible, black-and-white, and idealistic. If someone says something he can’t, for a fact, disprove, it must be true.

Later, when he accuses Hero, he says, “O Hero, what a Hero hadst thou been, / If half thy outward graces had been placed / About thy thoughts and counsels of thy heart!” He’s finally learned that people aren’t always what they seem, but HE LEARNED IT FROM THE WRONG PERSON because he always sticks with his first impression, instead of like, trusting the person he loves and wants to marry. His first instinct was to believe Don John at the party that Don Pedro isn’t a loyal friend, and a few scenes later, to believe Hero isn’t a loyal fiancée. His trust is completely based on perfection: he wants people to be perfect, and when they aren’t, he doesn’t just like. move on. He completely goes off the rails. In the party scene, he’s furious with Don Pedro, which makes him snap at Benedick and storm off in a huff (meanwhile Benedick is stood there like ????????????), and when he accuses Hero, he can’t just do it quietly. Like Beatrice complains, he waits til they are in church in front of God and everybody and completely destroys her life. He learns one negative thing about her and her perfection is destroyed and he will never love again.

Benedick, on the other hand, does not believe in love at first sight. He doesn’t believe in love at all. Nearly every single one of his lines in the first scene is him complaining about love. He says every man who marries will eventually “wear his cap with suspicion”. (This means married men have to wear caps to cover up their cuckold horns – Elizabethans had a sort of… urban legend that if your wife cheated on you, you would grow horns). So Benedick is basically saying ‘women will never be faithful’ (the irony of this is apparent later when Balthasar sings “men were deceivers ever”). However, Benedick also says a lot of stuff about being a ladies man??? He’s very inconsistent – the whole ‘appearance vs reality’ thing comes up with him too bc its like he really doesn’t want people to think he’s interested in romantic love but he also really wants them to think he can Get It. Who is the real Benedick????? We don't really know bc he keeps swapping personalities. Personally I think it’s interesting how Shakespeare seems to like flipping the connotations we expect… in Romeo and Juliet, he gives day a negative connotation and night a positive one, which is almost unheard of in western literature, and in Much Ado, the consistent character (Claudio, who is consistently gullible and idealistic) is a much less positive character then the inconsistent one (Benedick, who has no clue what he is doing ever).

A few scenes later, Benedick is in the garden complaining about how men make fun of other men who fall in love, then become the exact thing they’re complaining about by falling in love “and such a man is Claudio”. He goes on to say he will never fall in love (methinks he doth protest too much), but if he does the woman he loves will be perfect in every way. On the surface, it sounds like he has high standards, but what he’s really saying is ‘I will never marry because no such woman exists’ (not unlike Beatrice saying a man with no beard is too young for her but a man with a beard is too old – she’s saying she won’t marry because there is no such man in between – you either have a beard or you don’t). Benedick is an idiot, but not that kind of idiot. He knows the perfect woman doesn’t exist. Where Claudio is idealistic, Benedick is realistic.

……and then like one page later, he hears his friends say Beatrice loves him and he goes ‘oh hell yeah I will be horribly in love with her’. His soliloquy from earlier that said ‘men are idiots because they mock love then fall in love’? He’s proving himself right. But the difference between him and Claudio is that he can always acknowledge Beatrice’s faults. Even in the very beginning, he says Beatrice is prettier than Hero, though she is unfortunately “possessed with a fury”. Even now, when he’s deluded into thinking she loves him, and he’s listing off her virtues, he can still say she is “wise, but for loving me; by my troth, it is no addition to her wit”, and not only is he acknowledging her faults, he’s also acknowledging his. He even decides to be kind to her because he hears his friends roasting him and thinks ‘wow am I like that? I need to fix that’. While Claudio refuses to even consider that he might be wrong about distrusting Hero, Benedick is making a list of his own flaws and calling it Things I Need To Work On. Claudio’s list is more like Things I Am Right About Without Doing Any Critical Thinking.

What this all boils down to, for me, anyway, is again, that idea of realistic vs idealistic. Claudio is idealistic about himself too. He always thinks he’s right. Benedick knows he has flaws and actively tries to fix them. Claudio has unrealistic expectations of perfection. That whole ‘love is not love which alters when it alteration finds’ thing does NOT apply to him. If he finds an alteration he will not only stop loving you, he will give up on love forever, and ruin your entire life in front of every single person you know. He thinks love is nice. That it’s a warm fuzzy feeling that makes you feel like chirping birds helped you get dressed in the morning. But Benedick knows that love is a choice. His love for Beatrice isn’t love at first sight. In fact, they had a past relationship that ended badly. His feelings for Beatrice change on a dime because he decides he is going to love her, which is a crucial part of any real relationship, romantic or otherwise. We have to choose to love people in spite of their failings because everyone has failings. If we give up on everyone who fails us, we will be alone – just like Claudio and Don Pedro end up isolated from everyone in Act 4 and 5.

When Hero and Claudio reconcile, they slip right back into their dramatic overwrought nonsense – Hero’s all ‘I truly was dead, because you killed me, but I have returned to life’. Beatrice and Benedick are like “I take you for pity” and ‘here’s a shitty sonnet you wrote about me lmao’. Claudio and Hero feel like Romeo and Juliet 2.0, but Beatrice and Benedick sound like your favourite real-life married couple because they can make fun of each other. So again, Shakespeare is playing with expected connotations: the person who’s more serious should probably be a more positive character than the one who can’t take anything seriously, but it’s Benedick, who literally never stops joking around, who is the positive character, and Claudio, who takes everything Very Seriously, who ends up looking like an idiot.

This is a really long answer but basically, they’re foils because Benedick is unserious, realistic, and introspective, while Claudio is serious, idealistic, and self-righteous.

[razberryyum]

The Untamed and The Living Dead movie Thoughts

SPOILERS AHEAD!

If you haven’t watched the movie, it’s best not to proceed cuz you will be spoiled.  

OR, if you have already watched the movie and love it completely, AND you stan Yu Bin and will not put up with any criticism about his performance, it’s also best not to proceed cuz you’ll most likely be annoyed/upset with me. Let’s just agree to disagree right now and move on with our separate happy lives.  

Overall Rating for The Living Dead: 3 Lil Apples out of 10

Yeah, I know that’s pretty harsh…I waffled between 3, 4 and 5, but I had to settle on a 3 in the end because I don’t think I’ll ever rewatch this movie and there were just so many problems I had with it, that I realized I can’t say I liked the movie much at all.  

Before I go on, let me first address the big white elephant in the room: no, WangXian does NOT cameo in The Living Dead nor are they even mentioned in any capacity that would assure us they are still together and happy in the movie’s timeline. At one point Wen Ning does mention them in the same sentence, but only in relationship to himself (that they saved him) and the past. For those of us desperate for confirmation of WangXian happily ever afterness in the world of CQL (“us” meaning me only most likely), we get no assurance whatsover. This is especially disappointing since the movie apparently take place years later after the events of The Untamed so it’s really sad that we have no idea if they are together. Of course in the world of the novel, we know they are absolutely together, happily married, everydaying everyday, but it would’ve been nice if we were given some tiny morsel of comfort for WangXian of The Untamed.  

Not only does Lan Zhan not make an appearance, he’s only mentioned by Wen Ning once, as I indicated above. As for Wei Ying, he’s mentioned a few times and he kiiiiinda makes a cameo…but honestly, I wish they didn’t even attempt that cameo cuz it was so bad. It’s basically the backview of some extra dressed as Wei Ying and dubbed over by someone else that’s not Lu Zhixing-laoshi. Or if it is, the dub was so bad that it didn’t even sound like him anymore.

That’s actually one of my main problems with the movie: the dubbing or sound mixing just sucked. Every time there was dialogue it sounded very obviously that it was on a different track. I didn’t even feel like the characters were saying the words because their voices sounded detached from them. Whereas in The Untamed, I sometimes would completely forget that with the exception of Nie Huaisang, everyone’s line reads were performed by voice actor because the voices were blended so well within the scenes. I don’t know the technical terms of all this dubbing stuff so hopefully I’m making some sense.

Another big problem was the CGI. Holy crap was it bad. It was so bad at no point was I able to immerse myself into the action scenes…I didn’t feel anyone was in danger because they were being attacked by a bunch of obvious and bad CGI. One of the worse scenes that they showed THREE times was when the sister (Xiao Qing) being burned up in CGI flames. First of all her acting was horrendous (why was she covering her ears while she’s being burned alive??) and then the fake fire just made me groan out loud. I didn’t even want to look it was so embarrassingly bad.  

I’m trying to figure out when they shot this movie…in order for them to be able to release the movie so soon after the show, the filming had to overlap with The Untamed’s filming, right? So I guess budget was still tight, probably even tighter than the main show, since CQL probably didn’t start actually seeing the money it made from ads, etc until towards the end. Either way, it feels like they didn’t put much money into this movie, especially not the effects. And if I’m going to be honest, I think they probably just had their second…nay…probably third unit direct it. Or at least, they had their third unit decide on some of the casting cuz some of the performances were…OOF. One thing I really appreciated about The Untamed is that even with most of the background actors, there was hardly a glaringly bad performance. I’ve said before the worse really was the actor who played Wen Ruohan, which is a shame cuz he’s more than an extra, but overall all the performances by the supporting characters ranged from decent to strong with hardly a weak link. Here, in this movie, I would say most of the performances from the new cast members were very mediocre. In fact, the only truly consistently good performances from beginning to end was Zheng Fanxing (Sizhui) and that cute little girl in the beginning:

I was kind of sad when she got killed off cuz she was adorable and definitely a MUCH better actor that the dude who played her older brother…at no point was I remotely convinced he was scared so on the other hand I was happy he died. But I thought she was going to burn to death or something because it didn’t seem like a good idea to have her hide in a wooden cupboard with a lite stove…that was so stupid and weird. Btw, what the hell was with that cat screeching sound effect?? Sounded like someone was throwing a cat, but like WHY?  

As for the three new players introduced for this movie—Gao Han as Xiao Yi, Wang Yifei as Xiao Qing and He Longlong as Zhou Zishu—I’ve never seen their work before, and nothing about their performances in this movie makes me interested in what they will do in the future. To be fair, Gao Han tried…you can totally tell he was trying REALLY hard in some of his scenes, but for the most part, he either overacted or strangely enough, underacted. He was just really inconsistent. I know Zhou Zishu was supposed to be a red herring so the fact that he started out looking sketchy AF was supposed to be a ruse since our narrator was entirely untrustworthy, but even in the context of that false narration, he was really bad. As for the sister played by Wang Yifei…just look at her performance as she’s being burned up again.  

By the way, I’m gonna say this now: if Wei Ying and Lan Zhan don’t even get to share a fucking real hug between them throughout the entirety of The Untamed, then I don’t think some generally unimportant-in-the-greater-scheme-of-things couple should be allowed to freaking KISS in anything related to the world of CQL.

I understand it’s all about the censorship, etc etc, but if any hetero couple deserved to share an onscreen kiss, it would’ve been Shijie and Jin Zixuan, and since even they were deprived of that, then these two nobodies should not have been granted this privilege. Seriously, fuck whoever decided to stick that moment in the movie. That’s just fucking unfair and really annoyed me. There better not be any more of that kind of nonsense in the Nie brothers‘ movie.  

The last I’ll say about performances is that sadly, I felt as if there was something off about Yu Bin’s. I totally understand that this is a different Wen Ning than the one we saw in the show—he’s older, more mature, since God knows how many years have passed already—so I don’t mind that he’s more serious. But at the same time, he was just so uneven that I couldn’t get behind his performance at all. He was always one key off, if that makes any sense, so it almost felt like someone else was playing Wen Ning entirely, someone who is completely unfamiliar with that character. And his work in the…whatever fuck that place was…Yin Metal purgatory?? (and for those who are familiar with Guardian, that place was giving me bad flashbacks to Dixing)…was kind of cringey overall.  

I wanted to love seeing Wen Ning be a badass wise uncle, so I actually feel really sad that I couldn’t enjoy his performance in general. However, what I absolutely did enjoy was seeing uncle and nephew bonding and working together…  

…just wish those moments weren’t marred by all that bad CGI.  

Wen Ning’s new look gave me pause though: not that I didn’t appreciate the whole metal look, but I kind of couldn’t figure out why Wen Ning added the chains back to his ensemble when he got rid of them back in The Untamed already.

I mean, if the black veins on his neck don’t attract attention, walking around wearing heavy, clangy chains sure would probably alarm people as well, I think.  

Last thing on Wen Ning: again, not that I didn’t appreciate his newfound ability to hulk out, but yikes, that whole effect was ruined by yet again bad CGI AND a really goofy score. Sounded like something they “borrowed” from Naruto.

Except for that one piece of music, I did like the score for the rest of the movie, especially in the opening credits since it definitely evoked a sense of creepiness. The images in the credits were good too. I can easily imagine that being the OP creds to a horror anthology.  

As for the story, I was fine with it. I liked that they related the family to Nightless City because apparently they are the ones who helped make Nightless City nightless? Here I thought it was the surrounding lava but I guess there were lanterns lighting the place up that I just somehow missed completely.  I liked the plot twist with Xiao Yi and his “sister”…although I did guess there was some incesty thing going on in the beginning…just didn’t think I would be right and wrong at the same time. I thought they would relate their relationship back to Wen Ning and Wen Qing somehow, considering the sisters shared the same name…this was before the “incest” part was confirmed of course…but they never really did so having Wen Qing share the same name as Xiao Qing felt like an oddity in the end. It’s also odd how they used the same phonetically sounding last name of “Xiao” since of course I immediately thought of Xiao Zhan (different characters). Like, couldn’t they come up with completely different names? Overall, the plot wasn’t bad, as mysteries go, at first I couldn’t figure out why the Yin Metal all of a sudden had all these new powers and why the metal wielder, Zhou Zishu, would become a ghost puppet himself, but with the plot twist, all of that was explained so I was fine with it. The last shot of “Xiao Yi” in the Yin Metal purgatory made me guffaw; yeah, that didn’t look suggestive AT ALL. 

The Living Dead actually makes me look forward even more to the next movie, The Fatal Journey. I’m hoping that since it’s potentially about the Nie brother’s past and Jin Guangyao, that perhaps there will be less need for CGI as it will focus more on just dialogue and story-telling. Not to mention, again, apologies to Yu Bin fans, but those three actors are generally stronger performers, so with them at the helm, I’m expecting/hoping for greater things.    

Since I’ve been mostly negative, I wanted to leave on at least one positive note: Sizhui is still an adorable puppy. His dads, wherever they are, whatever they’re doing during the movie, must be so proud of him. 

[jamiebluewind]

Misunderstandings

OC Perspective (Lyric)

Word Count: 1466

Notes: nonbinary character (Lyric), transmale character (Aultho), occasional use of fantasy language (elvish)

Characters: Lyric (original character), Aultho (original character), and Fabian (mentioned)

Warnings: bigotry, fantasy based racism, violence mention (please message me if I missed any)

Ships: None

Spoilers: Fantasy High Season 1 (minor)

Summary: Aultho had a bad day at work (due to a particular half-elf). His sibling Lyric tries to help.

Takes place after the bonus comic for Fabian's Gifts.

Requested by @rizbian

****

Lyric sat in their room tinkering with a new crystal array. Normally they would be in bed already, but their brother had messaged them from work saying that he would be home late. It meant one of two things; he either had a big last minute order or he had stuck his foot in his mouth again.

While soldering a few stray wires on their latest project, they heard their brother slam the door, followed by a loud "Vyshaana darrdartha biir!" Yeah. That was never a good sign. They put their tools away and headed towards the sounds of angry sun elf.

They leaned against the doorway to the kitchen, eyeing Aultho. He was facing away from them, searched for something in the upper cupboards. "I'm guessing your evening went well," they said with a smirk.

"Not now Lyric," he replied flatly without turning around. Uh-oh. This was bad.

Lyric reached out and placed a hand on their brother's shoulder. He was tense. The twins stood like this for a moment as Lyric's thumb made soft circles on the other's shoulder. Finally, Aultho's shoulders slumped with a sigh as he turned his head. A deep bruise blossomed across his jaw and he had the beginnings of a black eye. "Seldarine!" they exclaimed. "What... how... go sit. I'll bring some ice and healing aid."

A halfhearted smile appeared on Aultho's face as he shook his head. "Gys sa salen?" he said more like a question than a demand as he nodded towards the liquor.

"Sure," Lyric replied. "Elven wine or something harder?"

"Whichever you grab first," he answered as he walked towards the small livingroom.

Lyric poured up two drinks, sending a small machine to grab the healing aid while they got the rest. They pulled a coldpack out of storage and activated it with a tap before pressing it between their body and arm so they would have two free hands for the glasses. By the time they walk into the livingroom and sat the glasses down, the machine had returned, healing aid in hand.

Aultho glanced and the tin. "I only asked for a drink," he said. It was an absentminded observation, the kind he often made that got him in the most trouble.

"And I brought you something that will actually do some good," they replied. They dipped their fingers in the magic infused balm and applied a thin coat to his face. They made a mental note to make more for him to keep at work. Aultho would have never let them see him like this if he had any left.

Slowly, the balm did it's job as the scraps knitted themselves back together, the harsh bruise faded to a softer hue, and the swelling became less pronounced. "Thank you," Aultho said with a sigh. Lyric wordlessly ploped the coldpack in his hand before taking their seat. Aultho placed the pack on the sore area and sighed again before reaching over to grab his drink.

Lyric gave him a few rare moments of silence to collect his thoughts. They were going to find out what happened of course, but Aultho looked so drained that they decided he needed a little more time than normal. It wasn't the first time he had come home like this since they fled to Solace. In fact, when the twins first arrived it had been almost a daily occurrence! Lyric had gotten in their fair share of stupid fights too - especially those first couple months - but they had adapted and found friends that helped them understand. All Aultho had was Lyric, a prickly exterior, and a strong aversion to admitting when he needed help.

Lyric was about to start prodding when a heavy sigh came from Aultho. "I really have no idea how I pissed this one off," he said. His head was leaned back and his eyes were closed. "The gods damned biir."

"Did you call him a biir?" Lyric asked. Serious or no, they could never resist getting cheeky with their brother.

Aultho leaned up to roll his eyes at them, only to stop with a flinch and an "ow". He looked like he had a headache coming on. "I haven't been that stupid since the second month we arrived here," he replied.

"And yet-" they started

"I know," he said. "It still comes out sometimes when I'm mad. Apologies."

They reached out and patted his leg. At least he was trying.

"I was about to close shop when a customer came in," he said, looking at his sibling. "Tall. Loud. Probably half-elf or human. Wearing one of those stupid school sports coats..."

They furrowed their brow. "Letterman jacket?" they guessed.

"Yes!" he said. "That's it."

"So probably in high school or college?" they asked.

He nodded and then seemed to immediately regret it. "Yes," he answered. "That sounds about right.  A real gabreth. He banged on the counter, demanding a small briefcase. I suggested he make it a briefcase of holding. Then he punched me, yanked me up by my collar, said he wanted the feature while threatening me, requested initials, and then said he would be back in two hours to pick it up!"

They stared. "That's... how could that even be done," they asked.

"Not easily," he answered. "I luckily had a small black briefcase already made plus several scrolls on hand to help with the magic and lettering, but it was close." He winced. "Too close. I half expected him to punch me again once I explained that the magic had to settle for a couple weeks before the holding feature he requested would work, but he seemed quite happy with it." A humorless laugh came out. "Even gave me a tip."

Lyric breathed out heavily and sunk into their seat. "Wow," they said. They blinked a few times, trying to figure out what to do next. "Okay. Lets go through EXACTLY what you said. Because this is either a learning moment for you or a perfect time for me to test out my battle tech."

This got a real laugh out of him. "Okay," he answered. "Let's see..." He scewed his face in thought. "I think he said 'I demand a goblin sized leather briefcase.' I told him it would be a tiny thing and turning it into a briefcase of holding would give the goblin a lot more space to store the shiny things they stole. Then he punched me and-"

"Wait," they said, holding up a hand. Lyric was pretty sure their brain quit working for a second there and was desperately trying to catch up. "Did you actually tell this person... that goblins are thieves who like shiny things?"

A pause. His eyes widened. "...yes?" he answered, drawing out the eh sound.

Oh dear gods their brother could be an idiot sometimes. "Al," they said. "You can't... that's month four stuff!"

"But just last week someone told me..." He stopped and closed his eyes as he breathed out, defeated. "Mhaor kiira," he whispered.

"Hey," they said, taking their brother's hand, "whoever told you that was the asshole here. It's not your fault. Not completely anyway." It was hard enough for Aultho to sort through the lies and truthes without some idiot making it harder on him. Unfortunately, their brother was an accidental bigot magnet.

"Maethe," he said solemnly, "but I am still the fool falling for their false truthes after nearly a year."

They glared at him. "I will fight you ya know?" they replied. "I have a pile of battle tech ready to unleash at a moment's notice."

He raised an eyebrow. "Is it beside the pile of gay stuff?" he asked.

"My dearest brother," they answered with a hand to their chest, "Everything I own is gay stuff. You have to be more specific." They punctuated it with a wink.

He chuckled softly. "I should have realized," he replied. He looked at them with a genuine smile now that reached his eyes. "We should probably prepare for bed," he said suddenly as he stood up and stretched. "Would you mind if I borrowed your mini crystal while I trance? I might need a refresher."

Lyric smiled brightly at him. It was the first time he had asked for the mini crystal instead of having it pushed on him. Progress. "Sure," they answered with a nod as they unclipped the purplish pink crystal and handed it to him. "No problem." They made a mental note to get him one of his own that they could update regularly.

He looked down at the crystal now cradled in his hands. "Thank you," he said with a soft smile before turning to walk away. "Goodnight, Syolkiir," he said over his shoulder as he went into his room.

"Goodnight, Quinpah," they answered. "Love you too."

~~~~~~

Elvish Words Used

Aul: in

Tho: truth

Vyshaana: vile curse or an insult (reference to the Vyshaan clan of sun elves).

Darrdartha: foamjaws, rabies

Biir: garbage, used as an insult against half-elves or those of human heritage

Seldarine!: Gods! (expression of exasperation)

Gys Sa Salen: Give Me a Drink/I Need A Drink

Gabreth: untrustworthy, likely to turn on you, cruel in battle (dangerous/vicious)

Mhaor: corrupt/corruption

Kiir: gem (plural is kiira)

Maethe: perhaps

Syolkiir: wild star/gem (meteor)

Quinpah: a type of elvish bread/pastry

[kikaromi]

AU Rambling -- The Struggles with Trust

One of my favorite things about my FE:Fates AU is exploring Ludger’s central conflict: trusting in others, particularly the Nohr Royal Family. 

So the framing is as follows: as part of conditioning the other Kresnik Clan members into martyrs against the Kingdom of Nohr, no members outside those hand-picked by Bisley are allowed to leave the village. This avoids giving those who aren’t completely loyal chances to sympathize with those outside the clan, which could later plant a seed of doubt in their actions come their future invasion. Ludger, the naturally kind-hearted boy, is of course not one of those people. Thus, as Ludger escapes the village by himself, he’s left in a world he barely knows, tasked to find people who’ll help him rescue his brother. 

Who may those people be? There’s two options: Hoshido or Nohr. 

The first thought would be the peace-loving Hoshidans, but there’s an immediate problem: his situation’s circumstances. It’s hard not to suspect a stranger who hails from seemingly nowhere asking you to come help him with a problem within enemy territory. And it gets worse-- helping Ludger would mean following him up into his secluded mountain village into what’s almost guaranteed to be a trap, as Bisley knows Ludger’s going to come back eventually to rescue Julius. Anyone with sense would conclude Ludger was intentionally trying to lead his country’s enemies into a trap for the Kingdom of Nohr’s sake. 

Plus the opposite could be true too-- maybe the Hoshidans would only go with him to kill a future cog in the ongoing war. Ludger would finally be with his brother again, only to get them both killed because of his naivete. Asking for their help isn’t an option. The next option would be the Nohrians, but that’s a no-go as well. 

Though Ludger now knows Bisley’s stories of the Nohr Royal Family being vile, untrustworthy monsters were just to mold the other members of the Kresnik Clan to feel no reservations killing his conquest’s enemies, that doesn’t change that all his life, he’s been taught the Nohr Royal Family are his enemies. And he can’t entirely shake off that stigma through the power of will alone; it doesn’t help either that the current king at the time, King Garon, falls pretty in-line with what he’s been taught. 

But to his good fortune, a third option does exist. Ludger hears of Corrin’s forces, who purportedly has Hoshidans and Nohrians fighting together as comrades. It sounds perfect... until he finds out the entire Nohrian Royal Family (excluding Garon) is among the forces. And they call Corrin their sibling, meaning the leader is also part of the Nohrian Royal Family. It creates an ultimatum: does he put his faith in these supposed “monsters” to save his brother, or does he let this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity go? Ludger chooses the former, yet his reluctance keeps him from telling the group why he’s interested in joining their fight. He lies and says, “I want to see an age where all Nohrians and Hoshidans can call each other comrades.”

The cycle of distrust sadly doesn’t show signs of stopping after he joins. Ludger has a hard time sleeping in the camp for the first few weeks in fear someone’ll think him a traitor and kill him, and he refuses to so much at look any of the royal siblings (bar Corrin as they’re his commander) because being near them reignites his worries of what Bisley might be doing to his sibling. This behavior makes Ludger come off as incredibly sketchy, rightfully so, thus Ludger isn’t afforded much trust in return. 

Corrin’s faith in Ludger does allow him to eventually invite them out to a late night picnic where he admits the real reason he wanted to join the army: he was looking for someone to help him rescue his older brother, Julius. He’d kept his intentions secret until now because he couldn’t expect people to risk their lives for what might be a pointless suicide mission when he can’t even trust them first. In that vein, he asks Corrin not to tell anyone about his brother-- he promises he’ll tell them when he feels ready. Corrin goes along with it. 

Finally spilling his heart out does encourage Ludger to start putting his faith in the other members of the camp. He starts talking more about himself (where before, he restricted that information to near nothing), mentions his brother, and generally tries to include himself in the conversation. But he’s still got a sour point in the Nohr siblings, finding it near impossible to get a word in without wanting to abort the conversation. Not because they seem like bad people--he think them to be kind souls--he just can’t shake that small voice in his head telling him not to associate with his “enemies”. 

Once he feels comfortable enough, Ludger blurts out during a strategy meeting that he needs everyone’s help to rescue his brother from Bisley back in their hometown deep within the mountains. Corrin naturally agrees to aid Ludger’s plea and Ludger storms the Kresnik clan in full confidence. Ludger goes on ahead to search the houses, finds his brother, and escorts him to safety. Julius needs time to recover (he’s not eaten a proper meal since Ludger left and his wounds need medical treatment), but he’s quick to congratulate Ludger for finding comrades who've loved and trusted him in his absence. Ludger agrees.

His burdens lifted, Ludger recognizes he’s got a real apology to give Xander, Camilla, Leo, and Elise. He apologizes for avoiding them and refusing to trust them up until they’ve done him a great favor, and he’s going to try extremely hard to treat them properly from now on. 

[kazushuu]

🍍🍊🥝 for both of those sweet boys

o lord this ended up long. read more time!

🍍  :    how comfortable is my muse in their body? how do they feel about their height,  weight,  strength,  and body type?  how important is being attractive to them?

    “ …occupying myself with such things is nothing but baggage. ”

    he says, but it’s only half true. appearances (and identity itself) is completely neutral for him. not uncomfortable, but not really confident and proud either. however if he had to pick, he is often bothered with things below his neck more.

   he’s not bothered about his height, necessarily. but his strength is a bothersome thing. chemistry equipment like machinery is usually heavy, and so carrying those things around is a hassle. he sorta expressed his desire to be stronger in a usual creepy manner when talking about mantis shrimp.he is almost always cold and rigid because he’s underweight, and paired with medication, he’s generally a very dizzy.

   …he fully knows that he’s responsible for his own health, but completely reinventing his lifestyle– even though he’d definitely be even more productive and beneficial if he were healthy– is just an… impossible task, that he can’t tackle right away.

   but on another hand, even if he doesn’t voice it, he is very touched and impacted about compliments (usually just acknowledgements) about his voice, and hair, and eyes, and believe it or not, hands, so he’s subtly proud of them. he takes better care of his hair than anything else about his anatomy. and the pretty bow that he always has in his hair is very much a conscious decision.

   kazuaki picked up on this fact and compliments shuu on his butt and thighs in hopes that he’ll enhance them too but to no avail, shuu always hides them under discreet coats. damn u shuu

   he isn’t really self conscious about his scarring. he is worried that kazuaki will be too disgusted to handle it, but soon enough they’re gonna talk about it and their worries will be gone.

   summed up, he’s distressed about how vulnerable he unfortunately is, but doesn’t really care about beauty.

   “ …………………..n-no, not comfortable. i hate everything, everything about myself! i truly mean it!! i don’t like my height, i don’t like my weight, i don’t like my strength, i don’t like my body type, i don’t like my hair, i don’t like my face, i don’t like my voice, i don’t like my teeth, i don’t like my hands, i don’t like my knees, i don’t like how my hips look, i don’t like how my stomach rolls when i sit down, i don’t like my nose, i don’t like anything, and if if they were visible, i’d hate my organs too.

   everything feels wrong… i’m too tall, i don’t want to bring attention to myself, i want to disappear, i’m too fat- but i don’t even really dislike it alone, it’s just a constant reminder of how shitty and sloppy i am with what i put in myself…

   i don’t like the lines on my wrists because they are a constant reminder… of hitori.

   i like things that are cute and pretty, and i’m neither… even though shuu compliments me, i don’t know how to stop hating myself.

   f-freckles! i also have those, i-… i don’t know, they make me look childish, maybe?

   …why am i looking for reasons to hate myself??!! why can’t i stop??!!

   …i feel like if i met someone nice and kind and friendly, someone whom i’d like, who had the same physical traits as me, i wouldn’t find them ugly, s-so why? ”

   yeah. but as he said, he simply feels like a nuisance and clutter of space, because he thinks he has too many flaws without any good things to make up for them. shuu isn’t super vocal, but he actually finds kazuaki’s appearance very endearing. if not too much sometimes. cause you know. kawa-word.

   as teeth-gritting as it is, he’s happy to know that shuu is pleased with his appearance, and equally as pleased with the idea to experiment and bruise him, so oddly enough, that’s a small boost to his cripplingly low confidence.

🍊  :    does my muse desire romance?  is it something they would actively seek out,  or prefer to happen more  ‘  naturally?  ’  what is their love life like?  do they have any exes or past flings,  or crushes?

   “ …i don’t seek anything, no. i have always been married to my work, but, well, it seems that i became sentimental about this… particular quail. i don’t know how it came to this, ” yes he does, all too well, “ but alongside my main husband, kazuaki is very dear to me… and i shall not comment on the last question. ”

   obviously shuu needs a lot of time, and some amount of pressure, to awaken some empathy and feelings in him. and when he likes someone, he will develop an entire lobe in his brain dedicated to them. although it has only happened… twice in his life.

   his love life is kazuaki, and nothing else.

   his feelings towards ryuuji, although on a similar frequency, are much different than kazuaki’s. believe it or not, shuu has a romantic crush on kazuaki, and had one for a long while before they became a couple, but his feelings towards ryuuji are actually platonic. at least, that’s the state that they ended on. if… time went on, they would’ve developed into romanticism as well.

   ryuuji can’t really be called a crush, as much as that souma projected his entire being onto him, his present, his future, his little embryo hopes and dreams… he called him his boss, because that’s what he was, but really, souma saw ryuuji as a father figure.

   after being robbed of his childhood, ryuuji showed him a glimpse of innocent fun, but was also a role-model in his achievements.

   it was unrequited love in a way, but souma didn’t realize the depth of his feelings until much later.

   as he said, he saw ryuuji as someone to be admired from below, but kazuaki is someone he can sympathize with, and clings to the fact that they’re in love with all his might.

       -sniff-

   “ …hitori…hitori is an ex. i don’t know if i love or hate him anymore.

   b-but um, um, otherwise… i haven’t really met all that many people in my life, so i don’t know… i always fantasized and dreamed about true love and all that stuff you see in cartoons.

   i didn’t really chase after shuu because i wanted him to be my boyfriend, at first. at first, i came to him because i had no one else. not a single person in real life left. shuu was my only acquaintance, and was the only person who didn’t immediately slither away when i tried to be friendly, so i fixated on him with all my might…

   …to be my friend. i wanted to be his friend.

   a-and i guess at some point, we did, but we never even really acknowledged it, because we only realized it when we decided to take the next step already! so that’s wild! it happened naturally, i guess. um, more naturally than with hitori. and i mean that as, maybe because we didn’t know we were friends, i didn’t latch onto him as obviously as to hitori, when we were 18… we were mostly at a certain distance.

   so, i guess, i’ve always been a slow burn, “natural” type, ahah… mnm, when i think about it really hard, maybe i had some aesthetic-based highschool crushes. there was a guy, and a girl, or… there might’ve been two girls, but we never even talked, so… ”

🥝  :    does my muse have any  ‘  unusual  ’  habits, interests,  and  /  or talents?  do they hide it,  or are they proud of it?

   “ I don’t know much about what is considered ‘unusual’ or not. but from reactions and experience, i guess everything about me is called unusual, creepy, suspicious, untrustworthy…mean…disgusting...

   but if we put what most birds know on a surface level about me, i guess there are some hidden traits too…

   …my interest in marine biology seems to be one. i love it equally as much as i love pathology and research, but i don’t have a reason (or way) to show it as a nurse in a highschool.

   …i like cooking? it’s a bit of a shame. i never saw a reason to put effort into it, if it was just gonna be me eating it in the end, but kazuaki seems to like my dinner making skills, so i’ve been doing that more often.

   …there…there probably is more, but i can’t remember anything… m-my mind is full of crabs and seafood now, hm. ”

   the list of shuu’s habits is endless and the list is always expanding! i have a list of HCs on it in a twitter thread here!

   but let’s see, the quirkiest of habits, that are a bit of a secret…

   shuu looks really cute when you catch him eating. he is quiet and polite of course but he tends to stuff his cheeks and then just slowly chew looking like a hamster.

   shuu stims. he’s never really mobile and never gets hyperactive so those stims are subtle.he fidgets with his (reminiscent) necktie, or any other fabric in hand.he chuckles (and makes.. bird noises) pretty much unawarely and impulsively. those count as stims too.

   “ u-uhuu... i dunno... i’ve always been the introverted outcast and no one is interested in me, so that can either mean that i’m painfully average or really weird without meaning to...

   ...i-i’ve been told that because i work at this prestigious academy, that must mean that my skill...”talent”...for classic and contemporary literature is unusual and exceptional...so i guess that’s unique?

   and...um... ” now that he thought about the topic harder, a piling mountain of perverted thoughts came to his mind, “ Y-YEAH THAT’S IT!! THERE IS...NOTHING ELSE! ”

   but that’s not true. kazuaki has plenty of hidden traits. one of his interests, although not so secret on this blog, is his love for hatocatch pretty coore, and generally, he loves most childish and energetic anime and games... and interests.

   aside from writing, he also really likes drawing, but isn’t very good at it, which prompts him to hate the end results.

   he loves astrology, and had a phase where he obsessed over it while studying both art and science related to it... you can probably guess that shuu loves this intellectual side of him.

   as for talents, or, uh, lack of thereof, kazuaki can’t whistle, and can’t wink. (shuu can whistle, but he can’t wink either).

   and as for a habit and skill, in bird form, kazuaki gets frightened so easily and so frequently, that his quail instinct is desensitized to it and actually doesn’t jump and ram his head into the ceiling when startled, and instead his instinct is to hide below. of course, he’d still jump if something were really (really) sudden. but he’s more likely to hug someone than flee.. upwards.

   also, he’s actually really talented at rhythm games... and i won’t tell what else he’s really good at with his fingers.